Traveller
By
L.W. Samuelson

Chapter One - Traveller
Long and lanky, standing over six mezures tall, Traveller looked like a typical Benwarian teenager that is if there were any. Benwarian teenagers were as rare as a present-day Lizerian lizard egg nowadays. In fact, except for the thirty or so adolescents in the cryogenics units, Traveller was the only one on board. A paler shade of blue than most Benwarians, his intensely blue almond-shaped eyes were continually in motion, propelled by nervous energy. His well-proportioned facial features fell just short of being effeminate, masking his extremely male propensities.
Traveller came from a prominent family. His great grandfather had been responsible for the final integration of electronic circuitry into the biological nervous system and the living brain of the spaceship affectionately called Ship. The living organism that they now traveled on could think, feel, and even make decisions.
He had heard about the exodus from the island nation of Benwar many times. How the planet had become severely overpopulated. How the other inhabitants of Lemmus had treated the planet with complete disregard. How his people had devoted their entire national budget to build and develop an interstellar spaceship. How 2400 Benwarians had boarded the ship for parts unknown. He had even watched the video of the planet deteriorating into blowing sand.
His father was Fa Orgen, a research geneticist, one of a third generation of unfrozen Benwarians who conducted research and developed new technologies that allowed the Benwarians to manipulate and control various life forms. He was currently working with Fa Structor on developing a control matrix with a memory chip that would allow a virus to circumvent an organism’s immune response. The viruses were so minute that they had had to use three dimensional shift technologies to put the chip in one dimension to control the virus in another. His father had explained it all to him, but he found it boring. He was bored.
Traveler hated his life aboard Ship. He hated being one of only three children among twenty-five adults. The other two were five years younger than he was. They were obedient to a fault. Not Traveller, he spent most of his time in the exercise room with a virtual reality suit on slaying Lizerians or doing flight simulations. He couldn't wait for the day when the other 2375 Benwarians were unfrozen. Maybe then there would be someone to pal around with.
Today he was to practice impelling with Porter Tellez. Porter was one of four Benwarians chosen for an advance party to investigate the planet they were moving toward. Traveller liked Porter, everyone like Porter. His easy smile kept his exuberant personality on display. Traveller walked down Ship's main corridor to the training room. The door opened at his approach.
"Traveller, by the universe, it's good to see you!" Porter said with great enthusiasm.
Traveller couldn't help but smile. "Hi Porter. How long before you leave?"
"We have a week. We're still trying to get our muscles unknotted from being in cryogenics for over 150 cycles. Every once in a while I still get uncontrollable muscle spasms. The other day when I was trying to impel, I ended up on the floor jerking like a Lizerian on spetamine."
"You're always telling me mind over matter," chided Traveller.
"Well sometimes the circuits get stuck. You're lucky. You've never been frozen. It's hard to control something that hasn't been used for a few generations. I'll bet I can still impel farther than you."
"You're on. I'll bet you a week's ration of syno-wafers."
"Okay, the loser has to eat them," said Porter laughing.
Traveller cracked up too. "Eating syntho-wafers is like kissing your father. I only do it out of duty. How about the loser has to schedule a conference with Logis?"
"That's kind of harsh isn't it? Who wants to be around the Sanctimonious One?"
"Oh he's not that bad. I've seen him smile every once on a while. Not that I want to talk to him, he makes me nervous. Somehow I feel like I'm standing a little too close to the sun when I'm around him," said Traveller.
"I've got it! Let's make the bet a little more interesting. How about the loser has to tug on General Battier's cape?" Porter said with a twinkle in his eye.
"No way in Lizerian hell! I'm afraid to even look at the General."
Porter put his hand on his chin to ponder. "Hmmm . . . What if the loser has to give up virtual reality for a week?"
"Man, that'll be rough for me not so much for you."
"Yeah, you need to be more social. If you had friends like I do, it wouldn't be so bad," Porter smiled.
"Who needs old people friends? They're as exciting as watching a Lemming tick on a dog," Traveller said vehemently.
Porter laughed this time. "If you want excitement, maybe you should come with us when we leave."
Traveller brightened. "I would love to." Unintentionally, Porter had planted a seed, one that would grow as Traveller watered it with his imagination.
"I don't think it would sit too well with your father. He expects you to follow in his footsteps,” Porter said.
Traveller didn’t hear him. He had suddenly transported himself to the planet Earth. The planet of his imagination was filled with Lizerians that Traveller and his small band of loyal men met with the blade. He whirled and ducked under their gigantic leader’s broad sweep of the sword to plunge his steel point of death into the beast’s heart.
Porter nudged him out of his reverie. “So how about it? Is it a bet?”
“What? Oh, yeah. Sure, one week without virtual reality.”
Traveller surveyed the exercise room. Arranged in a rectangle, it measured a hundred mezures by two hundred mezures. They stood on one end of the room staring down its length. Every ten mezures, a yellow line ran its width. The longest he had ever impelled was twenty mezures. Porter had been teaching him to launch himself by concentrating on a spot first and then projecting his mind there. Porter said his body would follow if he made it happen by an unquestioning belief in his abilities.
“How many practice jumps do we get?” he asked.
“How many do you need?” responded Porter.
“Ten?”
“How ‘bout five? I’m not as young as you are.”
“Seven?”
“Okay, seven for you; five for me.”
“You’re on. I go first.”
Traveller concentrated on the second line from where they stood. He tensed his muscles and crouched. He sent his mind to the line and fell short by two mezures as his body dragged it backward.
Porter wiggled his arms, shook his legs, and smiled. He stretched by extending one leg behind him and genuflecting the other then rocking back and forth. He switched legs to repeat the procedure.
“Come on old man,” Traveller said impatiently.
Suddenly “the old man” disappeared. Traveller felt the air rush past him as Porter impelled himself forward. He turned his head sideways to find his friend standing on the far side of the next line ahead of him. “How did you do that?” Traveller asked.
“It’s easy. Just don’t tense up so much. Your body has to relax before it can follow your mind. When you jumped, your muscles had to uncoil first; it cut your distance by a third.”
Traveller walked back to the beginning line. “You might want to move to the side,” he told Porter.
When his friend was clear, he concentrated on the third line, making it his target. He never quite disappeared like Porter had. He left a series of images nanoparses apart and landed well short of the second line. “By the universe!” he yelled in frustration.
“You’re thinking too much. Mind then body. Mind then body. Watch,” Porter said as he walked back to the first line. He shook his butt and wiggled his legs before crouching down, he turned around then impelled.
Traveller felt him brush by as he landed halfway between the thirtieth and fortieth mezure. “You’re not even trying!”
“Exactly. By the way did I tell you? I took second place in the last Impellment Tournament before we left home.”
“No, you conveniently forgot to mention that.”
“Sorry. Listen, go back to the starting line and do three jumps in a row as fast as you can. Try to do them without thinking, just relax and let yourself go.”
Traveller shook his head ane walked down the court with his countenance colored with frustration. He gave a look of resentment as he walked past Porter leaning against the wall with an amused expression on his face. His friend’s attitude stoked Traveller’s anger. At the starting line, Traveller forgot about concentrating and used his rage to propel himself forward. He landed just beyond twenty mezures, without thinking he impelled again. This time he landed twenty-five mezures farther up the court. On his last jump he bundled all of his anger and frustration together and used the explosion inside of him to jump. He felt like he would sail through the far wall. When he landed, his feet tangled together. He sprawled face first onto the court. His chin smacked on the floor, flesh tore from his hands as they slid on the semi-soft surface. He rolled over and looked up, Porter was standing over him. How can that be? He was over forty mezures away. Surely he can’t impel that far.
“Are you well?” his friend asked.
Humbled now, Traveller answered through blurred vision, “I will be in a minute.” He sat up and waited for his head to clear. His palms stung with a thousand sharp stabbing pains.
“That last jump was your best until you tripped,” Porter said.
“Yeah, but even that one wasn’t as good as your worst. I concede.”
“Here let me help you up,” Porter said. “Are you ready?”
“Sure,” Traveller said shaking his hands, the separate sensations of hurt had morphed into a giant throb.
Porter stood behind him, grabbed his armpits and hoisted him up. “Let me bandage those,” Porter said looking at his wounds. “Ship, some curemesh treated with anti-pathogenic.”
A panel in the wall near the middle of the court slid up before Ship answered, “The court rules state that play will stop when a player is injured. You will be given five parsecs to treat Traveller’s wounds and vacate the court. At the end of the allotted time all lights will be extinguished.”
“Thanks Ship. You are as kind as a Lizerian.”
“Lizerians are extinct,” She said then paused. “Lizerians were not kind. They were brutal killers. I do not understand your reference.”
“Sorry,” said Porter. “I forgot your programming doesn’t include sarcasm.”
There was another long pause after which Ship said, “Sarcasm; saying the opposite of what is meant in an attempt to amuse. I do not think what you said is funny. I am neither kind nor cruel. I am Ship. I do what is required of me to keep those aboard alive and comfortable. I serve the needs of all Benwarians. Our mission is to find a habitable planet. Lizerians are irrelevant.”
Traveller smiled at the sour look on Porter’s face. “Please Ship, we don’t need a lecture. Porter will refrain from sarcasm in the future.” He held his hands out as they were wrapped in the soothing gauze like material. The pain stopped immediately and the healing began.
"Thanks Porter."
"Come on, I'll walk you home."
"I'm okay," Traveller said. He's not really going to take my VR suit, is he?
"I know, but a bet is a bet. I want to see what you spend all your time doing. Besides, if I have the unit, you'll spend your time practicing your jumps."
“You’re cruel Porter.”Chapter Two - Porter
A day after the impelling contest, Porter took Traveller's virtual reality unit to the exercise room. It was a full body suit that covered its wearer from head to toe. It included a sensory saber to allow the user to sword fight the holographic Lizerians. Although the Benwarians had developed vastly more complicated weapons systems in the four hundred years since the Lizerians existed, sparring with a sensory saber was invaluable. The practice developed reflexes, muscles, and endurance. Every time Porter sparred he could hear his old instructor shouting, “Move and think! Move and think!”
Porter also remembered what he had learned about Lizerians. This primitive race of people loved war. Their territorial tendencies kept them in constant conflict with their neighbors in an attempt to gain land and natural resources. They would make treaties, establish boundaries then their population would swell. When Lizeria became overcrowded, the treaty would be broken, and then the most convenient or weakest country would be invaded. It was a cycle of violence that wasn’t broken until they had been exterminated.
Most Lizerians had stood a good head taller than the average Benwarian. They were stronger with thick skin that could be categorized as hide. Over the years that they had existed, they had developed impressive fighting skills. The Lizerians swarmed when they attacked. Almost always outnumbering their opponent, they fought in pairs. The duo would overwhelm the other combatant with sheer power. One would slash violently from the front while the other moved to the weak side of their victim to swing his sword with both hands with long sweeping blows.
Porter put the suit on and activated it at the first level. In front of him appeared two Lizerians. One approached him from the front with his sword slashing in a circular motion. The other came in an arc with his sword held with both hands over his shoulder. Porter activated his sensory saber enjoying the gentle hum in his ear and the slight vibration in his hands. He whipped it in front of him as the bulky Lizerians approached. Whumm, whumm, it sounded each time he brandished it.
The two warriors seemed to be moving in slow motion. He impelled himself into the one in front of him, pushed him back and jabbed for the kill. The thrust scored a death as the other Lizerian slashed at Porter’s shadow. He twirled and brought his saber up and around to decapitate the other fighter. That was easy! No challenge on that level. I'll kick it up to the fifth level.
Porter activated the unit. He barely had his saber up before the charging Lizerian knocked him down. With its enemy on the ground the first Lizerian rushed forward slashing downward with his sword. Porter rolled and the blade struck the shadow of movement. He stood up and impelled between the two Lizerians. The front attacker slashed at air. Porter turned and jabbed with his saber. The thrust was partially parried away by the Lizerian who had turned with amazing speed. It left a gash in the attacker's side but didn't slow him down. The smell of his own blood enraged the giant lizard. He spit venom on Porter’s face shield.
The side attacker moved around his fighting mate. The sideman brought a flashing blade down as Porter wiped the green spit away from his visor. The sword struck his left shoulder to score a point for the VR unit. An electric shock reverberated down Porter's arm. He dropped instinctively and the two Lizerians crashed into each other as they rushed together. Porter swept a leg out cutting the feet of both attackers. He jumped up again to catch one of the warriors getting up, a head rolled with a sweep of his saber. The remaining warrior recovered his feet. The death of his mate seemed to energize the surviving Lizerian who came at Porter with his sword moving faster than before.
Slash, slash, the lizard swung his blade again and again in a berserk rage. The Benwarian retreated backward, narrowly avoiding death. The Lizerian narrowed its eyes, pausing for a moment. Porter gasped for breath with his left arm stinging from electric jabs of pain. By the universe these monsters mean business!
Porter and the Lizerian circled each other warily. The Lizerian slashed his sword sideways and charged. Just before he came within range of Porter's sword, he dropped and lunged feet first at the Benwarian's legs knocking him down backward. With blurring speed the Lizerian regained his feet; his sword came down as Porter was gasping for breath. Instinctively, the Benwarian caught the blade with his left hand; an electric charge brought white light to his brain. He fought through the pain and rolled into the Lizerians legs. He turned on his side, dropped his saber and thrust his fist into the warrior's groin. When the lizard doubled over, Porter gouged an eye out with his fingers. The Lizerian stomped down with his foot, but the Benwarian was no longer there. He was up with his saber.
The Lizerian recovered his sword and turned. Porter appeared on his side, and the Lizerian slashed the air. The Benwarian disappeared to reappear in front of the beast. He slashed again, but again Porter disappeared. He appeared on the opposite side of the Lizerian who slashed again to hear his sword whir through the air. Porter now impelled himself behind the reeling Lizerian and thrust the saber with all his strength into the Lizerian's side. The word “Victory!” flashed in front of his eyes.
Exhausted, Porter turned the VR unit off. He dropped his saber, rubbed his left arm then removed the helmet. He bent over to control his breathing. It took several minutes before he caught his breath. By the universe, I wonder what level ten is like. I barely made it through five.
After Porter was rested, had rubbed his arm to a tingle instead of a series of pricking pains, he pushed the CD (communications device) on his wrist. Traveller answered, "Hey Porter. How are you?"
"I'm exhausted. I just completed level five on your VR unit. The lizardous thing shocked my arm so severely I can hardly move it."
Traveller laughed. "Yeah, I know. The first time I tried that level, I lost. It's hard isn't it?"
"You mean to tell me you've gotten farther than that?"
"Yes. Remember I'm the one that programmed it. The further you get the more severe the shocks. The Lizerians get faster and more intelligent as the game progresses."
"So what level are you at?"
"I completed level seven three days ago. It took me seven attempts to win at that level, I kept getting knocked out."
"What do you mean 'knocked out'?"
"At that level when the Lizerians strike a killing blow, the VR unit administers a healthy dose of electricity, enough to render you unconscious. The first time I tried it at seven, it took a week before I had the courage to try it again."
Porter couldn't believe it. "What happens at level ten?"
"I tried to program it with a lethal charge of electricity, but Ship wouldn't let me. The shock doesn't increase after level seven."
"Are you insane? Why would you want it to administer a shock that would kill you?"
"Because I am bored. I decided I would get so good at the game that I would be able to defeat the unit at the highest level. If I couldn't, my death would put a stop to the endless days of ennui. You see, I can feel my blood congealing inside my veins when I'm not actively doing something."
"For the love of the universe! You need to relax. Haven't you learned to meditate?"
"By the Lizerians! Every time I try to meditate my feelings well up until my head feels like it's going to explode. Come on, Porter, don't you remember what it was like when you were my age?"
Porter laughed, "Actually I'm trying to forget. But you're just going through a stage. Once you get past it everything will be better. You know it's against all Benwar stands for to take your own life or to arrange for it to happen."
"I'm tired of hearing about Benwar. It is gone in the black hole of space. I only know Ship which is cold comfort to say the least."
"I am truly sorry to hear that. Listen, if my arm quits hurting we'll spar tomorrow. I'm curious to see how good you are with a sensory saber."
Traveller's delight was so great that it could be felt over the CD. "I would truly love that Porter. What time?"
By the universe, I was just trying to cheer him up. Now look what I got myself into. "Uh, how about tomorrow afternoon? Say at three parsecs?"
"I can't wait," said Traveller.

Back in his quarters, Porter asked Ship for a medical consultation on his shoulder. "Lay on your bed. Don't move," she commanded. He did as she asked. A minute needle emerged from his mattress and inserted itself into his neck. A muscle relaxant soon coursed through his body. He hardly noticed the biosensors that emerged from both sides of the bed. The ones on the right crossed those snaking from the left side of the bed. In a parsec he was wrapped in a cocoon of biosensors.
He listened to Ship from the depths of relaxation. "You injuries stem from Traveller's VR unit. They are identical to the injuries he received every cycle for six cycles until I adjusted his VR unit. I suggest reducing the playing level to avoid electric shock."
So Ship slowed the unit down, huh. "Don't worry Ship, I hate being electrocuted. Is there any way you can get the tingling sensation out of my arm and shoulder? They don't seem to respond as well as they should."
"I administered a saline solution into your left shoulder. It contains negative ions which should restore the use of your arm. A mild analgesic will eliminate the pain."
Porter could feel the pin point pain abating to be replaced by a feeling of buoyancy. He felt like he was floating in warm water. "Ship," he asked, "would it be possible to replay my VR game?"
"Yes."
"How about Traveller's?"
"Not without his permission."
"Are they stored inside the unit?"
"The last five games can be replayed."
Porter's eye lids became heavy. His relaxation deepened. He slept.

Porter woke up in his quarters. No longer wrapped in the biosensors, he stretched then stood, his head spun. When his vision steadied, the left shoulder was rotated as he tested it for pain and usability. It's fine. Good work Ship.
He grabbed the VR unit from the chair and examined the wrist controls. He hadn't looked at them carefully before. A small square labeled 'control screen' had escaped his notice. He activated it. A small rectangle lit up with touch commands. There was an icon to turn the charge off on the VR weapons. Why didn't I read these before rushing into an electric pain fest? Another icon asked if the user wanted a dagger. That would have been immensely helpful. I could have stayed close to the Lizerians and neutralized their arm strength. Another icon let the user decide how many Lizerians to include in the game. The forth was labeled, 'Replay Game.' That's the one I want.
Porter put the suit on. He pressed replay and watched the game he had played earlier. He winced when the sword struck his shoulder; visible threads of electricity traveled the length of his arm. Watching the fight made it obvious how to defeat the Lizerians and win the game. With that dagger I could have made short work of those two monsters.
Porter pressed reverse until he arrived at Traveller's last game, the one where he had won at level seven. The scene started with the classic Lizerian approach. The first lizard attacked from the front while the other arced around to Traveller's weak side. He let them close until they were almost within striking distance before he impelled. Traveller slammed into the front attacker's chest knocking him backward. The side attacker slashed down with his sword but the boy had already impelled to the side of his arm. He swung his sensory saber down slashing the beast's wrist. It dropped its sword but before Traveller could capitalize on his advantage, the front attacked recovered, charging forward to swing his blade with blurring speed. Traveller parried the sword with his saber.
The Lizerian slashed with blinding quickness keeping Traveller off balance until his partner picked up his sword and joined the attack. With amazing skill and speed, Traveller used his dagger and saber to deflect the Lizerian blows. At this point in the battle something amazing happened. The boy impelled himself into the side attacker's arms. Unable to slash without hitting his comrade, the other Lizerian jabbed with his sword. Traveller dropped down and pulled the lizard whose arms he found himself in forward onto the blade. He grabbed the wrist that held the sword, pivoted and drove his dagger into the first Lizerian's throat. Game over, Traveller won. I'm impressed. His fighting skills and speed are amazing. He has obviously been practicing for quite some time. He'll go into a Lizerian rage when I beat him.Chapter 3 - The Next Day's Duel

Traveller heard a light knock on his door. It's Mom. What does she want? "Yes?" he asked.
"Come and eat. You're breakfast is ready."
"I'm not hungry."
"You are to join us for breakfast; Fa Orgen wants to talk with you."
By the universe, what now? "I'll be there in a minute, La Mame'."
"Thank you dear."
When Traveller walked into the dining room, he could smell something different. He could see slices of shining red-skinned fruit sitting on a plate. The white meat of the bonibulbs glistened with drops of moisture. Next to the fruit was a plate of synthopasties. Placed picturesquely nearby, a pitcher of water sparkled with purity.
"Wow, what's the occasion?"
His father looked up from his APD (all purpose device). "Good morning, Traveller," he said with a note of expectation.
"Hello, Fa Orgen," the boy replied as he kissed his father's cheek.
"Isn't wonderful dear," La Mame' said, "the bonibulbs ripened yesterday. It's acroluminous to have fresh fruit for a change." She picked up the pitcher and filled their three glasses with water.
Traveller sat down with his mouth watering. Usually he didn't care whether he ate or not, but today was different. Fresh bonibulbs were his favorite.
After his mother sat down, the family joined hands. Fa Orgen said the Morning Prayer. "On this glorious day, let us be one with the universe. Let's us walk in the light of truth. Let us be worthy of the Benwarian name." When he got to the end of his prayer, he held up his goblet of water to be joined by his wife and son.
"To life," he said.
"To life," they repeated. The glasses clinked together, hit their lips in unison, made larynxes travel up and down their throats.
The second the ceremony was over, Traveller grabbed a slice of bonibulb from the plate and popped it into his mouth. "Please," his father admonished, "that is not how a Benwarian behaves."
"I'm hungry."
"We control ourselves whether we are hungry or not. You will wait until everyone has food on their plates before indulging," his father monotoned.
By the universe! Why can't we just eat? Traveller felt anger welling up inside of him like boiling water. His eyes shot resentment at his father.
"You are angry. Let's discuss it," Fa Orgen said.
"I don't want to discuss anything. Why can't we just eat?"
"Please dear, don't raise your voice," La Mame' said. "What is wrong dear?"
Traveller caught himself before he erupted. "I am tired of rules, of do this and thats. I am tired of having nothing to do and no one to do it with."
"I thought you made friends with Porter," his mother said.
"Yes, but he is older than I. He seems to think I'm amusing. He treats me like I'm in training for the Protectorate Squad."
"Porter Tellez is a marvelous man. Everyone likes him. He probably just wants to help," La Mame' smiled.
"You are not going to be a protector anyway," his father said. "Our family has a proud tradition of genetic engineering to uphold. It is the way we serve Benwar."
"I don't want to be a genetic engineer. I never have. I never will!" Traveller voice rose with each word.
The shocked look on his father's face shocked Traveller. He had never elicited emotion from Fa Orgen. Fa Orgen was a member of the Sanctum Just. He was respected for his self control and reasoning skills.
The emotion passed like a gust of wind. His father took a deep breath. "You are having a bad day," he said taking a bite of the synthosweet. "When you are done eating, you are to go to your room. Think about your behavior. Your mother and I only want what is best for you. There is no reason for you to be angry."
Traveller held his head down. He quickly finished the bonibulbs and synthosweets. Without saying another word, he left the table and went to his room.
By the universe, I can't take this anymore. I want to be free. I will not be a genetic engineer. Genetics do not interest me at all. I wonder how long I'm supposed stay here.
Traveller's anger had him pacing the room like a Lizerian wrestler. I have to get rid of this energy before I burst. He shoved his bed, console desk and chair to the side of the room.
I have to unravel the tension. I know. I’ll impel it away. Traveller jumped from one corner of the room to the other before going sideways across it. He did a series of diagonal jumps in rapid succession. Ten times in a row he jumped from corner to corner. I'm bored, I'm bored, he thought until an idea crossed his mind.
Traveller impelled himself feet first onto the wall, he ran up it and around until gravity caught up with him. Falling head first, he somersaulted and landed on his feet. That was fun. Let's see how far across the ceiling I can run.
Time and again he practiced. Three steps across the ceiling before he fell. Three steps before he fell. Concentrate. Four steps, five steps before he fell. Wow, that was acroluminous!
By the end of a parsec, Traveller's anger had dissipated. He reached the stage where his mind and body were in sync. No longer thinking about anything but walking across the ceiling, he impelled himself onto the wall. His legs churned faster than ever before as he rounded the corner. Time stopped. He looked up at the blur that was his feet. Six, seven, eight, he counted before he dropped. Traveller hit the floor like a cat crouched. He sprung up and touched the ceiling with glee. I'll beat Porter today, he thought with renewed confidence.
Spent, Traveller lay on the bed and rested. He closed his eyes. He dreamed of annihilating Porter with his sensory saber until he slept for a few hours. When he awoke, it was a half a parsec before he was to meet Porter in the exercise room.
Traveller jumped up, grabbed his saber then approached the door. It didn't open when he broached the barrier. "Ship, I have an engagement with Porter Tellez in a quarter parsec. Please open the door."
"Fa Orgen put a lock on your door at ten parsecs this morning. You will need his override to get out," Ship intoned.
"What? I am not a child. Open the door now, Ship!"
His order was met with silence. He approached the door again. It remained shut. Traveller punched the icon for his father on his CD, anger burned inside of him. He calmed himself knowing an emotional outburst would confine him to his quarters for the rest of the day. He took deep breaths as he waited for his father to answer.
"Yes?" the inquiry came from his CD.
"Hi father. I have thought about what you said. I was wrong to display anger at breakfast this morning. Will you forgive me?"
"Of course. I am glad you've shown the maturity I expect from you."
I don't care what you think. I'll throw myself out of an airlock before I'll become a boring old tick like you, he thought before he replied, "My door is locked. I was supposed to meet Porter this afternoon. Now that I've seen the light, will you let me leave?"
"Do you promise to be on your best behavior from now on?"
What the Lizerian hell? Rage welled up inside of him threatening to find expression in an emotional outburst. Think, get what you want. "Yes father. I will be on my best behavior. I'll control myself from now on." You piece of Lizerian dung. He picked up his saber, activated it then slashed it through the air. Whumm, whumm it sounded making him feel better.
The door to his room slid open, he hung up the phone to run through it and out into the living room. "Thank you," he said before turning the communications device off to exit their living quarters. In the corridor he waved his saber imagining what his conquest of Porter would be like. Whumm . . . Whumm . . . Whum . . .Chapter 4 - The Fight

When Traveller burst through the doors of the exercise there was no one there. He checked his chronochron. Porter should be here. He had better not chicken out. Lization where is he? Traveller cut the air impatiently with his saber. He walked around, jumped up and down. When he started thinking about what his father had said, his anger returned. Treats me like a child, I'll show him.
Traveller found himself standing on the dividing line of the court. I wonder if I can impel with a saber in my hand? He concentrated on a line twenty mezures farther down the court. He bunched and jumped. The saber seemed to drag him backward. Landing only ten mezures up the court he cursed. "Lization. What in Lizerian hell?"
Swinging his saber in frustration, his face turned red. He tried another jump with the same effect. Only eight mezures this time. Out of the corner of his eye left eye, he saw someone enter the room. When he turned, Porter materialized. He was at the door then suddenly only a mezure away.
"Traveller, good to see you," he said with smiling eyes.
Lization you're late. "Hey Porter. How are you?" Traveller said averting his eyes in an attempt to hide the battle that raged inside of him.
"I was sore until Ship gave me a treatment. I'm fine now. So how do you want to do this?" Porter said brandishing his saber.
"Let's make it interesting. Let's put our weapons on stun. The first one to lose consciousness loses."
"Lization, you like to play for blood don't you? Are we using daggers?"
Traveller narrowed his eyes. "Daggers? How do you know about daggers?"
"Well are we?"
"Sure." Lization, I was hoping he didn't know. Now I've lost the element of surprise.

***

Porter watched Traveller's eyes when he mentioned the daggers. They flickered with surprise and then resentment. Within seconds the resentment turned to anger.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "You seem upset." Something is raging inside of him. He picked me to be the brunt of his frustrations. How lucky am I? I'm not letting him hit me with a jolt of electricity.
"Nothing I want to talk about," Traveller responded. "Let's get this thing started. Whumm . . . Whumm . . . His saber hummed splitting the air with electricity.
"When you're ready," said Porter.
"Now!" Traveller shouted as he came forward slashing his blade in a series of ever faster blows. Whumm . . . Whumm . . . Sparks flew when his saber made contact with Porter's. Showers of electric sparks filled the air. Each blow left Porter's blade sizzling.
The man could feel the boy's frustration. He waited for the sword thrust that would surely follow the vigorous pounding of Traveller's blade. When it displayed in the boy's eyes, Porter jumped backward, twirled all the way around to the left and brought his blade down, it barely grazed Traveller's arm as he thrust his saber, but the electric pain opened his hand. He dropped his weapon. It fell with a whumm to spark on the floor.
Before Porter could take advantage of the disarmament, the boy impelled himself into Porter knocking him backward. Traveller drew his dagger from the back of his belt. He charged while his friend was trying to rebalance and stop his backward momentum.
Porter couldn't regain his feet fast enough to protect himself from the boy's onslaught so he continued going back. He fell then somersaulted away from the vicious attack. He came to his feet a few mezures away from Traveller’s charge and immediately impelled twenty mezures down court just as the boy thrust the dagger at his shadow.
“Lization! You lizard! Stay and fight!” Traveller shouted with his face deepening into violet. He impelled himself forward with his saber dragging behind him.
I knew he’d let his anger get the best of him, poor kid. Porter grabbed his saber with both hands, pointed it in front of him and impelled to meet Traveller.Chapter 5 - Reconnaissance
Traveller remembered slamming into what seemed like an electric wall. He could feel pinpoints of pain stabbing his chest. Porter was knelt down beside him. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
"What happened?" Traveller answered faintly, fingering the burnt spot on his chest. I was so angry. Why? Where did it all go?
"You impelled yourself onto the point of my sensory sword," Porter replied, gently moving Traveller's hand away then dabbing the wound with curemesh. "I'm sorry, my friend. I'm just not willing to be stunned with electricity."
"But how did you know I wouldn't win?"
"I studied the video replay of your level seven fights. I am a trained Benwarian protector. You let your anger get the best of you. There are a number of reasons."
"You studied my fights?"
"Yes. You are very impressive. You have the heart of a Lizerian battle commander, the speed of an assassin, but you lack self control and experience. Those things take time." Porter helped him sit up.
Porter sat down by his friend before putting his arm around the boy who had lost his temper. "I'm older, stronger, and have actually trained with some of the best saber fighters in Benwar. If I could've, I would've have let you win to build your confidence, but the thought of being knocked out with a saber jolt prevented me from indulging you. Why do you want to take your anger out on me?"
"I, I, don't know. You're the only friend I have," Traveller said with tears in his eyes. "I guess I want to be noticed, to know that I am good at something."
"If there were others your age on board, I'm sure you would be the best among them at saber fighting, but there aren't. Let me tell you something. Ship will not allow you to continue this self destructive behavior. I would fight with lower doses of electricity from now on before she bans you from fighting all together."
Traveller shook his head. "You see that what makes me so angry. Why don't I ever get to decide anything for myself? Why does Ship get to control my life? Or my parents, why do they get to decide what course my life takes?"
"It is the nature of all societies to guide and protect their young until they are old enough to make rational decisions. Your parents have your best interests at heart, however misguided you think they are. Imagine how you mother and father would feel if they found out you'd been killed by a holograph. They would be forever heart broken and shamed to know your life had served no meaningful purpose. In the end, it will be you who decides what course your life will take. You just have to be patient."
Porter's words calmed Traveller. He felt better with his friend's arm around his shoulders. He felt supported, comforted by the truth of the words. "I'm sorry Porter. You're a good friend, better than I deserve."
Porter thought for a moment before saying, "Listen, we had better leave before Ship shuts the court down. She might block us from sparring anyway. You've been stunned too many times. I'll talk to Logis; have him override Ship's regulations. I'll give you one more chance to beat me before I go."
"Really? You'd do that for me?"
"You're my friend, Traveller. That's what friends do. I will insist that we spar with the sabers on the light shock setting though. I can't stand self-inflicted pain. I leave in four cycles. Meet me here in two at eleven hundred parsecs."

Set at such a low intensity, Traveller's saber barely hummed when he sliced it through the air. He had talked to his father about saber fighting. Fa Orgen instructed him to use visualization techniques. "Visualize Porter. How does he fight? What are his habits? Visualize the fights you've had so far. What did each of them have in common?" his father had asked before adding, "I'll bet you were the aggressor in each one. You probably fought in anger."
Traveller had held his head down as he realized that his father understood him far better than he imagined. And then his father asked him something he found truly amazing, "Would you like me to spar with you?"
"Yes," he said.
They had gone to the training room. Traveller watched as his father set the saber on the lowest intensity possible. He followed his father's example. He would never ever do physical harm to his father. Even though he resented Fa Orgen, Traveller believed in the Benwarian culture. He loved his dad even if he'd never admit it.
"I will fight with a dagger," he had said. His father shrugged as if it were of no consequence.
Fa Orgen stood in the middle of the court with his front leg in an "L" shape and his back leg extended. "I'm ready," he said.
"Begin," Traveller replied circling around. He moved in with a slash that was deftly blocked. He pivoted, sliced his saber downward to be blocked again. With their sabers engaged his father pushed him backward and followed with a thrust. Traveller could feel a slight shock even though the blade hadn't penetrated. He impelled himself away waiting for his father to follow, but it didn't happen. His father was playing defense.
A vision came to Traveller. He impelled himself just inside his father's saber and brushed it aside, bearing the mild shock that came with contacting the blade. Pulling the dagger from its sheath with his left hand, he brought it down hard. His father met his arm to hold it in a steely grip.
Fa Orgen smiled with pride, "I was wondering what the dagger was for." He pushed Traveller away. Switching to offense, he followed with an attack of his own.
The son parried the father's blows, surprised at their vehemence, surprised at Fa Orgen's strength. "Where did you learn to fight?" Traveller asked.
"I have my own VR unit. I practice with it. I spar occasionally with some of the protectors."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You never asked. You didn't seem interested in anything but yourself," Fa Orgen said suddenly jumping feet first into his son's legs. Traveller fell backward. He rolled when he saw his father spring to his feet, bring his saber up with both hands and drive it downward. The point hummed and sparked against the floor.
Traveller kicked his right leg into his father's feet causing him to stumble. Rolling over and up, he swung his saber in a wide arc that raked Fa Orgen's side brushing him with dull electric sparks.
"Good one," his father said. He crisscrossed his sword in front of him before attacking. Traveller impelled himself backward in a rapid succession of jumps as his father rushed forward with blows that made both sabers hum and arc. He waited until Fa Orgen thrust then he chopped downward with is sword, twirled forward along his father's right arm and then landed a killing thrust with his dagger. His father went down.
"You won," he said in amazement panting on the court floor.
"I won," Traveller said with wonder.
"Good job. Porter's trained you well," Fa Orgen said smiling with pride.
"He hasn't had time to teach me how to use the saber."
"Really? I certainly couldn't tell," his father said. "But he has taught you how to think and stay calm."
"Yes and he's helped me sort a few things out," Traveller said offering to help his father up. Fa Orgen grabbed his hand to be pulled to his feet.
The father put his arm around his son. "That was fun. We should do it more often."
"I'd like that," said Traveller.

The next day, Porter showed up for the scheduled fight. "I heard about the match with your father," he said.
"Oh really? How?"
"Your father called me to brag. He was excited, proud of his son."
Traveller turned blue. "He bragged about me?"
"Oh yes. Believe it or not your father is good with a saber. He was surprised at how fast and strong you are. He was caught completely off guard by your skills, the way you anticipated his moves."
Traveller smiled, please with himself. "I still can't beat you though."
"You never know. Maybe now that your anger is gone . . ."
"I'd rather not spar today, if that's all right."
"Really? Why?"
"I'm ashamed of the way I acted, trying to take my anger out on my best friend, my only friend."
"Don't worry about it. You didn't do anything wrong."
"So let's go to the arboretum, breathe in some fresh air,” the boy suggested.
“I’d like that.”
When they got there, Porter found a table under a gigantic umbrella tree. Long tendrils reached downward forming a leafy canopy that hung just above their heads. The moist, oxygenated air invigorated the two Benwarians.
“May I get you a goblet of water?” asked Traveller.
“That would be nice.”
Traveller followed a path that led to a synthesizer embedded in Ship’s wall. “Two waters please. Twenty centigrees cold,” he said then grabbed the goblets when they were filled. He returned to the table.
Porter stood to take the goblet from his friend. He held it up, “To life!”
They clinked their glasses together. “To life,” said Traveller before taking a drink in unison with his friend.
“So when exactly are you leaving?” the boy asked.
"We leave the day after tomorrow at four parsecs."
"So the three protectors that were awakened, they're to accompany you?"
"Yes, each one of us will have a separate ship on the travel pod. The ships will separate just outside Earth's atmosphere. Once there each protector will target a different land mass."
Traveller looked dreamy eyed as he imagined the adventure away from Ship. "So where are the protectors housed. I mean do you guys have separate living quarters or a barracks?"
"We live near the tail end of Ship. Each protector has a private room, but we share toilet facilities."
"So are the other protectors your friends?"
"Of course. Although I've only known one of them a few days."
"I would love to see where you live. I've always wanted to be a protector."
"I would be delighted. It's against protocol, but we're leaving and we are friends. Finish your water and I'll show you."
Traveller tipped his glass straight up to gulp as the liquid rushed down his throat. He slapped the goblet down empty, "Let's go," he said with the excitement evident on his face.
Porter smiled, "Just a centiparse, I'm not going to drown myself." He tipped his glass drinking in long pulls to keep his friend from getting impatient. "Okay, let’s go," he said when his glass emptied.

Porter and Traveller took a corridor shuttle to the aft part of Ship. It stopped at a series of doors each with the name of a protector etched on them. The one before the docking bay was labeled lavatory facilities. Porter stopped the shuttle, got out, cautioned his friend to wait a minute then went inside.
While Porter was gone, Traveller exited the shuttle to look out the gigantic window overlooking the docking bay. Below sat several hovercraft and space shuttles. There was even a space jet for high speed travel. By the universe, I would love to command that he thought as he imagined himself sitting at the controls with black surrounding him, the stars flying by.
Traveller heard the door slide open behind him, but it didn't break his reverie. I'd give anything to get off Ship. He sparkled with excitement as he shifted from foot to foot.
Porter cleared his throat. "Are you ready to meet my friends?" he asked.
"What? Oh . . . sure. I guess. You don't suppose that we could tour the flight deck afterward?"
Porter glanced at his chronotron. "Sure, I have a few parsecs before my briefing," he said. "Let me show you my quarters first."
They walked to the door closest to the bathroom entering when it opened. "There really isn’t much to see. A bed, my communications console, the overhead video screen, my flight simulator . . ."
"Flight simulator?"
"Yes. I'm trained to navigate every sub-ship you saw on the flight deck. I use it to practice."
"Even the space jet?"
"Yes, I've actually flown it twice."
"By the universe, what was it like?"
"Extremely fast. The stars looked like lines in space as they rushed by."
"I would give anything to fly one."
"Maybe you will someday, maybe you will." Porter pressed an icon on his console. "Will the protectors scheduled for the Earth mission come to my quarters? There's someone here I want you to meet."
Traveller evaluated each of the protectors as he shook hands with them. The first, Pelos, was muscular and tall with a strong grip and penetrating eyes. The second, Bashmin was short for a Benwarian but very stout with thick thighs and arms. His eyes were fierce and unwelcoming; they seemed almost vacuous for a Benwarian. The third, Melonious, shook his hand with friendly eyes. The only female of the bunch, she, too, was muscular with long slender legs, arms to match. Her demeanor suggested an intelligence that was intense, quick to discern.
"You envy us. It's in your face," she said after shaking hands.
"That's putting it mildly. I am bored. Life aboard Ship is boring. I want adventure. I want to sail into the unknown."
"We are all sailing into the unknown. You'll just be traveling there slower than us. Be careful what you wish for. From what we've discovered, Earth is a very dangerous place."
"But that's what I want. The only adventure here is provided by holograms."
"Well if you want to tour the flight deck, we'd better get going," Porter interrupted.
Traveller shook hands again with his new acquaintances. He and Porter followed the protectors out. They went left while Porter and he turned right. He watched Porter type his security code into the lock mechanism before they gained access to the stairs.
"Where's the space pod?" Traveller asked as they descended.
"There is a launching bay adjacent to the flight deck. It takes a double security code to gain access. I have to type in the correct number sequence plus put my thumb in the scanner to get into the bay."
"Why is that? I thought all Benwarians could be trusted."
"They can. No one has ever tried to get where their not supposed to be. I guess it's a holdover from the time on Benwar when we had enemies."
Porter and Traveller walked side by side through the flight deck. The protector pointed out the hovercraft explaining that they would be used for transport and clandestine missions. The space shuttles contained weapons systems. They were used for situations requiring speed and the quick reentry or exit of a planet's atmosphere. Developed for war, they contained a bombing bay. When they arrived at the pair of space jets, Traveller’s eyes grew wide with interest.
"You've actually flown in one of these?"
"Twice," Porter bragged, his face lit up with pride.
"What are they used for?"
"They're used for stealth and speed. They have a long distance atomic fuel system so that they can travel hundreds of cycles without exhausting their mobility. These vehicles contain light laser canons for offense along with force field capabilities for defense. The jets can transport up to four people. Their main purpose is to ensure the survival of our race in the event of a battle or catastrophe."
Traveller ran his hand down the side of the silicone surface. Its slick coldness felt like wet steel. "I don't suppose we could see the inside?"
"Ship?"
"You will have a decaparse to examine the interior. Remember Porter, you have a briefing soon. Do not be late. General Battier will be in attendance."
Traveller heard a whir as steps seemingly unfurled form the side of the jet. Porter led the way as the pair bounded upward into the interior. They found themselves inside a small hold with four seats. The walls were made of edible synthowafers. There was a small synthesizer to produce water. Porter moved to the front of the hold. A panel slid sideways to reveal a seat situated in front of a joy stick. There were two pedals on the floor. The front of the cab had an electronic control panel beneath a wide view screen made of transparent composites.
"That's it?" asked Traveller disappointed.
Porter smiled. "Its genius is its simplicity. The joy stick controls forward, sideways movement and elevation. The vehicle can stay parallel to the ground as it moves up and down. It can turn an almost ninety degree angle in any direction. The pedal on the right controls speed, the one on the left controls position. In the weeks I've practiced on it, I have found it to be challenging even with so few controls."
"You didn't practice navigating it on the home planet?"
"It didn't exist on the home planet. Fa Structor and the engineering team developed the space jet in space well after we left Benwar. All of the craft have been developed and improved by three generations of unfrozen Benwarians, with Ship's help of course."
"By the universe, you're lucky," Traveller marveled as they left the jet. “So show me the launch tube. I would love to see it.”
“I don’t have time. See that door over there,” Porter said pointing to the wall on their left. “That’s where we enter.” The outline of small forlorn rectangle could barely be distinguished in the white wall.
“I don’t suppose I can stay here to look around?” Traveller asked.
Ship answered. “No unauthorized personnel are allowed on the flight deck without the supervision of a protector. You are required to exit with Porter who now has five centiparses before his briefing with General Battier.”
“Thanks Ship. Porter was right. You are as kind as a Lizerian.”
“I in no way resemble a Lizerian. I am neither kind nor cruel. I exist to serve the Benwarians traveling inside of me . . .”
“Great. You had to provoke a lecture. He didn’t mean it Ship. It was a joke.”
“What Traveller said is not a joke. It did not provoke laughter from you or me. His words were sarcastic. He said one thing when he meant another. Adult Benwarians say what they mean.”
“You are right Ship. We’re leaving now. Thanks for the lecture, it’s been most helpful,” said Porter. He nudged Traveller, pleased with his undetected sarcasm but even more pleased with Ship’s silence. Chapter 6 - Ship
Porter’s conversation with Ship stimulated Traveller’s curiosity. That night at the dinner table he asked his father, “Porter and I took a tour of the flight deck today. Ship seemed to be spying on us. Does she watch everyone? I mean can she see and listen to us right now?”
“No. Our living complex is set to privacy. Only when I contact her is she able to see inside our quarters.”
“What about everyone else?”
“She monitors the corridors and all other public areas. She also watches the labs and other work areas so that she can offer advice and ensure safety protocols. Only members of the Sanctum Just are allowed to override her. For instance, if for some strange reason I didn’t want her observing one of my experiments, I could put my lab in private mode with this key,” Fa Orgen pulled a flat pendant from under his body suit.
“Oh, so that must be inserted in the slot next to your lab door.”
“Exactly. It also allows me entrance to any place on the spacecraft except for Logis’s or General Battier’s living quarters.”
“Even the flight deck?”
“Yes.”
“What about the space accelerator.”
“Yes, but why would I want to be in there?”
“I don’t know. I’m just curious,” Traveller said.
“What if someone did something harmful? Could Ship do something about it?”
“Yes. She could contact the protectors. At her discretion she could isolate an area of the ship with a force field and detain someone for up to an hour.”
“Could she physically harm someone?”
“No, not without direct orders from the Sanctum Just.”
“So when Porter and I were talking to her could she also carry on a conversation with someone else?”
“Of course. Her actions are not linear but multi-linear. She is partly a supercomputer able to perform hundreds of interactions per milliparse. Her voice is digitally re-mastered with each conversation. She is one of Benwar’s greatest achievements.”
“If only part of her is a supercomputer what is the rest of her?”
“She has a biological brain that thinks, learns, and feels. Her electronic circuitry is integrated into biological subsystems. I guess you could say she’s part Benwarian and part machine, kind of like a cyborg. We were able to give her restricted free will by establishing boundaries within the computer programming. Thus she cannot harm a sentient being without permission. We also included a failsafe mechanism that allows us to manually override her in case of a computer glitch or virus.”
“So where are these controls?”
“On the command panels that we members of the Sanctum Just carry.”
“Is there any way someone can escape detection?”
Fa Orgen laughed, “One time I left the exercise room with a VR suit on, it was activated but set to standby. In the corridors I asked Ship a question, she didn’t answer. I had the transcom off. Not until I removed the helmet did she respond. She answered my question so I put the helmet back on and walked home. When I got to our doors, they didn’t open at my approach. I don’t think she could ‘see’ me. I’ve never thought about that until now. Not until I deactivated the suit completely did she recognize me and open the doors.”
“So she’s not infallible.”
“Nothing in the universe is infallible, Traveller. Nothing.”

The next day Traveller called Porter, “Hey, I was wondering, you’re going to be leaving tomorrow. Can I pick up my VR suit today? I promise never to put it on death mode or even stun again. I’ve thought about what you’ve said, I see now that my anger is counterproductive.”
“Hi Traveller! How are you today?” Porter queried with a smile.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m fine. How are you?”
“I am acroluminous, filled with anticipation.”
“I’ll bet,” Traveller said patiently. “How did your briefing go?”
“Fine. Nothing I couldn’t have anticipated. Battier told us not to get involved with the Earthlings. We are to keep to ourselves and observe. Take environmental and climate measurements. Catalog plant and animal species, all the usual stuff.”
“So how about it? Can I have the suit back?”
“Yes, I suppose. I’m leaving tomorrow. Will you be there to see me off?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” said Traveller. “Can I come over and get it now?”
“Sure. I’m busy, but I can spare a minute for a friend.”

Traveller was on his best behavior at dinner that night. “Thanks for the wonderful meal, Mother. I’ll take care of the dishes.”
“Really? Are you sure?” she said in disbelief.
“Mom, I know I’ve acted like a Lizerian lately. It’s the least I can do.”
He watched his father nod with approval. Traveller quickly cleared the table putting the dishes on the cleaning tray then inserting them in the laser washer.
“Fa Orgen, do you mind if I go to the exercise court tonight?”
“Traveller, I can’t tell you how glad I am that things are back to normal. No angry teenager to contend with. Of course you can go.”
"I'll be late so don't wait up for me."
"You are going to the launch tomorrow?"
"Sure, unless I sleep in. I've already said goodbye to Porter." Traveller kissed his father's cheek before he approached his mother who was waiting at the door. She held her arms open, hopeful. Traveller hugged her, kissed her on the forehead. "Goodbye Mom."
Once outside their quarters, Traveller sprinted to the exercise court. When the doors opened at his approach, he rushed through. His hands shaking with excitement, he pulled the VR suit from his locker.
With the suit on standby he walked down the corridor. Traveller turned the transcom on, "Ship? Ship? Can you hear me?"
A long pause ensued before she responded, "I am not getting a body signature. Is anyone there?" Traveller retraced his steps until he stood before the exercise court.
Traveller didn't answer, didn't have to. Ship's question told him all he needed to know. He took out his sensory dagger then activated it. The dagger had his name etched into the electronic circuitry so that when it was used it registered as Traveller Orgen. The doors opened and he slipped back into the court.
"Traveller?" Ship asked. "Did you summon me from the corridor earlier?"
"No. Is everything okay?"
"Yes. My register shows that someone in that vicinity called my name at eight o three parsecs. My voice register indicates it was you."
"You must be mistaken; I was in the exercise room then. I am still here. Are you sure?" he said.
Ship wasn't programmed to detect subterfuge. Anything the Benwarians said was taken at face value as the truth. There was a long pause as Ship performed a diagnostic analysis. She could detect nothing in the halls. Even the digital video playback showed nothing. Since the VR suit was white and the corridor was white Traveller had been indistinguishable as he plastered himself against the wall. "I will think about," Ship said.
It would take minutes to analyze all of the possibilities.
Traveller sat his sensory saber in the middle of the court and activated it then exited the room. He ran down the length of the corridor until it teed in two directions. He turned left toward his parent's quarters loping with long strides. Once there he activated the dagger to gain access, the doors slid open.
Ship's monitors now showed Traveller in two places temporarily. Her sensors showed that he was in the exercise room, but had suddenly appeared outside the Orgen's quarters for three milliparses. She was confused for the first time in her existence. She activated the digital cameras for a visual and found him in neither place.
While Ship froze with indecision, not knowing whether there was a decision to be made, Traveller sneaked into his parent's bedroom. Once inside, he waited to see if there was any response. His father rolled over; rested his arm on his mother.
Quickly, Traveller moved to the closet. He found his father's bodysuit. He searched it looking for the Sanctum Just pendant. It wasn't there. Something rustled behind him and he froze. Where would he put it? Where would I keep it?
In a vision it came to him. He waited until the room grew quiet again. With the silence he impelled himself to the nightstand on his father's side of the bed. The moment froze as he pushed the open icon on top of the stand. The drawer slid out, his hand slid in, the pendant was his. He manually shut the drawer before slipping out of the room. Before he left the apartment, Traveller went to his own room. He activated his dagger and put it under the blankets of the bed. Moving as fast as possible, he walked into the living room and impelled to the doors leading to the corridor. He pressed the manual control on the wall panel. A bright rectangle of light appeared as Traveller stepped into the corridor.
Now Traveller's signature appeared in two places on Ship's monitor, but a visual indicated that he wasn't in the exercise room therefore Ship deduced that he had left his saber sword on the floor. Her programming indicated that that was the only possibility. Why he had left it activated was beyond her understanding of Benwarian behavior. She turned it off.
Traveller used his father's pendant to open the door to the exercise room. It alarmed him to find the lights off as well as his saber sword deactivated. It was pitchblack inside. How am I going to get the saber without alarming Ship? If she knows I'm here, she'll know I'm not in my bedroom. An idea born of desperation came to him. He pulled his helmet off.
"Ship? Why did you turn the lights off?"
It took over a deciparse for Ship to answer. "I thought you were in your bedroom. That's what my sensors indicate."
"I'm still here Ship," he was saying as the lights came on. "Thank you."
Traveller picked up his saber. "I'm going home now. I suggest you have Fa Structor give your circuits a good cleaning in the morning." Traveller kept the helmet off and retraced his steps. When he arrived at the family's living quarters, the doors opened but he stayed in the corridor and stuck his hand inside to close them. As they were sliding together, Traveller put the helmet on, flattened himself against the wall then stood still. The corridor cameras whirred searching for movement but none could be detected.
It was late at night. Only one other Benwarian had his eyes open. He was in the control room monitoring crucial subsystems like life support. Ship was the only one Traveller had to fool. It was easy. He stayed against the wall then did a series of five mezure jumps keeping himself in the same position. When he came to a T in the corridor, Traveller slid around the corner in the direction of the flight deck. Ten jumps later he found himself outside the door of Fa Bashmin. Although Traveller judged him to be the strongest of the other three protectors, the boy's instincts suggested that he would be the easiest to fool.
Traveller used the pendant to gain access to Bashim's apartment. When the doors slid open, Bashim stirred but didn't wake up. The boy slipped inside, stayed against the wall and waited as the light from the corridor shrunk into a thin line then disappeared leaving the room dark again. He checked the chronotron inside the VR suit, three parsecs before the protectors were scheduled to depart. I'll wait, he thought as he pealed the VR suit off.
Chapter 7 - Earth Launch
At one parsec to launch Ship's voice filled the apartment. "Fa Bashim Stout your departure is scheduled for one parsec from now. It is time to awaken. It is time to awaken. It is time to awaken."
Bashim opened one eye, grumbled, then rolled over. He put the pillow over his head.
How can he stand Ship's voice? Why doesn't he get out of bed? Traveller thought.
"It is time to awaken. It is time to awaken. It is time to . . .”
"Lization! Get out of bed!" Traveller shouted.
Now Bashim opened his eyes. He rolled over, sat up. "What are you doing here?" Once he sat up the voice stopped. Ship focused elsewhere as Traveller knew she would.
"Fa Structor sent me to check your interstellar suit. She detected a malfunction in one of them so we’re checking them all before the protectors depart."
"It's in the closet," Bashim said as Traveller hurried to get the suit and put it on. "Say, aren't you the boy Porter introduced us to?" It never occurred to Bashim to question the boy's presence. As far as he knew all Benwarians could be trusted. They were trained in ethics. Trust was one of their most basic beliefs.
"Yes. I've been assigned to the engineering team for training," Traveller said. He shrugged Bashim's suit on. It was a little too short and somewhat baggy, but Traveller barely noticed. He put the helmet on. "I'll need your activation code."
Bashim cocked an eyebrow. "Fa Structor didn't give you an override?"
"No. We're wasting time. You depart in .75 parsecs."
"Benwar Earth four."
Traveller typed the code on the wrist control almost before the last syllable of Bashim’s words sounded. The suit activated. He impelled himself to the wall where his VR suit lay in a heap, picked up his sensory saber, set it to stun.
Not until Bashim heard the hum of the sword did he realize what was going on. He charged the boy knocking him against the wall. The protector tried to grasp Traveller's wrist and wrench the saber way, but a knee to the groin took the man’s breath away, doubled him over. There was blinding electric pain before Bashim's world turned black.
With the suit on, Traveller would register as Bashim. He smiled as he stuffed the torn blanket inside the suit to bulk up. Now all he had to do is get on the space bullet with out being detected. He would wait, be late, hope Porter didn’t out him.

A podium was set up just outside of the space accelerator doors. Three protectors stood behind Logis as he addressed the thirty or so Benwarians who had gotten up early enough to see the launch. Traveller watched through the clear panel for just the right moment and then he removed his helmet, opened the doors, and headed down the stairs. He watched the crowd. When one of the protectors glanced up, he hastily jammed the helmet on his head.
“Our hopes and aspirations rest with these four men who have volunteered to evaluate the planet Earth, to prepare the way for our colonization, and to send back reconnaissance information to make our mission a success,” Traveller could hear the muffled words of Logis. He held his head down, climbed the stairs and stood in line with the protectors. Luckily, Porter was on the far end of the group.
When the speech ended, Traveller held his hands up before he bowed. The protectors, more humble than their infiltrator, simply bowed. With the ceremony over, the group filed past Logis and shook hands. The real protectors placed their helmets on afterward.
Traveller brought up the end of the line. When he got to Logis, his head was held down as if in shame. “Running a little late?” asked their leader, the Chosen One.
“Sorry Fa Gnoeth. I was so excited, I didn’t sleep.”
“I understand. Good luck. May you find favor in the universe,” he said not suspecting that it was Traveller. None of the Benwarians saw anything amiss. They never questioned the lumpy interstellar suit or the not quite deep enough voice. What Traveller was attempting lay beyond their comprehension.
“Thank you Fa Gnoeth. May your journey be pleasant,” Traveller said with his heart pounding. He turned and followed the other three into the launch tube.
Once inside, Traveller couldn’t contain an expression of awe. “By the universe,” he said. The spacecraft stretched to the distance of over seventy-five mezures. The front tapered to a point, the back was flat. There we two view panels on this side of the ship.
Porter turned to look at him. After a long silence, he asked, “What did you say?”
Traveller deepened his voice. He felt Porter’s gaze, “I said by the universe.”
Porter smiled. “Oh. By the way, your pod is on the other side.”
“Yeah, right. I just wanted to shake hands and say goodbye,” Traveller held his hand out.
“Good luck,” Porter said as they shook. He found something strange about Bashim’s voice and appearance, especially when the shake was brief, almost perfunctory.
When Porter turned away, Traveller impelled to the back of the accelerator bullet, ran across the flat part of it and impelled again. He landed just past the stairs that led up into the opening with the words ‘Benwar Earth 4’ above it. Up the stairs he bounded. Once inside the pod, he pushed ‘shut’ on the wall panel. The stairs retracted, the door closed. Traveller pressed the ‘lock’ icon before he sat in the pilot’s seat and smiled. Only a deciparse before the launch sequence started.

***

Suddenly Porter’s suspicions burgeoned into realization as he thought about Bashim, his demeanor, they way he talked, they way he stood. He would never enter the flight deck with his helmet on or raise his hands after the ceremony. Porter could hear the barrel contracting as it wrapped the pod in a launch tube. He could feel the energy buildup at the back of the ship. A port opened just wide enough for the pod to exit.
Porter pressed the icon for Bashim’s pod. “This is Porter Tellez. Are you well, Bashim?”
A pause ensued before ‘Bashim’ answered. The voice was forced, not as deep as it should be, “Hi Porter. I am fine.”
“You’re also not Bashim, are you?”
There was no answer. Now Porter was sure of his suspicions. “You Lizerian fool! Listen carefully, we’re about to blast off. You must activate your suit. It’s the third icon on your left wrist control.”
“How do you know I’m not Bashim?”
“There isn’t time for this, Traveller. What you did was foolish. Bashim was trained for the mission, you’re not. On the arm rest there’s an icon labeled chair restraints, activate it now!”
Porter could hear the countdown, “seven, six, five . . .”
Synchronized with the countdown, a deafening whining sound grew louder and louder. The locks on the bottom of the pod clicked open and retracted. “One, zero . . .”
Even with the restraints, the force pushed Porter flat against his chair as a deafening roar obliterated all other sensations.

***

Porter’s words penetrated Traveller’s juvenile impetuousness and tore it asunder. What am I doing? I don’t even know how to navigate this thing he thought as the restraining straps tightened against his body and head. A deciparse after the straps clicked into place, Traveller felt a mega force smash him against the seat. A white light was accompanied by a noise so loud that it penetrated his whole body when it flashed. He lost consciousness.

Traveller could see his father running toward him with arms opened wide. He could hear him yelling something but the distance was too far to distinguish what it was. The words grew louder. As the boy regained his wits, he realized it wasn’t his father but Porter.
“Traveller, are you well? You need to answer me. Traveller?”
“Porter? What happened? I feel like I’ve been smashed into the seat.”
“Have the straps retracted?”
Traveller felt the straps but when he opened his eyes they were gone. “Yes.”
“Can you move?”
The boy lifted his right arm. A painful soreness ensued. The arm felt heavy, awkward. “Not very fast,” he replied.
“You’ll improve. Press the last icon on the bottom row of the left wrist control.”
The boy pressed the icon. He felt inflated as his buoyancy returned as if by magic. The extremely unpleasant sensation of being flat quickly dissipated. “By the universe, thank you,” he said.
“We’ll be outside of Earth’s atmosphere in a little over thirty parsecs. That’s all the time you will have to learn to fly the pod. Once we get to Earth, the master control at the front of the ship will target each pod to a different land mass. After that there may be no contact with other Benwarians. You could well be on your own.”
The weight of Porter’s words robbed Traveller of what little confidence he had left. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe my Lizerian stupidity.”
“What you did violates all you have learned as a Benwarian, but that is irrelevant. Hopefully, you’ll have time to think about your mistakes when you land on Earth. Bashim had spectrometer implants. Do you know what those are?”
“A device that measures something?’
“They’re devices that allow the wearer to assess a person by evaluating the colors of the lights that emanate from a their soul. The protectors are to use them to see how humans differ from Benwarians. They will also allow us to gauge whether a person can be trusted or not and whether their intentions are good or bad. Unfortunately you won’t be able to do that. You will be at a disadvantage in dealing with the Earthlings without them.
“But that doesn’t matter right now. You have to learn to fly your pod well enough to land it. Your helmet contains a flight simulation program. Familiarize yourself with the controls and start practicing. Make sure you know how to operate the camouflaging unit. If the Earthlings spot you, they might try to destroy your ship.”
Porter’ words again brought a realization to his youthful brain. This is dangerous. I might be killed. What am I going to do when I get there? I don’t know how to speak the language. “Porter? How am I going to talk to the Earthlings?”
“There’s a universal translator on board the ship. If you land safely, you can use it to interpret and communicate. Do not make contact with the natives until you’ve had time to evaluate your situation, but don’t worry about that. Learn to fly the pod or there won’t be any contact except for a fiery explosion when you crash.”
“I hope you’re not trying to build my confidence,” Traveller said with a hint of sarcasm.
“Far from it. I’m trying to make your realize the gravity of your situation. This isn’t like fighting a holographic image of a Lizerian. This is real. We’ll talk later.”
Porter cut the communication off abruptly to emphasize his point. For the first time in his sheltered life, Traveller knew fear. His apprehension grew when he activated the VR sequence. A complicated sequence of controls appeared before him. He didn’t know what any of them were for. Luckily, he remembered the tour of the space jet. It helped him realize that the stick in front of him controlled the craft, but it was too far away to manipulate. There were also pedals on either side of the control stick.
Traveller looked down. Two black crevasses led to either side of the stick. There must be controls to move the seat forward. He took the helmet off then looked until he found a lever on the right side of the seat. When he pushed it forward it moved him toward the control lever. Chapter 8 - Flight Lessons
With the helmet back on, Traveller pushed the lever forward and pushed the right pedal down, the virtual reality ship shot down over the holographic landscape. When he moved it back, the craft elevated. It stopped when the control was brought back to the neutral position and he let up on the pedal. Pulling the stick right moved the craft right, pulling it back brought the craft up.
He operated the pod in clear blue skies until gaining a confidence in its feel. Traveller pushed the level two icon on his left wrist. Now the controls became more sensitive. He pushed the lever forward, pushed the accelerator pedal then crashed into a rock formation that suddenly appeared on screen. The VR helmet went blank. By the universe! Now what do I do? He pressed the row of icons on the control panel of his left hand, the screen remained blank so Traveller removed his helmet. There was a red power button on the right side of it which he pushed to no effect. Lization! There must be a delay mechanism before you can begin the next flight. I’ll have to elevate and go slower until I know the terrain. That is why there is a delay, so I can think about what I did wrong. Traveller pressed the power button every deciparse until it came on. It took over a quarter parse before the helmet activated again.
Once it went live, he put the helmet on, elevated the pod until it was flying over red rock bluffs and trees. The pod was sped up, slowed down, elevated, descended, turned right and turned left with ever greater speed. Once he became comfortable again, the craft was descended into a series of obstacles. A tree loomed in front of the craft; he turned left and elevated then dipped back down. The pod shot toward a bluff, he sped up. Just mezures before the rock, he pulled the lever all the way back. The view screen filled with red sand rock speeding by as the craft scaled the cliff with just inches to spare.
When he brought the craft back down, it sped toward a series of trees arranged in offset rows. He maneuvered the pod left and right to avoid crashing into them. Unconsciously, he had pushed the accelerator down to speed up. Left then right, he brushed the foliage as the trees became denser. Suddenly a mass of green filled the screen. Traveller pulled back hard on the stick and let up on the accelerator pedal. The pod screeched as it brushed through the small branches and leaves of the tree’s top. The screen in his helmet flashed ‘danger’.
Traveller spent over a parsec on level two without wrecking. Afterward, he took the helmet off to stand up and stretch. An examination of the wrist controls revealed that there were three more levels of difficulty.
Level three would have to wait. His parched throat screamed for relief. The boy looked around until he found the synthesizer behind him. There were three icons on the panel above. One for water, one for Blast, and one for food. He pressed the first icon. Before the glass completely filled, Traveller grabbed it and gulped the sparkling water down washing the parched feeling away. He put the glass back in the tray before pushing Blast. The specially formulated energy drink flowed into the clear glass filling it with a yellow liquid that contained oxygenators, electrolytes, minerals, and vitamins. The drink renewed him, his second wind returned.
Back into the seat, helmet on, go! The ship elevated, there was a blur to the right of him, a blast. The screen went dead. Lization! What was that? I just wasted ten deciparses.
Screen back on, Traveller jerked the control lever left then straight. A blast reverberated but it missed. He pulled the control back while pushing the accelerator pedal down. Checking the controls brought disappointment along with frustration. There were no weapons systems. Scanning right he picked up a spacecraft barreling toward him. He banked toward it and down. A laser beam grazed the front of his ship. This isn’t right. That ship is too fast to avoid. There is no way I can win. Traveller banked left then right. Each bank narrowly avoided the cannon fire from the other spacecraft. He was just elevating when a blinding light engulfed the ship. The helmet went blank again. Lization! What happened? The spaceship wasn’t even close. Don’t tell me there are two spaceships at this level. He took a breath to think. There was no way to win. He had no weapons systems; his ship was slower than the attackers’.
Ten deciparses later the screen activated. This time Traveller sped toward the tree maize with the two ships in hot pursuit. After he passed the first tree, the lever was pulled hard right and backward. As the pod elevated sharp right, the two ships sped past. He pushed the pedal to the floor then circled around until he was traveling along the face of a red rock cliff. When he reached a gap in the wall, the ship was banked hard left. Traveller lifted his foot off the pedal, pulled back on the control stick and landed in some shrubs. Seconds later, the attackers sped overhead. At the same time, digits appeared in his lower screen. Now at a half parsec, they were going backward to zero. Maybe that’s it. If you can last a parsec, you win.
With ten deciparses to go, a harsh whining reached Traveller’s ears. Looking over his right shoulder, he saw the attack craft. Panels opened on their wings, cannons popped out. He saw four blasts before his helmet went blank. By the universe! This is like fighting a Lizerian battle commander bare-handed.
He practiced for over three parsecs without resting. Traveller felt like a failure. He never lasted longer than his second attempt. The two attack craft had adjusted to his strategy of hiding. Now he was lucky to last twenty deciparses. His helmet had just gone blank again. Frustration erased any rational thoughts he might have had. Lization! I hate this! I’m never going to learn to fly this thing before we reach Earth. Why in the universe didn’t the engineers include a weapons system?
A voice interrupted Traveller’s thoughts, “How are you doing?” It was Porter.
“This stinks! I am getting worse not better. Why aren’t there any weapons so I can defend myself!” he yelled.
There was no answer. He activated his transcom. “Porter?” What did I do? I know what I did. How many times has he told me to stay calm? I raised my voice, displayed anger. No wonder he won’t answer.
“Porter? I am sorry. I’ll calm down.” Still no answer. Traveller put his hand on his stomach and took a deep breath. He breathed out imagining that his anger rode on the air that left his body. It took ten deep breathes and exhales before he calmed.
Nothing to do but try again. Lization I hope he calls back. The helmet lit up. This time the pod was high above the landscape. He could see the attack craft screaming upward to intercept. He pushed the joystick down along with the accelerator pedal just as the cannon blasts flashed. There has to be something I’m missing he thought as the blasts rumbled overhead.
He looked at the series of controls in front of him. The milliparse his eyes left the sky, the spacecraft closed on him with canons blazing. His helmet went blank yet again.
When he felt the blinding anger consuming him, the helmet was removed. Traveller got off the pilot’s seat, stretched then breathed great breaths. Water was drunk, Blast came after. Even the hated synthowafers were munched and washed down with yellow liquid.
The only way to survive in the open sky would be if the attackers couldn’t see me. Porter said something about that, what was it? That’s it. There’s a camouflaging unit. I wonder what it does.
When his helmet activated again, he searched the controls. One of the icons had an eye with a cross through it. There it is! He started the game. Again the pod was high in the air above the landscape with the attack craft closing in on him. He pressed the eye, descended, then sped up. Now the attackers zoomed past him. They circled around as if confused.
It took over a half parsec before the two spacecraft spotted him again. The pod was cruising over the tree maze when the boy sensed something in his peripheral vision. He let up on the accelerator and put the joystick in neutral just in time to see two cannons blasts shoot past the nose of his craft. They saw me. This thing must take the color of its surroundings. There are probably too many contrasts here.
He pulled back on the lever, the pod shot up. The control was pulled until the pod looped back around. Traveller darted toward the red rock formation, pressed the camouflage icon again. When the pod traveled to a stretch of the face that was relatively the same color, he stopped it. The time mechanism displayed five deciparses left before he won the game.
The attack craft appeared in the right hand corner of his view screen screeching toward him. He took a deep breath, held his position. If I do anything, they see the movement. Just before the cliff face the attackers elevated to fly across the top of his pod. Wow! I thought I was dead. He waited, time ran out. The display blinked a green colored message that read ‘Winner!’

Traveller practiced flying for over fourteen parsecs before his eyelids became too heavy to keep open. The pod crashed into a tree, the helmet went blank, the boy slept. Twelve parsecs later, he awoke to Porter’s voice.
“Traveller?”
“Porter! I’m so sorry for being angry.”
“You didn’t hurt me. You hurt yourself. You’re self-control must be impeccable if you’re going to survive.
“We’ll be able to communicate with Ship in two parsecs, that’s when we’ll drop out of hyper speed. We’ll then have another two and a half parsecs before we split up and descend into Earth’s atmosphere. Are there any questions?”
“How do I gage the entry speed and the trajectory angle when the pod reaches Earth?”
“You don’t. Put the ship on autopilot. The onboard computer will calibrate those things.”
“What do I do when I get there?”
“The only thing you can do is learn all you can about Earth. There’s a lot of equipment on the pod you don’t know how to operate. I suggest you find a secluded spot to hide the pod in and stay there until you can scout around. Maybe we can find each other eventually.”
“Will we be able to communicate?”
“Don’t count on it. When the pods separate, we’ll lose our long distance communications except for digital signaling.”
“What am I going to tell my parents?”
“That you’re sorry. That you love them. That you’ll see them when they get to Earth.”
“Anything else?”
“There is a laser gun on the console to the right of the actual control panel. Set it on low and learn how to use it. You can weld with it, heat things, start a fire. It will come in handy.”
“Can I use it as a weapon?”
“No. Well I guess you could use it to laser something’s head off, if you could get whatever it was to stay still long enough.”
“Thanks Porter. If I survive, it will be because of you.”
“No. It’s entirely up to you. Control your temper and you might make it.”

The parsecond the pods dropped out of hyper speed, General Battier appeared on Traveller’s view screen. “Young man on behalf of the Sanctum Just, I have to say what you did goes against everything Benwar stands for. Truth, honesty, putting the country of Benwar first, honoring your father and mother. You have sabotaged our reconnaissance mission. We are extremely disappointed in you!”
The boy held his head down as he was berated by the military commander. “I am sorry, sir.”
“Sorry won’t enable you to run the mission Bashim was trained for. There are many instruments you are unfamiliar with. Fa Tellez will give you further instructions.”
“Please may I speak . . .” The screen went blank before he could finish his sentence. When he pressed the pod to Ship’s communications icon, there was no response.
He pressed the icon for Porter’s transcom. “Yes?” the protector asked.
“What am I going to do? General Battier called. He was very angry. When he finished reprimanding me, the screen went blank. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my parents.”
“What did you expect? You will have plenty of time to think about that later. You have two parsecs to try and learn some rudimentary Earth language. From what I’ve downloaded, try American English. You don’t have much time. Forget about the immediate past and concentrate on now. Use the satellite feeds and universal translator to glean the most important words. Learn how to say, ‘I come in peace’.”
“But I’m not ready.”
“It’s too late to worry about that. Study the language. I’ll say goodbye just before the pods separate.”
Stay calm. You brought this on yourself. Yes, but I’ll be totally alone on a planet full of who knows what kind of beings. Porter said to study the language, worrying won’t help. Traveller again took deep breathes to calm himself before engaging the translator. He would speak Benwarian into it and the device would repeat the phrase in English. When he said the phrase correctly he would move on. Sensing how important the lessons were, the boy forgot about everything else and concentrated.
Traveller targeted what he felt were the most important words. Water, food, peace, surrender, help were learned before he moved on to phrases like ‘I surrender’, ‘I come in peace’, ‘I’m hungry’, ‘Give me food’, ‘Hello, my name is Traveller’.
He repeated the phrases over and over again, visualizing the nouns and the actions of the verbs. It seemed like only a few deciparses had passed when Porter called. “Ten deciparses to entry. The separation sequence has begun. You’re a good kid, Traveller. Control your temper, think before you react. I hope to see you again.”
“Thank you Porter. No one could ask for a better friend. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye Traveller. May the universe grant you favor.”
There was a rumble. As the mother pod disintegrated, Traveller felt his pod’s engines engage. He pressed autopilot.
Chapter 9 - Southern Idaho

The boy had five deciparses before entry into the Earth’s atmosphere. He brought the pod’s schematics up on the view screen. The glider pod was encased in a wide, blunt cone that would deflect the friction heat. The shield consisted of temperature resistant metal alloys with a coil meshing. These tubes were filled with circulating cryogenic fluid that further reduced the heat. The schematic showed the fluid circulating and the pod tilting to follow the correct trajectory angle for reentry.
Traveller could feel the ship slow as it left space. The atmospheric friction caused a sound resembling the wind howling. The vehicle seemed to momentarily stall as it adjusted to ever denser air particles. At 30,000 mezures above the land surface a hydraulic ram pushed the air glider back and the cone detached. A sleek white plane emerged from the pod. Two wings telescoped outward to catch the wind and buoy the craft. A rudder emerged along with two tail fins. When the turbulent air buffeted the plane, Traveller engaged the stabilizer bars to smooth the ride. Once it flew true, he pushed the lever down and descended.
The spectacular view took his breath. The sun was climbing just above the eastern horizon. A golden light bathed the evergreens that in some places dotted and in other places covered the mountains that reared up only to fall into the valley that stretched ahead. Patches of deciduous trees painted a bright yellow brought contrast to the green landscape.
The shipboard compass display indicated that Traveller was heading north when he first spotted a small settlement nestled against the mountains. A few hundred dwellings were connected by two travel tracks, a thin one running east to west with a wider one running south to north. The houses concentrated at the intersections to become sparser in all directions. There were very few to the south of the settlement where the mountains started, quite a few going east and west until the mountains loomed up again. To the north several houses dotted the landscape in the middle of circles and squares of browns and yellows.
Traveller glided over the settlement. I wonder what’s down there. Do they have aircraft? He looked north and watched terra-pods coming and going in both directions. In the distant north a heavy concentration of dwellings stretched for as far as Traveller could see. A smoky haze of pollution hung over the settlements. It reminded him of the pictures he had seen of his own planet.
Traveller elevated the glider, sped up to head north. The closer he got to the larger settlement the more travel pods there were. Again he spotted an intersection with four thick travel lines that ran in four directions. There to his amazement the pods came to a stop. They concentrated and sat. Sometimes those headed east and west would go; sometimes those headed north and south would go. Then sometimes the traffic would stop to allow the pods to turn left and right to resume their journeys in a different direction.
He became so engrossed in watching the traffic that he descended, pulled the lever to neutral, let up on the accelerator and hovered over the intersection. Now all the terra-pods stopped. Earthlings exited their vehicles to look up at his craft and point. More and more pods came from all directions to stop and watch his craft. Earthlings poured out of the buildings to look up with one hand held over their eyes. What did Porter say? Avoid contact until you’ve had time to assess the Earthlings and here I am right in the middle of them. When he realized his mistake, the glider was elevated straight up. When it gained enough height, the camouflage icon was pushed. He laughed at the Earthlings when the craft disappeared. Some rotated their heads while others scratched them. Laughter filled the cockpit when he saw how hopelessly knotted together the vehicles were. His laughter stopped suddenly. Some of the vehicles had blue smoke roiling out of the back end. They burn fossil fuels. That’s what destroyed Lemmus.
Traveller headed the ship eastward, following a main artery of traffic. The highway crossed a wide river. Just before the river several vehicles resembling his sat on a black surface.
The terrapods moved east and then north across a bridge until they came to a vein that curved around into a much larger pathway that stretched east and west. Here large transport vehicles roared across the landscape in both directions spewing dark vapors behind them.
Curious, the alien descended to see inside the vehicles. Most of them contained only one Earthling, two at most. They traveled with extreme speeds for ground vehicles. Some of the large vehicles were empty, most contained heavy loads. He could tell by the way they held to the travel path.
Traveller didn’t realize that his glider showed against the varied colored background. The outer skin of the vehicle took on the dominant color of the area surrounding it. The craft was too low to be blue. With so many other colors, his ship changed from color to color making it very visible to those below.
It wasn’t long before the traffic stopped. Earthlings stood on the side of the freeway pointing and talking to each other. The beings in the large transports stood in their doorways communicating on some device they held to their mouths.
The boy noticed a warning signal on the right half of his view screen. A flight vehicle was approaching from the west. He pulled back on the control lever and accelerated. The glider elevated at a seventy-five degree angle. When it reached ninety degrees the craft fell backward into a loop until it situated itself directly over the airplane that had come from the place by the river. The small two-seater continued on eastward zig zagging in an attempt to relocate Traveller’s craft.
More and more vehicles stopped on the travel way below. Another plane roared eastward from the settlement with yet another following close behind it. Afraid of being attacked, Traveller gained elevation until his craft blended into the blue. He turned southward and accelerated toward the snowcapped mountains. His screen indicated no pursuit vehicles.
Once again the young Benwarian followed a pathway leading into the mountains. It dissected a small settlement then carried on for four of five mezures before winding its way upward. The travel way twisted and turned through the steep terrain. He followed it south and then east again until it came to yet another small cluster of houses and buildings. When the road turned south again, Traveller followed it until it ended at the foot of the mountains. He followed the contour of the terrain as it elevated. A patch of evergreens started at the top of a ridge to form a ‘v’ downward. His glider went up and then over the v. He kept going toward the blue sky until the glider circled well above the highest peak. A small round building with a window all the way around it sat on top of the mountain. It looked like some kind of observation post.
A small dirt road emerged from the trees to intersect another larger dirt road that traveled the mountain ridge. The southward side of the ridge fell off abruptly. At its top several Earthlings were strapping themselves in to a winged contraption before they ran and jumped off the ridge. The wind caught the gliders with their colorful yellow and red wings and they shot skyward while the Earthlings hung in the air on a frame as they flew out over the valley below.
Curiosity and envy overcame the young alien. He descended to watch the three hang gliders as they soared out over the trees. The Benwarian became so engrossed as he watched the Earthlings fly that he soon found himself so close to them that they could actually see him in his spacecraft. One of them took a hand off the bar he was holding and waved what appeared to be a hello.
Traveller longed to fly with them, to be out of the confines of his ship. He could only imagine breathing real air in a real world, one with plants and animals that belonged there. He had only experienced the artificial environment provided by Ship.
One of the gliders banked to get a closer look at him. The earthling came with a few mezures of his clear view panels. The Earthling and the Benwarian stared at each other for a long time before Traveller became nervous. He banked away to the west, elevated and disappeared into the blue sky.
Traveller set a circular flight pattern above the mountains. He wanted to find a secluded place to land so he could get out and sample the planetary air. The ship’s sensors had already indicated that the atmosphere was compatible with his physiology. It hadn’t occurred to him that he didn’t know how to land. Lization! I have to think better if I’m going to survive. I’ll put the ship on autopilot. It won’t take long to do a VR simulation.
There were two ways to bring the ship down. In the first one the ship was placed in hover mode at low elevation. In the VR simulation Traveller then pressed the land icon and three thruster ports would open on the bottom of the ship. Three streams of hot air produced by the hydrogen engines would then decrease in velocity until the craft sat down ever so gently.
The second method was to make a wheeled landing without putting power to the engines. This required a smooth runway. Instead of ports, three wheels descended. In this method, Traveller would match the line of the craft to the correct landing angle. The glider would then coast to a stop.
Both methods had their advantages. The thruster landing could be used on rocky terrain or where no suitable runway existed. However, the air used to land the plane created a fire hazard and left tell tale burn marks. The thrusters also made a screaming noise as the craft moved downward.
The glider method was soundless. All power to the engines was cut. There was no heat so the craft could be landed on dry grass or on smooth terrain with flammable plants. Traveller envisioned using both methods. Gliding down to a suitable landing area, stopping the craft, and then engaging the thrusters to set down.
Although Traveller didn’t know it, late fall signaled a decreased use of the Sawtooth Recreational Area. Deer hunting season had ended; fishing season was over, and ski season didn’t start until late November. Only a few hikers, hang gliders, or mountain bikers used the area at this time of year.
Confident that he could land the craft, he now needed a secluded place to land. He circled back toward where he had last seen the hang gliders. When he brought the craft down until it was just above the trees, Traveller saw one of the Earthlings descending into what look like an opening. Flying over it, he saw the glider land behind a large dwelling. In front of the dark brown wooden structure was a deck. Several wide ribbons of brown grass led back up the mountain and away from the building. Up one of the swaths steel poles climbed the slope. They were attached by cables. The cables had what appeared to be chairs dangling from them. He followed the line of poles to find it end on the top of the mountain. A clearing contained an even smaller wooden structure with windows.
Traveller banked the plane right to go west until the trees ended. A large swath of grass clearing sat adjacent to the evergreens. A pair of tracks led into a cluster of trees that surrounded what looked like the fire pits he had read about in his ancient studies. He guided his glider back down the mountain and then back up it to follow the road into the cove. Descending to twenty mezures he followed the track into the trees.
The Benwarian engaged the engines to stop the craft and hover only ten mezures off the ground. Using the thrusters, he landed. By the universe, I’ll be on solid ground for the first time in my life! Traveller cut the engines, unbuckled his containment straps then pressed the console icon to open the door. It slid open as a ramp slowly emerged from the ship. Traveller took his helmet off. For the first time in his short life, he breathed organic air. Its crisp scent carried the smell of what he later came to know as pine into his consciousness. It brought exhilaration to know that he had succeeded. He felt new, rewarded by the fresh atmosphere.
Traveller walked down the ramp. At its end he stepped onto the planet Earth. The brisk autumn air invigorated him as he walked around his craft and felt the shelter of the trees. The sun had traveled the sky until it cast its afternoon light on the highest peak. He took great deep breaths of air as he stared with awe at the glorious world around him.Chapter Ten - Lori
A junior at Idaho State University, Lori excelled in literature and the language arts. She loved the written word marveling at Shakespeare’s mastery, Milton’s imagery, and Steinbeck’s eloquence. She read voraciously. As she read, thoughts and images were written down in her journal. Lori recorded everything in the hopes of someday writing her own novel, but so far, no pressing truth or idea had brought her the motivation to do so.
Although, Lori considered herself to be a book worm, she loved the outdoors. Hiking, running, bicycling, and kayaking brought a welcome relief from the ubiquitous books and hours of study. Her dark shoulder length hair and brown eyes coupled with a dark Middle Eastern complexion gave her an exotic appearance. At five feet ten inches of height with a slender yet wiry build she exuded confidence and intelligence. Traits that most males found off-putting. Many of her brother’s friends felt intimidated by her knowledge and command of the English language. If they had a question about history or the British, she was the one to ask.
Her brother had begged her to accompany them to Mt. Harrison so she could drive the Dodge van back down the mountain and pick them up at the Pomerelle parking lot. Pomerelle, a ski resort nestled in the Sawtooths, had a spacious parking lot. At this time of the year no car sat in the lot. It was the perfect landing place for a hang glider.
Leaning on the front of the van, she had watched the strange airplane fly close to her brother as he soared in the mountain air. The craft had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. She had never seen an airplane like it before. It was sleek. It seemed to shimmer, change colors as it traveled the sky. She ascribed the changes to the mountain air and lighting, but still the craft seemed almost extraterrestrial.
Peering through the binoculars, she couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like the pilot of the craft and her brother were staring at each other as the airplane flew only ten or twenty yards away from Jesse. Jesse, always seeking the newest thrill, leaned to the right and drifted to the aircraft. When he did, the craft banked right also. It sped up into the sky to blend into the blue and disappear. She saw what seemed impossible, it simply disappeared. The experience brought butterflies of fear. Maybe I should drive down to the parking lot now. I don’t like being up here alone.
Lori shivered in the chill air. She climbed into the Dodge backed it around onto the road and drove back down the mountain heading east. When she arrived at the north south road she stopped at the sign. A county sheriff drove past slamming on the brakes of his Ford Bronco when he saw her. He backed up in front of her to make sure she knew he wanted to talk.
She watched the heavy set officer in his brown uniform amble around the Bronco until he stood before her open window. “Good afternoon, Sheriff.”
“Hello, miss. You haven’t seen a strange aircraft up here?” he asked.
“Yeah, I did. It was checking my brother out when he was hang gliding up by Mt. Harrison.”
“Up by the road to Thompson’s flat?”
“Yeah, just past there. Where the hang gliders jump. What is it?”
“I’m not sure. That’s what I’m going to find out. It’s probably just some new kind of aircraft. Well, thank you miss,” he said. He got back in his Bronco, backed up far enough to turn left, peeled out and shot up the road going west.
Lori turned right. Minutes later, she parked the Dodge along a bank cut out of the mountain in the Pomerelle lot. She grabbed Thomas Wolfe’s Electric Kool-aid Acid Test from the backseat and started reading. It detailed the adventures of Ken Kesey and a group of hippies as they traveled the country in a drug induced alternative reality. She was so engrossed in it that only occasionally did she glance up to check for her brother and his friends. She even forgot about the alien aircraft. She had found the book by reading Kesey’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Written in 1963, she had read somewhere that the movie was in production and would be released next year. It excited her to know that Jack Nicholson was to play the lead.
Lori was reading the part when Engber and Norman drove through the redwoods. They found Kesey’s house with its red, white, and blue mailbox. A fifteen foot tall sign read “The Merry Pranksters Welcome the Hells Angels.” The guys had just entered the house to find a young woman playing the guitar when something banged against Lori’s window.
She jumped, her heart jumped farther. Seemingly, it had dislodged from her sternum and now resided in her throat where it was beating so fast that the thought of it exploding occurred to her. “Damn you Jake! You want me to drive off and leave you guys?”
Jake was leaned against the bank laughing. “That’s what happens when your nose is glued to a book.”
“Maybe if I glued yours to one, you’d pass your literature class.”
“Well excuse me for livin’. No need to get rude. You didn’t hear me land? It took me ten minutes to unharness.”
“No. Did you see that airplane?”
“What airplane?”
“It was checking my brother out and then it just disappeared.”
“Yeah right.”
Lori got out of the van as another glider came done in the lot. It was Pete. He touched down with his feet moving to make a perfect landing. The yellow and red material billowed in the mountain breeze until they could contain it.
When everything was settled, Lori asked again. “Pete did you see that plane?”
“Yeah. Why?”
She wasn’t about to say it had suddenly disappeared for fear they would make fun of her. “The sheriff stopped me and asked about it. He was looking for it.”
“I looked back once and saw it by your brother. When I banked right to get a better look it was gone.”
“Yeah that’s right. I was watching it when all of the sudden it vanished,” she said.
“I didn’t see anything,” Jake said.
“You were already well down the ridge,” Pete explained.
Lori searched the sky, anxious to retrieve her brother and leave. She felt uneasy when he couldn’t be spotted. He took off just behind Pete. He should be here.
“Let’s load up and be ready when he gets here,” she suggested to the boys. They were freshmen and needed the common sense he provided.
With the hang gliders folded and placed in the back of the van, the two boys threw a Frisbee back and forth across the parking lot. Lori resumed reading despite her concern.
A half hour later, Jesse passed over the lot from the east. Going too fast to land, he circled around the lodge. His feet grazed the green shingles of the roof as the glider came back in from the south. He flew well past the van before bringing the glider came down to land.
He kicked out of his harness animated with excitement. “Did you see that?” Jesse shouted. “There was a guy in that plane. It was so weird. I swear to God he had a spacesuit on. And his eyes; they sparkled blue. They were the most intense things I’ve ever seen. I tried to get close enough to get a good look, but he took off. I swear the plane disappeared. There’s no way it could have traveled the sky that fast.”
“Yeah, I saw that,” said Pete.
“Did you see him, Lori?” Jesse asked.
“Yes. I saw him disappear, too. The sheriff stopped me on the way down and asked me if I’d seen a strange aircraft.”
“Really? Wow, I wonder what’s going on?” Jesse said.
“I don’t know but I need to get back and study for a test tomorrow,” Lori replied.
“Yeah, me too,” agreed Jake. “My parents said they’d cut my spending money down to nothing if I don’t bring my literature grade up.”
Chapter 11- Hypothermia

That night Lori was studying for an American Literature test when Jesse pounded on her door. "Come in," she invited.
"That looks boring," he said spying "The Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson.
"I'm enjoying it. I just read that the memorable words of history are often given in parables. He gives several examples such as 'Long lived trees make roots first'. I haven't heard that one before, but I like it. It can be taken so many ways."
"Yeah like I said, boring."
"Not for those of us who like to think."
"I'm a man of action. Thinking prevents a person from doing," Jesse stated emphatically.
"Doing something before you thought about it has always gotten you in trouble, Jesse."
"Oh well. Guess what I'm doing tomorrow?" he asked.
"It had better be going to class. If your grades get any lower you'll end up on probation. Mom and Dad aren't happy about your lack of effort."
"I've got plenty of time to raise my grades. I'm going back to Thompson's Flat."
"Why? You'd better not."
"I have to. I'm going to see if that plane is still around. That man's eyes. For some reason, I feel like I have to. I haven't thought about anything else. I was trying to study but I couldn't concentrate, I kept seeing those intense blue eyes. They sparkled."
"Who's going with you?"
"No one. Jake and Pete can't go. They have to study for tests."
Lori thought for a moment. "Listen, if you'll attend your eight to ten o'clock classes, I'll go with you. I have a philosophy class at nine. I'll meet you here at ten thirty."
"I don't know. I want to go as soon as possible."
"Remember, I'm supposed to keep an eye on you, report back to the parents. It won't hurt to wait."
"Okay, but you'd better be here 'cause I'm leaving with or without you."

Lori and her brother bounced up the washboard road leading to Thompson Flat leaving a trail of dust that roiled into the pine trees on the north side of the road. Lori drove trying to keep the old Dodge van from fish tailing off the road. Jesse was unusually quiet as he searched the skies for the airplane.
She turned left off the road and stopped pointed south. The sun was to their left. It bathed the east in a golden morning light. Jesse jumped out and scanned the horizon on all four sides. Seeing nothing he pulled the glider out and readied for a take-off.
Lori held the back end of the glider up to run behind her brother until he lifted off the ground. At the edge of the rocky ridge she stopped to watch him become airborne. The yellow and red glider juxtaposed itself against the blue sky. Jesse caught an upward draft to elevate far above the rocks. He flew south over the steep shale then out across the pined forest. The view made her think of Emerson's words regarding religion, something to the effect that God can be found in nature. She agreed with his criticism that religion put man and God first at the expense of nature. She looked at the majesty around her, the deep green pines, the yellow red rock formations, the white clouded blue sky, and the deep blue creek that foamed white with rushing water. These are manifestations of God. This is where He can be found not in a brick building or the mouth of a preacher.
Lori leaned against the van. She put a hand over her eyes to watch her brother soar away to the south. Not until he disappeared did she feel the chill of the mountain air. She climbed behind the wheel and propped her Emerson on the spokes and read. His writing was wordy and at times convoluted but his abiding love for the natural world was a central theme of his writing. She shared his reverence for nature, for the forests, and for wildlife.
A westerly wind came up, gusting and shaking the vehicle. The chill air permeated the cab; her hands grew cold. She read a final line before bookmarking her place. "I expand and live in the warm day like corn and melons." That's beautiful,
It wasn't a warm day but the fresh air would invigorate her. She donned a stocking hat and slipped on her ski gloves before opening the door and walking eastward along the ridge.
The stiff breeze at her back gently pushed her across the top of the ridge. Lori walked with long strides determined to get her aerobic exercise. Her focus stayed to the south in hopes of seeing her brother but the sky was clear of any flying objects.
After forty-five minutes of climbing, she sat on a rock to catch her breath. At the edge of the trees below her two deer emerged to walk down and across the road below. When they disappeared, the walk was resumed.
Lori came to the edge of the first ski run. A look at her watch indicated it was time to head back. Instead of following the ridge down, she walked north into the trees. A stillness rested on her shoulders, calmed her spirit as she felt what Emerson was trying to convey with words. Her love for trees, for the feeling she had inside of a forest brought reverence for what she felt to be holy. Lori stopped to breath in the pine scented air for several minutes before resuming her journey.
Her pace quickened as the downhill slope caused her stride to widen. Legs and arms moved in rhythm down the mountain trail she found herself on. Even her breathing became rhythmic. The endorphins kicked her into the euphoric high of exercise. Lori would have continued her pace unabated but she saw something in her peripheral vision. At first glance, it was a body.
Coming to an abrupt stop, Lori turned and saw nothing so she walked back up the trail slowly, her eyes searching to the west. There it was lying in a clump of aspens. Fearful, she stared for a minute hoping it was a mirage. When her vision held fast she walked toward the corpse. The closer she got the better she could discern the weird metallic suit adorning the prostrate body.
Anxious to help, she ran through the yellow leafed aspens as branches flicked her face, tore at her clothing. Lori saw no movement, but the corpse was face down. She knelt beside it to feel the neck for a pulse. The bluish skin felt like cold metal. Her hand was pressed harder and harder into the flesh in a desperate attempt to find the throbbing vein that would indicate life. Not until she pushed her fingers deep into the skin was a slight arrhythmic thump felt. He's alive!
She rolled him over barely noticing the almond shaped eyes and the slightly elongated features. There's a campsite to the west of here. If I can get him there, I can build a fire. He has to be suffering from hypothermia.
Lori bent down and grabbed the man under the armpits. Long and slender, his weight surprised her. She tugged. He moved reluctantly. She steeled herself, tugged again. This time when he moved, Lori kept him going using all the strength and determination she possessed. Once they cleared the brush, he pulled easier. It wasn't until then that the shoes were noticed. They were more like slippers and they were zipped to the funny suit he was wearing. She pulled the dead weight and glanced behind her. Only fifty yards more. She pulled and tugged until finally his body hit the pine needles to make dragging him easier. Minutes later his body lay next to the fire pit. She took her coat off and threw it over him. When she straightened and turned, the aircraft from yesterday sat just a few yards away.
The door was opened and a small ramp pointed the way inside. Maybe there's something I can use to cover him until I get a fire going. Lori bounded into the craft barley noticing the strange controls. Behind the cockpit there was a small cargo hold with several strange instruments straight from the set of Star Trek. In the back against the wall two large silver tarps were neatly folded. Without thinking, she got her arms under them and found that they were too heavy to lift at the same time so she took the top one.
Moving quickly, Lori placed the tarp over the body before she went back and retrieved the other one, throwing it on him also.
With the body now covered, Lori scoured the surrounding area for firewood. It took several minutes of frantic running back and forth before the pit was filled with broken branches and twigs. Now I know why Dad always told us to carry matches when we're out in the woods. She piled pine needles over the twigs then lit a fire. When it was burning hot, she ran.

Sore aching feet carried Lori back to the van. Once it started, she backed around shivering from the cold mountain air. Small red rocks flew behind the tires as her foot punched the accelerator down to fish tail across the turnout then into the road. A mile east, she turned right to climb the small road that led to the almost dead alien? Is he an alien? The equipment in that airplane didn't look like anything I've ever seen. She watched the smoke ascend into the sky as the van bounced along the rough terrain. I've still gotta pick my brother up.
Lori turned left at the fork in the road. Now pointed eastward, she could see the still form by the fire. Within minutes, she had stopped the van along side of him and got out. Her hand felt for a pulse on his neck. It's a little stronger now, more regular.
The sun sat just above the horizon. She checked her watch. I'd better get Jesse. He'll be worried. Lori lifted the blankets to check for a wrist pulse. She gripped his wrist at the same time his body started to shake uncontrollably. Startled, Lori jumped back and away.
The blankets shook for several moments as she watched the alien's face go from pale white to pale blue. His almond shaped eyelids fluttered. Despite her fear, Lori remained transfixed as she watched his face become ever bluer. Just as he flushed into baby blue, his eyes opened. Their sparkling blue intensity captivated her. Fear turned to wonder as a smile spread across the baby blue face to reveal the even white teeth of the alien.
Lori's eyes remained riveted on his face. His mouth moved. "Hello. My name is Traveller," he said in a mechanical voice.
Dumbstruck, Lori didn't reply.
After a moment he said, "I come in peace. I surrender."
"My name is Lori. Where are you from?"
"I'm hungry. Give me food."
"Do you dirnk coffee? Coff . . . ee," she said slowly.
"I'm hungry. Give me food," the alien repeated.
Lori got a thermos of coffee out of the van, poured some into the cup cap. After he sat up, she handed it to him.
He took the cup, sniffed then cocked his head. Slowly he brought it to his lips and sipped. Pleasure registered on his face.
"Grotol mahl wak bonbon," he said.
"You like?"
"Bonbon belli wak," he replied.
"I have to go now," she said pointing to the van while moving her hands in a driving motion. Lori pointed back down the mountain.
"Go? Mahl shuk de wah?" he asked.
She pointed to herself. "I will come back." Lori climbed in the truck with her heart near to breaking to see the forlorn look on the alien's face when she started the engine.
"Zeeze, zeeze," he pleaded as he looked up from the covers.
"I'll come back!" she said as she backed around to drive away into the dwindling light.

Ten minutes later, she pulled into the Pomerelle parking lot. Jesse had his glider folded in front of him. He was leaning against the bank on the east side of the lot.
"Where have you been? I've been waitng for over an hour."
"I found him!" she blurted.
"What?"
"I found the alien. His name is Traveller."
"No way."
"Yes way. Load your glider. I'll show you."
Jesse opened the back of the van. "What does he look like?" he asked, throwing the glider in then slamming the door.
"He's tall and blue with sparkling eyes," she said starting the engine. She took off before Jesse had his right leg in. His foot dragged in the dirt.
The light dwindled into silhouettes of trees against the red sunset as they climbed the road to Thompson Flat yet again. Lori turned on the lights to dispel the shadows and expose a tunnel of pines lining the road. Jesse listened with rapt attention as she described finding the alien suffering from hypothermia, how she had covered him then built the fire.
Once past the evergreen sentinels that lined the head-lamped road, she turned left to drive the edge of the forest. Three quarters of the way up the mountain, firelight flickered, reflecting off the tops of the pines. Lori turned left again into the circle of pines. The campfire danced ahead of her outlining a black form sitting near the flames.Chapter 12 - Revival

Traveller remembered leaving the circle of trees. He had followed a path that led upward onto the mountain ridge. Once there, the wind gusted cold bringing a novel pain that made his teeth knock together. It was akin to the low level electricity caused by the sensory saber except that it was continual, not as intense. Despite the discomfort, he had walked east up along the barren rocks until he came to a wide swath cut into the forest. The line of poles either began or ended there, he couldn’t tell. It fascinated him that at regular intervals, chairs hung from the cables that were attached to the brightly painted structures that sprung up from the ground like Lizerian torture posts.
The stiff breeze had driven the cold air through Traveller’s suit. He remembered his teeth clacking together uncontrollably. Sensing the danger, he had turned back to hurry downhill. When he had run, hoping to dispel the escalating discomfort, a foot had landed square on a pointed rock halting his downward rush. The pain penetrated and damaged causing him to slow into a limping walk. Instincts told him to cut down hill into the tress where it wasn’t so cold. That was it, that was all he could remember until his eyes had opened. It was then that he found himself looking into the eyes of what he assumed to be a female Earthling. Brown, her eyes were brown underneath shiny black hair. The kindness in them reminded him of Porter.
He regretted not having the words to convince her to stay. It embarrassed him to revert back into the Benwarian language. He hoped he hadn’t scared her off for good.
The beverage she had given tasted sweetly bitter, indescribably delicious in its novelty. The warmth put a final end to his shivering. A few deciparses after she left, he felt like he’d consumed a glass of Blast but the energy provided by the warm, dark liquid intensified into a jittery feeling that caused him to get out of the blankets. He walked several quick circles around the fire before climbing back into the blankets.
Except for the painful cold, Traveller was beginning to enjoy the changes in temperature. Sitting by the fire brought a sense of comfort. The changing colors of the flames mesmerized him as they danced yellow, red, and orange before his eyes. Engrossed by their beauty, he didn’t hear the van winding its way back up the road. Not until the headlamps illuminated the area did he become aware of the van’s approach. By the universe! She’s back. How nice.

“Hi Traveller,” Lori said loudly. “This . . . is . . . my . . . brother . . . Jesse.” She pointed at herself and then her brother as if he couldn’t smell that they were related. He stood keeping one of the coverings over his shoulders.
“Jess . . . see?” he mimicked. Lization I hope they don’t talk this slow all the time, it’ll be like being back on ship. Boring! Her brother looked to be about his age. He came forward with his hand out sideways. Traveller put his up palm out in the traditional Benwarian greeting. It pleased him that Jesse did the same. They joined palms.
“My name is Traveller. I come in peace,” he said wearing his best smile, one he had learned from Porter.
“Glad to meet you,” Jesse said.
“Bonbon tuk mui?” asked Traveller.
Jesse turned to his sister. “He’s an alien; doesn’t he have a language interpreter or something?”
It upset Traveller not to be able to understand what Jesse said. The chagrin caused him to remember the universal translator in his spacecraft. He gestured toward the open door. “Zeeze?” he said.
“I think he’s trying to say please. He kept saying that when I was going to leave,” Lori said.
“He wants us to see his spaceship,” said Jesse.
Traveller walked up the ramp turning to make sure they followed him. It wasn’t until then that he noticed Lori shivering with her arms folded in front of her. Activating the lights, he ushered them into his plane then gestured with one finger held up before impelling across the fire to get her coat.
“Wow! Did you see that?” he heard Jesse say.
“Far out,” said Lori watching Traveller pick up her coat only to disappear again. She felt him brush past to reappear in front of her with the coat held out. "Geez! Thank you."
"Tank ju," Traveller mimicked. The night air had transformed from cold to stinging cold. He pushed the panel and the door slid closed blocking the frigid night air.
Jesse was already sitting in the pilot's seat when Traveller turned back around.
"Yuk bonbon yewah," he said proudly.
"Damn, he really is an alien," Jesse said admiring the console.
Traveller brought the translator out from the cargo hold. He activated it then put the headpiece on. A microphone stretched from one of the earpieces to his mouth.
When he whispered Benwarian into it, English came out. He looked at Lori who was watching his every move as if she was afraid of being abducted. "Thank you," he said. "You saved my life."
She started to speak, but Traveller held a finger up halting her. He handed Lori the other head set. "You’re welcome," she spoke into the mouth piece. "Where are you from?" Jesse had swiveled the chair around to watch and listen.
"I come from a Ship," he said.
"You were born on a spaceship?" She spoke English, but Benwarian came out like a loud echo.
"Yes. My people, the Benwarians, originally came from the planet Lemmus, many light years away from here."
"Why are you here?"
"I ran away. I took a protector's place on a reconnaisance mission to your planet."
The word reconnaisance scared Lori. It had connotations of an invasion. "Are you going to attack our planet?" she asked.
"I don't know. We need a place to live. Our planet was destroyed."
"How many of you are there?"
"Two thousand four hundred."
"Where are they?"
"They are still on the way. It will take many cycles before Ship arrives."
"Why did you run away?"
"I was bored. There was no one my age on Ship."
"How many came with you?"
"Three. We come in peace. I have no weapons. Our mission is to study human life to prepare the way for my people."
Lori looked around without thinking. "Where are they?"
"I don't know. Each craft targeted a different land mass."
"Ask him if he has a ray gun," said Jesse.
"He said he didn't have any weapons."
When Traveller heard Jesse, he asked, "What did he say?"
"He's being stupid. He wants to know if you have a ray gun. He watches too much Star Trek."
Traveller retrieved his laser from behind some equipment. He handed it to Jesse.
"Far out!" Jesse exclaimed. "Ask him if I can fly his spaceship."
"I'm not going to ask him that."
"Ask him if we can call him Travis, Traveller's too long."
Lori took the headphones off, "Here you ask him," she said handing them over.
"Can I call you Travis?"
Traveller cocked his head, "I suppose so. Are you the one I saw flying over the mountains?"
"Yep," Jesse said proudly. "That's me."
A look of awe made Traveller's, Travis's eyes sparkle. "Can you teach me?"
"Sure. I love it. It's like being an eagle."
"What's an ee . . . gull?"
"A gigantic bird that soars free and fierce. It's black with a yellow beak and white head."
"Free? I don't understand that word," Travis replied.
"Free means you get to do what you want. You don't take orders from nobody."
"Anybody," Lori corrected.
"What did she say?" asked Travis.
"She's correcting my grammar," Jesse said contemptously.
"What is grammar?"
"The correct way of speaking and writing," Jesse said.
"I don't understand. If your meaning is clear, what difference does it make?" Traveller asked.
"Exactly. Did you hear that Miss Grammar Goody Two Shoes? Travis knows what he's talking about. We don't need no stinkin' grammar. Do we Travis?"
Lori rolled her eyes. "Yeah right, let's make him as ignorant as you are, Jesse."
Traveller sensed a change in Lori. She was slightly angered. "If it's important to you, Lori, then it must be important," he said holding his hand out palm up.
Lori placed her hand in it to be rewarded with the sense of calmness it conveyed. She twisted his microphone slightly and spoke into it, "Speaking correctly shows education and manners."
"But doesn't everyone speak the same way in your society?" asked Traveller moving the microphone back then twisting it out again so she could speak into it.
"Not at all. We have many different cultures and languages here in America. The different social classes can be identified by the way they speak. The lower classes speak like Jesse," Lori said.
"Hey! I know how to talk," Jesse protested.
Traveller ignored him, "Benwarians believe in equality. There are no social classes. The more primitive civilizations of Lemmus ranked people by wealth and power. Is that what it is like here?"
"Yes, race also plays a part in social status."
"What is race?"
"A group of people with a common genetic background," said Lori who had taken the headset back from Jesse.
"My homeland was an island. Everyone shared the same race and wealth. We tried to limit the power one had with a strict democratic vote on all major decisions."
"There are too many people in the United States for that kind of government. We elect representatives to make decisions for us."
"But how do you know they'll make the right decisions?"
"We don't. If we don't like what they've done, we vote them out of office in the next election."
"Isn't that too slow? What if something needs decided immediately?"
"We have an executive branch to make such decisions. Our president can make certain decisions by himself."
"But he or she would have too much power. How do you keep the president from becoming corrupt? I've been taught that power corrupts."
"The United States is dealing with that now. I hate President Nixon; he has lied and deceived the American people. We are engaged in a horrible, senseless war that no one wants because of politicians like him."
"You are at war? Where are the soldiers and the battles?"
"In a place called Vietnam, thousands of miles away from here."
"Your country invaded another? Why?"
"Because Americans place too much faith in their leadership. They eat the crap the politicians shovel," said Lori vehemently.
"You mean these politicians tell people what to do and they do it?"
"Pretty much. Thousands of young people have protested and many of those have been imprisoned or they moved to another country called Canada, but for the most part my people are easily led."
"I must learn about your world. These are the things the Benwarians would want to know," said Traveller.
Jesse held his hands out for the headset. "Enough of this depressing stuff. What do you eat?"
Traveller pulled some synthowafers from the cargo hold. He handed one to each of his new found friends. Jesse eye what appeared to be a wrapper encasing it. He tried to tear it off but there was no way to get a hold of it. "You eat the wrapper and all. It's made of protein," Traveller said.
Jesse bit into it. Even though the cracker had a slightly sweet taste and a crunchy texture, its blandness gave no pleasure. "This is all you've got?"
"Yes. It contains all the nutrients, vitamins, and minerals one needs to suvive. Back on the main ship we occassionally had other foods, but for the most part we existed on synthowafers."
"Oh Lord Lori we have got to get this guy some Mexican food. These things taste like sugared carboard, light on the sugar."
Lori bit into hers, chewed for a second then swallowed with a grimace. She stuck the rest of the wafer in her coat pocket. She looked at her watch. "It's almost eleven. We need to get back."
"Let's stay here tonight. I'll teach Traveller how to hang glide."
"You have a speech class tomorrow."
"I can miss it. We can go home tomorrow afternoon. There's a sleeping bag in the van and I can sleep under those tarps or blankets with Traveller."
"We don't even know if he wants us to stay," said Lori.
Traveller looked at Lori, "You saved my life. You are my friends. Of course, I want you to stay."
Lori gave Jesse a parental look, "We'll have to go back tomorrow afternoon. I'm not going to let you miss your Wednesday classes."
"All right! Wait until you hang glide, Travis. You'll never want to be on a spaceship again."

Chapter 13 - Hang Gliding
Traveller had found what he was searching for, friendship. He stayed awake long after the beds were made up. Lori lay curled up in the blue sleeping bag, and he was stretched out by Jesse who was dressed in weird looking quilted underwear that looked much like the red bodysuit he had on. He sighed contentedly before nodding off to sleep.
Hours later, sunlight heated the spaceship’s hull spilling warmth and light into spacecraft. Traveller awoke to find Lori staring down at him. "Just making sure this wasn't all a dream," she said apologetically.
Traveller rolled out of the space tarps then shrugged into his spacesuit. He activated the translator. “I did not understand,” he said.
When she repeated herself, he replied, "I was thinking the same thing until I heard Jesse breathing beside me."
"It's nine o'clock. We need to get going if he's going to teach you how to hang glide," she said gently nudging her brother with a toe.
Jesse stretched before jumping out of bed to get one of the synthowafers Traveller offered. The alien had opened the door, Lori had fetched the water bottles from the van, and they now sat drinking water and eating the alien crackers. The humans could feel the energy the tasteless food provided.
"Jesse, give Traveller your coat and you take mine. I'll wrap up in the sleeping bag. We don't want our alien friend to freeze again."
"You would give me your clothing? That is most generous, but I cannot accept."
"You have to Travis. You'll freeze to death without a coat. Lori's staying in the van anyway," Jesse said throwing his green down coat to his friend before taking his sister's. "Pink, my favorite color," he said as he put it on.
"You look marvelous," Lori joked.
"I just hope no one sees me."
Lori waited until his attention was diverted before she pointed her camera and took a snap shot of the blue alien in the green coat talking to the white human in the pink coat. When they turned at the click, she hurriedly put it back inside the sleeping bag.

At the jump site, Jesse explained how to get in the harness. "Watch," he instructed. When he was ready, he ran off the ledge to become air borne. The glider sailed up until Jesse leaned left to loop back around. He landed running fifty yards to the east of them.
Traveller ran to assist his friend. They untangled Jesse and carried the glider back to the starting point. When the alien signaled ready, Jesses let go to watch the alien run south in long graceful strides and jump from the steep slope.
By the universe, this is acroluminous Traveller thought as he soared over the shale slope and then out over the forest. The smell of pungent pine coupled with the fresh mountain air bought exhiliration coupled with a sense of freedom he had never experienced before. He soared up and out into the blue sky dotted with white puffy clouds. An updraft caught the glider. Traveller rode it into the belly of a low flying cloud feeling the water particles against his face. This moment was the greatest one in his short life. It was the first time he had ever felt free.
Banking right, he flew west around Mt. Harrison. A man sat in the lookout tower watching him with a set of black eye pieces. Traveller circled the tower, waved, and then flew north. Along the northern slope of the plateau, he spied several dwellings on the lee side of the mountain. The green roofs and brown logs made them seem a natural part of the landscape.
Nestled at the bottom of the mountain was a small town. Beyond the beginning of the Sawtooths, Traveller could see squares and circles of yellow stubble. They stretched eastward across the valley for as far as he could see. Enthralled by the view, he turned west directly into the path of a bald eagle.
The gigantic bird's fierce yellow eyes locked onto the alien's as if they were brethren. The bird's yellow hooked beak sat squarely in the middle of the white majestic crown that capped its large black body. Wings stretched for several mezures on either side of it. The yellow-taloned claws of the original master hang glider hung gracefully in the air. Its effortless flight across the blue sky painted a picture of freedom that etched itself on Traveller's mind for the rest of his days. He yearned to fly without the use of artificial appendages, to soar at will over the forests and mountains, to taste the real freedom of flight. He flew alongside the king of the skies for several mezures until crowned bird banked and flew down the slope. To follow it would be impossible, if he left the ridge he would never be able to get back to Lori and Jesse. He banked south and flew back along a creek that trickled in the grey-green shrubs below. Soon he found himself flying over the ridge road. Now he could see the tiny specks that were Lori and Jesse.
He descended, circled then landed in the tracks along the rim running.
“How did you do that? That was the smoothest landing I’ve ever seen and it’s within a hundred yards of the van,” Jesse marveled.
Traveller didn’t have the translator so all he could do was reply, “Bonbon benet gokim malaki.”
They loaded the glider. When everyone was seated, Jesse turned the translator on and gave Traveller the other pair of headphones. “What did you think?” he asked.
“I think I saw an eagle. It was black with a white head. I flew alongside of it for a while. I’ve never seen such an acroluminous creature!”
“Really? I’ve never been able to get close to one.”
“I’ve never felt so free. I saw the valley to the west. A ribbon of water flowed through it. The forests and rock formations, it was the greatest experience of my life.”
“Wait till we take you to the Pilot House for some Mexican food. You will go back with us?” Jesse asked as Lori headed the van downhill.
“Back?”
“Jesse, we can’t take him back to ISU. He’s an alien.”
“Why not? He can hide in my dorm room. I’ll take him to class with me.”
“No. If he’s discovered, they’ll take him away.”
“Who?”
“The military or somebody.”
“We can disguise him. A little face powder and a hat, he’ll fit right in.”
Lori looked at Traveller, “What do you want to do?”
“I’m here to study Earthlings. I want to go with you. Take me to your leader.”
Lori laughed. “How about we take you for Mexican food and then you hide out in my apartment where no on can talk to you?”
“I trust you, Lori. You saved my life,” he said before turning. “Jesse you are my friend. I will stay with Lori and go to class with you.”
“Great. Now here’s the important question. Lori, do you have enough money to pay for our food?” Jesse asked
“You pisher. Are you broke again?”
“I’m always broke,” Jesse said.
They talked and laughed as the van bounced on the washboard road to Albion. The dust roiled behind them until they turned onto the highway and then the noise slackened and the dust cleared. Thirty minutes later, Lori turned east on the I-84 freeway. The traffic was heavy. She braked to merge then sped forward when an opening presented itself.
Cars sped around them until Lori picked up speed to flow with the traffic. Traveller was spell bound. There were hundreds of cars headed west. There were also hundreds of cars going east. Most of them had only one or two people inside. It puzzled him.
“Why do all the Earthlings have their own vehicle? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have one vehicle that everyone could ride in? Then it wouldn’t smell so bad.”
“I don’t smell anything,” said Jesse.
“You can’t smell the burned fuel?” Traveller asked.
“Not really.”
“Remember the clean fresh air of the mountains? Take a deep breath and think. What does it smell like?” Traveller asked.
Jesse breathed in. “Okay, it smells like diesel fumes, but that’s because we’re following a truck.”
Lori sped up to pass the freighter they were following. Once she was past it, she said, “We’re just used to the smell and don’t think about it, but I can smell gasoline fumes now. That means there are particles in the air emitted from the cars on the freeway.”
“Yes,” said Traveller. “Eventually those particles will build up until they trap so much heat that they will destroy your planet. That’s what happened to Lemmus.”
“You’re too serious,” Jesse accused. “What are we going to do about it? Until they have train service or something, we’ll be driving just like everybody else.”
Eventually the freeway inclined upward through a small pass and then back down again. The Snake River appeared on their left. “Look at the river!” Traveller exclaimed. He watched the blue expanse for a while and then when he looked up again, he saw two bald eagles circling in the sky.
“Look, Jesse, those are like the bird I saw.”
“Yep, they’re bald eagles alright.”
Traveller watched the river with rapt attention. It flowed through shallow canyons and as the channel narrowed the Snake flowed ever more rapidly until the water splashed and turned white.
Jesse and Lori stayed quiet also. They wanted their friend to enjoy the scenery that they took for granted. Watching his enjoyment and awe renewed their sense of appreciation.
When the river and freeway diverged, the spell was broken. "That was beautiful. I never imagined there could be something so wonderful. The ancient films of my home planet contained nothing so close to raw creation. Even if it had had scenery unmarred by Lemmings the view would have been obscured by the smoke and pollution."
"It's just a river," joked Jesse.
"Oh Jesse, never take your planet for granted. If you Earthlings don't nurture and protect it, the Earth will become a boiling mass of sand like Lemmus," Traveller admonished.
"I don't like to think about things like that. It's depressing," said Jesse.
"Maybe that's why we met Traveller, to allow us to see the world through new eyes. What was it like to be born on a spaceship?" Lori asked.
"Ship was a world of walls and sliding doors. Nothing but slabs of white day after day unless I had my VR unit on which I did most of the time. Even then, my boredom choked me into desperation. Living totally among adults was stifling. I wasn't allowed to run or play, there were no other children my age. My only friend was Porter."
"Bummer man. I'll bet the food sucked," Jessed commented.
"Unless there was fresh plant foods harvested, it did. You tasted the synthowafers. That was what I ate.”
"Your steady diet of sugared cardboard has ended," Lori said as she excited the freeway a mile west of Pocatello. She turned left on the off ramp. Minutes later, the van screeched to a halt in front of a log cabin style restaurant with a sign that said 'Pilot House Restaurant'.
"We'd better leave the translator here," Lori cautioned.
"Aw, come on! We won't be able to talk," Jesse said.
"Damn it, Jesse! We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Look at him. Those sparkling blue eyes alone make him seem alien. Look at his body suit and shoes."
"Oh alright, Mom. Leave your machine here Travis," Jesse said. He took off his sister's pink coat. "Keep my coat on star man," he told Traveller.
Chapter 14 - Mexican Food
Traveller turned the translator off. He followed the Earthlings into the restaurant. Jesse stopped at the ‘Wait to be Seated’ sign. When the maitre de came over he said, "We'd like a booth in the back."
A short while after they were seated, a waitress brought a tray with tortilla chips, salsa, and refried beans. Jesse picked up a tortilla chip and dipped it in the refrieds. "See Travis," he said taking a bite.
Traveller mimicked his friend. The tortilla chips and bean dip filled his mouth with a taste he found unimaginably good. The beans were somewhat sweet and had a mush-like consistently while the chips were crunchy with a salty taste. It was a contrast of flavors and textures. He closed his eyes with pleasure.
When he opened them, he watched Lori dip a chip in the red salsa. As she took a bite, her face displayed pleasure. Eager for another new flavor, he quickly chewed the chip in his mouth barely remembering to swallow. Grabbing another chip, the alien used it to dive bomb the salsa. He held his hand under the dripping chip and stuffed it in his mouth. The combination of cilantro, jalapenos, tomatoes, and onions exploded with flavor. "Bon bon leti watwa!" he said.
Traveller grabbed another chip. First, he dipped it in the refrieds then it was drenched in salsa before he popped it in his mouth. The third chip produced a totally new flavor. This one tasted better than the other two. "Bon bon!"
"Go for it!" Jesse encouraged as the shoveling match commenced with Lori bowing out of the competition.
"Mausi, mausi," Traveller said when the chips and dips were gone.
The waitress had returned. When she heard Traveller, she asked, "Does he need more chips?"
"Yes, please," said Jesse, "and some more salsa and refrieds."
The waitress returned with another tray and her order tablet. "Are you guys ready?" she asked. Traveller was so intent on eating, he didn't look up.
Lori looked at Jesse. "What do you think he'd like?" she said watching him gorging on chips.
"Something without meat. Travis," Jesse nodded at the alien, "will have the chile relleno. I want steak enchiladas.”
“And I’ll have the cheese enchiladas,” said Lori.
As the waitress wrote their order down, she glanced at Traveller. “He must be starved.”
“He hasn’t had a decent meal in years,” Jesse joked.
“What’ll you guys have to drink?”
“Three cokes with lots of ice,” said Lori.
Twenty minutes later, their orders were placed before them. Traveller picked his tray up and sniffed it. He sat it back in the booth with a pained expression of his face. Lori followed his eyes and just before he dipped his fingers into the refrieds and rice, she said, “Here use your silverware.” She handed him a spoon then demonstrated its use by scooping some rice and beans into her own mouth.
The Benwarian unrolled his silverware from the green cloth napkin and grabbed his spoon when it clattered on the table. He took his first bite of rice and beans topped with cheese. He chewed, swallowed then exclaimed, “Boni bon bon!”
“Shh, shush,” Lori put one finger over her lips to quiet the out of control alien.
Traveller turned blue with embarrassment before the wonderful taste of the beans beckoned him and his spoon to the attack. Scoop, chew, swallow, scoop, chew, swallow. He paused to scrape some enchilada sauce over the rice and then it was scoop, chew, and swallow until the beans and rice were gone. Now he mustered himself for the assault on the chile relleno. Even Jesse couldn’t keep up with the alien eating-machine.
Lori had stopped eating to watch Traveller dig into the chilies. They had a fried egg on top covered with melted pepper jack cheese. He looked at them momentarily trying to decide on the best course of attack. Finally, he held the tortillas in place with a fork and cut the serving into bite-sized pieces with his knife. First a pause to replace the utensils with his spoon and then the carnage began. Scoop, chew, and swallow until his plate was clean.
“Try your coke,” Lori said pointing to the drink that fizzed before him.
Traveller picked the glass up and drank. The liquid popped with a pleasant sensation as it went down his throat. He took several gulps before the carbonation built up into a burp of monumental proportions. “RAWT . . . RRRAWT,” with watering eyes he set the glass down and smiled.
Jesse laughed. Lori turned red with embarrassment. “That’s very bad manners,” she said.
Traveller couldn’t understand her, but he sensed displeasure. “Belwa bitty bot?” he said.
Jesse had left off laughing to finish his meal. He sipped his coke through a straw so as not to be belching. He knew Lori was getting miffed, and she had a million ways to get even with him so he thought it best to be on his best behavior. He even decided to be helpful, “Here Traveller sip through your straw,” he said showing the alien the proper technique.
While Jesse and Traveller sipped their cokes, Lori ate what she wanted of her meal. When she finished, there was still one enchilada with some rice and beans. She shoved her plate into the middle of the table then said, “There you go.”
Jesse nodded to Traveller. They piled into her leftovers. Jesse attacked the enchilada, Traveller the beans and rice. A few scoops, chews, and swallows later, her plate joined the two stacked on the edge of the table.
There was a momentary silence as everyone sat waiting for the food to settle. Lori rummaged in her checkbook for the twenty and five dollar bill she had stashed inside of it. She picked the slip up from the table to examine it. “Are you guys ready?” the words were more of a prod than a question.
Jesse took Traveller outside while Lori paid for the meal. Eighteen dollars and ninety-five cents for the food and a three-dollar tip left her with three dollars for the rest of the week. She joined them outside.
Traveller waited by the driver’s side door. He hugged her and said, “Thank you.”
The alien’s touch brought visions of the forest, the sensation of being near the ocean, and the warmth of acceptance. She found herself hugging him back.
“Yeah, thanks Sis,” Jesse chimed in pleased.
On the short trip into Pocatello, the beans combusted into ballistic emanations that started in Traveller’s gut and ended in flatulence. Traveller felt a painful swelling in his digestive system before he let one loose quietly.
Lori and Jesse rolled their windows down. “Silent and deadly. That stinks and I didn’t do it,” Jesse laughed.
Traveller turned the translator on. “Sorry,” he apologized before lifting his leg and letting another one loose. A loud “Bbblutttttttttt” reverberated throughout the van. “I’m not used to eating, what did you call them?”
“Beans you rotten alien, beans,” said Jesse. “There’s only one way to deal with an alien attack,” he said before leaning on his right leg to give clear passage to the wind inside of him. “Bbbluttttt, Bbbbluttt, take that you rotten bean boy.”
Between himself and Jesse, Traveller had never smelled anything so awful. “Are we going to live? Surely we are rotting on the inside.”
“You two might make it, but one more blast like that and I’m done,” Lori said with a grimace as she held her head out the window. “Tell me when you're done.”
“We’re done,” said Jesse holding one in until she put her head back inside and then “Bbblutttt, Bbbbluttt.”
“You stinkin’ pig!” Lori yelled.
Traveller sensed her anger so he held the one building inside of him in until it built into a giant explosion that couldn’t be contained. “BBBLUTTT, BBBLUTTT.”
“Stick your butts out the window until we get home or you can both walk,” Lori said after she figured the smell had passed and it was safe to stick her head in the van to deliver the order. She even slowed down to make sure they got the message.
They drove through town with two butts and one head hanging out of the open windows of the van. With Jesse laughing and passing gas while Traveller passed gas and worried about upsetting Lori.

The dusk had darkened into night when they pulled up in front of Jesse’s dorm. “Just leave the glider in the van, I’ll take it back tomorrow,” said Jesse as he took his coat from Traveller. “I’ll come and get you when I’m done with classes, Traveller.”
"Can I roll my window up now," the Benwarian asked after she pulled away from the curb.
"Are you done passing gas?" she asked.
"Yes, I think so."
"Remind me never to take another alien for Mexican food," she said putting a hand on his arm and smiling.
"Sorry, Lori. I've never eaten human food before. It was acroluminous to say the least, but I had no idea it would produce rotten gas inside of my body."
"Yeah I know. Feeding you creamed broccoli is out of the question for a while."
They arrived at Lori's apartment a few minutes later. She pulled into the alley and then turned into the parking space designated for her in the back of the house. She had an upstairs apartment with a carpeted living room and bedroom with a bathroom and small kitchen. Located within walking distance of the campus, she rarely drove her van to school preferring the fresh air and exercise.
It was nine o'clock when they climbed the stairs to the apartment. "I'll fix a place for you on the couch before I get ready for bed," said Lori. "Do you want to watch T.V. while you're waiting?"
"What is T.V.?" he asked.
"It is people play acting to entertain other people."
"Why would someone watch someone else pretending to live a life that they can live themselves?" asked Traveller.
"For the same reason you spent most of your time in virtual reality when you were on your spaceship, most of us live lives that are extremely boring," Lori replied. She turned the television on. "I get four stations, tell me what one you want to watch," she said turning the dial on top of the set.
After the third channel, Traveller stopped her when he heard a man singing,
"Where, oh where, are you tonight?"
"Why did you leave me here all alone?"
It saddened him that the man had found true love only to have his mate leave him when she found someone else. He was so engrossed by his thoughts that he didn't notice Lori leave the room. He watched the show as the humans hid behind yellow plants with stalks. One of them would pop up to say something before hiding again then another would pop up. Laughter followed but he didn't see anyone laughing. It puzzled him, especially since nothing they said was funny.
Later on in the show, two men leaned of some kind of tool to sing the saddest song he had ever heard.
"Gloom despair and agony on me!"
"Deep dark depression, excessive misery."
The humans barely finished the song before they broke into tears. Traveller found himself crying in sympathy. Tears were still rolling down his face when Lori came back. Her face was covered in aquamarine cold cream. Traveller not knowing what it was, jumped up in alarm. "Are you sick? You look sick. What happened?"
"I'm fine. What's wrong with you?" she asked.
"The humans on this show. They laugh one minute and cry the next. That song they just sung made me cry it was so sad," he said. "What on your face?"
"It's called cold cream. It keeps my skin looking young and beautiful."
"Oh Lori, you're beautiful without cream, you don't need any help."
"Why Traveller, are all Benwarians so full of flattery?"
"What is flattery?"
"It's praising someone to make them feel good about themselves."
"Does it work?"
"Of course, all humans want to hear something positive about themselves."
"In that case, you are even more beautiful with the cream on."
"Yeah right. It doesn't work unless people think you're being sincere. I'm going to bed now. The T.V. stations go off at midnight, push the button marked on/off when the screen goes fuzzy."
"Lori, you are acroluminous. I'm not using flattery either. Thank you for everything. Good night," the alien said.
Lori smiled. She had never thought of herself as pretty, but Traveller's sincerity was genuine. She smiled as she left the room.
Traveller watched the television, translating and trying to make sense of what was happening until twelve o'clock. He turned the television off before climbing under the blankets Lori had provided.

Chapter 15- Flag Football
Lori let Traveller sleep in. Her first class started at nine o'clock. She woke him up at eight thirty. "I'm leaving now. There's cereal in a bowl on the table. Open the white box next to it. There's some milk to put on it. It's in the red and white carton. Jesse will come and get you at some time after eleven," she said pointing to the clock to show him. "I'll turn the T.V. on. You can watch it until he gets here."
Suddenly Traveller started singing in an exact imitation of Grandpa Jones, "Where, oh where, are you tonight? Why did you leave me here all alone?"
Lori smiled. "I'll see you later. I hope you'll be okay you old lonesome hound dog."
"Good bye. I'll fight off the gloom and despair until I see you again."

Jesse knocked on the door at eleven-thirty. When no one answered, he barged in to find Traveller in front of a blaring T.V. "Hey Traveller. How ya doin'?"
"I am fine."
"Did you eat?"
"No."
Jesse turned the T.V. off. "Here I brought you some clothes. Put'em on so you don't look like Spock. I stole them from my roommate. He's about your size."
Traveller put on the Levi's and sweatshirt Jesse gave him. The tennis shoes were a little too small but he slipped them on anyway to please Jesse. There was also a Levi jacket that fit except the sleeves were a little too short. "Thank you," Traveller said as he shrugged into it.
"Come in the kitchen. I'll fix breakfast," Jesse ordered.
Traveller followed him. Jesse pulled a chair out. "Sit down," he said.
When Traveller was seated, Jesse filled another bowl with frosted cornflakes before pouring milk over them. He handed Traveller a spoon then poured milk into the bowl Lori had put on the table. Jesse took several bites before he noticed that the alien wasn't eating. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I don't want to upset Lori again."
"She won't be upset. She wants you to eat."
"No. I will not make her house smell bad."
It suddenly dawned on Jesse what the problem was. "Cereal won't give you gas. It was the beans that got to you. Come on try some."
Reluctantly Traveller took a bite. They tasted sweet and crunchy with some kind of plant kernel flavor that was completely different from the beans and rice. He swallowed before taking another bite before speaking into the translator, "These are good!"
Jesse finished his second bowl before pushing his chair back. "I have a tag football game. My roommate sprained his ankle and we need one more to make a team. Do you want to take his place?"
"I don't know. What is flag futbal?"
"Football. It's easy. Just watch us for a minute then I'll explain everything. Try not to say anything so no one knows you're an alien. I'll tell them you’re from Russia."
"Okay Jesse."

The game took place on a baseball field located west of Holt gym. The other team had eight players with white strips of cloth dangling from the back of their pants. Jesse introduced Traveller to his teammates before stuffing a piece of cloth in the alien's pants. "We'll play without you until you can see what's going on," he said. “Just stand here and don’t say anything.”
Jesse grabbed an oblong object that resembled the shape of Traveller's space pod. He kicked it so that the ball went end over end for several mezures. A person on the other side caught the ball and ran. His friends tried to keep Jesse's friends from taking the flag of the human with the ball by pushing them away. Jesse finally grabbed the guy with the ball long enough to pull the flag out. After that, everyone stopped running. Traveller watched as the other team gathered together and hugged each other. He could hear someone whisper, “Everyone block but Tim. You go deep. On two.” They clapped their hands, said, “Break,” then all of them lined up along the ball but the one who told everyone to block. One of them straddled the ball and held it between his legs looking forward with both hands on it.
The leader of the other team held his hands up, “Hut one, hut two,” he said. At two, the guy holding the ball threw it between his legs into the hands of the signal caller. The guy called Tim ran as fast as he could down the field while everyone but Jesse tried to get the flag from guy with the ball. The quarterback ran sideways, stopped then threw it in a perfect spiral downfield. Jesse hadn’t reacted in time to keep up with Tim. He was a couple of mezures behind when the ball flew over his head into Tim’s arms. Tim passed a line on the far west side of the field before yelling, “Touchdown!”
The two groups separated again and lined up. This time Tim’s team kicked the ball. Jesse caught it. He ran hard to the right while the other team converged on him. Tim ran across the field while his mates slowed Jesse down. One man held Jesse while Tim pulled his flag out. Traveller could see that having one less player gave the other team the advantage.
Jesse’s team arranged themselves in the hug group. He gave instructions, the huddle broke, and everyone lined up. When the ball was “hiked”, that was the term they used, Jesse dodged around in the backfield. Just before he was cornered, he threw the ball. One of the pursuers tipped it making it wobble end over end. Tim caught it. Jesse’s team watched as he ran the other way across the same line as before. Tim crossed it then held two hands straight up in the air and yelled, “Touchdown!” again. “Twelve zip.”
“Timeout,” Jesse said making a T with his hands. “We need someone else. You guys are killing us. Is it okay if my friend from Russia plays? His name is Travorsky.”
“Sure,” said Bill, the other team’s quarter back. “It’s not going to make you run any faster though.”
“That’s alright, we just need another blocker,” Jesse said.
Jesse beckoned everyone over for a quick conference. First he introduced Traveller, “This is my friend, Travorsky. I call him Travis.”
Each member of Jesse’s team held their hand palm up. “You slap it Travis,” he demonstrated. Traveller followed suit. That’s six new friends the alien thought after the last slap.
“Travis, when they kick the ball, you push the other team away from whoever catches it.”
“Boni bon bon.”
Everyone got a funny look on their face, but no one said anything about “Travis’s” comment. They broke huddle to line up across the field.
“You ladies ready?” Bill called before he kicked the ball. It sailed end over end toward Traveller. He watched it. Mesmerized by the motion, he put his arms up at the last second to catch it. It bounced off his chest and into the arms of the charging Tim. When Travellet tried to stop him, a stiff arm knocked the alien down. Again Tim ran across the finish line to yell touchdown.
Jesse ran over to his friend, “Are you okay?”
Traveller held his head down in shame. “Bletah,” he said the Benwarian word for sorry.
Down eighteen to nothing, Jesse’s team lined up again. This time he caught the ball. Traveller who had been over twenty yards away suddenly appeared before him. Jesse stayed behind the alien as Traveller used both arms to push the other team away. The would be tacklers flew backward as they were shoved hard to the turf. Only when Tim cross-bodied Traveller and Jesse fell over the two bodies was anyone able to get his flag.
In the hug circle everyone congradulated Traveller. “Good blocking.” “Man you really knocked Bill on his butt.” “Way to go, you animal.” He didn’t understand what they were saying, but it was good.
In the huddle Jesse told everyone to block so he could run the ball. “Travis, you stay in front of me.”
“They’re going to run it!” Tim yelled when they broke huddle.
Traveller had picked up the meaning of throw and ball as he watched the game. When everyone was lined up, he patted himself and whispered just loud enough for Jesse to hear, “Throw ball.” He pointed to a spot on the field.
“Hut one, hut two,” Jesse called. He caught the ball and ran right. Traveller magically appeared behind the other team. He was so wide open that Jesse lofted the football in a lazy spiral. Traveller snatched it with both hands squeezing it hard. Only Tim who was playing safety had a chance of tackling the alien. He came up just as Traveller turned to run. The alien shifted the ball to his left arm to meet his dive with a hand to the face that stopped all forward momentum. Tim collapsed hitting the ground hard. He lay groaning on the ground as Traveller ran for a touchdown. The alien crossed the goal line, spiked the ball, and yelled, “Touchdown!”
Jesse and the whole team ran to Traveller. They hugged each other, jumped up and down. It was the first time a team had scored against Bill’s team. When the celebration broke, Traveller saw Tim writhing in the grass with the other team gathered around him.
Traveller pushed his way through the other players then knelt down beside the fallen player. Instinctively, he knew Tim’s neck was jammed. He sat behind Tim’s head to gently roll the injured man onto his back then he held Tim’s head in both hands to pull and knead the neck muscles. Fourteen football players watched in awe as the alien healed the injured man.
Tim sat up with his pain gone. “How did you do that?” he asked in awe. “I could have sworn you broke my neck.”
“Boni, bon, bon,” Traveller replied.
“We’ve got fifteen minutes left. Let’s get after it,” said Bill helping his friend up.
The two teams faced off again. The ball was kicked and caught by Tim. He ran cautiously this time as he watched “Travis” run through his blockers knocking them aside. He was so intent on not letting the tall strong Russian destroy him that he failed to see Jesse burst forward to grab his flag.
On the next play two of the other team’s biggest players lined up in front of Traveller. When the ball was hiked, one tried to cut his legs while the other went high. An elbow caught Traveller in the eye. He went down with the two players on top of him. The play ended with Jesse taking the flag of the receiver twenty yards down field. It also ended with an angry Benwarian.
The opposing team lined up again. Again the two players double teamed the Russian. This time when the ball was hiked, one of them was knocked flat on his butt while the other ended up five yards into the backfield where he stumbled and fell. Bill was rolling away from the Russian with the football in his passing hand. He stopped, planted his back foot, and brought his arm back to throw. Traveller swept the ball from his hand. He ran with long Benwarian strides down the field for a touchdown. No one bothered to pursue him except Jesse who ran behind him with two arms up yelling, “Touchdown!”
Everyone lined up for the ensuing kick-off. When Jesse went back to kick the ball, Traveller pointed to himself and made a kicking motion, “Me?” he said.
“You want to kick the ball?”
“Yes please.”
Traveller stood a few mezures to the left of the ball. He kicked it with the side of his foot in a soccer style kick. It sailed high into the air, well over the head of Tim who was back to receive. It bounced off the orange-bricked gym wall for a touchback.
“Hey Jesse, where’d you get him, on loan from the Cowboys?” Bill asked.
“Funny. He’s never played football in his life,” Jesse bragged.
In an attempt to run the clock out, Bill ran the ball on the next play with all his players bunched around him and the element of surprise, he gained ten yards. On the next play everyone blocked the Russian while Tim ran in the opposite direction for a two yard loss. Two more plays failed to gain any yardage with two incomplete passes. With five minutes left, Bill dropped back to punt. The ball sailed high in the air. Jesse caught it to be immediately downed by Tim. Traveller had been taken out of the play by a trip and a hold.
Jesse huddled the team up. “Everyone block. Travis you go deep,” he said beckoning down the field. “On three.”
Traveller ran at the snap of the ball. Tim was thirty yards downfield playing safety while Bill tried to run with the Russian. Everyone else on the team was in hot pursuit of Jesse as he dropped back to pass.
When Traveller broke open between Bill and Tim, Jesse threw the ball over the outstretched hands of the defense. It sailed on him headed straight for Tim who waited with both arms ready. Just as the football was descending, Traveller put on a burst of speed, turned, jumped, and then knocked the ball away.
“One more play,” said Bill panting as he walked back to the line of scrimmage.
“Huddle,” called Jesse’s center. All the players stood between Jesse and the other team.
“Okay guys. I’m going to fake a hand-off to Travis. They’ll expect him to get the ball,” Jess said. He put the ball in Traveller’s arms and took it out again. “No, I’ll keep it,” he said and Traveller nodded.
“On three, break,” said Jesse. Traveller stood on the line of scrimmage. Jesse walked over then moved Traveller three yards directly behind him. He moved his arm up and down pointing to the gap just left of the center. “Stay low,” he said. He crouched down, hoping that Traveller could figure out that if he stayed bent over, the other team couldn’t whether he had the ball or not.
When the center hiked the ball, everyone converged on Traveller except for Tim. He waited. Jesse rolled out with the ball behind his back. One of the defensive players yelled, “It’s a quarterback keeper!” when he saw that Traveller didn’t have the ball.
Tim moved to the right coming up hard to slow Jesse down so someone could get his flag. With Tim coming hard in front of him, and the other players converging; he spun back around then back peddled sidestepping a tackler. Now he was hemmed in. It looked hopeless so he threw the ball as high and as far as he could.
Traveller had run down the field a few mezures before turning to see if the play had worked. When he saw what was happening to Jesse, he sensed what his friend would do. He ran to Jesse’s side of the field angling backward. The ball flew through the air in a high tight spiral. Traveller picked the spot where it would come down, concentrated then impelled. He was barely able to throw his hands up in time to tip the ball into the air. As it was coming down, Traveller speared it with one hand, pivoted and ran for a touchdown.
Jesse ran down the field yelling, "Way to go Travis! Eighteen to eighteen, we tied the best team on campus."
Bill yelled as he was leaving the field, "Next time we'll play you without the Russian and see who wins. I've gotta go to class. Game's over." The rest of his team dispersed into the crowd except for Tim.
The other team's best player came over to shake Traveller's hand. "Good job. You're a helluva an athlete. Thanks for fixin' my neck."
Traveller shook his hand then drew him forward and patted him on the back. "Boni bon bon game," he said.
Even though Tim's team hadn’t won the game, he felt better about it than he had about any of the games they had won. He liked Travis and could sense that Russian liked him. Although he really didn't think Travis was a Russian, he did think of him as a friend. He didn't question how he could like someone so much in such a short time.
"Hey Jesse, let's get together some time. You and Travis and I."
"Sure," said Jesse. It pleased him that an upper classman wanted to be his friend.
"I'll see you around," said Tim before trotting off.
Jesse turned to Traveller. "Let's hit the sauna," he said.
They walked into the gym where Jesse showed his activity card to the student attendant. "This is my guest," he said nodding at Traveller. "It's okay if he comes with me, isn't it Jake?"
"Sure, Jesse."
The two boys undressed putting their clothes in Jesse's locker. When they got to the steam room, Jesse turned the setting to high. Pipes clinked then groaned as the hot vapor filled the pipes. It took a few minutes before the steam started hssing out of the jets.
Soon the room filled with a hot fog. This was a new experience for Traveller. He enjoyed the warm soothing vapor that enveloped his whole body.
"I love a good steam bath," said Jesse.
"Boni, bon bon," agreed Traveller.
It took twenty minutes before Jesse decided he had had enough. Traveller was just starting to sweat. "I'll wait for you by the lockers," he said motioning to where they had left their clothes. It was another twenty minutes before Traveller tired of the hot steam.
When he came out, Jesse showed him to the showers. He demonstrated how to adjust the temperature of the water then gave the alien a bar of soap.
Traveller washed in the soothing hot water. When he finished, Jesse brought him a clean towel. He dried off and dressed trying to decide which he liked most, the warmth of the steam, the shower, or the warmth of having new friends. I'll take the friends, he decided.
Now that they were clean, Jesse rummaged through his pockets pulling out his change and counting it. “A dollar thirty-seven,” he said before pulling out his wallet to find two one dollar bills. “Come on, I’ll buy lunch.”
They walked west to 5th street then turned north. Three blocks later, they came to a Taco Bell. The sign outside said “Cheese and Bean Burritos Two for a Dollar.”
Traveller recognized the word bean. “No,” he said. “Malbon, malbon.”
“Come on, just have one. It won’t make you gassy,” he shook his head no and made a flatulent sound. Jesse opened the door and Traveller followed him inside.
He ordered four burritos with two cokes. The bill came to $3.09. Traveller watched Jesse search for the money sensing somehow that his friend was making a sacrifice for him even though he didn’t understand the concept of currency.
They sat at a table to wait for the food. A few minutes later Tim entered. “Can I join you guys?” he asked after ordering his food.
Traveller brightened. “Boni bon bon,” he said.
“Hey Tim. Sure,” said Jesse.
“You guys hear about the three on three basketball tournament this Saturday? I signed up but don’t have a team yet. Has Travis ever played basketball?”
“No, but he’s a quick learner,” said Jesse. “I’ll bet he can dunk it.”
Tim looked puzzled. “How can anyone his age not have played basketball?”
“He comes from a very small village in eastern Russia.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the name of it?”
Jesse looked at Traveller, “Tell Tim where you’re from.”
“Benwar,” he said.
“Hmm, that doesn’t sound very Russian. You’re not pulling my leg are you?”
“Actually, it’s called Benwarsky, but he doesn’t want anyone to think he’s a communist.”
“Yeah right,” Tim said skeptically. “So how ‘bout it? You guys want to play? The tournament starts Friday night and ends on Saturday.”
“Sure. Let’s meet tomorrow at Holt gym at about one p.m. We’ll teach him how to play,” Jesse said.
“Number seventy-six,” sounded over the intercom.
Jesse retrieved the tray with the burritos. He sat two of them before Traveller along with a coke and some taco sauce.
The words “number seventy-seven” beckoned Tim to the counter for his food.
Traveller unwrapped the top of his burrito and bit into it. “Here,” said Jesse opening a packet of taco sauce and then showing Traveller how to put it on his burritto.
“Boni bon bon,” said Traveller after he tasted it with an expression of pleasure filling his face. When he finished the first one, he looked at Tim who was now sitting across from him. Tim unwrapped one of his tacos. I looked similar to a tortilla chip but was larger and folded over to hold some kind of filling.
“You want to try one?” Tim asked.
“Yes please,” Traveller said. Tim handed him one. Traveller bit into it enjoying the crunchy texture. It reminded him of a syntho-wafer only it was tastier by a hundred fold. The filling contained something he had never tasted before. It puzzled him. I’ll wait until we get back to Lori’s before I ask Jesse what is inside he thought.
“Your eye’s starting to swell,” Tim said. “Did you get hit?”
Traveller nodded his head up and down as Jesse looked and then said, “Uh oh, Lori’s going to be mad at me.”
Traveller didn’t understand what Jesse meant. He picked up his other burrito. “Phutt, phuttt, no,” he said. “Lori mad.” He handed the burrito to Tim.
“Thanks,” Tim said.
Jesse laughed, “We stopped at the Pilot House on our way home from Pomerelle. The beans made us silent but deadly.”
“Silent but deadly. Lori mad,” mimicked Traveller.
“At least they’re filling,” said Tim plopping the last bite into his mouth.
With the cokes and food gone, the three boys cleaned the table off then left the premises. They parted ways outside. Tim walked back to the campus while Jesse and his alien friend resumed their journey north to Lori’s.
At Lori’s Jesse took the key under the door mat so they could get in. Once inside he rummaged in the hall closet until a basketball was found. There was a driveway basketball court just down the alley that he often used to practice on. “Come on Travis. I’ll teach you a new game.”
Chapter 16 - Basketball
Jesse bounced the ball all the way down the alley to the court. Once there, he shot the ball. It arced high into the air before swishing the steel net with Traveller watching. Jesse picked the ball up as it bounced toward him then shot again. Swish!
The ball bounced to the alien this time. “Shoot it starman,” Jesse said.
Traveller picked it up with both hands then threw it at the backboard. It hit the metal above the rim with a resounding bing before ricocheting well over Jesse’s head.
“Not so hard Travis,” he said as he retrieved the ball.
“Look, you hold the ball like so,” he said showing how to put one hand underneath the ball and the other on the side. “Then you shoot and follow through. Flick your wrist.” Jesse shot with his wirst curling into a cup after the basketball left. It swished the net again.
“I was a point guard in high school,” he said, proud of his shot. “We took the state championship.”
Traveller got the ball off the bounce. He tried dribbling it but it hit his foot and rolled into the bushes. Anger flared up inside of him. Take a deep breath. Stay calm he told himself hearing Porter’s voice. He picked the ball up; holding it like Jesse had showed him. When he shot, the ball sailed well over the rim. “Lization!” he roared.
Jesse caught the ball. “Try again,” he said throwing it back.
Traveller caught the ball with both hands. He impelled high into the air with it brushing against the backboard as he jammed the ball through the hoop.
“Jeeze,” said Jesse. “How did you do that?” He noticed that Traveller was decidedly blue now with frustration. The never alien never said anything but stood there with his hands open waiting for Jesse to throw him the ball. Catching it with both hands, he paused, placed his hands, and then shot. This time it rimmed out.
“Boni bon bon, star man,” Jesse encouraged. “Come out here.”
Traveller stood at foul shot distance from the basket. This time his shot arced perfectly before hitting the side of the rim to bounce high up on the backboard. The alien followed his shot catching the basketball as it bounced in the air. It was slam dunked so hard the rim bent.
“Travis! No more dunking. Lift me up there so I can bend it back.”
With the rim back in place, Jesse said, “Stand out in the court and practice shooting. I’ll throw you the ball.”
Two hours later, Lori pulled up in her van. She had seen them playing as she entered the alley. Rolling her window down she asked, “Hey guys. Are you about ready to quit? It’ll be dark soon.”
“Hi Lori. I play basketball,” said Traveller.
“Yeah, I can’t get him to quit now that he’s starting to get the hang of it,” said Jesse.
“I’m cooking spaghetti. It’ll be done in about an hour,” she said.
“We’ll play one game of one on one before we get there,” said Jesse.
“Okay, but you’d better not be late,” she said revving the engine before putting the van in gear.
After she left, Jesse explained the game to Traveller as best he could. He gave the alien the ball first.
To Traveller’s surprise, when he tried to shoot the ball, Jesse blocked it. His friend then dribbled to the basket for a lay up. “One nothing,” Jesse said.
Jesse threw him the ball again. Again Traveller tried to shoot it. Again Jesse blocked it. “Lization!” Traveller said watching Jesse score.
“Two zip,” said Jesse throwing him the ball again.
This time he held the ball high over his head so the Earthling couldn‘t get it. Jesse kept a hand in his face. Traveller grasped the ball firmly in one hand then shoved Jesse down with the other before using both hands to shoot the ball. It glanced off the rim with Jesse yelling, “You can’t do that!” He got up quickly to rebound and shoot. “Three zip.”
Traveller caught the ball Jesse threw to him. Without dribbling, he impelled from way out on the court to dunk the ball.
“You can’t do that,” Jesse said demonstrating how to dribble to the end of the cement to clear the ball before it could be shot. He tried re-explaining the game. When Traveller nodded that he understood, they started again.
Traveller couldn’t dribble well enough to drive to the basket. Jesse stole the ball everytime he tried. The only time he was able to score was when he faked one way then impelled for a dunk. When he shot from a distance, Jesse either blocked it or he missed. The dark had descended when Jesse called the final score, “Twenty-one to ten. Let’s go eat spaghetti.”

Jesse and Traveller sat down at Lori’s small four chair table with the tranlslator placed on a T.V. tray bewteen them. The pleasant aroma of meatballs and spaghetti sauce filled the air making their mouths water. The smell of buttered garlic bread mingled with the sauce.
“Man, I’ve never seen anyone jump like you Travis. You should have seen him Lori. He jumped sp high his elbows caught on the rim and bent it.”
Lori had her back to them stirring the sauce. “I hope you bent it back. Mr. Halverson will kick you guys off his court.”
“No he won’t. He likes me. I raked his yard for him,” said Jesse.
“You are skilled at the game of basketball Jesse. I didn’t have a chance against you,” said Traveller.
“It’s only a matter of practice. You should have seen him play flag football. We tied Bill and Tim’s team. Travis scored two touchdowns,” Jesse bragged to his sister.
“Is that how he got the shiner?” Lori asked.
Jesse noticed it for the first time. “Jeeze, your eye’s almost swollen shut.”
“That’s okay. I enjoyed myself today. It was fun. I’ve never had friends my age before.”
Lori sat the French bread on the table along with the spaghetti and meat sauce. She dished Traveller up fighting Jesse off with a wooden spoon when he tried to go first.
Once she finished, he piled his plate high with spaghetti.
“Dig in,” Jesse said with his mouth full of spaghetti.
Traveller watched Jesse twirl the noodles with his spoon. He did the same but just before he was able to capture them with his mouth, they slid back onto the plate. He shrugged and then used his fork to cut the spaghetti up and eat it. Traveller tried a meatball. “That is acroluminous,” he said smacking his lips. “What is it?”
“It’s called hamburger,” Lori said sitting down to join them.
“What is hamburger?”
“It’s ground up dead cow,” said Jesse between bites. “You know those animals we saw up at Pomerelle.”
“You mean I’m eating another living being?” Traveller said taking another bite.
“That’s right. It’s good isn’t it?” said Jesse.
“Yes, but . . .”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve gotta have protein if you want to play basketball.”
Traveller didn’t say anything. Somehow he felt what he was doing was wrong, but Lori had cooked the meal; he didn’t want to disappoint her. The “hamburger” was good. It satisfied his hunger, his body needed the protein. He ate three meatballs before turning to the bread. With real butter and garlic salt, it supplied another unique taste to his palate.
“Boni, bon bon,” he said between bites.
Lori smiled as she ate a small portion of the spaghetti and meat sauce. “I’m glad you like it,” she said.
After the three had finished eating, Traveller placed his hand over Lori’s. “Thank you,” he said. Her eyes misted with tears.
“Yeah, thanks sis,” Jesse said.

***
Lori woke up with the dawn of a new day just breaking. She heard her front door open even though Traveller was trying to be quiet. She got up, slipped a robe on over her pajamas then rushed to the window of the living room to see Traveller bouncing her basketball down the alleyway.
She had talked to the alien until well into the night after Jesse left. She told him of her hopes and dreams, sharing her frustrations with Jesse. He didn’t study. He was irresponsible. He spent his money and hers. Most of all, she was afraid he would flunk out and have to go home.
Traveller had listened intently not saying anything. When she was through pouring her heart out, he placed a hand over hers and said, “Everything will be fine. Jesse has friends and a sister who cares for him.”
Every time Traveller touched her the anxieties melted away. It was as if she found herself suddenly walking on a beach near the ocean. The electric tingling of his hand made her forget what was troubling her. She had calmed.
Lori poured some milk over two biscuits of shredded wheat and ate. After clearing the table, she whistled to herself as she dressed for school. When she left, she drove to the basketball court. Traveller was practicing dribbling and shooting. She pulled up and rolled her window down.
He reached in placing a hand on her shoulder. “Hi Lori. Did you get your rest?”
“Hi Traveller. Thanks for being a good listener last night. I left the door open. Don’t forget to eat breakfast,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said turning back to play basketball.

Concentrate, shoot, get the ball, dribble, concentrate, shoot. Concentrate, shoot, get the ball, dribble. Traveller practiced for over four hours until Jesse showed up on his bicycle. “Have you eaten?” Jesse asked.
“I’m not hungry,” Traveller replied.
“Sure you are,” said Jesse. “Come on. We’ll get a bowl of cereal.”
When they got back to Lori’s, Jesse poured two bowls of Cherrios. He put sugar on both. With food in front of him, Traveller realized how hungry he was. He dug in with his spoon enjoying yet another new taste.
“One of these days I’m going to cook you some eggs and bacon,” Jesse said.
“Boni bon bon.”
They finished breakfast with Traveller humming. “One game of twenty one, then we’ll go meet Tim at the gym,” said Jesse. “Last one there’s a rotten egg.” Jesse ran though the door and down the steps. Traveller jumped over the stair railing intercepting Jesse when he hit the alley. He ran leaving Jesse behind.
Traveller caught the ball, the game started. He shot and missed. Jesse rebounded it well off the backboard. Traveller waited for him to square up and shoot. Instead, he swung the ball over his head in a hook shot. Swish! “One zip,” Jesse said.
Traveller played much better this time. He scored on a couple of jump shots in addition to several dunks, but Jesse was still able to steal the ball and use his “hook” shot to win twelve to twenty-one.

Four players from the ISU basketball team were playing two on two on one end of the gym when they got there. Tim and a few other guys were shooting baskets at the other end. When Jesse got to half court, he shot the ball he was carrying. Travellers followed the ball, running as fast as he could. It bounced high off the rim. Traveller grabbed it well above the metal ring jamming it through the net with both hands. Almost everyone on that side of the court stopped playing. “Wow!” someone said. “I’ve never seen anyone jump that high.”
“Do it again,” someone else requested.
Tim yelled, “To the right of the rim!” and pointed. He lobbed his basketball. Again, Traveller caught it then jammed it through the hoop.
Everyone in the gym was watching this time. “Hey!” one of players from the ISU basketball team yelled. “Want to play half court four on four?”
Jesse looked at Tim who looked at Bill, the guy from the football team. They nodded yes to each other then looked at Traveller. “Wanna play?”
“Yes. Boni bon bon.” Those humans are different colored he thought when he saw that they were black.
ISU team members cleared the ball first. Traveller stood near the rim. This will be easy. Everytime they shoot the ball, I’ll prevent it from going in. He waited until a guard from ISU tried a short range jump shot. Just before the ball entered the rim, Traveller jumped up and knocked it out.
“Goal tending. Two points,” the guy who shot the ball said.
Traveller looked at Jesse who said, “You can’t block it on the way down.”
“Who say white people can’t jump?” one of forwards from ISU said with admiration.
Jesse cleared the ball. Traveller stood near the basket with a forward fronting him. He impelled to the middle of the key. Jesse threw him the ball but when he pivoted to shoot it, it was knocked out of his hands.
The other team quickly cleared the basketball. Traveller stood with disappointment while his teammates guarded three players with the forth coming open near the foul line. The ISU player shot the ball, swish. It was now four to nothing.
“You’ve gotta guard your man,” said Tim pointing at the forward who scored.
Jesse dribbled the ball up with the guard from the other team smothering him. Tim set a pick and then rolled to the basket. Jesse passed the ball to him. He laid it in for two points.
“Boni bon bon,” said Traveller marvelling at the cooperation between Jesse and Tim.
An ISU guard brought the ball up. The forward that Traveller was guarding backed him down as he dribbled with his back to the basket. Suddenly, he pivoted on one foot for a hook shot just like Jesse had. Traveller impelled anticipating the ball’s trajectory and then snatched it out of the air. He threw it to Jesse who shot it for a score.
The ISU players had a great advantage because they had played together so much. They were just able to stay ahead of Traveller and his friends. The score was fourteen to eighteen. Sweat drenched the ISU team as well as Traveller’s. The alien had been boxed out all game. He hadn’t been able to score.
Jesse brought the ball up. It went to Tim then back to Bill who drove to the basket. Traveller’s opponent left him to double team Bill who shoveled the ball back to him. He caught the ball and slammed it into the hoop so hard that the rim bent. “Sixteen, eighteen,” said Jesse.
After clearing it, the ISU ball handler dribbled toward the basket with Jesse in front him. The forward Traveller was guarding screened Jesse off. Traveller back pedaled in front of the guy with the ball. Unexpectedly, the ball handler stopped and jump shot the ball before Traveller could react. When the ball came down through the hoop, the shooter caught it, threw it back to Traveller and said, “Twenty to sixteen, game over.”
The forward the alien had been guarding came over with his palms up in front of Traveller, “Man, white boy you keep practicin’ you gonna have game. You can jump like nobody’s bidness.”
Traveller slapped the guy’s palms with his own. “Good game,” he said.
“You all made us work for everything we got,” said one of the ISU guards.
Over fifty students had gathered to watch the game. They applauded Traveller’s team for their effort.
Traveller had decided to practice his English after he practiced basketball. “I go now,” he told Jesse.
“Where ya goin’?”
“To learn English.”
“Let me walk with you to Lori’s. We can practice speaking on the way,” said Jesse. They said their goodbyes and left.
On the way home, Taveller would point to objects and Jesse would tell him what they were. Jesse walked him right up to the door pointing down to say, “steps,” then opened the door to say, “door.”
“I’m not coming in,” Jesse said to Traveller’s back. “I’ve gotta do some studying myself.”
Traveller turned around. He hugged Jesse. “Thank you,” he said with tears of gratitude. “I bon basketball. Everybody malik wonki.”
Jesse felt something he had never experienced before, complete, unquestioning acceptance. Somehow Traveller’s embrace made him want to go back to the dorms to study. He resolved to improve his grades.

Wednesday and Thursday consisted of learning to speak English and practicing basketball. On Wednesday night Lori cooked macaroni and cheese for dinner. Traveller ate a whole pot of it. “More?” he said when it was gone. Lori cooked another batch. He ate it, too.
On Thursday night, Lori brought home four McDonald’s double cheeseburgers with French fries. Traveller ate three of the burgers with great enjoyment. He smothered the French fries in catsup. “Boni bon bon bon bon,” he said as he savored each fry individually while Lori ate her burger.
“Mas?” he asked when he finished.
Lori teared up. “I’m sorry,” she said sitting at the table.
Traveller got up to put an arm around her shoulders. His touch conveyed that it was all right. “Thank you very very much,” he said.

Later that night, Traveller overheard Lori talking to her father on the telephone. He switched his translator on and listened. “Hi Dad. I’m fine. How are you? . . . Good.”
She was silent as she listened to her father. Finally, she explained the reason for the call. “Hey Dad. I’m running a little short on money this month. No. Yes, he’s borrowed some, but he wanted to go to the Neil Diamond concert.”
She was silent for a long time. Even an alien could tell she was being lectured. A few minutes later, she said, “Two hundred dollars. I get paid next Friday. I can pay it back twenty-five dollars a check.”
Traveller was surprised at her plaintive tone when she said, “Please?”
There was a pause before Lori said, “Thank you Dad. I love you. Good-bye.”
Traveller came into the kitchen where the phone was attached to the wall. He sat his translator on the table. “Are you well?” he asked.
“Me? Sure, I’m okay.”
“What is money?”
"It's something you get to exchange for food, clothing, or other goods."
"You mean like those coins and pieces of paper that Jesse used to get the burritos with?"
"Yes. I get those coins and pieces of paper for the work I do then I trade the money for something else."
"So you have to work for the food you give to me? And now you have to ask your parents for some?"
"Yes. I also use the money to rent this apartment, buy gas, and pay for electricity."
"How can I help?" Traveller asked.
"You're my guest. You don't have to help. But we do need to discuss your plans."
"I don't really have any. I have been enjoying myself so much. I have friends now. I've never had friends my own age to play with. I love basketball. All I can think about is learning how to play the game. I am getting better at it."
"So I've heard. You've been good for Jesse. I thought he was going to drop out of college. Now he's even studying. I think he's realized how much fun school is."
"I will ask Jesse about money. Maybe he knows how to get some."
"Please, please don't. I don't want you two robbing a bank or something."
"What is a bank?"
"A place to keep money."
"What is rob?"
"Stealing, taking without permission. It means they'll catch you and put you in jail."
"What is jail?"
"It's like a bank. It's a place to store people who steal money or commit other crimes."
They talked well into the night. Traveller would ask a question, Lori would answer it. He was beginning to get a rudimentary understanding of the world around him.
When he saw Lori's eyes drooping, her lids laden with sleep, he said, "You had better go to bed. Thanks for giving me so much to think about."
Traveller lay on the couch thinking about Lori. She had a good heart and mind. She had sacrificed for him. He would do something to return the favor.
Chapter 17 - Three on Three

The next morning, Traveller fixed toast and poured a bowl of corn flakes for Lori. He had them sitting on the table with a cup of coffee when she came out dressed for work. "Are you ready to eat?" he asked.
"You fixed breakfast?"
"Yes. If you're ready to eat, I'll pour milk on your corn flakes."
"Sure," she said. She sat down, sipped her coffee, and ate.
"Thank you," Lori said getting up from the table and grabbing her keys. "I get off work at four o'clock. What time is your game?"
"Six-thirty," Traveller said. Jesse had taught him how to tell time. He had even given Traveller an old watch so they could coordinate practice and studying.

Traveller spent the morning watching T.V. and practicing his English. Jesse and Tim came over at noon. "I'm hungry. How 'bout you guys?" Jesse asked.
"I could eat," said Tim.
"Hungry," said Traveller rubbing his stomach. He hadn't eaten breakfast. He didn't want to cost Lori money. He got his translator and placed it on the table.
Jesse pulled a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter out of the cupboard, some grape jelly out of the fridge. He fixed three peanut butter and jelly sandwhiches.
Traveller lit up with surprise when he took his first bite. Yet another delightful treat! "Mas, mas," he said licking his fingers after the last bite. Jesse made another round of sandwhiches.
Tim finished his first one before he explained the basketball tournament. "There are sixty-four teams. The games are scheduled for thirty minutes or twenty points whichever comes first. I paid our entry fee. It was ten bucks. You guys can pay me back by winning. The first place team gets $330.00, second $120.00, and third $90.00. Surely we can at least place third or second."
Traveller had just bit into his second sandwhich when Tim finished. "Firth playth," he said with peanut butter jamming his gums. When his mouth cleared, he repeated himself, "First place. Lori needs money."
"First place it is then," said Jesse. "We'd better go practice. Work out a strategy."
"We'll play an inside, outside game," said Tim. He looked at Jesse. "I'll pick for you and roll to the basket. Traveller can play around the key and rebound or move to the open spot. We'll play one on one defense."
"Sounds like a plan," said Jesse.
Tim looked at Traveller's translator machine. "I've never seen anything like that before. What is it?"
"It's a Russian translator. It converts Russian to English and English to Russian," Jesse answered.
"But it looks so advanced, like something off of Star Trek," said Tim suspiciously.
"Russians aren't as backward as everyone thinks," said Jesse.
"That's another thing. Whatever he's saying isn't Russian."
"Well, let's go practice," said Jesse changing the subject. “Bring your translator so we can make sure you understand what to do, Travis.”
They practiced on the cement court down the alley. Traveller would try to guard Jesse while Tim practiced screening him off. If Tim was successful Jesse scored. Sometimes Traveller fought his way through the screen. It was then that Jesse threw the ball back to Tim for a jump shot. Sometimes though, he blocked either Tim’s or Jesse’s shot. He learned to watch their eyes at the same time he watched the ball. The more they played, the harder it got for the two of them to score.
Eventually, they switched. Tim guarded Jesse and him. If Tim guarded Jesse, Traveller got the ball underneath for a dunk. If he guarded Traveller, Jesse shot an outside shot. Only when Jesse missed was Tim able to stop them from scoring. Once, toward the end of their practice, Traveller screened Tim and Jesse drove to the basket for a lay up.
“Good job!” Jesse yelled patting him on the back. “That was bitchin’.”
They played until three o’clock in the afternoon. “We don’t want to tire ourselves out. Let’s go see a movie,” said Tim. “I’ll buy. You guys can pay me back when we win the tournament.”
There was a special movie at the Student Union theatre on Fridays. It cost a dollar for students with an acivity card, two dollars for guests. Tim paid the four dollars. Again, Traveller was moved by the human’s generosity. He said thanks so many times that Jesse finally had to tell it was okay, they were going to pay Tim back.
The movie started. Jesse had snuck the translator in so his alien friend could enjoy the show. The Man of La Mancha began with people in funny clothes fighting with each other. Traveller didn’t understand a lot of it, but he enjoyed the singing.
One song moved him to tears. It talked of fighting an unbeatable enemy, to fight for what was right, and to keep trying with your last ounce of courage. He would always remember two lines from the song:
“To be willing to march into hell
For a heavenly cause!”
The man singing it sang with the force of conviction. Traveller was inspired. I’ll get Lori some money if it kills me.

The movie ended at six o’clock. Traveller and Jesse piled into the back seat of Tim’s Volkswagon. They made it to the gym at six twenty, just in time to change into their gym clothes. The orange shorts that Traveller borrowed from Bill made his legs look blue but he didn’t care, he was going to win some money.
He had also used Bill’s activity card to enter the tournament. He had put one hand on the student checking IDs and then flashed the card. The guy looked bewildered for a moment before he said, “Okay, Tim. Your team’s registered.”
They were allowed a five minute shoot around before the game started. Traveller was under strict orders not to dunk it or show how high he could jump. They shot around for a while, the whistle blew, and the game began.
The other team got the ball first. Jesse stood at the foul line ready to pick their ball handler up, but the guy with the ball simply shot it from long range for a basket.
Jesse got the ball at half court. He drove to the basket off of Tim’s pick. When Traveller’s man switched to block him, he dumped the ball off to Traveller for an alien slam dunk.
“Way to go!” he heard Lori yell from the stands.
Jesse picked his man up farther out on the court. When the other player passed the ball, Traveller impelled into the passing lane, intercepted it, and then passed it to Tim underneath the basket for a lay up.
Traveller didn’t try to play offense for the rest of the game. He intercepted the ball or blocked shots totally frustrating the other team. There was no need for an inside outside game. Jesse and Tim scored off of Traveller’s defense. It took less than fifteen minutes to score the twenty points required to move on to the next round.
It would take the rest of the night to whittle sixty-four teams down to thirty-two. According to the brackets, their next game was scheduled for eight-thirty a.m. the next morning.
Lori met the boys as they were leaving the gym. “Great defense Traveller. All Jesse and Tim had to do was shoot a few baskets.”
“Thank you Lori,” he said with pride. “We’re going to win the tournament.”
“Don’t get too excited, Travis,” Tim cautioned. “We still have to win four more games tomorrow.”
“Will you come see, Lori?” Traveller asked. “I would like that.”
“Of course,” she answered. “Let’s go get something to eat. My treat. We’ll go to Burger King. Their Whoppers are on sale this week.”

The game the next morning ended quickly. Traveller had sugar cereal for breakfast. He was all over the court blocking and stealing the ball or rebounding it off the backboard to pass it to Jesse for an outside shot. They doubled the other team’s score twenty to ten.
Their next game was at one-thirty in the afternoon. A victory would get them into the quarter finals. The team they were to play had three players that could shoot and handle the ball with skill.
The referee blew his whistle to start the game. The other team had watched Traveller play so they kept someone blocking him out from the other two players. They were up eight to four before Jesse dished off to Traveller for a dunk. A loud boing sound ensued with the metal rim echoing.
The alien caught on to the other team’s strategy. Now, instead of trying to steal the ball, he fronted the man he was guarding so he could double team whoever had the ball. It enticed the ball handler to throw the basketball to Traveller’s man going to the basket. The alien picked the ball off three times in a row, each time passing it to Tim breaking to the hoop. He laid each steal in for a lead of ten to eight. All three members of the other team became frustrated. It was like the tall bluish guy in orange trunks knew their every move. If one of them did get open, they missed horribly. They scored two more baskets before the thirty minutes ended. Jesse hit three outside shots for a final score of twenty to twelve.
Their semi-final game started at three o’clock. This team spread themselves out, quickly passing the ball to each other until one of them came open. Then they would drive to the basket. If Traveller came at them, they would pull up for a jump shot. Their strategy worked, but none of them could stop the alien from getting the ball inside for a short jump shot or dunk. The game ended with a score of twelve to twenty.
“We made it!” said Jesse when he swished the net with the winning basket.
“Boni bon bon,” said Traveller.
“One more game for the money,” said Tim.
No time limit was placed on the final game. The first team to twenty would win. The other team had an athletic guy on academic probation from the ISU baskeball team. He was six feet four inches tall, muscular, and fast. His name was Willy. He wore a headband to contain his Afro. His team mates were athletic Afro-Americans as well. This team had blown its way through the tournament.
The game started. Willy guarded Traveller as Jesse brought the ball up. He motioned with his eyes then lobbed the ball high. Willy caught Traveller’s wrist preventing him from getting the ball. It bounced off the backboard for one of the other team’s players to rebound it and make a lay up.
“Time out,” called Jesse. They huddled together at mid-court. “This is the time to play as a team. We use the inside out game, work the ball around, and play like we’ve never player before. These guys are good.”
Jesse brought the ball up. When he came off Tim’s screen, Tim rolled to the basket. Jesse passed it to him. When Willy came off Traveller to pick him up, Tim got the ball to the alien.
Traveller visualized himself making the basket. He followed the vision to score two points.
Now they played a strict man to man defense. Willy posted up by the key. Traveller kept one hand on his back. When the ball handler threw Willy the ball, Traveller knocked it to Tim who threw it to Jesse standing at the foul line. He tried a jump shot that bounced high off the rim. Traveller had Willy blocked out. He rebounded the ball and feinted like he was going to go up for a shot. With Willy off his feet, Traveller leaned into him, knocked him away, and scored.
With admiration Willy said, “Nice shot, honkie.” They shook hands briefly. In that brief encounter Willy experienced acceptance. He wouldn’t think about it until much later.
On their next possession Willy’s team missed a jump shot. Jesse rebounded the ball and cleared it. He drove to the basket. When two players from the other team collapsed on him, he passed the ball back out to Tim for a jump shot. The netting swished as the ball went through the hoop without touching the metal ring.
Willy took the ball out and threw it to his team mate standing in the back court. His team mate drove to the basket brushing passed Tim. Traveller made him pick up his dribble, but he dumped the ball to an open Willy who scored.
The game seesawed back and forth until the score was sixteen to sixteen when Willy posted up to catch the ball underneath the key. He dribbled left with Traveller guarding him. With a head bob he got Traveller to pause then he tried a hook shot. The ball hit high off the backboard but with a lucky bounce it went in.
“Eighteen to sixteen,” Jesse said looking at Traveller. “We can’t let’em score again or we lose. Come on Travis.”
Jesse cleared the ball. His opponent was smothering him so he passed it to Tim. Tim drove left but had to pick up his dribble. He was trapped in the corner, so he heaved the ball toward the basket in a desperate attempt to get it to Traveller. It arched high with Willy moving to get it. There was blue blur as the alien impelled past him. The audience gasped as Traveller suddenly appeared high in the air to snag the ball. He pivoted around Willy before he could react. The ball was dunked tieing the score at eighteen.
The students in the gym quit cheering. An eerie silence descended upon the gym as they watched the slightly blue guy in the orange shorts and white T-shirt jump higher and move faster than anyone they had ever seen before.
When Willy’s teammate caught the ball on the outside, he dribbled sideways with Jesse guarding him. Traveller was standing in the key when he impelled. Everyone watched as he disappeared and then reappeared with the ball in his hands. The crowd began to notice the bluishness of his skin and the unnatural way he moved.
Traveller held the ball high over his head with the guy he had stolen the ball from trying to get it back. The alien threw it to Jesse, who drove to the basket. Tim’s opponent picked him up while Willy switched to guard Tim. Traveller ran toward the foul line.
Jesse threw the ball as Traveller left his feet at the top of the key. He caught it, sailed high twisting full circle in the air and then dunked the ball for the win. The crowd gasped again. “That ain’t right,” Willy said. “He be doin’ things nobody can do.”
“Go get the money and let’s get out of here,” Jesse said to Tim. “Travis, go back to the apartment and meet us there. Don’t talk to anyone. Quickly. I’ll bring your clothes.”
Traveller could sense something was wrong so he did as Jesse asked. He barged through the people standing at the doors to exit the building. When he got outside, he broke into long Benwarian strides heading toward Lori’s.
Willy’s team gathered around Jesse. “That guy was a ringer. He was like a Harlem Globe Trotter. I’ll bet his not even a student here.”
“What do you mean? They checked everyone’s ID,” Jesse said. “You guys played a good game, but we won. What’s wrong with that?”
“It cost us forty dollaws, man. It be better in my pockit den yours,” Willy said.
While the argument raged, Tim collected the three hundred thirty dollars in prize money. He ducked out before anyone could stop him then climbed in his VW and drove off.
Lori broke through the three men surrounding Jesse. “Come on let’s go home,” she said.
“Man, what wrong witch choo, hafta have yo’ sista git all in dis?” one of Willy’s teammates said crowding Jesse.
“Not really. I’m not afraid of you guys,” said Jesse.
“I’ll kick yo’ punk ass,” Willy said.
Lori stood between her brother and Willy. “Game’s over Willy.”
“Da game be ova, but we ain’t,” he said pushing his friend aside to get in Jesse’s face. Lori got between them.
Over a hundred students had gathered around the four men and Lori to oversee the argument. Jesse really didn’t want to fight someone a good fifty pounds heavier than he was, but he did want to stall for time. He gently moved Lori aside.
“I’m sorry Willy. We’ll give you a rematch sometime. We did win fair and square didn’t we?” Jesse held his hand out with a saintly expression on his face.
Willy remembered his probation. Getting in a fight would make it permanent. Besides, he liked Jesse. He had also calmed down. “Shoot man. I guess you be right but you owe me a six pack a beer ana rematch.”
“Sure Willy. Can we go now?” Jesse asked as they shook hands.
The crowd started to dissipate now that the prospect of a fight had lessened. “Sure,” said Willy.

Traveller was sitting on Lori’s steps when Tim pulled up in the alley. “What happened?” he asked Tim.
“Don’t know. I got the money and ran like Jesse told me to. That was some game you played. You’re not really a Russian are you?”
Traveller could never lie to a friend. Playing in the tournament together and winning through teamwork had created a bond between them. “No, I am your friend Tim.”
“So where are you really from?”
“I am from Benwar.”
“Which is located where?”
“Over two hundred light years away from here.”
“I knew it,” Tim said. “We’ve got to get you outta here before they take you away somewhere. Everyone in the gym could tell you weren’t normal. Man, the way you were in one place one second and another in the next. It was like watching Houdini man.”
Traveller smiled, “We beat them. Now Lori can have some money. Here she comes,” he said hearing hear van.
Jesse jumped out before Lori could shut the engine off. “That was far out, man. Jeeze Travis, you kicked some butt.”
Lori came up behind him, “And you just about got yours kicked.”
“You mean Willy? He’ll get over it.”
“What happened?” asked Tim.
“Nothing. Willy and his friends just wanted to vent some frustration. I gave them a little Jesse charm and they got over it.”
“You guys were great,” Lori said. “Everyone sitting in the bleachers kept marvelling at Traveller and his blue legs.”
“Yeah, Travis was just telling me he’s not from around these parts,” Tim said.
“He told you?” Lori asked startled.
“Yep, he’s an alien. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me, but I do think he needs to disappear before someone comes after him.”
“I was afraid of that. Damn it Jesse why did you have to show him off?” Lori asked.
“It’s okay, Lori. I have had more fun in the past week than I have my whole life. I have found friendship. There is nothing better,” Traveller said.
“We’d better take him back to Pomerelle tomorrow so he can lay low for a while,” said Tim. “Does anyone know he’s staying here?”
“No,” Lori answered.
“Here let’s split up the money,” Tim pulled out three one-hundred dollars bills and three tens. A hundred and ten for you,” he said giving Jesse his money.
“And a hundred and ten for you,” he said giving Traveller half of the rest.
“Here Lori. This is for you,” the alien said giving her the money.
“I can’t take that, it’s yours,” she protested.
“Lori, I have no use for money. You have been so kind to me. You need it, I don’t.”
Lori threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you Traveller.”
“And I you,” he said hugging her back. “Jesse, your sister had to borrow money from you parents.”
“I’ll give you half of this when I get some change, Sis,” he said. “I suggest we meet back here in the morning and take him back to his spaceship tomorrow.”
“I have to work,” said Lori.
“I’ll go with you,” said Tim.

Chapter 18 - Goodbyes
The next morning Jesse came over early. He had purchased a pound of bacon and a dozen eggs to cook for Traveller. He’d also picked up a few groceries for his friend to take back to Pomerelle. Traveller was so exhausted that he barely stirred when Jesse let himself in.
Traveller awoke to a delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen. He tried to place it. It wasn’t plant food. It smelled of chemically cured flesh, if that was possible. He rolled off of the couch. His muscles were stiff and sore. He lay on the floor to stretch before standing up. Traveller followed his nose to the kitchen.
“Stand back Star man. Jesse’s cooking breakfast,” his friend said.
Traveller shook hands and bumped shoulders with Jesse before saying, “Good morning Earthman.” He sat at the table with his translator on. “What are you cooking?”
“Bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, and toast. I’m not taking my best friend home without a farewell party.”
Someone knocked at the door. Traveller got up and answered it carrying his translator. “Tim!” he exclaimed hugging him. “We whupped butt last night, didn’t we?”
“Hi Travis. Damned straight. The whole campus is talking about it. I had several people ask me who you are last night. Something smells good.”
“Jesse’s cooking.”
Tim walked into the kitchen. “I didn’t know you cooked woman,” he joked.
“Only on special occassions. How ya doin’?”
“Little sore, but I had the time of my life the past two days.”
“Me too,” said Traveller.
“That makes three of us,” said Jesse. He placed a batch of cooked bacon on a serving plate covered with paper towels to absorb the grease. Jesse placed it in the oven before dumping a two pound package of O’Brien frozen potatoes in the bacon grease to cook.
“Coffee’s done,” Tim said noticing the pot had quit percolating. “Everyone want some?”
“Of course,” said Jesse.
“Lots of sugar please,” said Traveller. He heard a rustling down the hallway. Lori opened a door. She walked down the hallway then into the kitchen.
“I can’t believe it, Jesse’s cooking breakfast,” she said in astonishment.
“Here’s something else you won’t believe,” he said giving her fifty dollars from his prize money.
She hugged him. It was one of the few times he had ever given her anything. Mostly, he promised but never followed through. “Thank you Jesse.”
Traveller handed her a cup of coffee, “One teaspoon of sugar with a little milk, just how you like it.”
“How does everyone like their eggs?” asked Jesse.
“Over easy,” said Tim.
“Cooked hard,” said Lori.
“I’ll try both ways,” said Traveller.
Lori made toast while Jesse cooked the eggs and transferred them to the oven with the hashbrowns and bacon. When everything was ready, Jesse made Lori sit at the table. It was too small for the serving dishes so he sat them on T.V. trays near the table. He made Lori a plate before sitting down.
The three boys piled their plates high with food. “May I say grace?” asked Tim.
Traveller looked puzzled. Lori said yes. Jesse rolled his eyes.
“Bless this food heavenly Father and all those less fortunate than ourselves who will go hungry today. Bless my friends who have provided this bounty. Please protect them and keep them safe from all harm. In the name of the Son, the Father, and the Holy Ghost, Amen.”
Traveller wondered who the Son, the Father, and the Holy Ghost were, but only momentarily, his hunger drove the thought away. He bit into the bacon. His mouth exploded with a new smoky flavor. The crunchy texture added to the experience. “Far out,” he exclaimed automatically using the words he’d heard so many times on television.
Jesse beamed, “Glad you like it.”
After sampling everything, Lori said, “You’ve well, brother.”
Tim never said anything. He was too busy shoveling food into his mouth.
It wasn’t long before the serving trays sat empty. Lori collected the dishes. She ran warm water over them as the boys sipped their coffee and verbally replayed each play of each game from Friday and Saturday. Reliving the battles brought the boys ever closer together. So close, they didn’t even notice Lori’s disappearance.
When she came back, Lori was carrying two gigantic JC Penney’s bags. “Can I have your attention please?” she said. “I have a couple of gifts for Traveller.”
“Gifts for me?” asked Traveller.
“Yes,” Lori said pulling two packages out of the bag. “I bought you two sets of long johns. They are thermal underwear to keep you warm.” She handed them to the alien. “You put them on underneath your clothing.”
Traveller clutched them to his chest. “Thank you Lori.”
“I’m not done. Next, I bought you a flannel shirt and two pairs of Levis,” she said pulling them out of the same bag.
“And finally,” she said pulling a blue parka out of the other bag, “a down coat to keep hypothermia away.”
“Oh Lori I, I, I can’t begin to express my gratitude. You shouldn’t have spent your money on me. I can’t take these,” Traveller choked out.
“You can and you will. I could never forgive myself if someone found a blue alien frozen to death at Pomerelle. Besides Jesse and Tim pitched in.”
“By the universe, if I travelled another two hundred years, I couldn’t hope to find any better friends.”
“I have to go to work now Traveller. I’ll try to come and see you in a week or two. I’m going to miss you,” Lori said tearing up.
Traveller moved from the table to embrace the person who had given him so much. He paid her the highest compliment he could think of. “You would make a good Benwarian, Lori. It is an honor to know someone as great as you are.” His tears mingled with hers as he looked down at her.
She gently pushed him away, “I’m going to be late for work.” Lori looked at Jesse and Tim, “You guys better take care of him,” she said before she burst out the door.
“Good bye Lori!” Traveller called after her.
Jesse, always the master of understatement, said, “Jeeze, I think my sister likes you.”
“Like? Is that what you call it?” Tim replied.
“Boni bon bon,” said Traveller.

Everything they had given Traveller was packed in the front trunk of the Volkswagon. There were books, food items, and his clothing. Tim had thrown in a pair of snow shoes with insulated boots. He had also thrown in a pair of ski gloves, a knit cap, and some goggles.
It was eight-thirty before they finally rolled away from Lori’s. Even though it had only been a week, Traveller felt heavy of heart to be leaving.
Once they were on the freeway, Traveller activated his translator. “Is there any way I can get money for Lori?” he asked.
“We could rob a bank,” Jesse joked.
“Lori says no. We will end up in jail, a place to store people who break the law.”
“I know where there’s an old gold mine,” said Tim. “There’s still a building foundation with an old cook stove inside of it right by there.”
“What is a gold mine?”
“Gold is a valuable mineral that people pay a lot of money for,” said Jesse.
“Yeah,” said Tim. “My crucifix is gold.” He took the gold cross from around his neck to show it to Traveller. “Anyway, you know that road that runs along the Pomerelle parking lot? It leads back to the top of the ski runs before it cuts back to the east. You can drive to the ruins of an old cabin and then there’s a creek that flows down to the highway to Ward’s store. You follow the creek east and the foundation sits on the side of a hill. I’ve never really explored the area, but we could try panning for gold in the creek or try finding the mine shaft.”
“Can you show me where it is?” asked Traveller.
“Sure, we have plenty of time,” said Tim.

An hour and a half later, the Volkswagon was bouncing along the gravel road to Pomerelle.
“I miss Lori already,” said Traveller.
“I don’t,” said Jesse.
“She does so much for you Jesse. You should treat her better,” Traveller said.
Tim agreed, “Yeah, it’s not everyone who has a sister that gets between you and a six foot four mean as hell black guy.”
“That was embarrassing,” said Jesse. “What is this, the Lori fan club?”
“I’m a fan,” said Traveller.
“I am too,” said Tim.
“Okay, I give up. You guys are right. She deserves the pedestal you two put her on. From now on she’s golden just like Pony Boy.”
“You read the Outsiders?” asked Tim.
“Yeah, believe it or not. It’s the last book I can remember liking,” Jesse replied. “It’s in your sack of books Traveller. You’ll have to read it.”
“I will read it. I will read all of the books you humans have given me.”
“You know what I’d like to do Travis? Ride in your spaceship. That would be acroluminous,” said Jesse.
“Oh yes,” said Tim, “totally worth missing church for. Totally acroluminous.”
“We can use it to find the gold mine,” said Traveller.
“Alright, now we’re talkin’” said Jesse.

They putted up the road to Traveller’s camp site. “Wow, it looks like a pregnant airplane glider,” said Tim.
“This is going to be so groovy,” said Jesse as the sewing machine sound of the Volkswagen stopped.
They climbed of of the bug and Traveller pressed his remote control. A panel narrow panel came up before a ramp descended. Everyong grabbed something from the trunk of the Volkswagen and brought it inside. “You opened the door with that little device?” asked Tim.
“Yes,” Traveller said as Tim placed the packages inside the ship. He looked around which caused him to whistle with amazement. “Man, this is like nothing I’ve ever seen. Look, there's no controls Jesse.”
“Yeah, I know. Lori and I were here before.”
Traveller pushed a button on the console. A screen lit up with several different icons on it. “These are the controls. You push a symbol,” Traveller pushed one causing the cover panels in the front windows to come down, “and it tells the ship what to do.” He pushed another and the ramp retracted, the door panel closed.
“There’s no knobs or anything?” asked Tim.
“Knobs? Everything is controlled by what you understand to be a computer. Have you heard of a computer?”
“Yeah, we were discussing them in my futurology class. They store information and perform other mental tasks. I hear you can even buy one, but you have to put it together yourself.”
“Those human devices are primitive. My computer responds to voice commands. It controls the space pod also. It can perform many tasks such as distill water or produce synthowafers.”
“It’s cold in here. Can you have it turn up the heat?” asked Jesse.
“The biosensors embedded in the floor will do that automatically,” said Traveller. “One of you sit there,” He pointed at what the boys understood to be the copilot’s seat. “And one of you sit here.” He pointed to a heavy tarp on the floor before the cargo hold.
“I get shotgun!” called Jesse jumping into the seat.
When Tim was seated, Traveller fired up the thrusters. He pushed the up arrow causing the ship to slowly ascend. There was a slight roaring sound as it elevated. Once it cleared the trees, he pushed the throttle down and pulled back on the steering wheel. The ship moved eastward as it climbed into the sky. It took but a minute to fly over the ski lodge.
“You need to angle right, up that ridge,” said Tim pointing.
Traveller adjusted course. Soon he was flying along the top of the ski runs. A few seconds after passing the open area farthest east, the dilapidated cabin came into view.
“See the crevice? That’s where the creek bed is. Follow it downward,” instructed Tim.
Taveller turned slighly left until the pod was heading due east over the creek that was little more than a trickle in late fall. The willows and pine trees were dense along the base of the canyon. On the other side, a level place had been carved into the side of the mountain. "There it is," said Tim.
Traveller veered left and was soon hovering over the ruins of a building. A gigantic rusty cook stove sat alone and forlorn inside the crumbling rock walls of the structure. He flew over it and then hovered over the road that led to the valley below. The thrusters engaged to set the space pod gently onto a cleared space where the road started.
"That was cool," said Tim.
"Yeah, when are you going to teach me how to fly it?" asked Jesse.
Traveller powered the thrusters down before cutting the engines. "I do not know Jesse. One day soon, I hope. May I see your gold cross, Tim?"
"Sure," he said taking it off and handing it over.
Traveller put it on the table in the cargo hold. He opened a storage compartment on one of the walls and pulled out a wide mouthed device that looked like a hand held vacuum with a control screen like that on his console. When he powered it up, rows of icons filled the rectangle on the back of the device.
"This is a scanner. It will analyze the chemical composition of your necklace. It can then be programmed to alert us when we find some gold. It will give the distance and the coordinates in relationship to the space pod."
"Hot damn. We're going to be rich," said Jesse.
"There is probably a reason why this site is abandoned," said Traveller sensibly. He pressed an icon then ran the device over Tim's necklace. Next, he brought up a text screen. His fingers moved rapidly as he typed in instructions. When he finished, the doors were opened and they stepped outside.
The three boys scanned the area inside the foundation first. A beacon blinked red on the scanner. Neither its rhythm nor intensity changed as they explored inside the rocky ruins.
"Dang, you'd think somebody would have been polite enough to leave us a gold nugget or something," Jesse complained.
"Let's try the hillside," said Tim.
They walked along the side of the slope taking turns holding the scanner. Several mezures from the foundation, they stumbled upon a mine shaft. "Let's go inside," said Jesse.
"I don't know. It looks pretty unstable," said Tim. He held the scanner at the opening moving it around inside the cave. The red light never wavered. Jesse took the scanner away and went inside.
Traveller and Tim followed him. "You're crazy," Tim complained.
"Come on, only the daring ever accomplish anything in this world," Jesse said.
They could only see when the red light came on. The control panel didn't radiate far enough to illuminate the cave. Jesse became frustrated after penetrating the dark shaft far enough for the daylight at its mouth to disappear. "Can't you make this into a flashlight?" he said scrambling over some rocks that were strewn on the floor. When the red light came on, he could see a round dirt area with several pieces of rope coiled together.
Traveller came up behind him. "Those are living creatures. I can smell them."
Just then Jesse heard a rattle and then another and another. "Shit those are rattle snakes," he said freezing in place.
"Give me the scanner," Traveller said holding his hand out. Jesse gave it to him. He examined the icons until he found one that looked promising. When he pressed it, the scanner made a whirring sound, but provided no light. He pressed another that produced a weak beacon.
In the dim light, Jesse could see several snakes with dark colored diamonds on their backs slithering lethargically away from him. One brushed his boots.
"Good thing it's so cold," said Tim. "Otherwise they would be having you for lunch."
"Yeah, I think we've done enough exploring in here," said Jesse wisely.
"Can we take one of the snakes back to the ship so I can catalogue it?" asked Traveller.
"They're poisonous," said Jesse. "I'm not touching one."
"I'll get one," said Traveller. "Hold the light."
"Grab it behind the head so it can't strike you," said Tim.
"How could it hit me? It has no appendages," said Traveller.
"No, I mean bite you. It has fangs and can propel its body at you if it's coiled," Tim explained.
Traveller moved into the circle of snakes slowly. He started humming and the snakes stopped moving. Slowly, slowly he approached the biggest one. When he got within reaching distance, he kneeled down. The snake's eyes locked on Traveller's. He moved his head sideways; the snake moved his head sideways. There was a blur as the alien's hand shot forward to nab the snake behind the head. Interesting texture he thought. It's like a spinal chord wrapped in thin leather. Traveller draped the snake over his neck. "Let's take it back to the ship."
"That is so gross," said Jesse with admiration.
"What do snakes eat?" asked Traveller as they made their way back out of the cave.
"Mice and other rodents. They can even kill and swallow animals much larger than themselves, like a jackrabbit." Tim held his hands out to show how large a jackrabbit was.
"I've read that they can even hypnotize a bird so it stays where it’s at until they can poison it and eat it," he continued. "I think they hibernate in winter though."
"What does that mean?" asked Traveller.
"Well the mice don't move about in the winter so the snake sort of shuts down and sleeps until spring when it can find food again,"
"How evolutionarily marvelous!" said Traveller. "What a splendid adaptation to an ecosystem. By the universe, are there other species that hibernate?"
"Several." Tim replied. "A large animal called a bear does as well as marmots and prairie dogs."
"I simply must learn more about the animals on this planet. Lemmus had nothing but Lemmings. The animal species became extinct as Lemmings encroached upon and destroyed their habitats. Even domesticated animals were destroyed to make room for Lemmings."
"You mean there were no pets?" asked Tim.
"My world became too populated with Lemmings. Only plant foods and a few animals were allowed to survive. The animals were kept in cages and force fed to provide a source of protein for the wealthy. All others existed on plant-derived foods."
"I am actually reading about population growth in my sociology class," said Jesse. "Some guy named Malthus said that people will multiply until famine or disease checks their growth. My textbook contained a graph that showed how Earth's population exploded starting in the twentieth century when our farming methods and medical knowledge improved."
"That is what happened on my planet," said Traveller leading the way out of the cave.
When he emerged, Jesse and Tim saw the rattlesnake. "Jeeze, that thing is seven feet long!" Jesse exclaimed. "Look at its tail; it looks just like a racoon's with those black and white stripes."
Traveller had released the snake's head. It now dangled freely about his shoulders.
"You're going to get bit," said Tim in alarm.
"It won't bite me," said Traveller knowingly as the snake's forked tongue slithered in and out of its mouth.
By the time the boys arrived at the space pod the rattlesnake had wrapped intself around Traveller neck with its head rested on top of Traveller's. Tim and Jesses stayed well away from the alien; his relationship to the snake was alien to them. The rattler looked contented, almost blissful. Traveller opened the door to the pod then placed his new found friend inside.
"Are we done exploring?" he asked as the door closed again.
"We've got a few hours before we have to leave. Let's scan the creek maybe we can find some gold there," said Jesse.
The boys followed a path down to the water. It was an old game trail that went through the creek then along the mountainside back to the west. Traveller checked the scanner for gold when they stopped at the edge of the water. The light blinked red signifying there was none.
"Let's follow the trail back up the canyon," said Tim. "There's a stretch of stream that's clear of brush about a half mile up. We can check for gold there."
They walked the trail until they got to the spot Tim described. There the path diverged with one branch headed north back through the creek. Traveller scanned the water. This time the light turned green when he ran the device over a section of the stream.
They examined the bottom of the creek bed. "I don't see any gold," said Jesse.
"I don't either," said Traveller.
"We might have to pan for it," said Tim.
"You mean cook it?" asked Traveller.
"No, you use a plate with a high side to sluice the water around. The gold is heavier than the other rocks so it stays in the bottom of the pan. When you see a shiny speck you pick it out. I brought my mess kit, I'll show you." He pulled out the mess kit from his day pack and then broke the metal plate and cooking pan apart. He used the handled pan to scoop up water and rocks from where the scanner indicated the gold was then he swished the water around. "You have to look for yellow specks."
Tim sluiced the rocks around for several minutes occasionally separating the gravelly mud with his fingers. He found nothing so he threw the residue onto the bank.
"Let me try," said Jesse with a gleam in his eye. He stepped into the middle of the water then scooped a panful of rocks from the bed of the creek. After several minutes of sluicing and separating the gravel to look for gold specks he gave up.
Traveller had watched his friends and thought about the gold being heavier than the other rocks. "My turn," he said. He joined Jesse in the water. Traveller took the unhandled part of the kit from Tim. He dug deep into the bottom of the creek where Jesse had scooped his out and got a healthy amount of gravel. Now he took the handled pan and filled it with water. In an intuitive process, he would pour a bit of mud from the unhandled pan into the handled one then sluice the water about to look for a gold speck. On the third transfer, Traveller spotted the shiny gleam of a gold nugget about the size of the end of his little finger. He plucked it out of the mud, washed it off in the water, and then held it up to the light. "Found some!" he exclaimed.
"We're rich!" exclaimed Jesse.
"Not quite," said Tim.
Traveller handed Jesse the nugget. He took the scanner from Tim then waded up the stream with the red light blinking. When it turned green, he tried his gold sluicing method again. The brown mud glimmered gold but it was but a speck on the end of his finger.
The boys spent another hour sluicing the gravel. The sun had disappeared on the other side of the mountain before the more sensible Tim called time. "It's four o'clock. We'd better head back. It'll be dark before we get outta here."
"Is that enough gold to make Lori rich?" asked Traveller. They had found the nugget and two small flecks but nothing else.
Jesse and Tim laughed. "Not hardly, but I'll bet it is over an ounce though. It might pay her rent for two weeks."
Traveller looked disappointed. "I'll have to come back and try again," he said.

When they arrived at the space pod, Traveller remoted the door open. Curled in a tight coil with it's rattle in the air sat a seven foot long diamondback. The alien locked eyes with the snake, "Hello my crawling spinal chord," he said in a soothing tone.
Jesse freaked out. He grabbed Traveller by the shoulder to hold him back. "It's going to strike you!"
"No it won't. Watch," he formed a cup with his hand then slowly moved it toward the snake keeping his eyes locked on its. Traveller covered the snake's head for a moment before it slithered through his thumb and forefinger then up his arm.
"Oh jeeze, that's so gross," said Jesse as the rattler crawled across Traveller's shoulders and around his neck.
The alien stood just inside the entrance. "Why are you waiting? Get in," he said.
"I'm not getting in until you move completely out of the way," said Jesse.
"Right," said Tim. "The only good snake is a dead snake."
"I suspect that snakes serve a useful purpose," said Traveller.
"They do," said Tim. "They hold the rodent population in check, but still, I don't want to ride in no spaceship with one."
"My snake is perfectly harmless unless you provoke him. We invaded his habitat. He was perfectly happy in the cave. I'm going to take him back to his home after I study him for a while.”
The alien held the snake just behind the head so that its mouth opened. “What do you call these two long teeth?” he asked Jesse.
“They’re fangs. He uses them to inject poison into his prey. You’d better watch out.”
“Fangs, that sounds like a good name for him,” Traveller said moving closer to the boys who were now wide-eyed and backing away from the ship. With a smile, Traveller withdrew inside.
After Traveller sat in the pilot's seat, the two boys entered the spaceship. "You get co-pilot. That way you can be closer to Fangs," said Tim to Jesse.
"No, I'll sit back here with you," Jesse replied rolling his eyes and staying well away from the snake-adorned alien.
Traveller started the engines before engaging the thrusters. The thrusters whined quietly, the ship elevated. Power was cut to one thruster making the ship twirl around in the other direction. Once it faced westward. Traveller cut power to the other thruster engaging the engines. The ship shot back up the canyon.
Minutes later, Tim's VW came into view. Traveller flew above the secluded campground, stopped the ship, and engaged the thrusters. It slowly descended coming to a rest near the car. The engines stopped, the door opened.
"Can you leave the snake here?" asked Jesse. "He gives me the heebie jeebies."
"Yeah, he reminds me of my high school Enlgish teacher," said Tim.
Traveller waited for the boys to exit before setting the snake on the floor. He slithered off into the cargo hold. The boys stood by the VW.
"I wish you could've stayed in Pocatello," said Jesse wistfully.
"Yeah, me too," said Tim. "We'll have to come back next weekend to check on you."
"I'll miss you guys. No more basketball, no more Lori, no more Mexican food, no more hamburgers. I'll be bored."
"We'd better go," Jesse held his hand out. Traveller shook it and then drew his friend to him for a hug. He did the same with Tim while Jesse got in the car.
Tim climbed behind the wheel of the terrapod. When he turned the ignition switch, the engine turned over once, sputtered, and then died. Tim put the car in second gear. "You guys get me headed downhill, and I'll pop the clutch." He turned the car to the left while the other two pushed.
Jesse jumped in as the car picked up speed. Traveller kept pushing until Tim let the clutch out. The car jumped a little then the cylinders fired as the engine started. The Volkswagen shot ahead leaving Traveller in the road waving goodbye.Chapter 19 - Alone

Traveller went back to his space pod and closed the door. He searched the sack of groceries Jesse had given him. Inside, he found two jumbo jars of peanut butter, a jar of jelly, two boxes of saltine crackers, two cans that said sardines in mustard on top, and a can of coffee. There was also a small bag of apples. He loved apples. Only Lori knew how much. She must have included them.
Next, he opened the box of books. There he found a dictionary, a set of condensed encyclopedias, a year's worth of back issues of Time magazine, and a two volume set entitled "An Outline of History." There was also a separate grocery bag with several novels. On top of the books he found a card from Lori. It read:

Dear Traveller,
I enjoyed your company. Well, except for the time we had Mexican food at the Pilot House that kind of stunk. I hope to see you next weekend if all goes well.
Love,
Lori

Traveller put the card in front of the pilot's seat and sat down with his dictionary. He had a tablet along with a pen that Tim had given him. He copied the pronunciation key then started studying it in an attempt to learn how to read.
Hours later, he turned on his console trying to find a television station. After allowing the computer to perform a random search and boosting the antennae, a black man came on standing in the middle of a stage by himself. "My name is Flip Wilson," he said. Just then a woman walked by. Flip walked behind her swaying his behind and swinging a purse imitating her walk. When she turned and saw him, she became upset and swung a purse at him. "The devil made me do it!" he screamed putting his arms over his head.
After being bludgeoned, he introduced the first act, "Tonight we be really lucky. Our musical guests are the fabulous Bee Gees from Australia."
The curtain parted to reveal a singing troupe with white sequined uniforms. They started singing what appeared to be English, except one of the words didn't make any sense. He opened his dictionary and tried to find the word 'jive'. It wasn't there. What the hell is jive talkin'?
Traveller didn't want to get confused so he had the computer search the airways again. This time "Hee Haw" came in. Roy Clark was singing, "Yesterday when I was young. So many different songs were waiting to be sung . . ." The melancholy song caused Traveller remember his parents. He wondered what they were doing right now. For a moment he missed the sameness, the routine, and even the boredom of being on Ship.
The Benwarian watched television until well into the night with a dictionary in hand. He looked up any words he didn't understand.

For the next two days, Traveller studied English. He used the translator as he watched television to become ever more familiar with the language. He became enthralled with a soap opera called General Hospital.
On Wednesday he tired of T.V., so he read the set of encyclopedias. He opened each volume randomly to read the entries on the pages. Once he opened a book to an article about mountain lions. There were also called pumas or catamounts. He liked the word catamount. It meant cat of the mountain. The article stated that the cat could weigh up to two hundred and fifty pounds but an average one weighed a hundred thirty-six pounds. They hunted deer and other animals at night or during the gloaming hours of dawn. He had to look the word gloaming up. It meant twilight. He didn't know what twilight meant so he looked that up too. It meant the time between sunrise and full night when the sun couldn't be seen but it still lit up the horizon. It was a time of silhouettes and shadows. Traveller wondered if there were any mountain lions in the area around Pomerelle prowling around in the gloaming dusk, the time between sunset and full night. The dictionary said that twilight refers to both times of the day.
Traveller arranged his bed in the cargo hold. He crawled under the space blanket, soon finding himself in the gloaming part of sleep, a time of dreams and visions just before deep sleep arrived.
Early Thursday morning, Traveller awoke with a cold heaviness on his chest. When he made a slight movement, a rattling sound ensued. “Lumination,” he commanded the ship’s computer to light the cargo hold before holding the blanket up. He found himself face to face with his new friend, Fangs. The snake’s head stood erect with its white fangs bared. He held the rattler’s eyes until it quit rattling. It dropped its head then slithered up Traveller’s chest and across his face before diappearing into the back of the hold. Jesse would have freaked out he thought.
Traveller pulled himself out of the blankets. He got his day pack ready filling it with water containers, syntho-wafers, and one of the red fruits Jesse had given him. He included his scanner, the laser, and Tim’s mess kit. That was nice of Tim he thought as he placed it with the other tools. I miss my friends. Fang’s not much company. He’s too grouchy.
Traveller dressed in Levis and his new flannel shirt. He donned his down coat before opening the doors to the gloaming sunrise burning red on the eastern horizon. The trees loomed black against the morning sky, the air was biting cold. He grabbed the stocking cap from the pocket of his coat and pulled it over his ears where he felt the bite of the morning air. In the other pocket he had placed an electronic head lamp found on a search through the cargo hold. With it on over the cap, he stepped out.
Traveller activated the light. He walked west staying on the ridge. The sun arose behind him clearing the trees as he turned north toward what the sign said was the Thompson Flat Campground. A stream ran alongside the road that led north into the trees.
The headlamp beam caught the gleam of two eyes and the movement of a head. A female deer and two large fawns looked up from where they were drinking water. They seemed unconcerned until he approached too close and then they trotted back into the trees.
Traveller got his scanner. He followed the water until the light turned green. He took the mess kit from his pack before straddling the creek to scoop mud from its bottom. Again he used the unhandled half to get the gravel, pouring small amounts of dirt into the handled part and sluicing it. This time he had a beacon of light that the gold would reflect off of. It immediately bounced off of several gold glitters. Traveller picked the slivers out and placed them in a medicine bottle Jesse had given him. He worked the stream for over two hours in the chilled morning air finding several small flakes but no sizable nugget. The cold seemed to intensify turning his hands numb and useless.
He gave up prospecting to follow the road into the campground. He walked past many sites before finding one with a small stack of firewood near the cement pit. Traveller lifted the metal grate before gathering pine needles, small twigs, and larger pieces of deadwood he pulled from underneath the live branches of the surrounding trees. He placed the needles and twigs in the bottom of the pit and then criss-crossed the larger branches across the top of the kindling.
Next, he checked the Forest Service garbage can chained to a nearby tree. He pulled a brown grocery sack full of paper from the black plastic liner and placed it on top of the thatched branches adding more wood on top. The fire flamed on the first match. In minutes his hands were warming against the orange and yellow tongues of combustion.
Traveller was dozing with his feet on the warm cement when he heard a vehicle approaching. A green truck with a uniformed driver came into view as it rounded a bend in the road. It pulled up beside the campsite.
The man inside rolled his window down. “How are you this morning?” he asked.
Traveller forgot himself. “Boni bon bon,” he replied.
“Excuse me?”
The alien turned blue, “I am fine.”
“Are you sure? You look like you’re freezing to death.”
“I was until I built a fire.”
“How did you get here? I haven’t seen another vehicle up here since last weekend.”
“My friends dropped me off.”
“Where are they?”
“They went back to Idaho State University.”
“And left you here?”
“Yes, they are coming back this weekend.”
“It’s supposed to storm tomorrow. They might not make it back.”
“My friends are the best in the universe. Of course they will come back.”
“I’m going back down the mountain. If it snows hard enough you’ll be stuck here until they plow the roads. Are you sure you don’t want a ride?”
“I’ve seen pictures of snow. It won’t kill me will it?” Traveller asked.
“What an odd question. You’ve never actually seen snow?”
“No, I just got here from Russia.”
“There’s no snow in Russia?” the ranger asked increduously.
“Not that I know of.”
“I always thought Russia was one of the coldest countries in the world.”
“What does that have to do with snow?” Traveller asked.
“You’re joking, right?” the ranger asked. “Where are you staying?” He was becoming suspicious. The more he looked at Traveller the more suspicious he became.
Traveller didn’t say anything as he wondered what to tell the man in the uniform. Finally, he decided to change the subject. “Are there any mountain lions up here?” he asked gettiing up to move as close to the ranger as possible. He put a hand on the man’s arm looking into the ranger’s eyes to convey trust.
The ranger forgot his question to answer Traveller’s. “I’ve never seen one, but they have all kinds of pictures of mountain lions down at Ward’s store.”
“So there are mountain lions around. Where is Ward’s store?”
“Yes, but they steer well clear of humans. They are very shy unless they get too hungry. To get to the store you take the Albion highway south to the Malta junction. It’s right at the T in the road. ”
“What happens when a mountain lion gets too hungry?”
“They have been known to attack humans. Mostly children or someone by themselves.”
“I will be careful then,” he said patting the man’s arm. “Well you can go now.”
The ranger started his pick-up. He did what Traveller suggested without really knowing why.
When the ranger left, Traveller opened the grate of the fire pit, stomped on the dying coals, and then doused them with water. He stirred the ashes with a stick before dousing them again. When he was satisfied the fire was out, he walked rapidly into the trees, heading east.
Breaking into a nice easy lope, he quickly made it back to his space pod. Traveller jumped in when the door opened. The second he hit the pilot’s seat, the thrusters were ignited so that the ship lifted. When it got above the trees, he engaged the engine and flew east.
The Forest Service ranger spotted the white ship as it emerged above the trees. He stopped his truck, got the binoculars out, and scoped the horizon. The white oblong ship turned blue making the sky shimmer before it disappeared. It wasn’t until then that the ranger realized that the man at the campfire hadn’t said where he had come from.

Traveller elevated well into the sky flying due east. He accelerated. Within minutes his ship had intersected the Albion highway. He turned right heading south until the road ended at the T intersection described by the forest ranger. Circling above, several buildings could be seen. On the side of one of the buildings facing the highway, a big white sign with black letters said ‘Ward’s General Store.’
To the north of the store, a hill dotted with silver cedars rose up. Behind it, a small depression with several pines trees surrounding it suggested that it would make a great place to park. He glided over it, hovered, engaged the thrusters, and then landed the spaceship.
He put his parka on over his flannel shirt before opening the door and stepping out. Traveller walked over the hill then down the other side into the yard behind the store.
The place appeared to be abandoned, but on the other side of the store he spotted a man sweeping the porch.
“Hello sir,” he said startling the bearded man with a greasy grey jacket on.
“Where’d you come from?” he inquired.
“I walked here from the north,” said Traveller.
“What can I do for you?”
“The U.S. Forest Service ranger told me you had photographs of mountain lions on your counter. Can I see them?”
“Sure,” he said. “Come on inside.”
Traveller followed the man into the store. Its dimly lit interior contained a few groceries, a pop machine, and a display of VHS video tapes. “They’re under the glass over there,” the man said.
Traveller hurried to the counter where he found several photos of catamounts, as he liked to think of them. One showed a tawny cat staring fiercely down from a tree; another had one of the mountain lions sunning on a rocky ledge. One shot showed a cat ripping meat from a deer carcass.
“How did you get so close? Traveller asked the man.
“I didn’t. They were taken with a telephoto lens.”
“Where can I find a mountain lion?” he asked.
“Some of those were taken on Jim Sage Mountain. You just take a left at the intersection and head back toward Malta. You’ll come to a sign a few miles up the road and then you turn right. Are you okay? You look a little blue.”
“I am well, thank you.”
“Do you want a ride somewhere? Where’re ya parked?”
“No, I walked here from the north.”
“Well, I’ve got a pickup to work on. If you don’t need anything else, I’ll lock this back up and git to work.”
“Thank you for the directions,” Traveller said.
Traveller waited until the man disappeared inside of his garage. When he was inside, the alien walked northeast, quickly covering the quarter mile between the hills and the man’s shop. The storeowner waited inside then came back out to see where his strange visitor had gone. He looked around for several minutes before spotting Traveller running rapidly up the hill behind his shop. It astounded him to see his visitor running up the hill far faster than was humanly possible.Chapter 20 - Catamounts

Traveller lifted off the ground elevating above the hill to head eastward again. He followed what he now knew to be Highway 77 toward the small hamlet of Malta. It was not long before he spotted Jim Sage Mountain. A ridge ran along its top. Traveller turned south then elevated to 10,000 mezures.
In the valley below him, Traveller caught glimpses of a creek meandering through the green fields that lined the valley. Dense vegetation obscured most of the waterway. To the south of the small valley, hills rose up to become mountains. On the slopes cattle grazed.
Following the contour of the mountain, he could see the pinion-pines and junipers that covered the slopes to where the shale and rock formed a skirmish line holding the trees back. The upper slopes sat wild and windswept. At the top, rocky cliffs with red-tinted rock outcroppings lined the high desert plateau. A small herd of deer walked along the trail at the base of the cliffs. Traveller traveled the ridge until it ended then circled back in an attempt to spot a catamount. I have to see one of the tawny creatures that were in the pictures. I will photograph it and send a picture back to Ship then they will see I am not a total failure. Then he remembered. They hunt at dawn and dusk during the gloaming part of the day. I will set the ship down and wait.
He found a suitable place to land on the plateau to the south of the cliffs. The wind rocked his ship causing it to wobble as it landed. The buffeting continued, so he elevated again. The ship continued on to the west until Traveller spotted a large rock jutting from the plateau. On its east side, sand had swirled into a wind-protected beach where he sat the spaceship down again. Traveller cut the engines as the wind howled around him.
He checked his watch to see that it was three-thirty in the afternoon. He rummaged through the sack of books in the cargo hold to find Animal Farm by George Orwell. The novel began with Old Major, the hog, lecturing against humans, calling them parasites because they live off the labor of farm animals. When Old Major dies, two other hogs take over the leadership of the barnyard animals. The new leaders, Snowball and Napoleon, lead a revolt to drive the drunken farm’s owner, Mr. Jones away. When they succeed, seven commandments are written. The last one states the all animals are equal.
Traveller enjoyed the author’s imagination. Imagine a world in which animals are in charge. He thought of his own home world where Lemmings had destroyed all but a few animals and even those were confined to cages to make room for the ever-increasing numbers of Lemmings. Eventually, Traveller tired of reading. He closed his eyes and dozed.
An hour later, the sun sat just above the mountains in the west. Traveller exited his space ship to walk up and across the plateau with his digital camera in hand. When he got to the top of the ridge, the game trail at its base came into view. The sun sank rapidly as he walked quickly along the edge of the cliff peering down. The adrenaline caused by his excitement coursed through his body.
Traveller stopped, sniffed the air. The scent of deer emanated from the trail below. They came into view trotting west through the trees that lined the path. There was also another scent, an unfamiliar one. He heard rocks clatter. Something caused the deer to bolt from the trail down the side of the mountain but nothing came into view behind them.
Traveller stayed on the ridge and resumed his walk to the east. The dark gathered around him making it impossible to see. A loud, terrifying, howling screech sounded on the north slope of the mountain startling him. The scent of blood reached his nose.
Realizing the danger of the dark, he pulled the headlamp out of his daypack, switched it on and started back, leaving the edge of the ridge. Traveller’s bitter disappointment at not seeing a catamount accompanied him back to the spaceship.
Inside the ship, he made several synthowafer and peanut butter sandwiches placing them on the console near his seat before opening Animal Farm to resume his read. Napoleon and Snowball were competing for leadership of the other animals. Napoleon gains an advantage by training an army of farm dogs. Snowball is banished, while those animals who oppose Napoleon’s rule are killed. Boxer the horse tells everyone that Napoleon is always right.
As Napoleon consolidates his power, he becomes ever more corrupt. He and the other pigs break their own commandments or change them when it suits them. Napoleon takes to wearing a uniform, sleeps in a bed, and drinks alcohol, activities that were once forbidden by the commandments. The more power the pig gains the more corrupt he becomes. Traveller could predict the train wreck to come. He closed the book to wonder why he hadn’t been able to spot a mountain lion. He was sure he had smelled and heard one.
I was too excited. Maybe they smelled my adrenaline and sensed danger. If I walk slower and keep calm, I will have a better chance of seeing one. He turned his view screen on to watch television as he ate his synthowafer sandwiches.

The next morning, Traveller awoke early while only the stars and the crescent moon broke the black of night. He dressed, stuffing the camera in the inside pocket of his down coat. Once outside, the chill air bit at his exposed skin. Staying low on the southern side of the mountain, Traveller walked eastward behind the ridge with his headlamp on. The rock ledge slowly dwindled with the slope also gradually diminishing. The light of the sun pushed the dark away as he moved around the mountain to the other side.
With the headlamp off, Traveller walked slowly to the west, through the trees that dotted the landscape. He thought back to what Porter had always stressed. He tried to stay calm. Breathe in deeply, let the air out slowly, feel the tension leave. He actually stopped moving to relax.
The light gradually increased until the tip of the sun peaked over the distant mountains. Traveller placed each step carefully so as not to make noise. When he broke through a copse of trees, a strong odor of blood assaulted his nostrils. Turning his attention to the source of the smell, a brown mass of movement captured his eyes. A tawny cat was dragging the gutted carcass of a deer through the trees. The mountain lion’s long tail swished back and forth while its jaws firmly clenched the doe’s neck.
The lion was just entering the trees when Traveller snapped his first picture. He waited until the camera adjusted the frame for a close-up before pressing the button on top. The cat turned its head just in time for its fierce yellow eyes to be captured in a digital reproduction of the moment. Two more shots and the cat adjusted the weight of the dead deer and carried it off into the trees. I did it! That was far out!

Back inside the spaceship, Traveller activated the computer. Experimentation coupled with following the screen instructions allowed him to download the pictures of the mountain lion into the ship’s database. He brought the picture up on the view screen. The golden morning sunlight reflected off of the green trees with the tan lion and tawny deer’s hide juxtaposed against the red flesh of the kill. The contrast of colors is acroluminous! Traveller studied the picture for a long time before returning to his book.
Eventually the pigs in Animal Farm replace Mr. Jones as the oppressor. They learn to walk upright, carry whips, and form an alliance with humans against the working class of both worlds. Traveller had read about societies on Lemmus whose history resembled that of Animal Farm. Whenever ruling elite sprang up in any of Lemmus’s societies, the working class was taken advantage of, oppressed. He wondered how many societies on Earth resembled the situation described in Animal Farm. By equating humans with pigs Orwell must be saying that those in power are greedy and self-serving.
The sky darkened seemingly in sympathy with Traveller’s thoughts. His mind had been dormant while on Ship. Learning a new language while contrasting his world with this one had caused him to think deeply about himself, his relationship to the world. The wind buffeted the ship as the storm blew in. Within minutes the cool autumn morning had changed into a blustery snow storm. White flakes fell on the windshield to melt into streams that traveled the clear surface. After several minutes the snow started sticking. Soon, the windshield became covered with white water crystals clinging to each other. They built up until the outside world was obscured.
Traveller decided to wait the snowstorm out. His snow-covered windshield caused him to reflect on what had obscured his own view of the universe. Orwell, from Snowball’s point of view had written that mankind puts his own interests before all creatures but himself. Yet his limited experience with humans had been the exact opposite. His friends had helped him, sheltered and clothed him, even fed him. He decided that Earth was a very complicated place.
He continued to read about the pigs’ transformation into humans until the book ended with Orwell writing that the other farm creatures watched the pigs playing cards with the men. They looked from man to pig, and from pig to man again, but could no longer tell the two species apart. This negative view of mankind troubled him, made him want to learn more about Earthlings. I wish Lori were here so she could explain how she feels about the book.

The snow stopped falling late that afternoon. The wind howling across the mountain top had caused it to drift over the rock and gather on top of his ship. Traveller could feel the weight of the snow pushing against his roof. When he tried to open the door, it opened a quarter mezure then stopped as the snow built up behind it. Manually pushing against the door proved fruitless. He re-closed it then sat back in the pilot’s seat.
Traveller turned on the five o’clock news. He watched the national and international news until the weather announcer appeared. “Our first snow storm left ten to twelve inches in Pocatello and up to three feet in the mountains. Another storm will hit the area tonight. Up to six inches is predicted for Pocatello with two feet falling in the higher elevations.” I have to get my ship out from under this snow or it will be buried for good he thought. How am I going to do that? The thrusters, turn them on and melt the snow.
Traveller engaged the thrusters adding just enough thrust to push against the snow. His spaceship was definitely stuck in what he later came to know as a snow drift.
He searched the cargo hold for something to dig with until a long handled scoop was found. Again the door was opened this time with Traveller pushing hard against it. Snow fell onto the floor of the ship. When the crack was as wide as possible, he used the scoop to shovel the snow into his ship. He shovelled for several minutes before pushing on the door again. This time snow fell down from the drift. He had to re-shovel and then push, re-shovel and then push, until finally the top of the drift collapsed. Now, he could climb out. He turned the thrusters to stasis before climbing up through the snow then onto the top of the drift. Once there, he shoveled the drift from the top of his spaceship and cleared a space around the outside of it. On the back side of the ship, water ran from the snow the thrusters had melted.
He had been so intent on getting the ship out that he hadn’t looked around him. Once he did so, Traveller saw a land transformed into a beautiful montage of color. White-covered green trees, white-dusted red rock, and white sand dunes pushed against light brown rock formations created what for him was a surrealistic landscape set against a bruised sky. It was as if he had been transported to another planet. And then it came to him. A cougar will leave imprints with his paws in this. Maybe I can find one by following its tracks.
Traveller hurried into his spaceship. He elevated out of the drift to fly north over the ridge and then flew down the slope searching for a suitable landing site. A rock outcropping with plenty of room for his ship appeared as he flew back to the east. The natural canopy would provide shelter from the snow so he circled around, engaged the thrusters, and landed underneath it.
Traveller got out of the ship before putting the snow shoes on. He headed uphill. The dark rapidly approached as he powered up the slope until he found a game trail. He snow-shoed slowly east along it. When he picked up the scent of a cougar, the head lamp was turned on. Walking farther east with the light on the trail, he spotted a set of tracks that crossed the path and led up into rocks. The scent of the lion was stronger with each step up the slope.
The tracks led up through a passageway in the rocks then onto a small plateau with several junipers. Traveller turned the lamp off before he slowed his walk to a crouching crawl staying behind the trees. When he got to the edge of the vegetation, he spotted a mountain lion lying in a cave looking down at him. Being face to face with a ferocious predator brought a feeling of terrifying awe.
It snarled when he flipped his light on. Traveller kept the beam on the cat as he took several shots with his digital camera. The cat became nervous then agitated. When it growled and walked around, Traveller sensed its aggression. He turned his light off and slipped back through the trees.

Traveller awoke early the next morning. He used the laser to heat some water for instant coffee. Two teaspoons of Folgers with the same amount of sugar brought him eye-poppingly awake. A couple of synthowafers later, he left the spaceship as the sky began to change from black to grey.
Traveller snow-shoed back up the mountain. When he arrived at the junipers, a strong feline scent came from ahead and to the east of him. It immediately started to fade telling him that the puma (another name for a catamount) was heading away eastward to the base of the cliffs. He followed the smell until he came to a game trail. Once there Traveller stopped to survey the area ahead of him. A glimpse of a black tipped tail told him that the cat was just ahead.
Now the smell of deer reached his nostrils. It strengthened as the small herd headed his way. He hurried forward sensing that the mountain lion lay in ambush somewhere on the trail before him.
At the top of a slight ridge, he saw the cougar crouched on a tall boulder lying near the edge of the path. When the deer filed past, the cat jumped on the back of a large doe. Clutching the deer on either side with its claws sunk deep into its hide, blood spurted red streaks as the animal jumped to get away. The claws raked long gashes across the deer's ribs, but it managed to free itself momentarily.
The cougar lunged after the bleeding doe, sinking large canines into the animal's back haunches. The deer went down. Again the cougar lunged, this time for the neck. It sunk its teeth deep into the doe's spinal chord. A vigorous shake ended the struggle. The deer's eyes clouded over. Its life ended with the spasmodic twitching of four legs.
Traveller had become so engrossed in watching the life and death struggle that he had forgotten to photograph it. As he watched the cougar pull its prey up into the rocks, he remembered. Lization! By the universe! What is wrong with me? It was too late to get a picture of anything but the cat disappearing into the rocks. With bitter disappointment, he returned to his ship.

Once inside the confines of his pod, Traveller took his coat and snow shoes off. Angry at himself, he threw the snow shoes haphazardly into the cargo hold. A slithering movement accompanied by a rattling sound ensued. I forgot about Fang. Jesse was so shocked when I draped him around my neck. That was funny. Thinking of Jesse triggered his memory. My friends might come today. I need to get back to the campsite.
Excited, Traveller plopped in the pilot's seat, engaged the thrusters, and then slowly moved out from under the rock canopy. The ship shot straight out away from the mountain before turning west. He followed the highway to Ward's store then veered north toward Pomerelle. Several herds of deer appeared as moving dots on the white snow as they migrated to the lower elevations.
Traveller moved slowly westward, observing the changes the snow had wrought on the landscape below. Green pine trees sat frosted in white snow. The highways made black snakes twisting on the white carpeted terrain. The creek edged by red willows meandered in a trail of color on the white surface. What an acroluminous change! he thought and then he remembered. Putting the ship on autopilot, he retrieved the digital camera from the cargo hold to take several freeze frame shots of Earth's painted surface. Click, click, each click a masterpiece wrought by the Universe.
He flew toward Elba before cutting north, and then the ship was elevated above the mountains. Soon Pomerelle came into view with tree-lined ski runs twisting through the dark green arrows that pointed skyward. Cutting back toward the west, Traveller spotted the campsite.
Circling in the air, the approach was made from the east. Stablizer bars were extended to make landing skids. I don't want to use the thrusters and bury myself in the snow. He slowed the ship to a crawl setting down parallel to the ground. The craft skidded through an opening in the trees stopping where he judged the campsite to be.

Traveller's friends didn't show up that day. He spent the afternoon studying or watching T.V. The next morning, he started reading Hermanne Hesse's Siddhartha. It was slow going. After a few minutes he gave up.
Dressed in snowshoes and his down coat, Traveller left the spaceship. The sky, dark and grey, filled with snowflakes that became progressively thicker. Wading in the deep snow brought the realization that neither Lori's van nor Tim's V.W. were suitable vehicles for storm travel. He returned to his ship to wait the storm out knowing they wouldn't be able to visit him today or for several days.

The snow let up late that evening. The next morning, Traveller dug the spaceship out of the snow again before engaging the lifters. He flew back to Jim Sage Mountain. When he arrived at the rock outcropping, it was surrounded by drifts but the ground underneath was bare. Traveller flew toward it then cut the engines and engaged the reverse thrusters to slow the space craft. He cut all power to the thrusters and engines before extending the stablizers. The ship skidded on top of the snow then burst through a snowdrift coming to rest under the rock canopy. That was fun. I am learning how to fly this thing!
Traveller's plan was to spend five days photographing cougars. He would read and study in the daytime, hunt for mountain lions in the mornings and evenings. He found a book called Siddhartha and started reading.
The first chapters explained that Siddhartha, a young, handsome Brahmin, mastered the wisdom and religion of his village at an early age. Despite learning the thoughts of his elders, he remained dissatisfied. He yearned for enlightenment, feeling that the village wise men had yet to achieve that lofty goal. The young prince decided not to follow in his father's footsteps, but to seek something deeper than the customs and traditions of the Hindu religion. So it is that he decides to go on a spiritual journey, a quest for nirvana.
Traveller empathized with Siddhartha. In a sense, he had done the same thing. His father had expected him to become a geneticist, but he had found that vocation boring. He wanted adventure and so had sneaked onto one of the space pods sent to explore Earth. His quest had also become one of searching for truth and enlightenment. A mutlitude of thoughts plagued him now that he was learning about a new world.Chapter 21 - A Deadly Predator

The deer moved down to the lower elevations of Jim Sage Mountain after the storms. The temperature moved above freezing melting the snow at 5,500 feet and below. There were four mountain lions on Jim Sage. A large male, two smaller females, and young male barely a year old. The lions stayed at the higher elevations except to hunt. At morning and night they descended to stalk their prey.
Traveller had spent most of the week tracking cougars. Although remaining quiet and calm, he caught only a few glimpses of the cats. His scent rested heavily upon the snow-packed upper reaches of the mountain. It wasn't until Thursday that he realized that the cougar's prey had migrated to their winter grounds in the valley and foothills.
That morning, his excitement grew as he ate his synthowafers washing them down with coffee. When he finished, Traveller put on his down coat, slung on a day pack, hung the camera around his neck, opened the door and shuffled across the sand in his snowshoes.

***

While Traveller remained ignorant of the lions' whereabouts, they were well aware of his prescence at all times. They had familiarized themselves with his odor. His clumsy attempts to track them with snowshoes on while walking in the heavy snow were futile. They simply circled around him.
The largest male made a kill that morning in the willows that banked Cassia Creek. He had waited by the water until an older fawn had come to drink and then pounced on it for an easy kill. The females had also made successful hunts earlier in the week dragging the uneaten portion of their carcasses uphill where they wouldn't be bothered.
The young male cat hadn't been successful for days. His mother, one of the females, allowed him to pick over the remains of her kill, but there was little flesh left by the time she allowed him to gnaw on the bones. The larger cat kept the young cougar clear away from his carcass.
Although the young cat had made several attempts to bring down a deer, his hunts had been clumsy and fruitless. Desperate, the youngster's hunger caused him to seek easier prey. He had seen an awkward animal shuffling through the snow several times. He had even followed the strange creature back to its lair. It always entered and exited on the same path. Although its scent was alien, the cougar knew a meal when he smelled one. The cat also knew the rhythm of the creature. Like most animals, it holed up at night and during the day, moving about in the mornings and evenings. The cougar cub followed his prey back to its lair that morning. Once he was sure where the strange creature was, he circled around to the top of the rock outcropping overlooking its trail and waited.
The sun came out that day banishing the clouds from the sky. It made the cougar's wait a pleasant day of napping on the bare red rock in the warm rays of light. The cat's hunger grew along with his anticipation as the sun traveled the sky and began to sink in the low western horizon. A whirr coupled with the crunch of crusted snow alerted the cougar causing him to crouch low on the edge of the rock. Every muscle tensed in anticipation of fresh flesh.
The creature emerged from the rock shuffling on the snow. The cat bunched all four legs; his muscle bundled into taut springs. When his prey was just at the right distance, the cougar jumped landing onto the beast's shoulders and driving him into the snow.
The cougar's claws dug and tore, but his blood lust wasn't satisfied. Only blue and white puffs of color were thrown into the air. In a frenzied attempt to kill, the cougar bit at the creature's head. Now the blood flowed, and the cougar tried to grasp and hold the creature so he could break its neck.

***

Traveller was just gliding away from the outcropping in the late afternoon when he was driven into the snow face first. He smelled the cougar before he realized it was tearing at his coat trying to tear him apart. The cat bit the back of his head causing an explosion of pain. He rolled sweeping the cougar off of him, but with lightening speed the cat dove for his face. When Traveller stiff-armed it, the cat bit at his hand and clawed his arm. The cat's teeth weren't able to penetrate the down coat but its claws gained purchase on his right wrist. He swung his left fist with all his might catching the cougar on the side of the head. The blow stunned the cat knocking it a few mezures away. The cat’s claws, embedded in his flesh, raked gashes down his arm.
Traveller rolled away again and got up. The pain caused the alien to explode with rage. Now, he became the aggressor. Kicking the snowshoes off, he charged the cat. It watched dazed and dull-eyed as its prey became the hunter. Before the cougar could regain its wits, Traveller picked it up and held it high in the air. The cat clutched at his arms ineffectually before he threw it into the snowy sage brush.
Snow exploded and branches cracked as the lion landed. Its wits returned when it realized the danger it danced with. Traveller's unexpected aggression prompted the cat to extricate itself from the brush and flee.
He ran after it, but after a few steps in the deep snow he realized the chase would prove futile. It was then that he saw the snow painted red with his blood. His wrist was bleeding and there was a hot stickiness flowing down the back of his neck. His coat, the coat Lori had given him, was torn and tattered into blue and white shreds.
Lization not the coat! What will I do now? I have to stop the bleeding. I know. Traveller sat down then pulled several shreds of nylon off of the coat before he took it off along with the flannel shirt underneath. He twined the strips together making a tourniquet, and then tied a knot around his upper arm. The nylon was pulled tight using his mouth and good hand until the blood flow lessened, but the flow down his back continued.
Pressure, I have to apply pressure. Traveller tore a piece of cloth from his flannel shirt then held it tightly against the bite wounds for a few minutes. Dizziness washed over him in waves. Quickly, he tied two pieces of the nylon coat together then wrapped it around his head to tie the flannel tightly against his wound using both the good hand and bad to tie the knot. The snow blurred, but he completed the task.
He stood up. Weak from the loss of blood, he staggered back toward the spaceship. The alien wobbled forward barely able to steady himself when he fell against the rock wall of the outcropping. Resting for a moment, he gathered himself for a final effort then pushed off from the rocks to stumble forward.
He staggered along the side of the ship until he arrived at the door. Traveller opened it, fell in, and then collapsed on the floor. Pulling himself into the ship, he closed the door and passed out.

It wasn't until Saturday morning that Traveller woke up, thirsty and weak. He searched for the day pack before remembering that it had been left outside. Too weak to stand, Traveller crawled to the synthesizer. Using the opening to pull himself up along the wall, he stood. "Computer, a glass of Blast," he ordered. A glass came down then filled with liquid. Several small swallows relieved the dryness.
It took all of his resolve to remain standing long enough to finish the drink. Placing the glass back, he said, "Water." The synthesizer whirred as clear liquid flowed. With glass in hand, he slid down the wall to sit and drink. Feeling slightly better with his body re-hydrated, Traveller fell over on his side and slept.

That afternoon Traveller awoke with a burning fever. His hand throbbed as well as the back of his head. Both were swollen with hot molten burning. He slid up the wall for more blast, another cup of water. The liquids brought no relief. Leaving the wall, the alien wobbled toward the cargo hold in an attempt to find the medical kit. His feet caught causing him to fall in a sprawl across the floor. Knowing that treating the wounds in time was crucial for survival, Traveller managed to get to his knees. The room spun, his stomach churned. He lost consciousness yet again collapsing on the floor drenched in sweat.


Chapter 22- Connected to a Benwarian

It was her last class of the week on Friday afternoon. Lori listened intently as Dr. Saraff discussed the social stratification of societies. According to him, every society in the world had segments of the population divided by wealth and power. He compared a country's social organization to the layers found in sedimentary rock. Those in control constituted the top layers while the poor and disenfranchised made up the bottom layers. In some nations the social classes were rigid with little upward mobility. According to Dr. Saraff, "If you are born an untouchable in India, you remain an untouchable. A rigid caste system deems them to be undesirables. The upper castes feel that touching someone in the lowest class is defiling. The social classes in India are determined by heredity. The poor remain poor while the rich inherit positions of power."
Dr. Saraff continued his explanation, "Even Americans live in a highly stratified society. There are generational memberships in the socioeconomic classes. The lower classes tend to remain poor while those in the upper classes exert undue influence over governmental and economic affairs. Even though the United States professes that it is a meritocracy, there is very little shifting from one class to another.
"However, I will say that some fluidity does exist in our society. Through education, hard work, or sometimes even luck, citizens in America can move upward. This is what we all know as the American Dream. The thought that one can move up in the hierarchy or become wealthy keeps people working and happy. Compared to other nations, our citizens have a great deal of upward mobility."
Lori was taking notes. She had just finished writing the word mobility when a sharp biting sensation slammed into the back of her head. She actually fell face first onto her notebook.
"Are you okay?" the professor asked.
She grabbed at the stabbing pain, sure she was bleeding since a hot sticky feeling ran down her back. Lori lifted her head, "I'm okay. It's just a sharp pain. I'm sure it will go away."
"As I was explaining, several societies have much more rigid social boundaries than the United States. For instance, Britain still retains vestiges of a noble class. People with pedigrees have a hand up on those in the working classes."
Lori screamed, dropped her pencil, and clutched her right wrist. She was postive that a powerful animal had just raked its claws deep into her lower arm. The excrutiating pain caused her to hold her hand against her chest.
"Miss? What's the matter?" asked the concerned professor.
"My wrist hurts," she said as an image of Traveller bleeding in the snow entered her mind. "I'm sorry." Lori grabbed her books despite the pain and exited the classroom running. In the hallway, she stopped to close her eyes. A vision of Traveller in a blue-shredded coat surrounded by blood-covered snow became almost tangible in her mind. She gasped, her heart rated spiked.

***

Jesse and Tim had corralled Bill into playing a game of three-on-three basketball with Willy's team. Willy had bugged Jesse for two weeks until he had finally agreed to the rematch. Willy and his friends still smarted from their loss in the finals of the tournament.
They met at four o’clock knowing the gym would be vacant on a Friday afternoon. “Man where’s dat Russian? Ain’t no way you all’s goin’ ta beat us without him,” Willy stated while the six players were dressing down in the locker rooms.
“Shoot Willy, we don’t need him. I taught him everything he knows about basketball,” countered Jesse.
“He all didn’t have dat many skills, he just have raw talent. That guy just wasn’t right, man. I swear he be all blue,” said one of the other players on Willy’s team.
“Dat’s right. I never see nobody jump like he did. He could fly,” said Willy.
“Well he might’ve been able to fly, man, but I can shoot,” Jesse bragged as he slammed his locker shut.
The game started with Jesse getting the ball at half court. He drove his man to the basket then pulled up at the foul line to shoot. The ball didn’t touch the cylinder, a loud swish sounded as his shot sailed true. “Two points,” Jesse said raising his arms.
It was the last basket his team would score for the next ten minutes. Willy’s team tightened their defense smothering Jesse, Bill, and Tim with their athleticism.The score of ten to two left the three of them wishing Traveller would magically appear.
Bill and Tim started setting outside screens with Jesse shooting the ball whenever a space opened up. He scored two more baskets countering the two scored by Willy’s team. The air was just escaping from Jesse’s confidence when a vision of Traveller lying bloody on white snow flashed in his mind. He stopped, giving up his dribble. The ball was snatched and thrown to Willy for a slam dunk.
“Come on Jesse. Get with the program!” shouted Bill.
Tim also stopped playing. He stood transfixed as he held the back of his head. “Dang that hurts,” he said holding both arms across the back of his head.
The game stopped. “What’s the matter with you two?” Bill asked.
Jesse walked over to Tim. “Are you seeing what I am?” he asked.
“Yeah, Traveller’s in trouble. He’s been mauled by something,” Tim replied.
“Let’s finish this game and go find Lori,” Jesse said. He caught the ball at half court then dribbled forward before attempting a pass to Bill. Intentionally off target, it sailed into Willy’s hands who pivoted, drove to the basket, and layed it up for two points.
“Man, I knew you honkies couldn’t beat us!” Willy exalted. “You all ain’t nothing without your Russian ringer.”
“That’s right, Willy. Good game, we gotta go,” said Jesse. “Come on Tim, we gotta find Lori.”
“What’s the matter? You guys need any help?” asked Willy noticing the stricken look at Jesse face. He too could feel pain on the back of his head and wrist.
“Our Russian friend is hurt,” said Jesse. “We’re going to go find him.”
Willy wasn’t sure why, but the news upset him. “I wanna help. I like him.”
“We’ll find out what’s going on and call you,” said Tim.
“Make sure you do. I wanna help,” Willy repeated. Willy was worried.
When Tim and Jesse piled into the VW, Tim asked, “You’re really not going to take Willy with us, are you?”
“Why not? Did you see the look on his face? He’s as worried as we are. The more people we have looking for Travis, the more likely we are to find him. He’s fevered which means his wounds are infected, so the sooner we find him the better his chances of surviving are,” Jesse replied.
“I know, I can feel the fever too. It’s just that the fewer people who know that Traveller’s an alien, the better.”
“You’re right, but I trust Willy. We’re tight man. I’m helping with his homework.”
“Lori’s not going to like it,” Tim said.
“That’s why we’re not going to tell her. You drop me off at her house, go get your stuff, pick up Willy, and meet me there.”

An hour later, Tim and Willy pulled up in the alley parking lot at Lori’s. She was helping Jesse load the van with sleeping bags, food and water.
When she spotted Willy, she stopped with a cooler in both hands, “What’s going on? Why is he here?”
“Jesse?” Tim said.
“Willy wants to help. He’s my friend,” Jesse said.
Lori exploded, “Wants to help? Last time I saw him, he wanted to beat the shit out of you.”
“He was just mad about losing the game.”
“Damn it, Jesse. We have to keep this thing quiet. Do you want Traveller to be locked up and experimented on?”
“Listen Sis, Willy’s good people. Look at him; he’s as worried as we are.”
Willy had been standing passively with his hands in his pockets. Now he chimed in, “Don’t even know why I be feeling the way I do, but I see a brother lying in the snow with blood all around him. He’s on fire, burning up with infection. If I don’t go with you guys, I go by myself. Travis needs me, man.”
“You don’t even know him, Willy,” said Lori.
“Don’t understand it, just know that it is,” Willy replied.
“Everything you find out has to be a secret,” Lori said.
“Not a narc, man. Don’t rat on my friends.”
“We’re wasting time jawing,” said Jesse. “Let’s go find our friend. Anybody know where Ward’s store is?”
“Just go straight past the Pomerelle turn-off and drive to the stop sign,” Tim instructed.
“Trust your vision. Follow it,” said Willy.

They reached Ward’s at nine o’clock that evening. The store windows looked out at the night with benign indifference. Tim pulled his Volkswagen up to stop behind Lori’s van. “Let’s go find out if the owners know anything,” he said.
A dark haired women dressed in a flannel shirt got up from watching T.V. when they entered the store. “You guys are out late. What can I do for ya?” she asked.
“We’re looking for our friend,” said Lori.
“I haven’t seen anyone tonight. What’s he look like?”
“He’s about six foot two with intense blue eyes. Once you see him you’ll never forget him,” said Lori.
“My husband talked about someone showing up a few days ago. Just appeared outta nowhere. John said his eyes were diamond blue,” the lady replied.
“Did he say where he was going?”
“I guess the feller was real interested in our pictures of mountain lions. Wanted to know where we took ‘em. John told him Jim Sage Mountain.”
“Dat’s it! He be there,” said Willy. “How we get there?”
“Just go to the stop sign and turn left. Go a few miles east and you’ll see a sign,” the lady said.
Back outside, Jesse said, “We’ll go find the turn off and find a place to camp, get up first thing in the morning and start searching.”
They drove east until Jesse spotted the brown Forest Service sign that said ‘Jim Sage Mountain’, “Turn here,” he told Lori. She turned right. The road bisected someone’s yard. Their lights reflected off of the corral poles on the left. The house on the right had a solitary light on. Three dogs ran along side of them barking as they crept through the yard. Three hundred yards farther, they crossed a bridge with a sign that said ‘Cassia Creek’. The rough rocky road jounced the van and rattled their teeth.
“Slow down a little bit. We don’t need a hole in the oil pan,” Jesse told Lori.
The road jogged back to the west. After a few miles of bouncing, they came to a grassy area with several Russian olive trees. “This looks like as good a place as any to camp,” Jesse said.
Lori parked the van on a flat part of the pasture. The grass had been cropped short by cattle. Tim pulled up along side of them. He pitched a tent while Lori and Jesse made beds in the van. The four of them, worn out by a long day, crawled in their sleeping bags and searched for the sandman.

Chapter 23 - First Aide for the Alien

Jesse got up before daylight to start a fire. Once it was blazing, he awakened his friends. Light started creeping into the night as they stood warming themselves against the flames.
“Anybody else bring a gun?” asked Jesse patting the .357 holstered on his side.
“I brought my deer rifle,” said Tim. “Do think I should carry it?”
“Man, you white boys be shootin’ up the countryside. Tell me which way you goin’ so I can go the other way,” said Willy. “Damn honkies be blowin’ my head off.”
“I’m not gonna get mauled by a cougar,” said Jesse. “And yes you should carry your rifle.” He looked at Tim.
“I brought whistles for everyone but Willy. I didn’t know he was coming,” said Lori. “If anyone finds Traveller blow on your whistle and let everyone know where you’re at.”
“You take my whistle, Willy. I’ll shoot in the air, if I find him,” said Jesse.
“You all be shootin’ in the air dat ole bullet fall on my head, fool.”
“Okay, I’ll shoot into a tree or something.”
The group moved out toward Jim Sage. They could see the steep slope leading up to the cliffed ridge, the trees and jutting rocks looming as haunting black forms against the light of dawn. “He ‘bout halfway up,” said Willy. “Remember close yo’ eyes, trust the vision.”
“Let’s pair up,” said Lori. “I’ll stay near Tim, Jesse goes with Willy.”
“Good idea. I don’t want anyone to get attacked by a cougar,” said Jesse.
“Shoot, I be more worried about gettin’ shot,” said Willy.
“No one’s going to shoot you Willy,” Jesse reassured.

***

Willy closed his eyes occasionally as he climbed Jim Sage. The bottom of the mountain, dotted with sagebrush and junipers, became steeper giving way to a shaled area with a game trail that cut across it diagonally. He followed the path, panting from the steep climb. Lori was walking to the left of him, Jesse to his right. Dis mountain climbing for fools he thought, his legs burning from the exertion. When he got to the top of the shale, he sat down and rested. His wrist hurt, the back of his head felt like someone had taken a bite out of it. The longer he sat, the more the pain increased. He got up and started walking again. The pain diminished. Ain’t sittin down agin, pain get too bad.
The junipers gave way to pine trees, the mountain became ever steeper, but Willy propelled himself up the mountain frantically. A vision of Travis writhing on a strange floor haunted him now, becoming ever more vivid with each step.
Willy panted with exhaustion. Just when he thought about quitting, the slope gave way to a plateau with several jutting rocks formations. He veered left, seeing a long reddish-brown rock slanting to the east. The vision of an oblong spaceship imprinted itself on his mind. He be under that rock!
With his second wind, Willy hurried through the trees until he came to the outcropping. Protected underneath the rock formation, he found Travis’s spaceship. “Travis, you in there?” he called as he slid his hands along the surface of the ship, a ship the same color as the rocks around it. There was no answer.
Willy put his ear on the side of the ship to listen. It was then that he heard the snapping of branches as something approached from the south. Afraid that it was a mountain lion, he moved to the other side of the ship to wait, peering over the top of it.
A movement in the trees caused fear to well up inside of him. Man, now I know why Jesse be carrying a gun. He was just about to run when Lori emerged through the pines. “Jeeze girl, you be all scaring me.”
“Is he in there? I heard you say something,” Lori said ignoring his question.
“He in there alright. Probably unconscious.”
“Traveller! Traveller!” she yelled. “It’s me, Lori. You’ve got to wake up.”
“Here come Jesse and Tim,” said Willy as they emerged into the clearing.
“I thought we were supposed to whistle,” said Jesse.
“No need to man. We all knew where to go. He be signaling us or something,” Willy replied. “We got to wake him up long enough to let us in. Everyone put dey hand on the ship. Summon him through ya mind.”
The three of them did as Willy asked. “Gently rock the ship now,” he said. They moved the craft back and forth, but still there was no response.
“Traveller you have to wake up,” Lori pleaded. “Please, wake up and let us in.”
Jesse had his ear to the side of the ship. “I think I heard something,” he said. A moment later the door whirred up.
Lori jumped into the ship as the door descended. Her beloved friend was laid out near the cargo hold with his eyes closed. His arm was swollen with infection, the tourniquet still bound around his biceps.
Traveller opened an eye, “Lori, I’m so sorry. I’ve ruined the beautiful coat you gave me.”
Lori sat down beside him cradling his head in her lap. “Oh Traveller, that coat can go to hell,” she said with tears in her eyes. “We need to treat your wounds. How long have you been here?”
“Couple of days. I dreamt about you guys,” Traveller said looking at Willy, Tim, and Jesse. “I need some water.”
“Yeah, I know. We all could feel it man,” said Willy watching as Jesse handed Lori his canteen. She tilted Travis’s head back to let him swallow several gulps of water.
“Let’s get some water boiling. We need to wash his wounds before I sew them up,” said Lori. “Stay with us Traveller. Do you have any medical supplies on board?”
“There is a black box in the cargo hold. Be careful, there’s a rattle snake back there,” Traveller whispered.
“Man what he talkin’ ‘bout? I be waitin’ outside. Tell me when it be safe to come back in. I don’ wanna see no sewin’ on a man’s flesh anyways,” Willy said before exiting the ship.
“Ship, one liter of water, sterlization temperature,” Traveller said, his voice stronger now.
“It will be in the synthesizer,” he said to Tim.
While Tim retrieved the water, Jesse moved carefully into the cargo hold. The medical kit sat on a shelf on the right wall. He sat it down by Traveller then pushed an open door icon and the lid popped up. Nothing inside looked familiar.
“I need some curpatho. It’s a white powder. It’s probably in a silver metal tubing marked with a plus symbol,” Traveller instructed.
After a minute of rumbling, Jesse found the marked tube. Strange symbols were etched underneath. “This it?” he asked holding it up so Traveller could see the markings.
“Yes, mix two pinches of it in some water and give to me.”
While Jesse prepared the medicine, Lori mixed the hot water from the synthesizer with cold from the water bottle. She squirted some camp soap in the warm water before gently cleaning the alien’s injured arm. When she finished, Lori took some iodine from her own first aid kit to apply it on the gashes with a cotton swab. Traveller grimaced with the sting of the iodine. After that, she sterilized a needle and some thin fishing line with hot water placing them in a small tray full of alcohol. Six small fishing sinkers were also placed in the alcohol.
“This is going to hurt,” she said as she threaded the needle. Instead of tying the line off, Lori joined the two strands together by placing them in the mouth of the sinker then biting it shut. Tim held Traveller’s hand.
Lori pushed the needle into the skin on one side of the gash pulling the line until the sinker caught then she pushed the needle into the skin on the other side pulling the wound togther. Pain etched Tim’s face as Traveller squeezed his hand to keep from crying out. Lori criss-crossed back and forth with the needle until the gash was closed. At the end of the wound, she used another sinker to meld the line together and keep it from pulling out.
“How are you doing?” she asked when she finished with the first gash.
“I want to go home now,” Traveller joked. He released Tim’s hand during the temporary respite from the pain.
“One down, two to go,” she said. “When I’m through, we’ll let you drink the medicine Jesse prepared.”
Lori waited until Tim held Traveller’s hand to start sewing again. It took over a half hour to sew the second and third wounds shut. Her forehead was dotted with beads of sweat when she finished. “Untie the tourniquet” she said to Tim who then untied the blue bloody ribbons of coat.
Lori lay back exhausted and said, “He’s all yours Jesse.”
Jesse held Traveller’s upper body in his lap. “Here you go, bro,” he said patiently allowing his friend to sip the curpatho-laced water.
It took several minutes for Traveller to drink the medicine. When he finished, he laid back, closed his eyes, and shut down.
“I hope you didn’t kill him,” said Lori rousing herself.
Tim held Travis’s good wrist, “There’s a faint pulse.” he said.
Lori turned her attention to the head injuries. She removed the makeshift bandage and then cleaned them with soap and water before dousing the bite marks with iodine. She dressed the wounds with gauze, wrapping it around his head before applying surgical tape to keep the bandage in place.
Willy stood in the doorway watching as she finished up. “My turn,” he said. “You guys get some fresh air.”
Willy sat down by Travis. He put a hand on the alien’s shoulder then softly hummed in a deep baritone voice. I sure hope he don’t die. If he make it through this, I’m goin’ to start studying. I been slackin’ off for too long. Time to start takin’ things serious. I get back on the team, I gonna play like I know how.

Three hours passed before Willy decided he needed a break. Lori had looked in on him several times, but Traveller hadn’t moved at all. The late afternoon sun brought a chill air as it slowly drifted downward.
Lori appeared in the doorway. “Take a break Willy. Tim and Jesse have a fire going.
Willy went outside. He sat down on the log where Tim and Jesse were warming themselves by the brightly burning red flames. “How is he?” asked Jesse.
“He be still as a dead man. Never moved all da time I hold ‘im.”
“We probably need to get him to hospital. He’s lost a lot of blood,” Tim suggested.
“I wonder if he have the same kind a blood we got,” Willy said.
“It sure looked like it is as red as ours,” said Jesse.
“Probably ain’t got none left, way he bled all ova’ the snow. Where we all goin’ to stay tonight?” asked Willy.
“In the spaceship. It’s cool,” said Jesse. “Lori and I spent the night in it once.”
“Man I ain’t sleepin’ no where with no rattle snake, be all crawlin’ in da bed wid me. I take my chances out here.”
“You’ll freeze to death. That snake won’t bother you. He’s sluggish in the cold weather,” Jesse said.

Chapter 24 - Down from the Mountain

Willy did spend the night in the spaceship. The three men covered themselves with the Benwarian tarps. Each of them took turns keeping a hand on Traveller, watching him so that Lori could sleep. She slept with her down coat over the top of her using an arm for a pillow. Willy slept with one eye opened.
Monday morning saw no change in Traveller’s condition. He lay comatose on the floor of the ship. His pulse remained weak. Curiously, the pulse on his injured side seemed stronger than the one on his right.
“We’ve got to get him to a doctor. I have no idea what to for him now,” said Lori.
“Too bad ya’ll don’t know how to fly dis thing. We could just cruise up to da hospital like it ain’t nobody’s bidness.”
“Yeah, then they’ll take our friend to Roswell or somewhere like that and experiment on him,” said Tim.
“We’ll have to make a stretcher. There’s four of us, we can all hold a corner. It’ll take a while, but we’ll get him down,” said Jesse.
“And then what?” asked Tim.
“We’ll take him to our place. We can sneak him into the hired hand’s house. No one staying there right now. If we can get him there, I’ll call Dr. Graham, have him come out,” Lori suggested.
“What about your parents?” asked Tim.
“They’re out of town,” said Jesse. “Are you sure about telling Dr. Graham?”
“Do you have a better idea? We have no choice, beside he’s cool. I worked for him filing medical records when I was going to high school,” Lori said. “He’s one of the nicest men I know.”
“Oh really? Are you going to marry him?” Jesse teased.
Lori slugged him on the shoulder. “He’s married, you moron. I worked with his oldest daughter.”
“Hey clowns, we best be gettin’ a stretcher made so we can get goin’,” Willy suggested.
Tim had already laid out one of the tarps. The material was made of metal mesh fibers. He was having difficulty poking holes in it with his pocket knife.
“Use the lazer,” suggested Jesse.
Tim rummaged through the cargo hold until he found it being careful not to disturb the rattle snake. “Let’s take the tarp outside,” he said looking at Jesse. “Why don’t you and Willy find a couple of branches we can use for braces?”
Tim started lazering the holes while Jesse and Willy searched for suitable pieces of wood to make the stretcher. They walked around the area together for several minutes. The branches they found strewn around were gnarled, too crooked to make a brace. Willy did find one straight branch, but it was old and brittle. When Jesse tested it for strength by holding it in one hand and putting pressure on it with his foot, it broke.
“Man, I find de perfect brace, you be all breaking it. Fool,” Willy complained.
“Yeah, right. We’d be carrying Travis down the mountain; it’d break and dump him on the ground. His wounds would re-open then he’d bleed to death.”
“Then what we all goin’ to do?”
“There’s some pines farther up the mountain, let’s try there.”
The two men moved up the slope to the pine trees. They searched around but again the branches were too small, crooked, or old and brittle. Just when they were about to give up, Jesse spotted two pine saplings standing straight and tall. “There’s what we need. The wood will be green and sturdy. They’re just the right diameter. Here hold my pistol,” he said giving it to Willy.
He removed the hatchet from his belt then started chopping at the base of the first tree. Chips flew as he chopped up and then down carving out a mouth on the gray bark. About half way through, Jesse chopped on the other side of the cut until the sapling fell. He trimmed the branches off before chopping it into the right length for a brace.
“One down, one to go,” Jesse said. “You look nervous.”
“Man, I be ‘fraid dis gun gonna go off. I be all shootin’ somethin’.”
Jesse laughed. “It can’t go off unless you cock it and pulled the trigger.”
“You sure ‘bout that?”
“Yeah, watch.” Jesse set his hatchet down, took the pistol, and cocked it. “See the hammer has to be back,” he said thumming the hammer forward before handing it back to Willy.
Willy handed the gun back to Jesse. “Here, I’ll chop the next one. You stand guard. Don’t want no cougar maulin’ me.” He grabbed the hatchet from the rock then attacked the other sapling. Chips flew in great chunks as the bigger, stronger man swung in broad strokes. He chopped in a circle around the tree until it fell then he trimmed it to length and removed the branches.

When Jesse and Willy got back to the outcropping, Willy peeked his head in the ship’s door. “How he be doin’?” he asked Lori.
“No change. He hasn’t moved since we gave him that medicine,” she replied.
“Shoot, you sure he gonna be aright?”
“No, we need to get him down the hill.”
While Willy and Jesse were gone, Tim had finished putting holes in the Benwarian mesh. The men placed the saplings on either side of the rectangular length of tarp, lashing it to the poles with a titanium rope Jesse had found in the cargo hold.
They placed the stretcher next to Traveller, and then all four of them lifted him onto it. He remained unresponsive, comatose. It shocked all of them to see someone once so vibrant limp and lifeless. They took another piece of tarp that Tim had cut and measured and wrapped it around the cot then tied Traveler in place with strips of nylon torn from his shredded coat.
Once they had him outside and on the ground, Jesse used Traveller’s remote to close the door. “Sure you can handle this?” he asked Lori as she knelt by Traveller checking his pulse.
“You turd Jesse. I’ll be alright,” she replied.
“Okay then, away we go,” Jesse said. They each grabbed a corner hoisting the cot up. Tim and Jesse took the front with Willy and Lori holding the back of the makeshift gurney.
They slid on the melting snow as they left the outcropping. Sliding down the slope, everyone tried to keep their balance. Willy fell causing the cot to tip, but Lori grabbed his pole preventing it from hitting the ground. She held it until he recovered. When he grabbed the pole again, she noticed the scars on the back of his hands. They were round and deep, burn marks. She didn’t say anything even though her curiosity prompted her to ask about them, she didn’t want to embarrass him.
The going was rough and strenuous as they made their way through the trees, oftentimes having to wade in the snow until they got to the lower reaches of the mountain. The snow gave way to mud making the descent more difficult.
Willy was the first to call for a break, he could see Lori flagging. “Man dis be hard,” he said wiping the sweat from his brow. Lori looked exhausted, her flushed face dripped with sweat, she breathed heavily. They sat Traveller down in the shade of a juniper where the snow hadn’t melted.
“You gonna make it Sis?” Jesse asked.
“I’ll make it if it kills me,” she said with determination.
“Let me take a turn by my lonesome. I be feelin’ da need for some exercise,” Willy said. “We get down da mountain a ways, you can spell me.”
“Here you can carry my rifle,” Tim suggested.
Lori took it and slung it over her shoulder. “Thanks Willy,” she said gratefully.
They descended rapidly until they reached the part of the mountain covered with shale. “Man, my arms are numb,” Jesse complained. “We better rest for a while.”
“Good idea. I done lost da feelin’ in my arms long time ago,” Willy confessed.
Lori passed her canteen around. The water soothed and refreshed the men. She handed each of them a synthowafer. They crunched the food and washed it down with more water. The wafers invigorated the stretcher bearers.
“Dat ole alien best be makin’ it. I don’t ever wanna put dis much effort into someone who up and die on me,” said Willy.
Lori checked Traveller’s pulse. “He’s still alive. It worries me that he hasn’t so much as moved for over twenty hours.”
“Maybe his body’s putting all its effort into fighting the infection,” Tim suggested.
“Maybe he fakin’ it to get a free ride down de mountain,” Willy joked.
“We ready? I’ll take a corner,” Lori said.
They resumed their journey skirting the top of the shale until they found the game trail. Once on it, they wound their way down to the lower reaches of the mountain where the slope lessened into a more gradual decline. They were exhausted, muscles burned and cramped.
“I be for settin’ dis lead alien down,” Willy suggested.
“Amen,” said Tim.
“Far out,” said Jesse.
Exhausted, Lori didn’t say anything. They sat him down in a grassy spot. She took his pulse on the side of the neck. “Faint but there,” she replied to their questioning looks. She dispersed the remaining synthowafers before passing around her canteen. The four of them ate the crackers, drank some water, and then laid back on the grass to rest.
The deep exhaustion that plagued them extended their break to over thirty minutes. Jesse finally became impatient and suggested that they move on.
“Man my muscles already be sore,” complained Willy. His legs felt weak despite the effects of the synthowafers.
When Lori got up, she promptly sat down again, grimacing. With her calves cramped in knots, she massaged them as the men waited. “What time is it?” she asked.
Tim checked his watch. “Twelve-thirty. I just missed all my classes.”
“Is there a down side to that?” asked Jesse.
“Yeah,” Willy said. “I be all missin’ a good nap sittin’ in my math class.”
“I didn’t know you attended classes,” joked Jesse.
“Wonsa week whetha I need to or not. Shoot, someone’s gotta check the chicks out.”
“You guys are stupid. No wonder you’re on probation,” said Lori directing her remarks to Jesse and Willy.
Willy laughed. “Man girl, I resemble dat remark, but somebody got ta make you book heads look good.”
Lori smiled. “You’re all right Willy. I hear you and Jesse have been studying together. Nothing like the blind leading the blind.”
“You ‘bout got ‘doze cramps rubbed out? I think you might be givin’ me one, in da neck,” Willy rubbed the back of his neck as he and the other two males laughed.
“Yeah Sis, we study every day. I study shooting the basketball, Willy studies rebounding and dunking it. I think we’re both getting A’s,” Jesse said reaching down for his corner of the cot.
“You sure can shoot dat ball good for a whitey,” Willy laughed grabbing both ends of the back of the stretcher. He looked at Lori, “You take a break. Let ‘dose cramps work ‘deselves out.”
Lori noticed the burn marks again as he grabbed the poles. “Thanks,” she said.
“Last push for the van,” Jesse said.
As the end of their ordeal neared, everyone stepped lighter. With renewed energy, they came off the mountain onto the flat part of the journey.
Lori took her end of the stretcher. Willy glanced at her gratefully.
“I guess you not such a pain afder all,” he said.
It took over forty-five minutes of non-stop walking to get to the van.
“Get him in the back. We can rest on the way down,” said Lori shaking the kinks out of her arms. She opened the doors before Tim and Jesse placed their end on the tailgate and Willy shoved the stretcher inside. “I ride with him,” he said crawling in alongside Traveller.
Lori headed the van toward Cassia Creek with Tim and Jesse following her in the VW. Once underway, she glanced back. Willy was watching Traveller with concern. His sincerity prompted her into a confession, “You know Willy, I didn’t want you to be involved in this. I was wrong; we never would have got him down the mountain without you.”
“Dat’s okay. Lotsa people don’t trust me ‘til they get ta know me, ‘specially honkies.”
“Why did you want to help? Is it better than going to school?”
“I neva’ bin very good at school. No one eva’ make me study. My mom, she work all the time. My ole’ man just come home long enuff to eat and take her money, rough me up a little bit. So yeah, dis be better than school, but that’s not the reason.”
“Then why Willy?”
“’Cause Travis shook my hand when we be playing your brother’s team. I didn’t think about it at the time, but that night when I be lying in bed, I remembered the sensation, it was like everything gonna be alright. For da first time in my life, I feel like I gonna be alright.”
“He has that effect on people, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah man. I never had much growin’ up. Spent most of my time playin’ basketball. But I learned to play, it kept me in school. If it wasn’t for dat I be in prison or some such. Never had anyone to look after me but myself. My old lady try, but she be workin’ all the time.”
Despite herself, Lori had to ask, “What happened to your hands?”
A long silence ensued. Finally, Willy answered, “Ole man come home one night, I be crying, only five years old. He keep telling’ me to shut up, I keep crying, hungry, wantin’ my mom. Finally, he grab my hand, hold a burning cigarette on it. He say I give you sumpin’ to cry ‘bout. Man, it hurt so damn bad, I cry even louder.
“‘I tole you to shut up’, he screamed, grabbed de other hand, burn it too. I keep cryin’ so finally he shove me down, kick me in the gut, and leave. He slam the door so hard, it break a window. She never seen him since. Good thing too, my old lady keep a gun in de house after dat. She say if he come back, she kill him. She practiced holdin’ dat gun every day case he did come back. She take all de bullets out, practice pulling da trigger, too. She’da shot him in his sleep, he ever come back. I be afraid of guns ever since.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
“Once a ‘bout a year ago, I be home for Christmas. Me and a frien’ went to Charlie’s for a drink. There he be, looked right at me, never said a word. I didn’t say anythin’ either, don’t think he even recognized me.”
“Didn’t you want to hit him or something?”
“Naw man, he be old, drunker’n hell. What’s the use? We just turn around an’ left.”
Lori came to the highway. She turned left with a new perspective on Willy as they accelerated down the highway.

An hour later, she turned right at the Donnard Bridge and followed the road along the Snake River until it made an abrupt L turn back to the east. She followed it past the Turner house then up a small hill. She passed her parent’s house, a small two-bedroom home painted white with red trim, before turning right and parking to the side of the small house designated for the hired hand. With its flat roof and greenish-blue paint, it looked small, even quaint.
Tim turned in at the home place so Jesse could get the key. The dirt road curved in front of the milk barn then back around to the side of the other house. Tim drove the VW around to where Lori waited and handed her the key.
“You get the door open, we’ll bring him in. The bed should be ready. I even made it the last time I was here,” Jesse said.
“Man, you all live in da middle of nowhere. Only neighbor be the house ‘cross da street.”
“Isn’t it great? It used to keep Jesse out of trouble till he learned how to drive,” said Lori.
“Man Sis, I got in plenty of trouble. Remember when I accidentally shot that milk cow?’’ he said as they carried Traveller into the bunk house. “You’d better go fetch the doctor. I’ll be surprised if he comes.”
“He’ll come. I’ll tell him it’s you that’s hurt.”

Chapter 25 - Mixed Blood

Lori did try to convince Dr. Graham to make a house call. She knocked on the door of his white brick house. It was five-thirty in the afternoon, he’d just returned from the office. His wife answered the door. “Hi Lori,” she asked. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to talk to Dr. G. for a minute. Is he available?”
“Just a minute, I’ll get him.”
Surprise filled Dr. Graham’s face when he saw Lori. “Hi Lori. Why aren’t you in school?”
“Hi Dr. G. We went hiking. Jesse’s hurt himself. I was wondering if you could come and take a look at him.”
“Why didn’t you take him to the hospital? Or better yet, call an ambulance? What’s going on?” Dr. Graham asked.
“We, I was afraid to move him.”
“What? Why didn’t you call an ambulance? Do you want me to call one for you? Where’s he at?”
Lori thought quickly. “Doctor please, we need your help. Our friend is a Russian illegal. If we take him to the hospital, he’ll be deported. The KGB is looking for him. If he gets sent back to Russia, he could be killed.” I hate lying to Dr. G. she thought.
“An illegal alien huh? How did you get mixed up with him?”
“Yes, he’s an alien. He’s our friend Doctor. We met him when we were hang gliding at Pomerelle,” Lori said before her voice changed into a plaintive tone. “Please, please Doctor, you have to help us.”
Dr. Graham rolled his eyes. He’d never heard Lori plead for anything. “Okay, let me go to the office and get my medical bag. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Thank you Doctor. He’s in the bunkhouse. Please hurry.”

Forty-five minutes later Dr. Graham knocked on the bunkhouse door. Lori answered. “Hi Doc,” she said.
“Where is he?” he asked nodding at Jesse and the other two guys sitting on the couch.
“Back here,” she said motioning for him to follow her.
They went into the back bedroom. Traveller was lying comatose underneath the several patchwork quilts on Jesse’s bed. When Dr. Graham saw the bluish alien, his eyes widened. “He’s almost blue. How long has he been unconscious?”
“Since yesterday. We gave him some medicine from the spaceship. . . I mean we gave him some water and he’s been like this every since.”
“What happened to him?” Dr. Graham asked examining the bandages. “Looks like you did a good job of dressing his wounds.”
Dr. Graham took his stethoscope out, gently pulled the covers back, and then listened to Traveller’s heart. A puzzled expression filled his face as he moved the scope from one side of Traveller’s chest to the other. He listened for several minutes before letting the stethoscope dangle from his neck. Next, he felt for a pulse on either side of the jugular. When he finished, Dr. Graham pulled the skin of Traveller’s upper arms. On the injured side the skin snapped back immediately. On his good arm the skin took a moment to slowly move back into place.
“I’ve never seen anyone like him. He’s dehydrated on one side and not the other. I can’t tell for sure, but it’s like he has two hearts. The one on the injured side is beating faster than the one on the right. It’s almost like one side of his body has shut down to allow the other side of his body to fight the infection. He’s obviously lost a lot of blood. Those look like bite marks,” he said after he removed the bandages on Traveller’s head.
“He was mauled by a mountain lion,” Lori said.
“He’s going to need to go to the hospital. I don’t think he’ll survive without a blood transfusion,” Dr. Graham diagnosed.
“Damn it!” Lori exclaimed, her heart racing.
“It’ll be okay. The infection seems to have been checked somehow, there’s no gangrene. What’s the matter? You’re worried that he’s illegal. I can register him under an assumed name. I’m on the board of directors, no one will question me.”
Lori didn’t know what to say so she didn’t say anything.
“We’ll get his blood type identified and go from there. I’m going to give him a shot of antibiotic to help with the infection. Why don’t you call an ambulance?” he asked Lori.

Traveller Orgen was checked into the hospital as Travis Orlovsky. Dr. Graham filled out the paper work personally. He even put himself down as the patient’s legal guardian, took responsibility for the bill.
He had instructed his nurse to take a blood sample from the “alien” for analysis. She spent over twenty minutes trying to find a vein on his right arm. No matter how much she tightened the elastic band on his bicep, nothing surfaced.
“I give up Doctor,” she said.
“First, try a smaller needle. Also, put the band on his left shin. Try taking blood from the veins in his leg when they appear.
“Which vein Doctor?”
“The biggest one with the most blood,” he replied with a smile.
The nurse followed his instructions. After several moments, she finally saw a vein to go fishing for. The nurse inserted the needle into the top of Traveller’s foot manipulating it around until she got the vein. Blood trickled slowly into the test tube for a few moments before it stopped with a little over a quarter of the tube filled. She left to have it analyzed.
“What happens if we can’t find a match?” asked Lori.
“I’m sure we’ll find a match. We have to. Mixing blood types causes an immunological reaction against the donor cells. It can kill the receiver or make them very ill. Before anyone knew what they were doing back in the seventeenth century, a doctor tried giving transfusions with calf blood. Needless to say, the persons receiving the transfusions died. It wasn’t until 1910 that blood typing made the process possible. So if we can’t find a type match, there will be no transfusion. That’s why we store blood.
Over the years, scientists have improved typing and storage methods. We have a blood bank right here in the hospital. It contains all but the rarest of blood types. I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Dr. Graham explained.

Just over an hour later the nurse came back to Traveller’s room where Dr. Graham was waiting with Lori. “A B negative,” she informed the doctor.
The nurse continued, “We don’t have anything stored here that’s compatible with that blood type. It’s too rare. I called Twin Falls and Pocatello; neither hospital can supply us with a match.”
“We’ll have to make do. Get on the intercom. Ask the staff if anyone has A B negative, A negative, or B negative blood,” the doctor instructed.
The nurse left. A minute later her voice came over the intercom asking for the bood types Dr. Graham listed. She came back in the room. “We’re out of luck,” she explained.
“I don’t think we have time to have some flown in,” said Dr. Graham. “Didn’t I see a black man with Jesse? Sometimes African Americans have rare blood types.”
“You mean Willy?” asked Lori.
“Is that his name? Nurse get me a blood sample from Willy.”

When the nurse asked Willy if she could draw blood, his eyes widened, “Man, I can’t stand de sight a blood. Ain’t no other way?”
“No. If you want to save your friend we need to hurry,” she replied.
When Willy nooded, she hustled him out of the waiting room and into the lab. He kept his eyes averted as she wrapped the rubber hose around his arm. When the highways of blood revealed themselves, the nurse inserted her needle “Finally veins I can find,” she said with satisfaction as she withdrew a healthy sample of burgundy blood.
Just as she replaced the needle with a cotton swab, Willy turned his head. When he saw the deep colored blood that filled the test tube, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fainted.
Dr. Graham had the nurse attend to the fallen hero while he placed two ccs of Willy’s blood in a test tube and then added two ccs of Traveler’s blood with it. He placed the tube in the serofuge. It mixed the blood together for a few minutes. When it stopped spinning, Dr. Graham examined the blood.
He looked at the nurse, “There’s no agglutination. The blood isn’t sticking together. I say we have a compatible donor. Good job Willy,” he said to the unconscious man on the bed.

When Willy came to, Jesse and Tim were standing over the examination bed. “Hey Willy guess what?” Jesse said. “While you were asleep, Dr. Graham found out your blood’s compatible with Travis’s. I told him to hurry and draw blood before you wake up and he did. You’ll be the first person in history to give an interplanetary transfusion.”
“Man dat ol’ Travis goin’ to be a super alien now. He be the best basketball player in the universe. Probly be better lookin’, too,” a little paler than before, Willy smiled,
“I just hope he survives,” said Jesse.
“Oh he be surviving alright. He be getting’ de best black blood they is,” Willy bragged. He tried to stand up, but the room spun violently. He lay back down.
“Man how much blood dey pull out of me?” he asked Jesse.
“Damn near a gallon. It was just enough to turn you white.”
“White? You lyin’ honky?”
“Every chance I get,” Jesse replied. He laughed with Willy and Tim joining in.

Dr. Graham was watching the last of the blood plasma drain into Traveller’s foot. Suddenly, his patient doubled over grabbing his midsection with both arms. The needle pulled out of his flesh to leave a bright red blood spot on the hospital’s white sheets.
Sweat beaded Traveller’s forehead; he felt hot, feverish. Dr. Graham looked at the nurse, “Uh oh, I think we’re having an allergic reaction,” he said deeply concerned. “Let’s administer five ccs of anticoagulant. He’s fevered. We’d better give him five ccs of antipyretic along with it, we need to get his temperature down.”
The nurse left the room to get the medicine. Dr Graham kept his hand on Traveller’s forehead. “Come on, you need the blood. Let your body accept it.”
Lori entered the room to overhear the doctor’s plea. She had left to get a drink of water. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“He’s having a reaction to the transfusion. It’s going to be touch and go from here on out. I’m sorry Lori, but we didn’t have any choice but to try. He’d lost way too much blood.”
“He’s going to make it isn’t he?”
“Not if his body rejects the blood. We’ll know in a few hours.”
Chapter 26 - Meeting Death
Traveller waited for his parents and Logis so he could ferry them across the Snake River. He was dressed in the blue ceremonial robe of the Sanctum Just. It pleased him to see the proud look on Fa Orgen’s face. “Hi father,” he said so happy to see Fa Orgen that he eagerly returned the embrace.
“Traveller, I’ve missed you,” his father said.
His mother’s eyes filled with tears as she stood waiting for her chance to touch her precious son. When he parted from his father, she moved into his arms now crying with joy. “Oh my sweet one, I thought I would die of pain when you left without warning,” she said.
They held each other for several moments before Logis cleared his throat behind them. Traveller let his mother pass onto the boat then held his hand out for Logis.
“You have gained a calmness that wasn’t there before,” Logis said as they shook. “You seem less determined to fight everything. Have you found that one has no choice but to follow the rhythms of life, otherwise one finds chaos?”
“I’m learning Fa Logis. I’m learning,” Traveller replied. He helped the Chosen One onto the boat humbled by the profound sadness that haunted the Benwarians leader’s eyes. The yoke of leadership is a heavy one he thought.
Traveller poled the flat wooden raft with a small hut in the middle of it out into the current. Once the water took the boat, he let it follow the flow to the other side of the river. Poling just enough to keep the boat from ending up too far downstream, he aimed for the dock on the far bank.
His aim was true; the current carried the boat until it glanced against the wooden dock. His Benwarian passengers jumped ashore while he kept the boat in place with the pole. Tim, Lori, Willy, and Jesse appeared out of nowhere and tethered it to the dock with the thick rope attached to a metal ring on the deck.
Once his passengers were safely ashore, his human friends untied the rope that kept the boat against the dock and pulled him upstream along the shore. When he was far enough up river to allow the boat to use the current to cross back, they let go. Jesse threw the rope onto the deck and the four of them jumped aboard. When he glanced behind for one last look at his family and Logis, they were gone. Their loss became heavy, painful.
Lori stood by his side as he guided the boat back across the Snake. Tears streamed from Traveller’s eyes. “I’ll never see them again,” he said.
Lori put her arm around his waist. “It’s okay dear one. We’re your family now.”

Once the boat was headed back, the sun became unbearably hot. Traveller shed the blue robe he was wearing. The heat intensified, searing every cell in his body.
The river turned turbulent with large waves rocking the raft. Lori wavered before she disappeared into the foaming mist of the water. He found himself alone again struggling mightily to guide the boat to safety. He tossed for days on the river with the sun beating down and the waves battering against his boat.
He fell to the deck unconscious. When he opened his eyes again, the raft had disappeared. Traveller found himself manacled to a dungeon wall. His arms and legs had turned to lead. His head weighed a thousand batars. It was impossible to move such weight. Trapped in his own body, he watched as a contingent of Lizerians approached swinging broad strokes with their heavy swords. Their leader rushed forward. With a mighty swing, his blade flashed. Traveller raised a leaden arm to parry the blow, pain shot through his wrist as the blade bit, blood spurted from the gash. The spurt transformed into a river of red draining his body of its remaining strength. His head fell to his chest. The Lizerians disappeared. He blanked out.
He found himself back on the raft, inside the shack. A long white insect with a thick proboscis landed on his right arm. It inserted its sharp needle of a nose into his flesh. Instead of drawing blood, Traveller could feel a cold substance enter his body. It took only a moment for the strange bug to leave. The liquid it had inserted slowly warmed and dissipated. After a while, the searing heat lessened. The strange liquid seemed to have chased the burning away. Night fell bringing darkness.
When light returned, the raft no longer sat on the Snake River. It floated on the ocean. He found himself strapped to its deck, unable to move as the insect returned. Again it injected him, this time with blood, blood that filled his body. The heaviness he had felt for so long left as it mingled with his own blood.
A woman stood over him. He knew it was his mother, and yet she was black. Her beaten, harried expression softened as she explained, “I sorry Willy. Don’t get paid till tomorrow. Den I buy sumpin’ to eat. You can make it till den.” She hugged him and left.
Traveller had never experienced hunger before. He wouldn’t have known what it was if his mother hadn’t mentioned food. Now he felt his stomach churn with emptiness. It growled its displeasure at being denied. As the day wore on, the hunger pains demanded satisfaction. “Mommy!” he heard himself cry out. “Mommy!” he cried. Once Traveller started crying, he couldn’t stop. The hunger prodded him on.
The door to the shack opened. An angry black man entered. He was lank with bloodshot eyes, poison on his breathe, stubble on his chin. He knew the man as his father, yet perceived the threat of violence. “Shut up for I gib ya some pin’ to cry ‘bout,” he said as he staggered forward with a cigarette in his mouth. Acrid, killing smoke filled the room. Death rode on the white vapor.
Traveller couldn’t quit crying, the demands of the hunger were too strong. “Please Daddy,” he sobbed. “I be hungry.”
“No ‘scuse ta cry. Don’t be a baby,” he said in drunken contempt.
Despite feeling his father’s anger demanding the satisfaction of a violent lashing out, he cried. He cried because he was hungry, he cried because he missed his mother, he cried because he was alone, he cried because it made him forget his hunger.
Then his father snapped. “I give ya sumpin’ ta cry about!” he yelled grabbing Traveller’s arm. He pulled the smoking, red-ended stick from his mouth then held it on the back of Traveller’s hand. The smell of burning flesh was nothing compared to the deep scarring, horrific pain. Traveller’s cries turned to screams of agony as the cigarette burned deep.
With no hint of humanity left, banished by the lust for alcohol, Traveller’s father screamed, “I tole ya ta shud up! Shud up! Shud up!” In that instant, Traveller saw the cruel, sadistic Lizerian that had cut him earlier. It grabbed his other hand, maddened into insanity when he tried to resist. This time the cigarette came down to be moved around and around in a torturous circle of pain. “I teach ya to shud up when I say!”
“Please Daddy, please,” Traveller sobbed. “I be good Daddy.”
“You be good? You be good for nothin’,” his father said with contempt before standing back and kicking Traveller in the stomach.
He took one last look at his son as he opened the door. Traveller saw the twisted, dark soul through the blurr of tears as the evil spirit that was his father said, “God damn baby. Ain’t worth a shit.”

Traveller danced in the flames of Willy’s life. The dirty looks, the stares, the whispers of ‘nigger’ burned hot. The voice of Willy’s father saying, “You be good for nothin’. Piece of crying shit, dat’s all you are,” stoked the fire, kept it burning with intense heat.
What Willy knew as hell, Traveller knew as Willy’s life. It burned within him as his body reacted to the transfusion. He felt inferior, unworthy of happiness or anything good. No wonder he couldn’t hold his head up. No wonder the heaviness in his chest increased with each new slight, each new sadness. The white heat of rejection threatened to consume him in its flames.
Only the undying will to live allowed Traveller to fight the caustic combustion that raged inside his immune system. It attacked Willy’s foreign blood trying to reject it. Traveller teetered on the brink of death. His temperature spiked to extremely high levels for a Benwarian. The hand of death reached for him offering to deliver him from the inferno of pain.
“Come,” the black specter beckoned, “let me bring the peace of nothingness. Come, take my hand. I’ll lead you to the land of the unfeeling. The pain will cease, the fire will stop. Come, you’re burning up.”
Traveller, tired of the pain, held his hand out.Chapter 27 - The Final Battle

The nurse removed the thermometer from underneath Traveller’s tongue to stare at it in disbelief. “One hundred seven degrees,” she informed Dr. Graham.
“Let’s get him in an ice bath. If we don’t bring his temperature down, we’ll lose him,” the doctor said. He and the nurse left the room.
Lori put her hand on Traveller’s forehead, “Please dear God don’t let him die,” she prayed. “I love you Traveller,” she whispered.
Ten minutes later, Dr. Graham followed two orderlies into the room. They were pushing a tub filled with ice cubes and water. One of them pulled Traveller’s sheets back and then the pair of them gently lifted him into the water while Dr. Graham held his wounded arm to keep it from getting wet. Lori held his head. The ice cubes clicked together when the alien dislodged them as he sunk into the water.
Traveller lay limp, un-responding. Dr. Graham’s expression of resignation caused Lori’s hope to waver momentarily before she remembered Traveller’s touch, his kind expression, his belief in his friends. He can’t die! I won’t let him, she thought. Please God, don’t let him die.
“I’ll go get your friends,” said Dr. Graham. “There’s nothing we can do for him now. His temperature hasn’t come down. I can‘t find a pulse.”

Jesse, Tim, and Willy entered the room a few minutes later. Their laughter and campionship had been replaced with a glum sense of loss. Lori still held Traveller’s head. The ice cubes were melted now, the water luke warm.
“Let’s lift him back onto the bed and dry him off so he can die with dignity,” Lori said.
“I git his feet,” Willy said.
“I’ll get under his arms,” Jess said moving his sister out of the way. He pulled Traveller forward and up. With tears streaming down his face, Willy grabbed Traveller by the ankles. Together, they picked the alien out of the water and placed him back on the bed.
“Let me dry him off,” said Willy moving everyone back. He took a towel the nurse had left and began gently rubbing his friend down. Tears continued to spill down his face.

***
Traveller’s soul left his body. It hovered above the hospital bed. Being free of his painful shell enticed him to embrace death, to be free of the searing, burning torture of his fever.
One last look before I go he thought. He saw Lori, her head buried in Jesse’s chest as she sobbed. Jesse held her with his head down. He, too, was filled with grief. Tim sat in a chair along the wall with both hands over his face. I’m sorry I can’ t stay, the pain is unbearable.
Traveller glanced back just before his finger tips touched death’s hand and saw Willy. Willy who had endured so much pain, Willy who only wanted to be whole again, that very same Willy was toweling his alien body down as hot tears fell against his blue skin and darkened into navy.
No my brother. I will not let you give your precious blood in vain. Taveller pulled his hand back, stared into the eyes of death, and returned to his shell. His body shuddered; he gasped as life rushed back into it. The blood of his brother had saved him. The fever broke, the burning pain was banished.
He breathed rhythmically, one side of his body in tune with the other as life once again coursed through his veins.

***

Willy jumped back in alarm his eyes white and wide when Traveller moved. “What da hell hapnin’?” he yelled.
“He’s breathing!” Lori exclaimed. She pushed away from Jesse. “Go get the doctor.”
Jesse left as Willy, Tim, and Lori held each other and jumped up and down. “He’s alive!” Tim blurted over and over again.
“You saved him Willy. You saved him,” Lori said gratefully.
Dr. Graham followed Jesse back into the room. “Gotta move back guys, so I can see what’s going on,” he said smiling.
The doctor held his stethoscope to Traveller’s chest. One side of his heart would beat, followed in quick succession by the other in a strong rhythm. With an expression of consternation, Dr. Graham felt his patient’s forehead. “I do believe his fever has broken.”
The nurse, who had followed Jesse and the doctor in, inserted her thermometer under Traveller’s tongue. After a few moments, she announced, “96.9 degrees, I think he’s going to make it.”
Lori hugged Dr. Graham, “Thank you Doctor G., a thousand times thank you.”Chapter 28 - Recovery

Traveller awoke the next morning in a strange room. Lori sat in a chair next to his bed. "Lori, Lori,” he whispered. She stirred but didn't wake.
Willy, sitting against the far wall, did open his eyes. He jumped up. When he got to the bedside, he held his hand out. Traveller took it and the two men shook hands as an understanding passed between them. "Man honky, I thought you never wake up," Willy said smiling.
“How are you my friend?” asked Traveller.
“I be okay. How 'bout choo?”
“I’m alive thanks to you my blood brother. I’m thinking I’ll be stronger than ever in a few days.”
“Shoot, you better be. Got some old black blood in ya now. You gonna have some soul you never had before. You already better lookin’.”
Traveller smiled. “Yes, your soul has definitely strengthened mine. I know your pain. You’ve accomplished a lot Willy.”
“Man, you all be fightin’ off a cougar by ya self. I’m surprised yo’ still alive.”
“He jumped me from behind. He was trying to bite the back of my neck. If it hadn’t of been for the coat Lori gave me, I’d be dead. My friends saved me. You with the blood, Lori with the coat. All of you for carrying me off the mountain. If I traveled the universe for another two hundred years, I would never find better friends.”
Lori had her eyes open, listening. Tears glistened, welled up, traveled down her cheeks. “Good morning Traveller. Looks like you have a little color back.”
“Oh Lori,” he said as Willy moved back. He opened his arms and held her as she rested lightly on his chest.
“Welcome back Traveller,” Lori said after a long embrace.
“Good to be back. Where are Jesse and Tim?”
“They decided to spend the night at my parent’s after they knew you were safe. They’ll be here this morning,” Lori answered.
As if on que, Jesse burst through the door followed by Tim. “Hey man, get out of bed. Let’s play some basketball,” said Jesse.
“Yeah man, it’s much safer than wrestling with mountain lions,” Tim chimed in.
When Traveller threw a leg over the bed, Lori freaked. “He’s kidding, she said holding her precious alien down.
“Stupid Jesse,” she said looking at her brother.
Jesse ignored his sister. “We brought you some breakfast,” he said setting a brown paper bag on Traveller’s chest.
Lori grabbed it, looked inside. “A peanut butter and jelly sandwhich? You better ask Dr. Graham first.”
“It’s okay Lori,” Traveller said with his mouth watering in anticipation. “I don’t suppose you brought Lori and Willy one?”
“Sorry, I’m your friend not a saint,” Jesse replied.

Later that day, Dr. Graham visited his patient. Lori had gone to lunch while the three men had very reluctantly returned to Pocatello. Lori had insisted. They had missed enough school.
“How are you?” Dr. Graham asked. His gaunt face and blood shot eyes incongruent with the smile he gave his patient. He placed his stethoscope on Traveller’s chest.
“I’m fine Doctor. Thanks to you. You’re the one that gave me the blood transfer from Willy.”
“Yes, we had no choice. Your heart seems to be on both sides of your chest. It almost like you have two of them. Do you have two hearts?”
“No Doctor. Doctor? I am afraid I don’t know your last name.”
“Dr. Graham,” he said shanking hands with Traveller.
“So what gives? Do you have a heart condition?”
“Not exactly. I’m not a normal human being, but my heart works just fine.”
“Oh it works better than fine. Its strength and efficiency is what kept you alive.”
“So what part of Russia are you from Traveller?”
“Russia? Oh yeah, I’m from uh Benwarsky?”
“You don’t seem very certain. Are you sure you’re from Russia?”
Traveller looked into Dr Graham’s eyes. Their kindness and concern were not to be lied to. “Actually Doctor Graham, I’m from a planet light years away from here. A planet called Lemmus.”
“I knew there was something strange about you. Do your friends know?”
“Yes, they tell me to keep quiet about it or I’ll end up at a place called Roswell where I’ll be experimented on.”
“So why are you here Traveller?”
“I snuck on board a reconnaissance mission to your planet. Four Benwarians were sent to observe and report back to the mother ship.”
“Oh Lord, you’re not going to invade us are you?” Dr. Graham asked.
“I don’t know what the plan is. We’re looking for a home, a planet that can sustain us.”
“What happened to your own planet?”
“It became overpopulated with people. Their way of living caused the destruction of the environment and eventually the destruction of the planet.”
“So what are your plans?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask Lori. I just want to be with my friends for right now. I’ve never had friends before.”
“I see. I’ve never seen a human recover like you have. It wouldn’t surprise me if you were able to leave tomorrow. I suggest you get some papers and then work on getting your U.S. citizenship after you recover. Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone your secret,” Dr. Graham said. “How long do we have?”
“Have?” asked Traveller.
“Before your people get here.”
“Oh, they’re light years away, several decades at least.”
“How many are coming?”
“There’s only twenty-four hundred of us left.”
“I hope they are all as kind as you are.”
“I hope so too.”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“I mean kindness might not be an option. The Benwarians need a home with a sustainable civilization. Your world is already overpopulated.”
Dr. Graham’s expression changed from concern to surprise. “What do you think they’re going to do?”
“I would imagine they will do whatever it takes to keep this world livable for future generations. Something you Earthlings seemed unconcerned with.”
“You mean they’re going to invade us?”
“If you wanted a stable home for your people what would you do? If you don’t take care of something, let someone have it that will. We stood by once and watched our home be destroyed. The Sanctum Just vowed not to let it happen again. They vowed to find a home and save the Benwarian race, they can’t do it by allowing the mindless expansion of an earth- destructive civilization.”
“But what about your friends? What about me? I saved your life.”
“I’m sorry doctor,” Traveller said holding his arm. “I have nothing to do with it. If I’m still alive when they get here, I’ll do what I can to save my friends. You are a good man and a friend. I will tell them about you so that they know there is much goodness in this world. It’s not that humans lack heart, is that they lack the foresight and the planning it takes to keep the planet healthy. They lack leadership and a form of government based on the sustainability of the planet.”
“You are truly scaring me Traveller.”
“I am sorry doctor. They probably won’t arrive in your life time anyway. If they do, remember, the Benwarians come not to destroy but to save, to save the planet from its inevitable destruction under the tutelage of unthinking human beings.”
Dr. Graham patted Traveller’s arm. “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” the doctor said.

The next morning Lori accompanied Dr. Graham into Traveller’s room. The alien had been out of bed early that morning testing his strength. He felt remarkably recovered from his ordeal. When the good doctor unwrapped the bandages from his arm, the wounds were all but healed. The same for the wounds on the back of his head.
“Amazing!” the doctor exclaimed. “These won’t even need to be redressed.” Dr. Graham looked rested. Traveller’s touch from the night before had reassured him that everything would turn out for the best.
“I’ve brought you some clothes Traveller,” Lori said. “It’s cold outside so I borrowed a couple of my dad’s sweatshirts.”
“I’ve brought you a farewell gift as well,” said Dr. Graham. He placed a larged garment box on the bed.
“Thank you Dr. Graham, but you’ve already done enough.”
“I’m not taking it back. Open it or I’ll keep you here another week,” Dr. Graham menaced.
Traveller smiled at the empty threat. It pleased him immensely that Dr. Graham thought enough of him to buy him a farewell gift. He tried to open it before noticing the scotch tape that held the lid in place.
Lori slid a finger nail under the edge breaking the seal. Traveller eagerly threw the lid off. He gasped with joy. “A new down coat! It’s even blue.” Overcome with gratitude, Traveller jumped from the bed to hug his benefactor. Although he stood impassively, Dr. Graham would remember the moment always.
The doctor cleared his throat. Looking away, he shook hands with the alien and said, “I have other patients to attend to so I’ll leave now. Keep in touch Traveller. If there’s ever anything I can do, let me know.” Dr Graham brushed at something in his eye, turned then left the room.
Traveller looked at Lori, “Why is it that I like human beings better than I do my own people?”Chapter 29 - Citizenship

A week later, Traveller had fully recovered. He took great pride in the claw marks streaking his arm. How many other Benwarians have battle scars? he thought every time he looked at them.
Before they had left Burley, Lori contacted a Mexican that had worked for her father. Raul spoke English and had connections to Burley’s Mexican mafia. Through him she purchased fake documentation papers and a green card for Traveller.
It had snowed on the day they had left her parent’s house in the first week of November. Traveller had watched the snowflakes fall white from the blue sky. “Boni bon bon,” he said several times on the drive back to Pocatello.
He spent the next week watching television, reading, and studying English. Lori had researched the naturalization process. She could marry Traveller and after five years of living in the U.S. he would be granted citizenship, or he could take the naturalization test.
Although she dearly loved her alien, Lori wasn’t ready to be married. Traveller felt the same way, so he decided to take the test. It would give him an excuse to study with Willy who was taking an American government class at the time.
On a Monday afternoon, just over a week after he returned to Lori’s apartment, Willy came over to study. “Man, my professor hand out de citizenship test first day of class. I only got a 55% on it. I be feeling bad till I find out dat only a third of the class passed it. Shoot they be deportin’ me, I can’t pass the test.”
Traveller laughed. “Well that’s all going to change Willy. No brother of mine is going to fail a simple citizenship test. You done got stuck with a study pardoner that will be all over you like a hungry mountain lion you don’t study.”
Now it was Willy’s turn to laugh. “You be all talkin’ like me man. I guess dat blood be stronger than I thought.”
Traveller didn’t tell Willy that he had read the textbook for Willy’s government class. He had studied it briefly before taking a pre-test for citizenship scoring a 99% on the test. If he hadn’t forgotten Sir Francis Scott Key’s name, it would have been a hundred percent.
“Here Willy, you ask me some questions, see if I can answer them,” Traveller said handing the book back to Willy.
“In what year was the United States constitution written,” Willy asked.
“1787.”
“Who wrote the Declaration of Independence?”
“Thomas Jefferson.”
“What are the three branches of government?”
“Ummm… Let’s see. The executive, the judicial and the, ummm . . .” Traveller said pretending he didn’t know the answer.
“The legislative,” Willy answered.
“What is the U.S. Constitution?” Willy continued.
“A plan of government and the principles that guide our nation.”
“Who is considered to be the father of our country?”
“George Washington?”
“Dat’s right.”
“Name the civil rights leader that was assassinated in the 1960s.”
“Dr. Martin Luther King!”
“Dat’s right and don’t you be forgittin’ it,” Willy said raising a hand for Traveller to give him high five.
“Amen brother,” said Traveller in unison with the slap.

Lori came home at 6 o’clock that evening. A light snow had started to fall. Specks of snow dotted her black hair with white when she entered the apartment. Traveller watched the crystals of ice melt in the warmth of the apartment.
“I cooked dinner for you, Lori,” he said with pride as she draped her coat over a kitchen chair.
“Really? It smells like macaroni and cheese,” Lori said.
“Macaroni and cheese, tossed salad and celery sticks with peanut butter,” Traveller said. He fixed her a plate and set it on the table.
“How was your day?” Lori asked as she waited for him to join her.
“Busy. I helped Willy study for my naturalization test.”
“What? Don’t you mean it the other way around?”
“No. I know all the answers, but Willy is taking a government class that covers the same information. I pretend I don’t know the answers and he teaches them to me. Teaching is the best way to learn something.”
“So how is he doing?”
“Fine. He’ll get an A on his final.”
“How do you know that?”
“He’s smart. Once I convince him of that, there will be no stopping my brother.”
Lori suddenly became curious. “So what do you think of our democracy?”
“It seems to me you have more of a bureaucracy than a democracy. So many branches of government, laws, regulations, people to enforce them. On Benwar we established a true democracy. We decided things as a group.”
“You must have had a very small population.”
“Yes. Benwar was an island nation. The total population was less than 25,000.”
“I see. The United States has close to two hundred million people. Only by establishing a republic with a representative government are we able to maintain democratic principles. It simply wouldn’t work to govern by consensus.”
Traveller scooped a spoonful of mac and cheese up. He watched a string of orange cheese as it stretched then broke when he brought the spoon to his mouth. Humming with pleasure, he chewed and swallowed.
“With such a large population don’t people become alienated from one another?”
“Being an American unites us. We believe in certain principles that allow us the freedom of individual choice under the law.”
“Yet the United States is so divided now. I’ve watched the news. Millions were against the Vietnam War while millions were for it. How can you say your country is united?”
“Eventually most citizens turned against involvement in Vietnam forcing the government to agree to a peace treaty with the Vietcong. Sometimes it’s messy, but eventually everything works itself out.”
“On Benwar we would have decided as a whole the merits of the war and how to conduct it. Not one of my people would have agreed to the war unless our island was physically threatened. A political war such as Vietnam would never have been countenanced. Our leaders facilitated consensus, they didn’t dictate.”
“No one ran for office, you had no politicians?”
“Members of the Sanctum Just were chosen by their merits. Anyone unseemly enough to promote themselves would have been shunned. Many served despite their reticence.”
“A world without politicians, that must have been nice. Benwar sounds a lot less complicated than the United States.”
“I love it here, but there is no definite culture or rules to guide people. Many beliefs that one group of people hold conflict with that of another causing turmoil and strife. These differences between people are exploited by your politicians to keep themselves in power.”
“But maybe that’s why you like it here so much, you have the freedom to choose what you want to think, how you want to be.”
“Maybe, I must think on it.”
“So when are you going to take the test?”
“Next Wednesday. I will pass it.”
Lori and Traveller finished eating their food, each lost in their own thoughts. When Lori finished her plate, Traveller got up to clear the table. “I’ll do the dishes,” he said.
“Thank you,” Lori said.
“For what, doing the dishes?”
“No, for being someone who thinks about the world around them. So many people on our planet don’t think at all.”

On the Wednesday that Traveller took his naturalization test, Willy came over in the late afternoon. Willy’s breath preceded him, riding white on the cold winter air. Traveller opened the door at his friend’s approach.
“Hey Willy, what’s happening?”
“What’s up with you? Didjoo pass your test?”
“Of course, I had a great teacher.”
“Way to go, my brother,” Willy said holding his hand out. Taveller took it and pulled his friend to him for a pat on the back.
“You taught me the stuff so well, there’s no way you’re not going to get an “A” on the final.”
“Dat’s right. I even be reading the textbook. With Jesse’s help I have a passing grade in math, too.”

Traveller spent the next three weeks inside Lori’s apartment. While waiting for his citizenship papers, he read Lori’s encyclopedias and watched television. He stayed away from the Idaho State campus. Lori had given him strict instructions to keep to himself until he had documentation.
Willy, Jesse, and Tim came over often. They would play chess, watch T.V., or study. Traveller had shown Willy how to use a dictionary’s sound pronunciation key. Pretending the he needed coaching on enunciation and diction, Traveller had Willy teach him how to pronounce words.
On the second day of finals week, Traveller got up to pace the floor. Willy was to take his government final. It was a Tuesday afternoon, cold, but the sun shone making the snow glisten. Beside himself with worry, Traveller left Lori’s apartment, He walked to the campus passing snow-frosted evergreens. He enjoyed the cold air and being snug and warm in the down coat Dr. Graham had given him.
It was eleven a.m., Willy’s test was scheduled from ten to eleven-thirty. Traveller stood outside the classroom door and waited. He paced back and forth watching one student after another exit the room. Willy finally emerged at eleven-twenty with his head down. He didn’t see Traveller.
“Willy! Willy,” Traveller called.
Willy looked up. When he saw his friend, a smile revealed white even teeth. “Hey, my man!”
“How did you do?”
“Man that test be so easy, I be ashamed I study so hard.”
“That makes it a good day all the way around. My citizenship papers came today. I’m an American.”
“Damn, the first blue American in the country. Let’s celebrate. I’ll buy you lunch, your favorite, bean and cheese burritos.”
“Boni bon bon!”

Chapter 30 - Of Mice and Men

Two weeks later Willy and Traveller walked around the campus checking the grades that were posted on sheets outside each classroom door. When Willy saw the ‘A’ next to his name on the government sheet his eyes widened. “Man, I ain’t never had no A before,” he said.
“Congratulations Bro,” Traveller said.
Next they checked his math grade. Willy had earned a ‘B-’. “Jesse be proud of hisself now,” he said. “Well we be done now. Let’s go.”
“What about your English grade? And weren’t you taking an American Literature class?” Traveller asked.
“Shoot, I afraid to check those even if Lori did help me.”
“You have to see what you got. Don’t you want to know?”
“Come on then.”
They walked across the campus to the English building. Once outside the door to his class, Willy looked at his grade. “C-? I guess that’s not so bad,” he said smiling.
His literature course was in the same building, up the stairs and around the corner. When they got there, Willy’s professor was talking to a student just outside the door.
Willy hung back waiting for him to leave. Travis would have none of it. He walked up to the professor, “Excuse me, I’m Travis. My friend here is shy. He’s in your class and wants to know how he did.”
“Oh yeah. Hi Willy,” he said shaking Traveller’s hand and then Willy’s. “Your basketball coach talked to me about your grade. I’m afraid you started working too late to bring it up to a ‘C’, but you did receive a D+. I told him you can do an extra-credit project. If it’s done well enough, I’ll raise your grade. I gave you an incomplete until I could talk to you about it. What do you think?”
“He’ll do it!” Traveller said.
“What are you his manager? I was asking Willy.”
“Man, if Travis say I’ll do it, I’ll do it. Don’t want him hounding me to hell about it. What I got to do?”
“Excuse me,” the professor said to the student he had been talking to. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow at eight o’clock. You two come into my office.” He ushered them down the hall to the office complex.
The next day the two boys were seated in front of the professor’s desk as he sat in the swivel chair behind. “Have you ever read Steinbeck?” the professor asked Willy.
“No, I only read what I have to. The only book I ever read by myself was Old Yellow.”
The professor laughed, “Well, it’s time we changed that. I’m sure you are familiar with Of Mice and Men. If you are willing to read it and write a paper discussing these questions, I’ll raise your grade to a ‘C’.” He handed Willy a paper.
Willy read the three discussion questions that were on it. The first said, “Discuss the setting and how it affected the character’s view points.” The second stated, “Explain how Steinbeck explores friendship in Of Mice and Men.” The final question was, “Explain what the American Dream means to you. Take three characters from the novel and explain what the American Dream meant to them. How are these dreams similar?”
“Here’s the book. I’ll expect a five hundred word typed essay by the end of Christmas break.”
“Five hundred words! Typed! Man I ain’t never written anything that long,” Willy complained.
“It’ll be fun. I’ll help you Willy. We can read and discuss the book together.”
“Look at it as a learning experience,” the professor said. Steinbeck took his stories from real life. He had a keen understanding of human emotions. He wrote about life and social injustice. The book is as relevant today as it was when he wrote it,” the professor explained. “You have to play ball with me to play ball for ISU.”
“You right Professor Wright. Thanks for the chance,” Willy said with Traveller’s hand on his shoulder.
Once they were outside of the English building, Traveller turned to Willy. “Lori has that book at home. I’ll read it tonight then discuss it with her.”
“Take me longer than a day to read it,” said Willy.
Traveller had taken the book from Willy. “It’s one hundred and eighteen pages. If you read twenty pages a day, it will take six days to read it. We’ll discuss it as you go along. It’ll be fun.”
“Don’t sound so bad when you put it like that,” said Willy.

It was Sunday, six days before Christmas. Lori and Traveller were cooking dinner. A turkey stuffed with oyster dressing roasted in the oven while Traveller peeled the potatoes. He washed them off and put them in the pot to boil. Lori was making broiled brussels sprouts with butter and maple syrup. The Beatle’s Abbey Road was playing in the background. It had become Traveller’s favorite album.
When the red tab on the turkey popped up, Traveller removed it from the oven. He drained the drippings into a pot, added flour and milk along with seasonings. He put the pot on an oven burner then turned the heat on for pan gravy. While it cooked, he added butter and cream to the potatoes and then mashed them. Not until they were just the right consistency did he sprinkle them with parsley. Traveller put a pat of butter on top before placing them back in the oven with the turkey.
He had scheduled the dinner for a Christmas celebration but it was really a discussion session for Willy who had just finished reading Of Mice and Men. Traveller had also done research on the Great Depression and John Steinbeck. Lori had pointed him to books and other references after she had explained to him there was no such thing as data banks or personal computers. She had even taken him to the library and shown him how to use microfish which were strips of information on film that you put into little machines to read. Traveller found accessing information on Earth to be very primitive compared to the powerful computer on board his space shuttle.
Even so, Traveller found it strange that he was beginning to love reading from a book. The print couldn’t be enlarged and he couldn’t reference other information for clarification, but there was something comforting about having a book, sitting under a lamp in a warm room in a comfortable chair and reading while it snowed in the cold windy weather.
When everything was ready, the burners were turned to warm. Traveller closed his eyes to listen, “the long and winding road that leads to your heart.” When he thought of the cold world that George and Lenny existed in, tears of gratitude filled his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” asked Lori.
“Wrong? Nothing. Right now everything is right.”
A knock interrupted Traveller’s musings. “It’s them,” he said with a smile. He ran to the door, threw it open.
“Man I be smellin’ something fine!” exclaimed Willy. “Hey, ya’ll don’t mind if I bring a honkie to dinner. It be better than if I was to marry yo’ daughter,” Willy joked.
Lori stood behind Traveller. She smiled and said, “Jesse? I think I’d rather anybody marry my daughter than him.”
“I think he was taking about that movie, “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?” Jesse said.
“Oh really? Who starred in it?” asked Lori.
Jesse rolled his eyes. “You’ve made me watch it three times. Sydney Portiere, Spencer Tracy, and Katherine Hepburn.”
“Okay, I guess you can come in,” Lori laughed, “but you’re still not marrying my daughter.”
“Sit down, sit down,” Traveller motioned everyone to their place at the table. “I’ll serve.”
Traveller took the turkey from the oven. He carved the breast into thin slices before removing the stuffing. He placed it in a bowl and set it on the table along with the turkey. Next came the mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts, and store-bought dinner rolls. He sat the gravy on the table last. When everything was ready, he said the blessing. “By the universe, thank you for my friends, the food, and my brother Willy, Lori, and even Jesse. Amen. Let’s eat.”
“Amen Jesus,” Willy said before digging in. He piled his plate with turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and brussel sprouts and then smothered the plate with gravy. He kept hitting his serving spoon with Jesse’s in their race to fill their plate. Lori and Traveller looked on with amusement.
Not until their guests were served and eating did the hosts take a modest plate. “Do either of you want a shovel?” Lori asked when she noticed that their plates were already half-empty.
“Man, good as this is, I be tempted,” said Willy.
“This serving spoon’s big enough,” said Jesse.
“You pig Jesse. You’re not supposed to eat with that.”
“Well then, don’t be cooking such good food Sis,” Jesse managed to say between heaping spoonfuls of potatoes and gravy. “What do you think Travis?”
“Boni bon bon, damn fine meal. Better then beans without the side effects,” Traveller answered scooping a forkful of oyster dressing into his mouth.
“You’ve never had Brussels sprouts,” said Jesse.
The table grew silent as everyone concentrated on the food before them. Willy hummed with pleasure, each bite treasured, made better by the sauce of friendship. Finally his stomach bulged, “Mmmm, mmmm, man that be the best meal I ever ate,” he said pushing away from the table to give his stomach room.
“Yes indeedy,” said Jesse. “Everyone should have a sister like you Lori then women wouldn’t seem so bad.”
“You’re hardly an expert on women Jesse,” Lori countered. “You chase but never catch one.”
“Man, you’all keep fightin’ it might hurt my appetite,” said Willy.
“I think your appetite has already been damaged,” Traveller said with a smile. He and Lori had finished their plates. He got up and started clearing the table. “Why don’t you guys go in the living room so we can start the discussion,” he suggested.
“What we gonna discuss?” asked Willy.
“Of Mice and Men. I forgot to tell you, you have to work for your meal. We’re going to help you with your paper,” said Traveller.
Willy and Jesse moved to the couch in the carpeted living room just off the kitchen. Traveller could hear Jesse complaining, “Man Willy, this sucks making me go to school on Christmas break.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Good thing I read the book in high school,” Jesse bragged.
“You did? I get depressed every time I think about what George did to Lennie,” Willy replied.
“Yeah, but there’s something about the book I liked,’ said Jesse.
Ten minutes later, Lori and Traveller came in the room. They sat in the two stuffed chairs opposite Willy. Lori started the discussion, “The first question is about setting,” she said handing Willy a new pen and notebook.
“What these for?” he asked.
“You’re taking notes Bro,” said Traveller. “How else are you going to remember everything?”
“So what is the setting?” asked Lori.
“It takes place in Salinas, California in the 1930s during the Great Depression,” Willy answered.
“What do you know about the Depression?” asked Traveller.
“Not much. People had a hard time getting jobs and the stock market crashed,” said Willy.
Traveller’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “My research on the topic was absolutely fascinating. At the time the population of the United States was one-hundred twenty-three million. In less than fifty years the population has grown to two-hundred thirteen million.”
“What’s that got to do with the Depression?” asked Willy.
“Nothing, it just astounds me that the population of this country is growing so quickly. In the Great Depression, the unemployment rate reached 25%, one in four men were out of work, almost twelve million men. Women weren’t counted in these statistics. With so many unemployed, many couldn’t provide for their families. People waited in lines at soup kitchens to receive the only meal they would have for the day. The soup they received was called Hoover stew since many blamed the president at the time for the Depression. One half of the children in the United States did not have adequate food, clothing, or medical care.”
“They named a lot of things after Hoover,” Lori added. “People were so desperate for food that they ate jackrabbits so they were called Hoover hogs, newspapers were called Hoover blankets. They even had Hoover wagons, cars pulled by mules because people couldn’t afford gasoline. Hoovervilles sprung up around the country, these were where the homeless gathered to live in tents or cardboard shacks.”
“Widespread unemployment and economic hardship caused many men to roam in search of work. At the same time a severe drought ravaged the mid-west. Erosion and wind caused dirt to blow for days and even months. The Midwest was referred to as the Dust Bowl. Hundreds of thousands left their homes in search of food,” Traveller continued.
“Man, I bet blacks suffered the worst,” Willy said.
“That’s right,” Lori agreed. “They were the last to be hired and the first to be fired, but they weren’t the only ones to suffer. Mexican Americans were accused of taking jobs away from “real” Americans. Many were encouraged to go back to Mexico. Minorities became scapegoats. They were blamed for the widespread unemployment. In Germany, it was the Jews that were blamed for the bad economy.”
“In reality, minorities had little or no economic power,” said Traveller. “It was the white people who owed too much money that they couldn’t pay back. Nine thousand banks went out of business during the Great Depression. The stock market lost close to 90% of its value. People cut back on spending so manufacturing jobs were almost non-existent. Steel mills cut so many jobs that they were only running at twenty percent of capacity.”
“I read that three million children were forced to quit going to school. Schools also closed down or reduced their hours due to lack of funding since tax revenues had fallen so much. Two hundred thousand children left their families to take to the road on their own,” Lori added.
Traveller spoke next, “Other countries felt that the unregulated greed of capitalism caused the Depression, but things were even worse in the Soviet Union. A famine called the Holodomor occurred when there was a widespread crop failure. From 1932-1933 six to seven million Ukrainians died of starvation. The Soviet leader, Stalin, instituted trade policies that exacerbated the problem. He remained indifferent to the plight of the Ukrainians. The word genocide was used to describe Stalin’s tactics. I looked the word up. It means to target a race and systematically eliminate it through starvation or by killing them.”
“So as bad as us blacks suffered during the Depression, a lot of people in other countries had it worse,” said Willy.
“That’s no excuse for prejudice and discrimination,” said Lori. “Only small-minded cretins believe in racial superiority. Look at Hitler, his insane policies destroyed a nation and caused the deaths of over fifty million people.”
“I have read references to Nazi Germany, but I haven’t studied it yet,” said Traveller.
“Me neither,” said Willy.
“Hitler’s rise to power was a symptom of severe economic hardship. He promised Germans a return to greatness if they followed him. People gave up their beliefs for the cult of personality,” said Lori. “He blamed Jews, gays, communists, and anyone else that didn’t agree with him for Germany’s problems. Twelve million Germans were targeted for extermination.
So with all the social unrest in the United States, Americans still believed in the system. Giving people the right to vote goes a long way toward quelling social unrest. It’s too bad that so many citizens neglect to educate themselves so that they can make an informed decision.”
“I thought this was supposed be a discussion about Of Mice and Men,” said Jesse.
“It is. In order to truly understand Steinbeck’s writings you have to understand the social context in which they were written. Times were tough, people were scared. That’s why thousands migrated to California during the Great Depression,” said Lori. “Flyers were distributed throughout the United States advertising jobs. The more people that moved to California, the lower the wages became. Soon so many migrants arrived that “bum blockades” were set up. Not only that but anti-Okie laws were passed that placed indigents in jail.
George and Lennie were migrants. They followed the work. At one point in the novel, George tells Lennie that guys like us don’t belong no place. They were powerless to change the world around them. Migrants worked at the whim of those who hired them.
“The Great Depression affected a whole generation of people worldwide. It produced a generation of savers, of people who stuck with a job and worked hard. It also produced a generation of movie goers since the theatres provided relief from a bleak existence,” Lori concluded.
“That’s why Curly’s wife dreamed of being a movie star. She be all going to the movies all the time. She see Crooks the colored blacksmith as a nobody and threatens to have him lynched, calls him a no-account nigger. I want to reach in that book and strangle her myself,” said Willy. “I know how he felt, man. I know how he felt.”
“That’s what makes Steinbeck a great writer. He spoke to you, Willy. What he wrote was real even if it was fiction,” Lori said. “Steinbeck actually spent time in a Hooverville. At one point his tent was even flooded out during heavy California rains. He spent a miserable night in the mud and water. Not only did he have firsthand knowledge of the migrant worker’s plight, he also collected the stories and experiences of those he wrote about. Lennie was based on a real person. So you see, Steinbeck’s writings shed light on the inequities that existed in the 1930s”
“I’m supposed to write about how Steinbeck explores friendship, none of the people in the book was friends. Curley’s wife marry him for his money, don’t even like the man. She be all comin’ on to everyone she meet. Crooks ain’t got nobody but hisself. Even George and Lennie can’t be friends since Lennie’s too simple to understand what friendship is. Everyone in the novel be all alone.”
“That’s right,” said Lori. “Existence was so precarious that people often thought of survival first and other people afterward.”
“That’s why George has a dream of having his own farm where he and Lennie can grow their own garden and raise chickens. A place without a boss, where they don’t hafta worry ‘bout where their next meal is coming from,” said Willy.
“That’s the American Dream for them. What’s the American Dream for you Willy?” asked Traveller.
Willy’s eyes sparkled with a faraway look. “Man, I wanna be a star in the NBA, make lots of money, be respected. How about you?”
Traveller never said anything. After several moments, he replied, “I snuck off the ship because I was bored. I never had to worry about where my next meal was coming from or even what the temperature was outside until I landed here. My space pod was a one-way ticket to Earth. I don’t have a dream because I’m like Lennie, I’ll never fit in.”
Jesse’s temper flared, “You’re nothing like Lennie. You have friends.”
“Yeah man, you also have a blood brother. Don’t be all forgittin’ ‘bout us,” Willy said.
“So maybe I’ve already found the American Dream, friendship,” Traveller smiled wistfully. He looked at Jesse, “What about you?”
“Man, I don’t think enough about the future to have a dream. I’m just going to go to school and let things take care of themselves.”
“What about you, Lori?” Traveller asked.
“I’m going to get a master’s in American Literature. I’d like to become a college professor at a major university,” she replied.
“Whatever you decide to do, you’ll be good at it,” said Traveller with conviction.
“I believe that success is achieved by having goals and then thinking about how to achieve those goals. That’s why school has been so difficult for Jesse. It’s not that he’s not smart enough, it’s just that he has no motivation,” Lori said.
“Same with me,” admitted Willy. “I only started studying so I could play basketball.”
“Think about it, Willy. What are the odds of playing professional basketball? Not very good and yet you’ve been given a chance to get an education. Don’t let the opportunity pass you by,” said Lori.
“I’m beginning to understand that. It’s just that school is so hard for me. It took me over an hour and a half just to read twenty pages of Steinbeck’s novel,” Willy said.
“But reading is like anything else, the more you practice, the better you get at it,” said Lori. “Did you get any notes? I wasn’t paying attention.”
Willy showed her the blank tablet. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I learn by listening. When I get home I’ll write everything up and think about it. I’ll write the essay before Christmas. Will you proofread it?”
“I would be honored,” said Lori.
“Are we done?” asked Jesse. When no one said anything, he shouted, “Let’s watch some basketball, the Knicks are playing the Celtics.”

When Willy got back to his dorm room, he wrote down everything he could remember about the discussion at Lori’s adding his own thoughts to the notes. He finished with over ten pages of hand-written notes.
On Monday Willy jumped out of bed early. He had thought about Of Mice and Men all night. He started writing and he couldn’t stop. He wrote about being powerless to affect the world around you. He wrote about how the common man often suffers from the policies made by the rich. He wrote about how economic hard times can bring out the worst in people. He discussed prejudice and discrimination. He wrote about the millions who are denied access to the American Dream. He explained how sports provided a way out of poverty for so many African Americans.
After discussing the American Dream at length, his essay turned to friendship. He discussed how every individual is ultimately alone in the world since no one can truly share the experiences and thoughts of another person. He wrote about how the characters in Steinbeck’s novel were totally isolated from one another. He concluded the essay with the killing of poor innocent Lennie who never understood the world around him. He ended the composition with these sentences, “Lennie trusted George. His lack of understanding blinded him; he didn’t see the bullet coming. We all have some Lennie in us in that we are blind to many aspects of life, but if we educate ourselves and study the world we live in, maybe, just maybe, we can avoid the unexpected bullet that destroys our life.”
Willy was so engrossed in writing that time had seemingly stood still. It was eight o’clock at night when he finished his essay. He had drunk large quantities of coffee and hadn’t eaten all day.
He decided to call Jesse, “Hey honkie what you’all be doin’?” he asked after hearing his friend’s voice.
“I just got back from playin’ basketball. What’s up?”
“I’m lookin’ for a pardner to go eat. Are you hungry?”
“Starved.”
Willy and Jesse walked down the campus and across the street to McDonald’s. Willy couldn’t contain his excitement. “Man, I finished that sucker. I wrote over twelve pages. I never thought doing something like that could be so much fun.”
“I’m proud of you Bro’” Jesse said.
They sat down after they had ordered their food. Just as they were pulling double-cheese burgers out of the sack, a couple of Willy’s friends walked over to their table. “Hey Willy, what y’all be doin’ hanging out with a white boy all the time?”
“Hey Tom. This is Jesse. He’s a friend. I don’t worry ‘bout what color he is.”
“That right? Well a couple of us are going to Ribs for a little after hour’s fun tonight. You comin’?”
“Naw man, I tryin’ to get back on the team, got more important things to do.”
“If y’all change your mind, you know where it is,” Tom said. He and his friend shook their heads and left.
“Shit, can’t believe I just did that. First time I ever turn Tom down. I usually don’t miss a chance to drink beer and play cards,” Willy said.
“Who would have thunk that writing an essay could change you into a geek,” joked Jesse.
“I know bro’. I know.”

Willy had delivered his essay to Lori on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t until two days later that she had a chance to read it. She could tell it had been painstakingly written. Several misspelled words had been crossed out with the correct spelling written above. He had even made a few grammar corrections.
The composition revealed a depth of understanding she thought Willy incapable of. She was wrong. It was obvious that Willy had truly been moved by Steinbeck’s writing. Lori cried when she read the part about the farmhands feeling worthless and Willy wrote, “There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not haunted by the disgusted look on my old man’s face as he says, ‘You ain’t worth a shit.’ I’ll spend my whole life trying to prove him wrong.”
When Traveller saw her crying, he asked, “Is that Willy’s essay?”
“Yes, if this doesn’t get him a passing grade nothing will.”
“Great,” Traveller said and in his excitement he changed topics abruptly. “Guess what?”
“Yes?” she asked.
“I have a job. I start loading boxcars tomorrow,” said Traveller. “I’ll be able to help you out with expenses now.”
“That’s great Traveller. Welcome to the world of drudgery.”Chapter 31 - The World of Work

Pocatello was a railroad town. It served as a major hub for the western United States. It was there that the alien found a job loading boxcars. Traveller reported to the loading dock at three-thirty in the afternoon. Although his shift didn’t start until four, the foreman pressed him into action immediately.
“You don’t mind starting now, do you Sonny?” the grizzled man with a hard demeanor looked up at Traveller. He doesn’t look like the brightest bulb on the circuit the old foreman thought.
“Hi, my name is Travis,” Traveller said.
“That’s nice. See that guy over there moving slower than my grandma? He’ll show you what to do.”
“Your grandmother works here?”
“Yeah right. She’s that bearded guy on the train tracks,” the foreman said.
Traveller looked puzzled. “But he’s a man.”
“You’re really not very bright, are you?” the foreman said with disgust. “If you want the job get busy.”
Traveller ears burned with embarrassment when he realized the foreman thought he was stupid. Anger welled up inside of him. He wanted to hit the grizzled man with the dirty cap perched on his head. Stay calm. You are on Earth now. Lori needs the money. You could be arrested he thought.
He walked over to the heister parked in front of an open boxcar. The older man was picking up boxes and stacking them inside of the refrigerated car. “Here let me help you,” Traveller said taking a box from the man’s arms and stacking it.
The man looked at the foreman. When the boss nodded yes, the man jumped off the dock and left.
It took over an hour for Traveller to load the boxcar. Unused to repetitive labor, his shoulders ached when he finished.
The foreman watched him with approval. When the last box was loaded, the heister backed up to drive into the warehouse. It returned with another pallet of boxes labeled Idagold Frenchfries. The machine stopped before the open door of another boxcar.
Traveller looked at it with disbelief. He stood with his hands on his hips until the foreman shouted, “Well go on, load ‘er up.”
This time he paced himself. Realizing that he would be doing this for eight hours, he worked more deliberately. After two and a half hours of loading boxes a whistle sounded.
“Fifteen minutes,” the foreman said. When Traveller kept working, the foreman angered. “Damn it! Take a break. Are you tryin’ to get me in trouble with the union?”
Traveller came out of the boxcar and sprawled out on the dock to rest.
He could feel the foreman’s glare. When he felt his own anger return, he imagined the Sawtooth mountains and then the Christmas dinner with his friends until he calmed.
Traveller closed his eyes and dreamed of being back on Ship. He was sparring with Porter. His sensory saber strokes were masterful as he danced and parried against his opponent. He he was just about to deliver the victory blow when the whistle sounded again.
“Back to work,” the foreman said.
When Traveller stood up, his back ached; his legs felt weak. He steadied himself and started loading French fries again. He developed a rhythm, things seemed better. An hour and forty-five minutes later the lunch whistle sounded.
“Lunch time. Go to the cafeteria,” the foreman directed.
Traveller looked around. When he saw other workers all heading for the same place, he picked up his lunch pail and followed them through the warehouse and into a door at the back.
Traveller found himself in a brightly lit room with lunch tables and bench seating. Several workers sat in groups laughing, joking with each other. No one noticed him as he found an unoccupied table. Traveller sat down by himself. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone after the foreman had embarrassed him.
Traveller set the black metal lunchbox on the table. When he opened it, a note rested on top of the food. “I love you Traveller.” it said. It was signed with a heart by Lori’s name. Two peanut butter and jelley sandwhiches, celery sticks, and a thermos of milk were packed neatly inside along with two light brown sponge cakes.
Traveller ate ravenously washing the PBJs down with the milk. When he finished crunching the celery, he removed the cellophane wrapper from the cakes. One bite caused immediate addiction. They were sweet with a white filling inside. He ate them slowly relishing the cake’s spongy flavor.
With his lunch eaten, Traveller laid out on the bench to rest. He closed his eyes. She loves me he thought.

By the end of his shift, Traveller was more exhausted than he had ever been before. His arms, legs, and back ached. He had loaded three boxcars during his shift.
The foreman watched as he punched his time card out. “Coming back tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes, take care of your grandma,” Traveller replied. He jumped off the dock and walked home.
Lori was asleep when he got there. She had left the kitchen light on. A note on the table said that there was a bowl of macaroni and cheese in the refridgerator for him. By the universe, Lori is acroluminous, far out, and groovy.

By the end of two weeks, Traveller had adjusted to the work. His muscles no longer ached. The past week he had resorted to seeing how fast he could load the boxcars to make the time pass faster.
It was Friday at lunch time. He had kept to himself all week long sitting at an empty table. Tonight, to his surprise, a tall muscular worker sat by him on one side. On the other side, a short heavy-set man sat down and crowded close.
“Hey moron, what do you think you’re doing?” the tall guy asked.
“Eating my lunch. Mine name is Travis,” Traveller replied.
“Eating my lunch. I can see that moron,” the tall guy said.
“I’m not a moron,” Traveller said quietly.
“You’re exactly what I say you are, ain’t he Therm?”
“That’s right. You’re working too fast, you piece of shit,” Therm said.
“I’m not a piece of shit,” Traveller tried to stay calm but a fever spread throughout his body. He saw Willy’s drunken father, could even smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Yes you are. You’re a stinkin’ worthless pile of shit,” Therm said slapping him hard on the back.
Traveller exploded. Before either man could react, he elbowed the tall guy in the face. A loud crack ensued with blood shooting everywhere.
Suddenly, Therm had both hands around Traveller’s neck pushing the lighter man to the grey cement floor. Traveller’s head hit the hard surface aggravating the wounds from the mountain lion. He broke Therman’s grip by punching him in the ribs. He could feel the claws marks throb. The pain caused Traveller to explode with fury, fury that he had worked so hard to control. He threw the Therm off and then rolled to his feet.
Therm rose to his feet with his fists doubled in front of his face. Traveller jabbed with his left, hit with his right. The blow to the temple laid the larger man out. It was a calculated blow. He jumped on Therm’s chest and followed up with a pummeling to Therm’s face. “You Lizerian dog!” Traveller shouted as each blow brought new freshets of blood and bruises.
Several of the other workers had gathered around to watch the fun. It wasn’t until the foreman broke through the crowd and shouted, “Travis! Stop! You’re going to kill him,” that Traveller came to his senses. He rolled off the larger man and stood shaking with rage.
“Back up, you guys,” the foreman commanded pushing his way through the crowd. He knelt beside Therman who had rolled over face down. He was moaning. “Someone get a bucket of cold water and a rag from the janitor,” the foreman said.
When the bucket was handed to him, he rolled Therman over then helped him sit up. He washed the blood from the cuts, wringing red from the rag several times until the water darkened. “Hold this over your face,” he said to Therman.
Someone had brought several lengths of coarse, brown paper towel from the lavatory for the taller man. He was holding a damp piece over his nose with his eyes closed. “Here let me look at it,’ the foreman said pulling his hands away. The nose was bent to one side.
The foreman gave his verdict, “He broke it.” The whistle ending lunch break sounded almost immediately afterward. The foreman looked around at the men. “You guys get back to work,” he told them. He looked at the men involved in the altercation and said, “You three, in my office.”
The foreman followed the men into a room on one side of the cafeteria. Traveller walked behind the two workers who had tried to bully him. Once inside, the foreman sat behind his desk motioning for the men to sit. Therm and his friend sat in the chairs before his desk.
When Traveller didn’t comply, the foreman raised his voice, “I said sit.”
“No, I will not sit,” Traveller said quietly. His blue eyes sparkled dangerously.
The foreman resorted to the only power he had over Travis, “Do you wanna lose your job?”
“I choose to stand. It is my right as an American citizen,” Traveller replied. He walked behind the desk and put his hand on the foreman’s shoulder.
The foreman reappraised the tall lanky man standing next to him. He noted the deep scars on Traveller’s left arm. He saw the muscles bunching with tension. When he looked into the Traveller’s penetrating eyes he realized he had no authority over the strange person who glowed with power. The foreman struggled to remember. “What’s, why, what was I going to say?”
“You were going to ask who started it. That’s what they do when there’s a fight on T.V.,” Traveller said.
“Oh yeah, that’s right.” The foreman looked at the two men who were seated before him. “Who started it?” he asked.
The room became very quiet as the men stared at Traveller. His eyes warned them to tell the truth. They saw the fear in the foreman’s eyes, nervous sweat beaded his forehead. They looked at one another, each pointed at the other. In unison they said, “He did.”
“You’re the one who said we should go sit by him,” Therman said.
“You called him a piece of shit,” the taller man said.
“It was a worthless piece of shit,” Traveller said taking over the discussion. “I suggest you apologize. While you’re at it, I want you to promise never, ever to call anyone a worthless piece of shit again. If I ever hear those words come from either of your mouths, the beating I’ll give you will make tonight’s seem mild. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” the two chorused like they were speaking to a drill sergeant. “We’re sorry, sir.”
“Now get back to work,” Traveller mimicked what the foreman had said earlier.
The men scrambled out of the office so fast that one of them knocked his chair over. When they were gone, Traveller walked around to the other side of the desk. He placed his hands on top then leaned over so that he was face to face with the foreman. He stared hard into the man’s eyes before asking, “Do I still have my job?”
“Ye… yes, yes sir,” the foreman stuttered. He watched Traveller turn and exit the room before a sigh of relief that started in his bowels escaped from his lips.

Traveller went home that night walking with his head down. Damn, I wonder if that’s what Lizerians were like, vicious and callous. How can there be such disparity between humans? Some are good, some are bad, maybe working for eight hours a day makes them as cold as lizards.
He barely realized that he was walking up the stairs to Lori’s apartment until he stood before the door. He let himself in quietly. There was a note on the table that read, “There’s leftover spaghetti in the fridge. I miss you! Love, Lori.”
Traveller couldn’t bear the thought of eating. He turned the kitchen light off and sat at the table.

Traveller was still sitting in the dark when he heard Lori get up. He roused himself and made coffee. He found the pancake mix, read the directions, then made the batter.
When Lori came in from showering, Traveller had pancakes warming in the oven. “Good morning,” he said trying to smile.
“What’s that wonderful smell?” she asked.
“I made pancakes for the sweetest woman in the universe.”
“Why thank you,” Lori said sipping the coffee with a teaspoon of sugar and a dollop of milk he had fixed for her. She watched as he removed the plate from the oven.
When Traveller turned around, she noticed the hurt in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
He set the plate and himself down at the table. While she buttered her pancakes and smothered them with syrup, Traveller explained, “I got in a fight at work. They called me a worthless piece of shit.”
“Who did? Damn it, I knew it was a mistake for you to work, Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault,” Lori said taking a bite of the pancakes.
Traveller explained in detail the events from the night before. When he finished he asked, “Is that what other humans are like?”
“Those guys are uneducated louts from the working class,” Lori replied as if that explained it. “They have no economic power so they bully those around them. Maybe you should quit. I don’t want you working with jerks. ”
Traveller ignored her suggection. “What’s a working class?”
“It’s a way of thinking about people, categorizing them. Most societies on Earth are arranged like a pyramid. At the top are the upper class, then the upper middle class, the middle class, the lower middle class, and then the lower classes. The people at the top have the power and influence, the people at the bottom live hand to mouth. Most people in the United States are middle class. My sociology teacher, Dr. Saraf says that our country has more upward mobility than any other nation, but it’s still hard to get away from the group you are born into.”
“Doesn’t one group of people having more than another create tension and strife?” asked Traveller.
“Obviously, but it also provides the motivation to work hard so that you can get ahead in life,” Lori answered.
“But doesn’t getting ahead involve taking advantage of those in the lower classes?”
“The people in our society that do well are those with an education. The amount of education an individual attains has a direct correlation to how much money they will make in their lifetime. The people that are able to think and look ahead thrive, while those who are content with their lot stay where they are at on the pyramid,” Lori replied.
“But if one is born to parents that understand the importance of education and can provide books and other enhancements, doesn’t that give them a great advantage?” asked Traveller.
“Our country isn’t perfect, but it’s the only place on Earth that I want to live. I believe that everyone has the chance to move up if they choose to take it,” Lori said.
“I do not understand the concept of moving up. Why can’t we all be treated equally like I was in Benwarian society? There was no working class or upper class. We were all on the same level,” Traveller said.
“But Benwar had far fewer people. The U.S. has a population of over two hundred million people. It is impossible to arrange that many people into an egalitarian society,” Lori explained.
“So the inequities exist because of overpopulation?” Traveller asked.
“Partly, but we are the most diverse society that has ever existed. The U.S. is a melting pot where all races and ethnic groups combine to form the most powerful country on Earth. Many of the inequities exist because so many people refuse to educate themselves. They feel comfortable with their own ignorance,” Lori said.
“I don’t believe humans would actually choose to be ignorant,” Traveller said with a puzzled expression.
Lori chewed and swallowed before replying, “Oh really? When you go back to work on Monday take time to get to know those you work with. I think you’ll change your opinion.” Lori finished her pancakes washing them down with the glass of milk Traveller had poured for her.
“I’ve got to go to work,” she said getting up from the table. Taveller stood up, too. She hugged her forlorn alien. “Go find Jesse and play some basketball. It’ll take your mind off things.”
“Okay, but I want you to know I won’t quit. The foreman and I have an understanding now and I’m sure the other workers will leave me alone.”
“Good because I don’t want you to be miserable,” Lori said as she slipped her coat on and left for work.

Traveller didn’t want to be alone. He dialed Jesse’s number. After several minutes a muffled voice came from the other end of the line, “Wha . . . Hello?”
“Good morning Jesse. How are you?” Traveller asked.
“What time is it?”
“Seven forty-five in the morning.”
“Man Travis, no one gets up this early on a Saturday morning unless they have to. I was sleeping in,” Jesse complained. “Didn’t you work last night?”
“Yes. I couldn’t sleep. I thought maybe you would like to play basketball today.”
“Let me sleep in for a while. I’ll meet you at Holt Gym about nine- thirty. Is that okay?”
“Thank you Jesse. I’ll go by Willy’s dorm on the way over and see if he wants to play.”

Chapter 32 - Grounded
Traveller knocked on Willy’s door. He could hear rustling inside before it opened a crack. When Willy saw who it was, he threw the door open and lit up with a smile. “Hey Bro! How ya’ll doin’? I ain’t seen you for two weeks.”
Traveller hugged his blood brother. “It is so pleasant to see a friend,” he said gratefully.
“Come on in. Take a seat,” Willy said holding something behind his back.
“What do you have there?” Traveller asked.
“Nothing man. It’s just a book. Don’t tell anyone.”
Willy slid it under the covers of his unmade bed. Traveller followed him and snatched it out. “The Grapes of Wrath? You got this from Lori didn’t you?”
“She say I should read it. It almost as sad as Of Mice and Men. Man those rich white people are hard-assed honkies. They rather hire police and thugs to keep people in line rather than pay a decent wage. No reason to starve people,” Willy said.
“Why are you reading it? I thought you hated to read.”
“Lori say it’s a great American classic. After reading Of Mice and Men, I figure it best to get some education.”
“Sounds to me like Lori’s been influencing you.”
“She smart. No reason not to listen to her.”
“I’m glad for you. Maybe I can read this after you,” Traveller said examining the book.
“Sure Bro. What brings you here on a Saturday morning?”
“I want you to play basketball with us. Jesse is going to round up some guys.”
“Man, I can’t. I just made it back on the team. I get caught playing a pick up game Coach’ll never let me off the practice squad.”
“You got back on the team? No one told me. Congratulations,” Traveller said.
“Yeah, my English teacher loved that essay y’all help me write. He bumped my grade up all the way to a B-.”
“I’m proud of you bro’.”
“Coach say if anyone gets hurt, he put me on the team, let me play in the regular game. I never would’ve done it without you.”
“That’s what brothers are for. We have to look out after each other,” Traveller said handing Willy his book back. “Let me know when you’re back on the team. I will be right in the front stands watching you.”

Jesse, Tim, and Bill were waiting for Traveller when he walked into the gym. “Where have you been?” Jesse asked throwing him the ball.
Traveller tried a jump shot. He hadn’t played since the mountain lion attack and the ball fell well short of the basket. Jesse caught it in mid-air then laid it in.
“Some one’s out of practice,” Jesse chided throwing Traveller the ball. He shot again, this time the ball bounced hard off the backboard. Traveller bunched and then tried to impel. He fell hard to the floor skidding across it.
Bill helped him up. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Traveller rubbed his elbow. “I think so,” he said. “Try bouncing the ball off the rim, Jesse.”
Jesse threw the ball off the edge of the metal. Traveller tried to think himself to where the ball was high above the rim. Again he tipped then fell to the floor. He caught himself with both hands but his butt hit hard.
Frustration etched Traveller face. Jesse helped him up again. “What’s the matter Travis?”
“I can’t impel. I feel like a piece of lead when I try.”
“Just play without impelling. Maybe it will come back to you.”
For several minutes the other three men threw Traveller the ball so he could practice shooting. Not until he started making baskets did they begin a game of two-on-two.
Traveller and Tim got the ball first. Tim cleared it by dribbling to half court. He drove to the basket with Jesse dogging him. When Bill left Traveller to prevent a lay-up, Tim passed the ball. Traveller crouched and sprung getting the ball well above the rim for a dunk.
“See,” Jesse said. “You don’t need anything but your athletic ability.”
Once Traveller adjusted to the lack of ability to impel, he discovered something. His arms and legs were stronger, more muscular from loading boxcars. His stamina had also increased, and he was faster.
Traveller was able to guard Bill so well that he wasn’t able to get a shot off. Traveller stole the ball or blocked his shots so many times that he began to pass off to Jesse as soon as he caught it. Traveller’s speed allowed him to double Jesse or intercept Bill’s pass several times. After several minutes of play, the score was six to eighteen with Traveller having made ten points. Once the alien forgot about impelling, his movements were vastly more fluid and coordinated. He shot with grace, defended with tenacity.
Jesse became so frustrated that he finally commented, “We had more of a chance when you impelled.”
Traveller smiled. He caught the ball from Tim, dribbled sideways to the basket then made a hook shot that swished. “Twenty points, we win,” he said quietly.
A loud clapping caused everyone to look at the bleachers. Willy looked back and said, “Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. I tole you a little black blood set you right.”
Jesse paired up with Tim for the next game. They were able to pass the ball and use their quickness to make the game more competitive, but Traveller was still able to thwart them enough for his team to win. When Bill scored the winning basket, the alien looked to the bleachers for approval, but Willy had gone.
With the game over, everyone took a hot shower. “Man dude, you were hot,” Jesse told Traveller.
Traveller looked worried. “But there’s something wrong with me.”
“You played better today than I’ve ever seen you,” Tim said.
“It makes me angry that I can’t impel,” Traveller stated.
“Why? What difference does it make?” asked Jesse.
“It’s the only skill I had left to prove I’m a Benwarian.”
Traveller said goodbye to his friends as they exited the gym. On the way home he tried repeatedly to impel but to no avail. It seemed the weight of his Earthly kept him rooted to its reality.

Traveller arrived at work on early Monday morning. He knocked on the foreman’s office door. “What do ya want? The door’s open,” his boss yelled.
When Traveller entered, the foreman seemed disappointed, “Oh it’s you,” he said with downcast eyes.
“May I come in? I have a few questions I want to ask you.”
“Make it quick. There’s a freight train due in ten minutes.”
“I’m taking a survey and I want to know how much education a dock foreman has.”
“I graduated from high school by the skin of my teeth. I hated school, had to work my way up through the ranks. Started here when I was seventeen years old,” he said.
“Have you read John Steinbeck?”
“Is that the name of a book?” the foreman asked.
“No, it’s the name of an author.”
“I haven’t read but a couple of books in my entire life. Let’s see, the last one I read was “Where the Red Fern Grows.” Actually, my sixth grade teacher read it to me. I hate to read. Don’t have the patience.”
“If you don’t read, how do you learn new things?” Traveller asked.
“I read the newspaper and Outdoor Life. I have a job. I don’t need to learn anything else.”
“Did you vote in the last election?” Traveller asked.
“I’ve never voted.”
“Don’t you care what happens to you?”
“Voting doesn’t make any difference one way or the other,” the foreman replied angering. “We’re done. Your shift’s starting.”

At lunchtime Traveller yelled for everyone’s attention. They ignored him and kept talking. This would never happen among Benwarians. We are taught to be civil, considerate. These humans are so primitive.

Traveller spent another sleepless night. Being shunned had hurt him. No one deserved to be shunned. He made Lori’s coffee and then made scrambled eggs and toast. When she came out for breakfast, he poured her a glass of milk then set her plate on the table.
“Breakfast again? You’re too considerate to be a male,” she said.
“What does gender have to do with being polite?” he asked puzzled.
“It shouldn’t have anything to do with it, but most males seem oblivious to anyone but themselves.”
“Is that why the people at work won’t talk to me?” asked Traveller.
“I imagine it’s because they side with the two guys you beat up.”
“But they started it!”
“Oh Traveller, that doesn’t matter. You’re not one of them. Thank God. Why did you want to talk to them?” The second she asked, she knew the answer.
“You were trying to get to know them,” she said.
“I wanted to know how many of them read books, or voted, or tried to learn new things. Only the foreman would talk to me.”
“I’m sorry. Give it a while. Maybe they’ll come around,” she said finishing her eggs. “I’ve got to go now.”
“Wait, I have something for you,” he said handing her an envelope.
“It’s your paycheck,” she said shaking her head no. “I can’t take that.”
“I have no need for money. I want you to have it. Put it in the bank. Use it to buy food and pay the rent. You must do that for me.”
“Sign it,” Lori said, “and I’ll cash it for you.”

This lunchtime Traveller sat by himself. He had made his own lunch. Peanutbutter and jelly sandwhiches, heavy on the jelly. He was just biting into the first one when he heard the foreman yell for everyone’s attention.
“Listen up guys. I have a young lady here who would like to ask you a few questions. Her name’s Lori.”
“Hey Lori,” one of the guys said.
“Go Lori!” another yelled.
“Lori,” Traveller said quietly. His eyes filled with tears.
She waited for them to be quiet. “I’m taking a survey for my Sociology class,” she said. “I’ve brought donuts for those who help me out.”
The workers cheered. When they quieted, she began, “How many of you graduated from high school?”

Traveller wanted to wake up Lori when he got home from work that night. It took all the self-control he could muster to let her sleep. He slid beneath the sheets she had put on the couch before setting his alarm. He turned the lamp off and slept for the first time in days.
It seemed that minutes later the alarm went off. Traveller jumped out of bed. He fried eight slices of bacon to extra crispy then drained the grease and wiped the pan out. Next, he made pancakes. When everything was ready, he put the food in the oven to warm then waited.
Lori awoke to the smell of bacon frying. She smiled. Lori loved her morning breakfasts with her favorite Martian, Benwarian. She put sweats on then her robe.
“Good morning,” Traveller beamed. He got up from the table where he was reading the newspaper and hugged her. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do after the great breakfasts you’ve been cooking.” She pulled the envelope from her robe pocket and handed it to him. “Here’s your money. Four-hundred thirty-seven dollars.”
Traveller grabbed both of her hands. “I will keep the thirty-seven, but you keep the rest. You must,” he said conveying how much it meant to him by his touch.
His sincerity wasn’t lost on Lori. “I’m going to cook you a special meal this Friday,” she said.
“You’re going to be late for school,” he cautioned.
“I don’t have to be there until eleven. We can enjoy our breakfast together.”
They waited until breakfast was over to discuss Lori’s interview. “Fifteen out of twenty-two of them had never voted,” Traveller began.
“Just over twenty per cent of Americans vote in the primaries, forty percent in the mid-terms with only half voting in the regular election. Many issues are decided by voter apathy,” Lori said. “That’s why a worm like Nixon was elected twice.”
Lori continued, “They don’t read. They love to hunt, fish, and go four-wheeling. Over half of them said that drinking beer is their favorite pasttime.”
“I liked it when you asked how many of them had done the dishes or housework in the past month. Only two of them raised their hand,” Traveller said.
“And yet sixteen out of twenty-two had wives that worked. That is the working-class American male. Theirs wives pay while they play,” Lori added. “Each worker had an average of three kids who will most probably grow up to be working class consumers. They’ll consume natural resources and pollute without a concern for the future.”
“But it isn’t their fault,” Traveller defended. “They just lack an education.”
“How do you educate someone who won’t read or pay attention in class?” Lori asked. “Your fellow workers will never change.”
“In Benwarian society it was a matter of pride to educate your child and enrich his or her life.”
“What about the other societies on your world?”
“They were much the same as Earthlings.”
“And isn’t that how your world was destroyed, by too much apathy?”
“So if you were an alien race looking for a home and you found Earth, what would you do Lori?” Traveller asked.
Lori looked shocked, like she’d been slapped across the face. She thought about population projections, environmental problems, and the lack of political leadership. It became abundantly clear what would have to be done. “I don’t know,” she said quietly.
Traveller nodded knowingly, “That is what scares me. The Benwarians are ready to make the tough decisions.”Chapter 33 - Back on the Team
The score of the basketball game was Idaho State 48, Montana 60 when Willy was inserted into the game. Lori, Traveller, Jesse, Tim, and Bill stood up, screamed, and stomped their feet so loudly when he got to the scorer’s table that Willy actually looked their way. Traveller caught his eyes with a look that said you will do this.
ISU’s center stood seven foot one inch tall. Montana had been double- teaming him all night. The rest of the team hadn’t been able to hit their outside shots. As a team they were shooting thirty-eight percent. Montana, however, was shooting well over fifty percent. Their star forward had twenty-eight points on twelve for eighteen shooting with four points from the foul line.
ISU’s coach had called a time-out to get Willy into the game. He called a play to go inside to the center then back out to Willy for a jump shot when Montana collapsed into the key.
The ISU guard brought the ball up and passed to the the center. When the Montana players swarmed him, he passed to Willy. Willy kept his eyes on the basket, jumped, shot and then followed through. Swish! Willy scored, the crowd roared.
Willy never heard them. He immediately got back on defense staying in front of Montana’s star forward. Willy played just off the passing lane as Montana fast-breaked down the court. This enticed the point guard to pass the ball to their main man. When he did, Willy cut into the lane and intercepted it. He then passed it to ISU’s center underneath the basket for a dunk.
Traveller and his friends jumped up from their seats cheering wildly.
Luckily no one but Lori could hear Traveller yelling, “Boni bon bon! Boni bon bon bon!” He was as proud as a new father holding his baby for the first time.
Time was running out. There was just over two minutes left when ISU went to a full court press. Montana brought the ball up court. The guard dribbled down the left side with ISU’s player fronting him. When he got in the corner Willy rushed over trapping him. The guard jumped up, tried to pass the ball, and Willy caught it in mid-air.
Willy pivoted. He threw the ball to his guard streaking down the court; he caught it in mid-stride for a lay up. Montana’s coach called a time-out. The fans were roaring, pleased that the lead had been cut to six. Willy couldn’t help but smile when he heard the words “boni, bon, bon” coming from his blood brother.
After the time out, Montana inbounded the ball. One of their guards screened Willy. Montana’s star streaked to the basket while Willy rolled off the screen. He imagined himself standing in the key to take the charge and ran to make it so. Just as he set his feet, the forward slammed into him. Willy fell to the court with his legs in front of him as he skidded on his butt clear into the photographers that were sitting just out of bounds. He watched the referee signaling a charge. Boni bon bon, he thought.
Willy got up limping. He winked at the coach as he hobbled by ISU’s bench. Montana’s star stayed with Willy, kept a hand on his chest. Willy winced encouraging his opponent to get physical and body him up.
Montana’s star had his back to the basket. Willy drove him into the screen set by an ISU guard and broke hard to the middle of the key. With his limp gone, his quickness and speed purchased him an open lane to the basket. The other guard dribbled up and threw him the ball. The Montana center came over too late but he jumped high and brought both hands down on Willy’s arms. Willy broke through the foul for two points. When he made the foul shot afterward, the crowd broke into pandemonium. Willy looked at his friends then held both arms out before running back on defense.
With a minute left, Montana went into a stall to slow the game down. Willy fronted his man waiting for a chance to make a steal. He played the passing lane in front of his man and cheated up. Watching the ball handler’s eyes when he was double-teamed, Willy anticipated a pass to the other Montana guard. When the ball was thrown across court, he intercepted it and drove hard to the basket for a lay up. The crowd went wild. After they sat back down, chants of Willy, Willy, Willy, filled the Minidome. Montana called its final timeout with ten seconds left.
Montana’s team had lost their poise. When they got the ball, the other forward ran along the baseline trying to get it inbounds. No one was able to break open. Panicked, he called time out.
The referee blew his whistle then pointed back to the Montana forward making a T with his hand. ISU’s coach wisely called upon Willy to shoot the technical. He stood at the foul line basking in the chants of Willy, Willy, Willy, before calmy shooting an all net point for the tie.
The Montana guard quickly took the ball out. When he threw it back in, it came off their star forward’s hands landing out of bounds. The referee pointed that it was ISU’s ball. He handed it to ISU’s center underneath the basket. Willy came off a screen and the center threw it to him. When two Montana players converged on him, the center stepped back in holding his arms high. Willy threw the ball. The center caught it going up for a slam dunk. The whistle sounded, the game ended. ISU had won. The Bengal bench emptied. Eleven players swarmed Willy. The stands emptied and swarmed the whole team.

Willy’s personal team had arranged to meet at Lori’s after the game. Traveller and Jesse had picked up several pizzas along with a couple of liters of pop. Bill and Tim brought a sixpack of beer.
When Willy arrived, his most fervent supporters encircled him and chanted “Willy, Willy,” and then Jesse who had had a beer shouted, “Speech, speech!”
The room grew quiet. “Man, I ain’t never had so much fun! Did y’all see me out ‘dere? I be movin’ faster than Traveller, stealing the ball, shootin’ it. Coach say he never see anyone take a game over like that. Everyone on the team be pattin’ me on the back like I a war hero.”
“Way to go Willy!” Jesse shouted after a long pull on his beer.
“I couldn’t have done it without you guyses help. Especially Lori, she’all fix my essay, helped me bring my grades up. Man, all I needed was little help from my friends. Boni, bon bon bon!”
Everyone cheered except for Jesse. He yelled, “Pizza, pizza! Boni bon bon bon!”
The boxes were laid on the kitchen table. It seemed to Traveller that a thousand hands appeared to grab the food he had purchased with the change from his pay check. It pleased him to partially repay them for all the nice things they had done for him.
When Jesse handed him a can of beverage, he took it. He popped the tab without thinking and took a drink. The first sip tasted bitter, awful. Not wanting to disappointed his friend, he took another sip, it tasted better. The next sip became a drink. The next drink became two swallows. Now that his taste buds were numb, the beer tasted delicious. No one noticed when he finished the first beer and got another from the fridge, they were too busy eating pizza.
For the first time since he had started working, Traveller relaxed. He sat at the table by himself. The rest of the group had piled plates with slices of pepperoni pizza before going into the living room. Even Jesse had forgotten about him as he stuffed his face.
This is why my comrades at work drink beer, so they can forget that they’re trading a good portion of their life for food and shelter. It’s a sedative. I don’t have to think about anything except how relaxed I feel. I can’t feel my sore muscles anymore. No wonder they drink beer every night. It’s a reward for sacrificing themselves.
Traveller’s head hung down as he stared into his beer thinking. When he looked up Lori was standing over him with her hands on her hips. “Are you sure you should be drinking that?” she asked.
“I’ve already had one little lady,” Traveller said in a perfect imitation of John Wayne.
“You’ve been watching too many movies, Tex,” she said smiling.
“Si senorita, me gusto cervesa,” he said in another perfect impersonation of an obscure character. He took a healthy gulp of beer to demonstrate.
“You sure are a pretty little philly,” he said reverting back to John Wayne’s voice.
“That beer is making you silly,” Lori concluded.
“Let’s listen to music,” Jesse yelled from the other room. He turned the stereo on. Carole King’s voice filled the house, “You just call out my name.” After the first line Lori and Traveller joined the people in the living room. Everyone sang the next line, “And you know wherever I am.” They continued singing the lines from the song. When the stereo came to the last two lines, Jesse turned it off. Without the music people eventually quit singing until only Traveller was left crooning with his eyes closed.
“Oh my God, he sounds exactly like Carole King!” Jesse exclaimed.
Traveller stopped and looked around the room embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been teaching myself to play Lori’s guitar. I’ve learned this song by heart. It’s my favorite.”
“Well go get the guitar bro’. We wanna hear you play,” Willy suggested.
Traveller looked at Lori, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I’m the one that suggested you play. I showed you where to place your hands. It’s all my fault if you fail and I take full credit for it if you succeed,” Lori said smiling.
When Traveller came back, Willy quieted everyone down. The alien strummed, tuning the guitar to his voice. He picked the strings with a beautiful improvised introduction before singing “You’ve Got a Friend.” The only difference between Traveller’s rendition and King’s was that she played the piano. He imitated her perfectly down to the intonation, timing, and syllables.
No one clapped, they were too shocked. “That was totally amazing!” Tim said finally breaking the silence.
Always the opportunist, Jesse said, “That’s our ticket. We’ll start a rock band. Can you play anything else?”
The room quieted again as Traveller started strumming. He began the song with Bob Dylan’s nasal voice before singing in his own tenor, “The answer my friend is blowing in the wind.”
When he finished, Jesse said, “Forget about imitating someone else. You can make millions with your own voice. Start growing your hair out, you’re going to be a star!”
“I get keyboards!” said Tim.
“And I’ll play the drums. Lori can do back up vocals,” Jesse said.
“I play the harmonica,” said Willy.
“You guys are jumping the gun,” Lori said. “How do you know Traveller wants to be a rock star?”
“As opposed to loading boxcars?” Traveller said. “My hair is getting longer as we speak. I can see it now; we’ll be called the “Working Class Fools.”
“I always knew we was fools,” Willy said. “Now we gonna get paid for it.”
“Beer, Willy?” Jesse tempted.
“Naw man. I’m in training.”
“Just checking,” Jesse grinned.
The group laughed and visited until well into the night. By the time it ended, the pizza was gone and they had toured the world and made millions on the music circuit. Traveller finally stood up and sang, “Turn out the lights, my friend, the party’s over.” He sounded just like Don Meredith on Monday Night Football.

Willy soon forgot all about playing in the band. After substituting in his first three games, he became a starter. Averaging twenty-four points, twelve rebounds, and six assists, he not only became a starter, but for the four games leading into the NCAA tournament, Willy became ISU’s star player. They hadn’t lost a game since he returned to the team. He was so busy playing basketball that he only saw his friends after the game when they sought him out for congradulations. Chapter 34 - The End of Working Class Fools

Lori liked the idea of being in a band so much that she traded her acoustic guitar in for an electric bass guitar. She practiced every night while Traveller was at work. The tips of her fingers gradually became calloused as she also became a credible bass player.
Jesse wasn’t allowed to bring his drums into the dormitory, but he had begged one of the school’s music teachers to allow him to keep them in the band room. It was almost always empty from four o’clock in the afternoon until six. He rarely missed practicing at that time.
Tim also practiced. He had given up playing the keyboard when he entered college, but a trip home to retrieve his Yamaha and he was back in business. He practiced before, after, and between classes in his dorm room.
Traveller continued working. With Lori’s help, he had purchased an electric guitar and amplifier. She had co-signed the loan for over a thousand dollars. Work didn’t seem so bad now that he had a purpose.
He practiced all day while she was at school or work. Of all his friends, he was the most single minded. Determined to play, he practiced for hours. Not only did he listen to tapes and play by ear, but he also taught himself to read music.
Soon Traveller was playing songs by Steppenwolf, The Doors, Jim Brown, B.B. King and Eric Clapton. He was drawn to the blues, but he also learned to play and sing a wide variety of other songs, like “The Impossible Dream” or “Send in the Clowns.” He loved Ray Charles’s rendition of “Georgia on My Mind.” He played in dark glasses mimicking the head movements and mannerisms of Ray Charles.

The band’s first practice started with an argument. “I think we need to change our name,” Lori suggested.
“Why?” Jesse said. “I like Working Class Fools.”
“So do I,” said Traveller. “Any one that works for a living is a fool, man.”
“That’s exactly why we need to change it. It’s condescending. No one wants to be called a fool,” Lori said.
“Come off it, Sis. No one will care.”
“No, I see what she means,” said Traveller. “So do you have a better name?”
“How about the Benwarian Blues Band?” Lori said.
“That’s it!” Tim exclaimed. “What do you think, Jesse?”
“I like it,” he said rattling his drums for emphasis. “We’ll be the only ones who know what a Benwarian is. Not only will we sing the blues, but our lead singer will actually be blue.”
Traveller broke into song, “Can’t get next to you. It’s makin’ me blue. But what can I do? You’ll never be true.”
“If that isn’t John Lee Hooker’s voice,” said Jesse, “I’m deaf.”
“Would you like to hear Hank Williams? I’ve been listening to him all week,” Traveller said as everyone tuned their instruments.
“Go for it,” Jesse encouraged.
Traveller picked up an old cowboy hat from behind his amplifier. When he placed it on his head, his whole demeanor change. He was now Hank Williams. “You’re cheatin’ heart will tell on you, it’ll make you sad, it’ll make you blue.”
The whole group stopped what they were doing to listen. For over a half hour, the alien performed Hank Williams in a flawless imitation of his voice and actions. When he finished the group applauded.
Lori, ever the task master, brought everyone back to the purpose of the rehearsal. “That was an amazing performance, but we have a whole list of songs to get through if we’re ever going to be ready to perform together. Let’s start with “Magic Carpet Ride.”
“John Kay,” Traveller said. He replaced his cowboy hat with a long haired black wig before slapping sunglasses on. They practiced the song several times before moving on to “The Pusher”, “Good Morning Little School Girl” concluding with “Born to Be Wild.” Traveller left the band behind when it came to his favorite song.
“I’ve got this one,” he told his friends. “Head out on the highway, lookin’ for adventure, in whatever comes our way.” This song so reminded him of his own decision to leave the comforts of his culture and the confines of Ship that he had to perform it alone, unfettered by the missed notes and restarts of the band. When he finished, he said, “I’m going to take a break. You guys practice the song for a while on your own.”
Traveller left the garage and walked back to Lori’s. He rushed up the stairs and then into the kitchen. He opened the refridgerator, pulled a beer out, and then drank almost half of it before coming up for air. He slapped the can down on the table before turning the stereo on. He listened to the Doors as he finished his beer. He had learned to relish beer now that he considered himself to be a working man. He drank another while listening to the rest of the album. When he left the apartment, it was as Jim Morrison.
The Door’s portion of the program started with “Light My Fire.” When they finished, Traveller pulled the microphone from the stand and staggered around, “No one gets out of here alive,” he screamed. They played the next song, “Road House Blues” before launching into “Ship of Fools.”
“Nobody gonna come up and love me?” Traveller asked signaling the end of the Doors songs. “Wake up!” he screamed, “Wake up!”
Traveller paused dramatically before wailing, “Bring out your dead. Bring out your dead.” It sounded like he had brought the stereo from the house so true was his imitation of Jim Morrison.
Lori watched as Traveller’s eyes blurred into a drugged expression of depression before singing, “This is the end. My only friend, the end . . .” He ended the song with his voice reverberating.
“And with that it’s time to call it a wrap,” Lori said. “It’s two in the morning.”

It became unbundantly clear to everyone in the band that they had hitched themselves to a great talent. He had given them a list of songs that included the Beatles, Eric Burden and the Animals, and Bob Dylan to prepare for the next rehearsal. To a person they knew that they would have to practice long and hard to keep up with this star from the stars.Chapter 35 - The NCAA Tournament

The Western Regionals were scheduled to begin on March, 20th 1976. ISU was seeded 8th as winner of the Big Sky Conference. They would play the perennial powerhouse UCLA in the opening round. On the day before the game, Willy was so excited that he tried getting rid of his nervous energy by walking the six blocks to Lori’s. As he walked up the stairs, he could hear Paul McCartney singing, “Yesterday.” The music stopped abruptly when he knocked on the door.
Traveller pulled the door open. When he saw Willy, he said “It’s the man. How are you?”
“I be fine. Y’all didn’t have to turn the music off on my account,” Willy replied.
“I didn’t have the music on. That was me.”
“Yeah right and I’m Elvin Hayes.”
“No really. Come in and I’ll show you.” Traveller brought Willy into the living room. He sat down and sang, “Yesterday when I was young so many different songs were waiting to be sung . . .”
When he finished, Willy whistled, “Man that sound just like him.”
“Thank you,” Traveller said. “So what’s going on with you?”
“I’m all nervous, big game tomorrow,” Willy answered.
“I can help you with that. First of all, take five deep breaths and let the air out slowly. Imagine that the evil demon of nervousness leaves with each breath,” Traveller instructed.
Willy did as suggested and then Traveller had him lay on the couch. “Close your eyes,” Traveller said. “Now imagine yourself making a lay up. Hear the crowd roar,” the alien mimicked the noise with his amplifier and guitar.
“Oh yeah, now you be talkin’,” Willy said.
Traveller took Willy through a progression of imagined scores, steals, rebounds and assists accompanied by crowd noises and adulation. When he finished, Traveller sang in a blues voice and rhythm, “Yeah you’re going to be good. Make the crowd go wild. ‘Cause everyone knows, you’re a wild child.”
“Man, I be a legend in my own mind,” Willy joked.
“My only friend from home taught me that the key to success is to stay calm, confident, and under control. Nothing ever seemed to bother him too much. I never could beat him with a sensory saber. He often told me that the only thing that can disrupt your physical abilities is your mind. Meditate on that before the game,” Traveller advised.

From the opening tip of the UCLA game, Willy played well. He played a smart game, passing off to teammates from the double team, moving constantly when he didn’t have the ball, blocking out and being in position for the rebound. His jump shot from the perimeter and hook shot on the outside enabled him to go 8 of 11 in the first half. With his foul shots, he had scored a total of twenty points. The score when the buzzer sounded ending the second quarter was ISU 42, UCLA 40.
When play resumed, the two teams seesawed back and forth in a narrow scoring range. Willy concentrated on playing team ball garnering rebounds, playing defense, and making assists even though UCLA kept a body on him. He quit looking to score until the final two minutes of the game. UCLA led by two points, 60 to 58.
ISU’s point guard brought the ball up, the number two guard screened for Willy allowing him to come open at the top of the key and shoot a jump shot that was all net, game tied. When UCLA threw the ball in, Willy moved up to trap the guard. When the UCLA player jumped up to throw the ball, Willy intercepted it, drove to the basket and scored as two UCLA players crashed into him for a foul. The crowd exploded. ISU was leading the top seed in the tournament even though Willy missed the foul shot.
On the next play UCLA’s guard threw the ball into the center who pivoted and threw it down court to a forward. The forward threw it back to a guard as he crossed half court. ISU fell back into a zone defense fronting UCLA’s big men. After several seconds, the ball handler tried to penetrate before pulling up for a long range jump shot. It rimmed off. Willy rebounded it, dribbled to half court, and then threw it to a guard. The team made several passes playing keep away and milking the clock. With ten seconds left, Willy caught the ball. A UCLA forward crashed into him slamming him to the floor. A sickening thunk could be heard as his head hit the hardwood. A loud moan escaped from the crowd. The referees immediately called an injury time-out.
Willy lay prostrate with his arms and legs spread out. The trainer and a medical doctor broke through his teammates moving them back so that they could examine the injured player. The doctor broke open a vial of smelling salts. When he placed it under Willy’s nose, Willy shook his head and stirred. He sat for a few minutes before two of his teammates helped him to his feet.
“Are you okay? Can you shoot the foul shots?” his coach asked.
“Man, I’ve already made them,” Willy said.
The crowd roared as Willy weaved his way to the foul line. “How many fingers?” the referee asked holding up three.
“Naw man, I shoot with both hands,” Willy said taking the ball. He stood looking at the basket before turning and winking at Traveller sitting in the front row. He swished his first shot and then the second.
UCLA quickly took the ball out with ten seconds remaining. ISU slowed the ball’s advance down enough to take a few seconds off the clock. Careful not to foul, the ISU players allowed the UCLA guard to get the ball inside to the center. He dunked it just before the buzzer sounded. With a two point lead, ISU won! The stands emptied filling the court with pandemonium yet again.

The morning after the game, Willy could barely move. He had been banged into, elbowed, and fouled so many times that his muscles felt like walking a tight rope with pain centers on either side. He lay in bed with his eyes open until Jesse knocked on his door.
“Who is it?” Willy asked.
“It’s Jesse, Bro’. You okay?”
“Hell no. Get the dorm monitor to let you in so you can help me up,” Willy said. He heard Jesse leave for a minute and then come back. The knob clicked, the door opened, and Jesse came in. He pulled his friend out of bed then helped him dress.
When Willy was ready, Jesse helped him walk to the training center. Once there, Jesse supported him as he climbed into the whirlpool to loosen his muscles and soak.
Willy looked at the clock. Only six hours until the next game. Dang, I hope I can move by that time.

Willy had loosened up by game time. But, like the rest of his teammates, the game with UCLA had taken its toll. They had had to play so hard that they were leg weary. Willy’s arms felt like lead weights.
Their next opponent, the second seeded Arizona, opened the game with a full court press. They trapped ISU’s point guard on the first play of the game. When he tried to pass the ball, it was stolen then driven to the basket for a lay up.
The score was 20-6 before the Bengals loosened up enough to play with Arizona, but by then the rout was on. The score went to 32-12 before Willy was able to score. The first two jump shots he had taken around the top of the key were both air balls. On his third shot he gave a head fake then drove to the basket for a lay up. Arizona quickly threw the ball back in for a fast break on a made shot. They scored before the Bengals had a chance to get back on defense. By halftime the score was 40-22.
The Bengals came out energized in the second half. They controlled the tip with the center getting the ball underneath for two points. ISU’s point guard stole the inbound pass then threw it to Willy going hard to the basket for two more points. Arizona quickly called a timeout.
The Wildcats screened for their point guard on the inbounds play. He caught the ball and threw it down court to their center waiting under the basket. There was a resounding thung when he jammed it through the hoop. Arizona resumed its full court pressure which quickly deflated the come back. ISU missed its next shot. When an Arizona forward got the ball off a long rebound, he threw it to the Wildcat point guard for a layup. The score moved to 44-26. By the end of the third quarter the score stood at 54- 32.
Willy’s teammates rallied around their coach during the break. “You’ve got to keep fighting. There’s still time to dig this one out,” he said.
“Yeah, let’s do this,” said Willy.
ISU got the ball out of bounds. Willy ran the baseline and made a cut off a screen to pop open in the key. He made a graceful hook shot that swished.
Arizona kept up its relentless pressure. They ran a fast break off of Willy’s basket scoring yet again. Even Willy was behind the play trotting up as the ball bounced out of bounds. The Bengal coach called a timeout. “New strategy,” he said. “Throw the ball inside to Willy, when the double team comes, he’ll throw the ball to whoever’s open. Set screens for one another and score, but you’ve got to get back on defense!”
The coach’s plan worked the first time with the off forward making a jump shot, but the Bengals weren’t able to get back to defend. When Arizona made yet another fast break point, the score stood at 58-36. The Bengals missed their next shot with Arizona getting the rebound. The point guard held his hand up signaling for the Wildcats to slow the game down.
The Bengals were spent. They faithfully chased the ball, but were never able to cut into the lead. At the two minute mark, the Arizona coach put in the reserves. The final buzzer sounded with Arizona winning 64-40. Willy came off the court with his head down, so disappointed that he didn’t even join his teammates as they shook hands with the Wildcats.
It wasn’t until he felt familiar arms around his shoulders that he looked up. “There is no shame in trying your hardest,” Traveller said. “ISU would never have made it this far without you.” The two men hugged and patted each other. Willy felt better. He ran to the back of the hand-shaking line with his head up.
When the line ended, someone grabbed Willy’s arm from behind. It was Arizona’s head coach, Fred Snowden. He shook Willy’s hand and said, “You’ve got a future ahead of you son. Don’t let anything keep you from it.”

Chapter 36 - A Celebration

Two weeks later, a ceremony was scheduled for the Idaho State Bengals to receive the Big Sky Championship trophy. The Benwarian Blues Band had auditioned to play the opening set. They were chosen on the strength of Traveller’s imitations and ability to play lead guitar. His backup players had improved substantially, but there were quite a few songs where their accompaniment didn’t measure up despite the hours of practice. On those songs, Traveller displayed his virtuoso talents.
No one said anything to Willy. The band wanted to surprise him. The concert was scheduled on the Friday before spring break. A stage and dance floor had been set up in the Minidome.
On the day before, the band scheduled an eight hour practice. Jesse, Tim, and even Lori gave up studying for tests on the following day to make sure they were ready to play.
Tim arrived late for their garage practice. The band stopped tuning up when he said, “Hey everybody. I have someone I want you to meet. This is Derek. I invited him to play with us. He is a fine fiddle player.”
“Hey Derek,” Jesse said. “Don’t worry he’s not going to play at our first concert. He just wants to sit in to see if he can contribute anything.”
“A friend of Tim’s is a friend of mine. I love the violin,” said Traveller.
Derek didn’t join in until the practice progressed. When he felt comfortable, he would listen to a song and come in after he had the tune. Traveller immediately fell in love with the sound and his playing.
When practice ended, Jesse set a small cooler in the middle of the floor. “Let’s have a beer and talk,” he said taking one out and popping it open.
“Boni, bon, bon,” Traveller said pulling one from its plastic ring then pulling the tab off.
“Did you get some days off?” Tim asked as he joined them.
“Yes, my boss wasn’t happy, but he looked at the delivery schedule and it’s a slack week,” Traveller answered.
“We’ll leave the Saturday afternoon after the concert,” said Jesse. “I can’t wait.”

On the night of their first gig, Traveller came out dressed in an extremely baggy beige suit. He wore tennis shoes with his hair slicked back. The stage remained empty as he sang while dancing with a lamp replete with a lamp shade the color of his suit.
He began, “Is this really my first concert? My God! How did I get here? Did I fall from the stars or glide in from the heavens?”
At this point in his song Lori came in, picked up her bass guitar and started playing. “And the humans I find, are they really so kind?”
Tim entered next joining in with his keyboard as Traveller sang, “I came from the heavens to get away. I can’t get back so I’m here to stay. Yeah, I’m here to stay.”
Jesse climbed up from the back of the stage. The spot light caught him at the same time as Traveller intensified his voice in a driving rhythm, “Watch out people, don’t know what you’ve done. A master race gonna ruin your fun!”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are the Benwarian Blues Band, here to give it back to you, the fun that is,” Traveller said with the crowd screaming. “But watch out, all hell’s going to break loose.”
When the band launched into the Door’s version of “Gloria,” The crowd went wild. They sang and clapped their hands, moved with the rhythm.
The crowd cheered long after the song ended. “Please, please. I have another song. A slow song by the Beatles.”
After the audience quieted, Traveller plucked “Yesterday” on his guitar before singing, “Yesterday when I was young. So many different songs were waiting to be sung . . .”
Traveller danced and weaved using wigs and hats to change his persona as he performed the Benwarian Blues Band repertoire of music. The students listening were so captivated by his talent that they quieted with awe. No one danced, no one even thought about it. They simply sat and marveled.
Willy watched with the rest of them. He had arrived late so he hadn’t seen the introductions under the lights, but the lead singer seemed familiar for some reason. The spotlight stayed on him, primarily, so he wasn’t able to identify the rest of his friends.
It wasn’t until the end that it dawned on him. These words filled the Minidome, “Willy shot the ball, Willy shot the ball, Willy shot the ball , watch the other team fall. The crowd was screamin’ cause he played like a demon. Go Willy go, go Willy go, go Willy go, go, go, go.”
“Get out of the way, here he comes. He’ll bowl you over onto your bums. He’ll stuff the ball into the hoop as he leads the way for his troops. Go, go, go, go Willy. Go Willy go. This Big Sky Champ, is a training camp.”
As hard as he tried, Willy couldn’t hide from the spotlight that searched the crowd. Man, stupid alien, he thought with the crowd screaming. Could there be a more corny song?
The band performed two more songs after Willy’s. Finally, Traveller said, “You’ve been a great audience. We hope to see you ag…”
Shouts of encore, encore drowned him out. People stood giving him an ovation. Those with lighters or matches held up flames and yelled more, more. When the lights went up, people stomped their feet so hard that it sounded like rumbling thunder.
Traveller nodded at the light technician who darkened the dome then spotlighted Traveller. “One more,” he said prompting another deafening roar from his instant fans.
“Everyone up and dance. One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock rock . . . We gonna rock around the clock tonight.” When the song ended Traveller quickly left the stage while several volunteers dismantled the band’s gear to make way for the following set.
Just off stage, the singer for the next band jumped in Traveller’s face and asked, “How in the hell are we going to follow that?”
At the same time someone grabbed his elbow. “Here’s my card. I’m the owner of the Fifth Amendment. Give me a call if you want a steady gig. My name is Sam Jenkins,” he said shaking hands.
Lori had just come up behind Traveller. “What kind of money are we talking about?”
“Are you his agent?” Sam asked.
Lori looked at Traveller. When he nodded, she said, “Yes.”
“A hundred dollars a night to start. If the crowds are big enough, I’ll bump it up to a hundred-fifty.”
“He works swing shift during the week,” Lori said.
“He can play on Saturday night only or maybe I can make arrangements with his boss for Friday. Anyway, give me a call if you’re interested,” Sam said before disappearing into the crowd.

Chapter 33 - Return to Jim Sage Mountain

The next day at noon, Jesse showed up at his sister’s in a yellow and white International four-wheel drive Scout that he had borrowed from his dad. Willy was riding shotgun. The back was loaded with sleeping bags, a tent, groceries, and a couple cases of beer in a separate cooler.
They loaded the sleeping bag Traveller had borrowed from Lori along with her acoustic guitar and a duffel bag of clothes. Tim pulled up just as they were finishing. Within minutes the Scout was loaded to the gills with everyone’s stuff.
“Yahoo! This is going to be fun!” Jesse enthused backing out of Lori‘s parking spot and then peeling out.
“Yeah, better not be no cougar waitin’ for us,” Willy countered.
“Why Willy? We’ll just let him eat you. I hear cougars like dark meat,” Jesse teased.
“Honkie mo’fo’, I’ll give you some dark meat, I feed y’all a five-fingered knuckle sandwich y’all keep givin’ me crap.”
“Please not while he’s driving,” Traveller said. “I don’t think my cougar friend will bother us this time. You did bring a gun, didn’t you Jesse?”
“Got a .357 magnum in my backpack,” he answered.
“Oh Lord, dat’s all I need, a ride with an angry white man and a .357 magnum,” Willy complained.
“Don’t worry Willy. I won’t shoot you unless you try to make me eat that knuckle sandwich, never did like dark meat.”
“You two sound like a married couple the way you’re fightin’ all the time,” Tim said.
“I like da girls not some ugly ol’ white honkie with buck teeth,” Willy countered.
“Kiss me Willy,” Jesse said smiling.
They bantered back and forth until Jesse had put Pocatello behind them. When the barbs had been exhausted, a silence ensued. After a while, Willy reminisced, “Man that was some concert you guys put on . . .”
Once Willy started it, they shared memories until they exited the freeway ninety miles later and headed south. “You’re not going to stop and say hello to your parents?” Tim asked Jesse.
“Yeah right. We’ll stop so my mom can check the cooler and take our beer,” Jesse answered. He turned to Tim, “Break out the bean dip and Fritos, let’s have a snack.”
For the rest of the ride, Tim kept Jesse supplied with Fritos mounded with refrieds.

The sun rode low on the sky by the time they made it to the Jim Sage turn off. A warmer than average spring coupled with the wind had left the mountain road into the camp dry. Soon they were bouncing their way to the hills that sat before Jim Sage Mountain like the toes of a giant.
“Man, I wonder if that old rattlesnake be sleepin’?” Willy said.
“He had better be, I hate snakes,” Tim said.
“Don’t they get all grouchy and strike at anything in the springtime?” asked Jesse.
“Fangs likes me. He’s not going to be grouchy. In fact, I can’t wait to have him around my neck. I love the way he feels, dry yet slimy. When he moves, it’s like getting a massage,” Traveller said defending his serpentine friend.
Willy eyes grew wide as he thought about having a snake slithering around his neck. “Crazy alien. You were probably playin’ tag with that cougar when he clawed you all up! I can hear it now. Here kitty, come sharpen your claws on me so I can get some stupid college kids to carry my lead butt down the mountain. I know y’all did it to get some decent black blood in ya’.”
“That’s where I picked up the blues Willy. Earth became a lot sadder for me once I became a part of it. I’m grounded now and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Traveller replied.
Jesse pulled into to the grassy parking area. “Tim and I will set up the tent. You two gather firewood,” he said.

Dusk descended bringing subdued lighting with a red-silhouetted west just as the boys finished setting up camp. “Oh my God!” Jesse exclaimed.
“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.
“You’ll never believe it! It’s beer thirty. My favorite time of the day,” said Jesse. He opened beers for everyone except Willy. “Do you want one?”
“Shoot no, I get caught drinkin’ I’ll be off the team again, this time for good,” Willy said.
“No one here will ever say anything,” Jesse tempted.
“Won’t have to. I be saying it all to myself,” Willy said. “You guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll cook us some hotdogs later. Right now I’ll just have me some soady pop.” Willy pulled a coke from the cooler, popped the tab and drank.
Tim laid some larger sticks over the kindling in the fire pit. He put the empty box from the beer case underneath some more sticks then held a lighter under the frayed edges of cardboard causing them to flare up. Soon, lively flames sprouted and spread into a bright, dancing fire.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” said Willy.
“I’ll drink to that,” Traveller agreed raising his beer to the fire before talking a drink.
Tim sat back down on one of the logs they had placed by the pit and said, “Nothing like a nice warm fire.” He took a drink of beer also, turning when he heard the crumpling of metal behind him.
Jesse belched then threw an empty can into the recycle box and said, “Dang, I must have drank that one too fast. Oh well, better have another.” Jesse rummaged in the back of the Scout returning to the fire with a joint of marijuana. He sat down on a log, lit it, and took a hit.
“Here man,” he said handing it to Traveller who passed it to Tim with out smoking any. Tim took a hit then handed it back to Jesse who took another hit. Jesse handed it to Tim who took a hit and then the eternal pot smoking progression started. Jesse took a hit, Tim took a hit, Jesse took a hit, and Tim took a hit. Jesse looked at Tim and started laughing halfway through the joint. Tim didn’t know why he was laughing, but it was funny so he joined him.
“Man, you silly be all smoking’ that wacky tobacco,” Willy said.
“Want some?” Jesse asked.
“Hell no.”
“How ‘bout you Traveller. Jesus and his followers used to smoke it,” Jesse asserted.
“No they didn’t,” said Tim. “What makes you say that?”
“Haven’t you ever read or heard those stories about Jesus changing water to wine and bread falling from the sky? You think those people weren’t on something? Had to be marijuana,” Jesse replied handing the joint to Traveller who had just gotten another beer.
“There is nothing in the Bible that says they were smoking grass,” Tim said incredulously as he watched Traveller take a hit and choke.
“Man, the priests edited that part out when they wrote the Bible,” Jesse said.
“You’re full of it,” Tim said handing the joint back to Traveller without taking a hit. This time the alien took a deep drag on the reefer holding it in.
“Oh wow man, that’s cosmic,” he said when he realized a rush on his third hit.
Jesse and Tim lost it. They laughed so hard that they fell backward over the logs they were sitting on. “Can, can you imagine smoking a joint with Jesus?” Jesse said. “He’d look at you and say, I’m just making all this stuff up so I can be famous and scare the hell out of little kids if they don‘t behave.”
“No he wouldn’t,” Tim said searching the sky for lightning. “You’re going to go to Hell!”
“What? Jesus can’t take a joke? That’s the trouble with church. It’s all hell and damnation without a trace of humor,” Jesse complained. “What do you think, Travis? I’ve seen you reading the Bible more than once.”
By now, Traveller had taken several puffs off of the joint. “What? What do I think about what?”
“Jesus,” Jesse said.
“Which version? There are four of them, man.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mathew, John, Luke and Paul. Each of the four gospels paints a different picture of Jesus,” Traveller answered. “That tells me they were written at different times by different people.”
“So what do you think about any of it?” Tim asked.
“I think that the Bible is so nebulous, vague, and archaic that it’s subject to misinterpretation. That’s why there are countless denominations, all professing to be Christian. I think that when Jesus is reputed to have said that no one comes to the father but through me, it’s really the priests setting themselves up to be demigods. A lot of Christ’s teachings are similar to Buddhism, a much older religion. I think Jesus might be a white man’s Buddha.
“I mean really man, why didn’t Jesus visit Benwar or for that matter China or India? Why were white Anglo-Saxons the only one to receive the message? It seems to me that all Christianity does is make people feel superior and judgmental. What do you think Willy?”
“Jesus is just all right with me. He healed the sick and lame, fed the poor. Jesus told people not to judge others that that was God’s job. I love my Jesus. He wash my sins away, make me whole again. Somebody don’t want to believe in him that’s their problem,” Willy said.
“Jesus certainly wasn’t a pot smoking hippy. I believe in him too,” Tim said.
“I can’t feel it,” said Jesse.
“Never came to my planet,” said Traveller, “but if he would have, I would have shared this joint with him.”
Tim, Jesse, and Traveller laughed maniacally. Willy shook his head, “You silly asses. I brought some Bratwursts. Maybe if I cook ‘em up and eat you guys’ll come to your senses.”
Willy had the cooler on the endgate of the scout. He took the Brats out and double-wrapped them in tinfoil. “Man, these gonna be so good maybe you see Jesus, Jesse. Then maybe y’all wake up and see the light of the Lord.” Willy placed the wrapped Brats in some coals on the outskirts of the fire.
“Do you really think he walked on water Willy?” Traveller asked.
“Does it matter? He’all tried to bring us closer to God, tried to get us to be kind to one another.”
Jesse came over to Willy and threw his arms around him, “I love you man!” Jesse joked.
“Stinkin’ Jesse,” Willy said pushing him away. “Go drink your beer on the other side of the fire. Leave me alone for I stick a hot Brat where the sun don’t shine. Every thing a joke with you.”
“I refuse to take life seriously. It’s just too damned depressing. ‘Wailing and teeth gnashing did he promise us, the laughing ones,’ Frederick Nieztche wrote that about Jesus.”
“Whoa! Jesse knows a quote by Nieztche. We know where he learned that,” Tim said.
“Why are we talking about Jesus anyway? It’s spring break, time to laugh and have fun,” Jesse said.
“Stupid Jesse. You brought it up,” said Tim.
The smell of cooking sausages filled the air causing four mouths to water in anticipation. Willy opened the tin foil a crack to see if they were done before using a shovel to remove them from the coals. He placed the wraps on the endgate. “I know how to get you heathens to shut up. Feed you some sausage. I made potato salad, too. There’s potato chips here. Come and get it.”
Jesse and Tim fixed their plates slathering the Brats resting in their buns with catsup and mustard. They piled their plates high with chips and salad then returned to the fire.
“You gonna eat Travis?” asked Willy.
“Yeah, I’ll get a plate in a minute. Let me finish my beer,” he said.
“I’ll fix you one Bro’,” Willy said.
A minute later, he handed Traveller a plate. The alien had never eaten Bratwurst or been afflicted with a camping appetite or been high with the munchies. When he bit into the sausage, the flavor exploded inside his mouth, but it was more than the smoky taste that made the Brats so good, it was the texture of the outer skin crunching as he chewed along with the sweet catsup and tangy mustard that made them acroluminous. These things are acroluminous! By the universe, how did I come to be sitting by a fire in the middle of nowhere with three human beings eating sausage? he thought. He took another bite. This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted! It’s all a dream. I know I’m going to wake up and be back on Ship.
Traveller was so captivated by the Bratwurst and his thoughts that he didn’t notice when Willy sat down beside him on the log. “You okay, Bro’?” Willy asked.
“I know where the heaven you guys are always talking about is now. It’s right here by the fire eating the wonderful food you have cooked. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, man”
“Does that mean you like it?” asked Jesse.
“It is acroluminous, man!”
“Try the potato salad,” Jesse said with his mouth full of it. A small piece of pickle clung to his lip.
Traveller took up his spoon. He captured some salad then closed his mouth around it. Jesse watched the look of pleasure spread across Traveller’s face as he chewed. Suddenly his alien friend exclaimed, “Say Jesus! Say Jesus with me one time!”
His friends quickly put their food down then looked at each other for timing and exclaimed, “Jesus!”
“Say it again. Jesus!” Traveller said now that he was in the evangelical mood.
“Jesus!” his friends responded.
“One more time. Jesus!”
“Jesus!” everyone yelled again.
“The spirit of the food moved me,” Traveller said in his best Jimmy Swaggart voice. A man that was often on TV Sunday mornings. Even Willy, the most serious about Jesus, laughed at his joke.
“Man, I be going to Hell with all the rest of ya’,” he said.
“Brother, there is something seriously wrong with your God or Jesus if you are condemned to Hell for what you believe in. The priests just slipped that part in to make people obey their authority and pay their tithe. So I say you’re my friends because you treat me right. Can I hear you say it with me one time?” Traveller preached, looking every bit like the crying, cajoling Swaggart.
“You’re my friends because you treat me right,” his friends repeated.
“Now I’m not going to ask you what you believe before I ask you if you’re hungry,” alien Swaggart said waiting for the echo from his congregation and when it came he continued. “Not going to check what color you are or what planet you’re from before I ask you if your thirsty, or tired, or cold, or sick,” again Traveller paused waiting for the response. This time the line was too long for them to be in unison and they didn’t say it loud enough to please Brother Swaggart so he raised his hands to the heavens with his eyes closed and tears streaming.
“Give them the strength to remember their lines dear God,” he implored the heavens.
“I said, ‘Not going to check what color you are before I ask you if you’re thirsty’,” Traveller said shrewdly shortening the line so his followers could yell it to perfection. When they did he said, “Bless you Jesus!”
Traveller deflated, his demeanor changed as he said quietly, “I’m going to love you because we share the same planet.”
“I’m going to love you because we share the same planet,” Willy and Tim repeated.
“Anyone want a chocolate chip cookie?” Jesse asked causing everyone to laugh. He passed the package around relieved that Jimmy Swaggart had left. He hated money grubbing televangelists.
“Well, we learned something tonight,” Jesse pronounced as everyone ate their cookies.
“What’s that?” asked Tim.
“Travis would make a great pot smoking preacher,” Jesse replied.
“Amen to that. I’m goin’ to bed,” said Willy.
“Yeah, I’m tired too. Some of us have to work for a living,” said Traveller. “Good night.”
Willy and Traveller retired to the tent, each to his own sleeping bag. They fell asleep to the sound of Tim and Jesse drinking beer and giggling.

Chapter 34 - A Race to the Spaceship

Willy was the first one out of bed the next morning. He had a fire burning bright with coffee brewing when Traveller finally came out of the tent. It was nine o’clock.
“Good morning,” Willy said.
“Good morning Bro’.”
“You probably don’t get up much earlier than this, workin’ the swing shift and all.”
“That’s right. I have a feeling we’ll be waiting a while for Tim and Jesse to get out of bed,” Traveller surmised.
“They be partying’ till two in the morning’. Lawd they gonna be hungover,” Willy agreed.
“Stinkin’ Jesse kept passing gas all night,” Traveller complained. “The tent smells like an outhouse. I sure wish Tim hadn’t fed him all that bean dip.”
Willy laughed, “White people smell bad enough as it is, Bro’. Don’t need no help.”
It was another hour and a half before Tim stumbled out of bed. Jesse followed a half hour later. He staggered out with blood shot eyes. His clothes were rumpled from having slept in them. “Man somebody hit me in the head with a sledge hammer,” he complained. “I feel like crap.”
Jesse staggered to the cooler. He got a beer out and opened it. “Here’s to the hair of the dog. Beer, the breakfast of champions,” he said guzzling a good portion of it down.
“It’s already late, Jesse. We are going to leave within the half hour so don’t get too carried away,” Traveller cautioned.
“Yes Mama Alien,” Jesse quipped.
“Tell you what smart boy; we’ll race you two to the ship. The minorities against the white boys,” Willy said.
“Travis isn’t a minority,” Jesse said.
“I am the smallest minority on the planet. There are only three other Benwarians in the world.”
“You’re right; we can put you in the alien nerd minority. Tim and I will beat you to the ship and prove once and for all white superiority. Okay you’re on,” Jesse said. “Let’s do this.”
The young men loaded their day packs with food and water. When everyone was ready, Traveller explained the race, “This is a Benwarian team race. I’ll tie myself to Willy. Jesse you tie yourself to Tim.” He pulled two ropes from the back of the scout. “As a team, you have to remain tied together or you’re disqualified. The first team to touch the space pod wins.”
“What are me and Tim going to get if we win?” Jesse asked.
“Sobered up,” said Traveller. “Ready?”
When Jesse nodded his head, Willy said, “Go!”
Jesse took off at a jog with Tim behind. Traveller and Willy followed at a more leisurely pace.
“No sense getting in a hurry,” Traveller said. “Jesse isn’t sober enough to pace himself.”
“That’s right. Slow and steady wins the race,” Willy agreed.
They headed west along the base of the mountain until coming to the game trail that led upward. Traveller went just fast enough to keep Jesse in sight. He couldn’t tell, but it looked like Tim was being pulled up the hill by his teammate.
For the first half hour, Jesse and Tim were able to put distance between themselves and their pursuers, but then the night of partying began to weigh on them. Traveller’s relentless pace had put him and Willy within thirty yards of them over the next half hour.
Tim took the lead when he saw that Traveller and Willy had closed. As the teams came to the trail through the shale, they were within touching distance. Traveller could smell stale beer mingled with Jesse’s flatulence.
“My turn Bro’” Willy said. I’m not smellin’ that stuff leaking from Jesse’s butt any mo’.” He took the lead position before picking up the pace.
Willy burst past Tim with Traveller right behind.
At that moment, Jesse stumbled and fell. “Timeout!” he called. “I hurt myself.” He was holding his ankle writhing in the middle of the trail. His chest heaved; sweat drenched his clothes and face.
Traveller and Willy stopped their ascent. Traveller turned hurrying to the aid of his friend. When he knelt to examine the injured ankle, Jesse moaned, “Don’t touch me. Just let me get my breath.”
Fifteen minutes later, Jesse’s breathing had returned to normal. “Okay Travis, you can look at it now.”
Traveller positioned himself facing Jesse. He sat down placing the injured ankle that rested in the heavy hiking boot in his lap. “Ah, be gentle!” Jesse cautioned wincing.
Traveller put his fingers on the boot’s shoe strings and started to untie them. Before the alien could react, Jesse rose up on both arms and pushed Traveller in the chest with his foot thrusting him onto the shale at the side of the trail.
He landed on his back. The momentum of the push kept him sliding on the flat rocks. When the rope tightened, it jerked Willy off of his feet. He landed with his palms out on the loose shale following Traveller down the hill. Neither man could gain purchase to stop their descent. Both of them were able to turn to slide on their rear ends as they cascaded down the steep mountainside.
“My foot slipped,” Jesse yelled after them. He turned to Tim to say, “Minorities are stupid. Let’s get out of here.”
“Stinkin’ Jesse!” Willy called after them pulling the sound down the mountain with him.
“Slow down and keep a steady pace this time,” Tim said. Before resuming their journey, they waited until both their rivals slid to a stop several hundred yards down the mountain. When Traveller and Willy stood up unharmed, Jesse let Tim set the pace upward.

At the bottom of the shale, Traveller helped Willy to his feet. They dusted each other off. “I’m gonna smack that fakin’ honkie. Smell like a skunk, act like a coyote. Idiot could’ve killed us,” Willy said.
“I’ll take the lead. Maybe we can catch them,” Traveller said. Before Willy had a chance to reply, the rope grew taut and he was pulled forward.
The alien powered up the trail with long strides and Willy in tow.
It took over thirty minutes to regain the top of the shale slope where Jesse had tricked and kicked them. “Gotta rest,” Willy panted.
“Five minutes,” Traveller said breathing rhythmically. He watched his watch until time expired then pulled Willy up. They wound their way through the sagebrush and pinion pines at an even quicker pace than before.
It took another forty-five minutes to get through the forested area. When Traveller and Willy burst through a copse of trees, they could see Jesse and Tim making their way through the rocks a hundred yards farther up the trail.
“We will never hear the end of it if Jesse beats us to the pod,” Traveller told Willy. “Two minutes to rest,” he continued with an eye on his watch.
“Damn cheater. If I get close enough, I’ll tackle him, twist his ankle all up so he knows not to try that again,” Willy said between breaths. “Dang, my lungs be burnin’ worse than they was when I be chasin’ that Arizona forward all over the court.” His chest heaved, sweat poured down his face, arms, and back.
Traveller checked his watch, “Time is up!” he said taking off again.
“Linclon freed the slaves, Mr. Driver Sir,” Willy complained when the rope pulled at his waist jerking him forward.
Twenty minutes later they arrived at the part of the trail that cut to the right. The path led due west. They had closed to within fifty yards of Jesse and Tim. The space pod rested only a half mile farther along the trail.
Traveller increased his pace. He, too, was drenched in sweat. His mouth was opened as he breathed in and out. Jesse’s got heart, I’ll give him that he thought with admiration.
Traveller’s brisk pace brought them to within twenty yards when they got to the straight stretch that led to the pod. Jesse glanced back spotting them. He sprinted in front of Tim and took the lead running.
Traveller and Willy broke into a run also. They moved to within ten yards as the pod got closer. At five yards Traveller could almost touch Tim.
He could hear Jesse laughing as he sped up.
At the slight incline of loose talus that led to the over crop, Traveller got within striking distance. He grabbed Tim’s ankle, pulled him down, but Tim turned and kicked Traveller’s hand away while Jesse yanked him up the slope backwards.
A second later, a shout echoed from the rock outcropping that sheltered the pod, “We won!”
Traveller and Willy rested at the bottom of the talus for a moment. They found their friends in the shade of the overhang when they finally made it to the top. Spent and panting, the two teams looked at each other and started laughing.
“Man, you two sure are clumsy,” Jesse wheezed.
“You cheated, we win,” said Willy.
“There’s nothing in the rules that says you can’t outsmart the other team if they’re stupid,” Jesse chided.
“Damn honkie, if I had the strength to get up, I’d give you that knuckle sandwhich we all talk about,”
“Now, now, Willy don’t be a sore loser.”
“I got to admit that did add a little spice to the race. Me and Traveller was kickin’ your butt till you kicked us down that shale. Oh man, I gonna be sore in the morning.”
Jesse sat up and passed his canteen around. After everyone drank a pull, the men looked at each other and started laughing again. “So, so . . .,” Jesse gasped, “so aren’t you going to ask, ask . . . Aren’t you going to ask me?”
“Ask you what, fool?”
“How my ankle is,” Jesse said causing four men’s laughter to echo throughout the cave for several minutes.

The men rested for over an hour before Traveller suggested, “Why don’t you guys gather some firewood while I open up the pod to make sure there’s not a rattlesnake named Fangs striking at anything that moves.”
“Help me up Jesse,” Willy ordered untying the rope from around his waist. Jesse pulled him up then untied his own rope. They moved like octogenarians in the old folk’s home as they shuffled off into the brush.
After the three men left, Traveller opened the pod. The color of the pod blended in with the surrounding rocks making it almost impossible to see so everthing was just as he left it. Traveller engaged the climate controls setting the temperature at seventy-two degrees. He laid out the tarps before bringing in everyone’s backpacks. Jesse’s was so heavy that he opened it to see what was inside. A six pack of beer and a bottle of brown fluid call Jack Daniels lay on top of his gear. He was carrying extra weight when we raced Traveller marveled.
It took Traveller a while to find Fangs. He was still hibernating in the far corner of the cargo hold. The diamondback didn’t move when Traveller petted him, but the dry yet slimy feel of the snake never ceased to please the alien. He stroked the reptile for a few minutes before going back outside.Chapter 35 - Jack Daniels

Dusk was descending. In the subdued lighting and shadows of the ourcropping, Tim had a small fire burning. Traveller watched as he built it into a sit-around fire. The pile of wood by the pod grew when Jesse and Willy dumped their final armloads of branches on top of it.
Jesse climbed through the opened pod door. He emerged with the bottle of Jack Daniels. “You know Traveller,” he said, “Jim Morrison loved Jack Daniels. He recorded most of his songs drunk so I thought I’d let you experience what he went through.” Jesse unscrewed the cap then took a belt.
He handed the bottle to Traveller.
“Don’t do it man,” Willy cautioned. “It’s the road to Hell you’re takin’.”
“Don’t be such a mama,” Jesse said. He turned to Traveller, “You’re here to research humans, to find out what makes them tick. Jim Morrison’s one of your favorite singers. Maybe it’s because he drinks whiskey or he drinks whiskey because he doesn’t care, but you’ll never find out if you don’t try it.”
Traveller sniffed the bottle neck. There was substantially more alcohol in this concoction than beer. “Come on be a man,” Jesse encouraged.
The alien took a sip. It tasted horrible causing him to wince in displeasure. The liquid burned all the way down to his stomach where it settled into a warm pleasant feeling. That’s not so bad he thought. He took another sip and it wasn’t so bad. “Tim?” he said tipping the bottle toward him.
“No way. Don’t let Jesse lead you astray. That stuff will kill you,” Tim replied.
Traveller handed the bottle back to Jesse who took another swig and said, “Don’t let those two pussies scare you off. We’re in the middle of nowhere. What harm can come from a few shots of whiskey?”
The relaxed feeling that the amber liquid induced enticed Traveller, made him want another drink. This seductive temptress called whiskey made everything all right. He held his hand out for the bottle. When Jesse handed it to him, another swig was taken, a somewhat longer one this time.
“No more!” Willy thundered. “Damn you Jesse, no more!”
Jesse grabbed the bottle back and took another drink. “You’re not my momma,” he said quietly.
“No, but I’m Travis’s brother. You keep givin’ him whiskey, he’s gonna get sick.”
“I can take care of myself,” Traveller slurred. He liked the feeling the whiskey produced.
“Man, I bet that’s what my ol’ man said before he became a drunk. You remember my ol’ man dontcha?”
“Okay, one more and I’ll stop,” he held his hand out for the bottle. Jesse gave it to him and he took a gulp.
When Jesse got the bottle back, he drank making the bottle of whiskey gurgle with bubbles. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’,” he said. Suddenly the bottle was snatched from his hands.
“That’s enough fool. You wanna drink youself silly, do it when I’m not around,” Willy said.
“Well, I guess a beer would be out of the question,” Jesse said.
“Naw, go ahead mix’em, make you’self sick,” Willy replied.
Jesse went back into the space pod. A minute later, he stuck his head out of the door with a beer in his hand and asked Tim, “You want one?”
“Naw, I haven’t recovered from last night.”
Jesse jumped down from the pod staggering. He slid sideways along the spaceship, and then sat down in the dirt. He opened the beer, guzzled a good portion of it. “I tricked you guys. We won!” he yelled. “Wah hoo, we’re the champions!”
Jesse tried to stand but fell sideways landing with his face in the dirt. The beer left his hand, overturned and was pouring onto the dirt by his head. Suddenly, he puked.
“See what that stuff do for ya, Travis. Isn’t that pretty?” Willy asked.
“He’ll be okay. Just give him a minute,” Traveller replied. He got up and helped Jesse to the fire.
“Wah hoo! We won,” Jesse said looking at Willy with whiskey-glazed eyes.
“Yeah, you look like a winner, puke runnin’ all down your arm. I’m going to bed,” Willy said taking the whiskey with him.
“I think I’ll join you,” said Tim.
“What’s the matter? You two can’t take a joke?” Jesse slurred.
Neither man dignified Jesse’s remark with an answer. They rolled their space blankets out on the tarps inside then ate jerky, apples, and synthowafers. “Close the door please,” Willy said when they were through eating.
Traveller grabbed a handful of synthowafers before using the remote to close the door. He and Jesse sat by the fire as Traveller fed his drunken friend synthowafers and water. When Jesse fell asleep, he opened the pod again and carried him inside. Traveller took his friend’s boots and jacket off before throwing a blanket over him.
With one eye open, Willy said, “That fool gonna lead you over a cliff, Travis.”
“Goodnight Willy,” Traveller replied.Chapter 36 - City of Rocks

Traveller felt horrible the next morning. His dry mouth combined with a splitting headache made him think that he would never drink another drop of whiskey for the rest of his life.
Jesse, on the other hand, was bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Jesse had evacuated a good deal of the poison when he threw up. That coupled with the synthowafers and water had prevented him from the misery that plagued Traveller.
After a quick breakfast, the men rolled their bedding up and stored it in the cargo hold careful not to disturb the sleeping rattler. When they finished, Jesse said, “Fire this thing up! I’m looking for adventure!”
Traveller activated the thrusters gently lifting the ship off the ground. Willy and Tim sat on a rolled tarp behind the view screen while Jesse rode shotgun. Sensors automatically guided the ship to keep it from scraping against the rock. The outcropping filled with dust as the ship slowly emerged from its winter shelter.
Once the ship hit open air, Traveller elevated. When the craft was above the trees and sagebrush, he banked right heading north.
“That is so cool!” said Jesse. “Why aren’t we falling out of our seats? How does the ship keep us from tilting?”
“The deck that we’re sitting on keeps the same relative position to the ground. The outer part of the ship moves but the cabin stays parallel to Earth. It is suspended in, for want of a better word, an amniotic fluid. It is a shell within a shell full of fluid. The mucous-like substance contains nanobots that act much like nerve cells that relay messages throughout the body of the ship. It works on the same principle as a gyroscope,” Traveller answered.
“But in the view screen, you can see the tilt of the ship and its relationship to the terrain. How does that work?”
“The screen contains a digital representation of our surroundings so that I can fly the ship correctly. It’s kind of disorienting, isn’t it? You see the landscape tilting while remaining in the same relative position to the ground. It took me a while to get used to it. Of course, the screen retracts if you want to fly by sight.”
“So that’s why we’re not being thrown all over kingdom come,” Jesse marveled.
Traveller gradually elevated the ship to 10,000 feet veering to the west. They flew over Ward’s store following the Albion highway north until he spotted the canyon that contained the cave where Fangs lived then he turned due west. Within minutes, the foundation of the old mining camp came into view. Once the ship was over the parking area, Traveller sat it down.
“You guys stretch your legs and go poddy while I return Fangs to his cave,” Traveller told his passengers. He picked the sleeping snake up from the cargo hold and left the pod with the snake draped over his shoulders.

When everyone had situated themselves back inside the ship, Traveller elevated, and then headed south until he found the road heading to Elba. “Everything looks different up here,” Jesse said, “but just follow the highway to Almo. Just past it, you turn right.”
“Better stay elevated so no one can spot us,” Tim cautioned.
“What are they going to do, throw rocks at us?” Jesse asked as they flew over Elba with its two-story brick houses dotting the green pastures. Red brick, yellow brick, and white-washed houses splashed color on the deep green carpet below. Angus and Hereford cattle grazed in the meadows adding yet more contrast to the green.
Traveller unconsciously slowed the craft to appreciate the pastoral beauty of Idaho. On the side hills, scores of deer wandered along the highway. Their hides looked mangy. Clumps of hair hung from their sides as they shed their winter coats. The land budded with spring. The crabapple trees held pink blossoms.
Without noticing, Traveller had descended to less than a five hundred feet. When he flew over the town of Almo, Jesse said, “You turn right and follow that road.” He pointed to a brown line the led back west into the mountains.
The space pod wound up the canyon until bleached tan rock formations crowded the road. The granite domes look comfortable nestled among the verdant green trees and grass. White snow drifts lay against the west faces of the rocks.
They kept climbing until they found themselves flying over a maze of gigantic rocks that looked as if a giant had gone on a rampage and thrown countless misshapen objects at the Earth. His powerful projectiles had struck the mountain embedding them into the ground.
The ship passed finger-shaped spires of ash-flow that stood in a crowd of watching formations. Each spire leaned its own way. There were tall ones, medium ones, and small ones, each etched by the forces of nature, each a tribute to Earth’s power and beauty.
“Look at that one,” Tim said breaking the awe-caused silence. “It’s the state of Idaho.” A dark granite formation shaped like a hand with the index finger pointing up came into view.
“Yeah, that’s called “My Idaho,” said Jesse. “See those two? Their called the Twin Sisters. The one on the left that looks all weathered and eroded is two and a half billion years old. The other is only twenty-five million years old. You can tell, she’s still firm.”
“What are those parallel lines? They look like the scars on my arm,” said Traveller.
“This used to be a landmark for the California Trail. Emigrants bound for California in the 1880s traveled through here. Those are wagon ruts,” said Jesse. “The Pony Express also had a route across the City of rocks.
“Set this thing down over there, and I’ll show you something,” Jesse said pointing to a rock grouping.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Tim said.
“Don’t be so paranoid. There’s not that many people here,” Jesse said.
“Better pull around, keep the rocks between us and the road,” said Willy.
Traveller found a grassy spot and sat the ship down. After everyone exited the plane, Jesse walked them around to where two names had been written on the rock face, ‘A. Freeman’ and ‘D. Tickner’ stood out in black letters. “The settlers signed their names in axle grease,” Jess informed them.
“We should go for a hike. This place is beautiful,” Traveller said. The sun shone down and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was a warm seventy-eight degrees in what had been a very early spring.
“Yeah, let’s go find a rock to sunbathe on,” Tim said.
“Good idea, I can work on my tan,” said Willy.
“You do look a little peeked. Probably not drinkin’ enough whiskey,” joked Jesse. “Follow me.”
He walked through the silver-grey sagebrush, and then across the meadow dotted with early blooming wildflowers. Yellow primose, white water leaf, and violet phlox flowers painted the green grass with splashes of color. Every so often a light orange spire rose up from the earth. “Lori calls this place the garden of God’s sculptures. She loves it here.”
They walked west until they came to Bath Rock. Jesse started climbing it.
“Where you going fool?” Willy asked. “I ain’t no mountain climber.”
“If you don’t want to climb it here go around to the other side. There’s some metal grips you can use. You gotta see this place from up there,” Jesse replied pointing to the top.
“I’m with Willy,” Tim said watching Traveller follow Jesse up the east face of the rock.
Forty minutes later, Willy and Tim looked down on their friends as they climbed the last fifty feet of the rock. Once Traveller stood on the top, he looked around, whistled, and said, “By the Universe, look what creation has wrought. This is acroluminous to the tenth degree.”
“You ought to see it at sunset with an overcast sky. It’ll take your breath away,” Jesse said.
The foursome sat down together letting the cool breeze dry their sweat as they drank water and pointed things out on the landscape. Traveller was overcome by the beauty. He couldn’t have imagined anything like it before today. The fresh mountain air, the flowers, and the city of spires and domes that stretched before him on all sides of Bath Rock made something stir deep within him.
“Tell me when you’re ready to go,” said Jesse.
“Let’s just sit here for a while. There’s no hurry,” Traveller said in a hushed, reverent voice.

An hour later, the foursome climbed off Bath Rock. The afternoon sun basked them in its warm glow as they descended. Jesse was the last to jump off the monolith.
“Where to now?” he asked.
“This place is acroluminous. Let’s fly over it some more,” Traveller said.
“You’re the alien explorer,” said Jesse.
Once they were airborne, Traveller kept the ship at low altitudes. Spotting a pair of rock climbers, he hovered above them at the same time a cloud passed over revealing the ship.
The climbers sensed that they were being watched and looked up. They spotted the cigar-shaped ship shimmering in the sunlight. It disappeared when the clouds passed. The climbers quickly scaled the rock and began searching for the strange object in the sky spotting it several times as it passed over the multicolored terrain.
A park ranger collecting trash in black plastic garbage bags also spotted the ship as it moved across the silver-gray spires. Parts of it appeared and disappeared. He got on his short wave radio and alerted the other ranger working in the visitor center.
When Ranger Goodwin went outside to investigate, there was a score or more of hikers and campers in the parking lot looking out with their hands shading their eyes. One of them pointed at the horizon. “There it is,” he said.
The ranger’s eyes followed the finger. On the horizon the pod came into full view for a second then disappeared. He saw parts of it several times as Traveller investigated the rock formations. Ranger Goodwin went back inside and called the Cassia County Sheriff’s Department.

Traveller sat the ship down on a grassy knoll for a poddy break. He didn’t know that people had been watching the intermittent appearance of the pod. The watchers at the visitor center gasped when four people emerged from a black square that suddenly opened on the green grass.
The figures seemed to walk around something on the green before they disappeared again. One of them reappeared with his hands in front of his crotch while shaking one leg.
A bearded man who was watching through binoculars informed the crowd, “They must be going poddy because one of ‘ems zipping his pants up. That must be some kind of camouflage plane or something, ‘cause those guys are as human as I am.”
“Let’s go see,” another man said. He and his campanions jumped in their Ford pickup and took off. Several other vehicles followed.

“If you shake it more than once, you’re playing with it,” Jesse joked as the foursome relieved themselves standing together shoulder to shoulder like gunslingers. “Poddy on dudes, poddy on!”
He was the first to notice the trail of dust roiling up from the road as several vehicles wound around the park to see the mysterious plane. “Better cut the flow we’ve got company coming,” Jesse informed his companions.
“How close? I really gotta go,” Willy complained.
“I’d say you have about ten minutes, but we’d better leave before they spot the ship.”
“Man, I be flowin’ like the Snake River. Why don’t y’all go down and put up a road block,” Willy suggested.
“You really need to hurry,” Tim said.
“Come on Willy!” Traveller yelled as he got back in the ship. He jumped in the seat, fired the thrusters. Tim and Jesse climbed in as the spacecraft elevated. He moved the ship across the grass so Willy would hurry.
“Hey wait up! Don’t be stranding a black man in white man country. They all be lynching me,” he said running and zipping his pants at the same time.
Tim and Jesse caught him by the arms and hauled him in. Traveller shut the door. He pushed the the throttle hard forward causing the ship to shoot ahead as it elevated.
“Just like the A-team,” Willy said as he stood and finished zipping up. “I wish we had some watermelons we could drop on ‘em. That’d teach ’em to be so nosy.”
“Did you wash your hands?” Jesse asked.
“Stupid Jesse! Whadya think? I barely got back in the plane.”
The hikers in the Ford pickup barreled around a rock spire just in time to see a black man being pulled into a black rectangle. Several parts of the ship became visible as it elevated. Once it ascended above the landscape, the ship blended into the blue.Chapter 37 - A Severed Tie

Traveller flew northwest toward Pomerelle. A helicopter passed below him headed toward the City of Rocks. They also spotted an airplane circling the area.
“You don’t think they’re looking for us do you?” Jesse asked.
“I’m sure. Probly gonna arrest us for hangin’ our wieners out. Whose idea was it to take a poddy break anyway?” Willy asked. “Traveller’s got a little bathroom we could have used.”
“Yeah but we all had to go at once and I just love a poddy, dude,” Jesse said. “We were poddying like it was 1969!”
“Stupid Jesse,” Tim said with a smile.
“Right on. Poddy on,” Jesse replied.
Traveller waited until the sky cleared before heading to the camping spot where he had originally landed just west of the ski runs. Dusk was slowly dimming the light putting a reddish-orange filter on the western horizon. He was unaware that the ranger in the lookout tower on top of Mount Harrison had spotted the ship several times in his binoculars.
Traveller slowed the ship down as he descended. He flew through the opening in the trees setting down near the fire pit. With dusk in charge of the sky, the men got out and stretched.
“Let’s get a fire going,” said Jesse.
“Not tonight. I don’t want anybody to know we’re here,” said Traveller. “Tomorrow we’ll fly back to camp then we’ll hide the spaceship somewhere.”
“Yeah, I think that plane and helicopter were looking for us,” Tim said.
Everyone got back in the ship. They ate synthowafers, apples, and jerky. When they finished, Jesse said, “Let’s play poker.”
He removed a deck of cards from his backpack and set them in the middle of the floor along with the bottle of Jack Daniels. “I thought I took that away, fool,” Willy said.
“I took it back. It’s mine. Lowest hand drinks a capful,” Jesse replied.
“Count me out,” said Willy.
“There’s just a little over half a bottle. All you have to do is win and let the losers do all the drinkin’,” Jesse coaxed.
“I’m in,” said Tim.
“Me too,” said Traveller.
“You gonna do my drinkin’ for me?” Willy asked looking at Jesse.
“Sure, what’re friends for,” he answered.
“Deal.”
They played for two hours before the whiskey was gone. Traveller had never played poker but picked the game up quickly. The cards never fell his way. There was no beginner’s luck for the alien. After several losing hands, Traveller was drunk.
Jesse and Willy lost about half of the rest of the games with Tim rarely losing. Good to his word, Jesse drank for Willy and himself. He didn’t mind though, he liked whiskey.
With the Jack Daniels gone, Jesse pulled a joint from his shirt pocket. He lit it and passed it to Tim who took a toke and passed it to Traveller who took a toke and passed it back to Jesse. “May the circle be unbroken,” Jesse said as he brought the reefer to his lips.
By the time the joint was gone, Traveller’s head was spinning. “Wow man, I’m loaded,” he said imitating Cheech and Chong. “Sister Mary Elephant’s going to stomp on my head man.”
Jesse started giggling. Traveller continued, “No Jesse, I mean like really man. I feel like I’m back in space man.” Jesse kept giggling. “Like I can see the stars twinkling in your eyes. The universe is like shrinking, man. I can like feel it, man. We’re going down a black hole, man.”
“Oh lord, we’re stuck in a spaceship with a couple of waistos,” Willy complained rolling his eyes. Jesse giggled some more.
“Look at the bright side of things,” said Tim. “Jesse hasn’t eaten any bean dip.” Jesse kept giggling.
“Yeah there’s that,” Willy said amid the laughter. “We don’t have to worry about being gassed to death.” Now Jesse broke into gut busting chortles. Tears rolled down his eyes. Traveller laughed as well, but not quite as hard.
When the silliness left their systems, Traveller sang “Ship of Fools” by the Doors. “The human race is dying out. No one left to jump and shout . . .”
His friends grew quiet as Traveller sang Jim Morrison, and then Bob Dylan, followed by Hank Williams. His melancholy voice instilled his friends with a sense of sadness.
Traveller finished with Steppenwolf’s “The Pusher” before pulling a sheet of padding and the tarps from the cargo hold. Jesse helped him spread them out on the deck for a place to sleep. All of them went to bed that night thinking about the world around them.

Willy shook Traveller awake late the next morning. “Listen,” he said.
Traveller could hear a whirring engine driving propellers above them. “What is it?”
“A helicopter. Sounds like it’s right over us. God, I hope it doesn’t land on us.”
“Everyone out of bed. Get your stuff put back in the cargo hold!” Traveller yelled. Moving with alacrity, even though his head pounded from the whiskey, Traveller jumped in the pilot’s seat and started the engines. He turned the camouflage unit off and the whirring sound moved away.
Jesse slid into the co-pilot’s seat. “What going on?” he asked.
“We’ve been spotted,” he answered engaging the thrusters. As the ship elevated, the whirring noise got louder. Once the spaceship cleared the trees, Traveller reengaged the camouflage unit. He whirled around and spotted the helicopter only twenty yards away coming straight at them.
“Hang on!” Traveller yelled. He pushed the red power burst control. The ship shot underneath the helicopter buffeting it sideways. Once he cleared the tail of the copter, Traveller pulled the wheel back causing the ship to go upside down while it elevated and flipped backward.
Traveller watched the chopper turn around as he flew over it upside down. The spaceship had moved too fast for the deck to adjust. Tim and Willy were thrown into the walls before finding themselves on the ceiling which was now the floor.
When Traveller rolled the ship right side up again, Willy and Tim fell to the deck sliding down it until it adjusted to flat. They slammed into the door side wall.
“Good Lord Bro’,” Willy said, “you trying to kill us?” He was rubbing his head where it had bumped against the wall. Tim was unscathed by the whole experience.
“Here Willy, take my place,” Jesse said unbuckling his safety harness.
“I take back every rotten thing I ever thought about you Jesse,” Willy said trading him places.
“Look down below,” Traveller said watching a pickup and car barreling up the road with revolving red and blue lights. Behind them a forest green jeep was followed by two trucks of the same color. The three vehicles had a white star on the driver’s side door. The truck beds were covered with ribbed canvas.
“Looks like they called out the National Guard,” Tim said.
“There’s another airplane, too,” said Willy pointing to a blue-striped Cessna heading their direction.
Traveller slowed the spacecraft to a halt then engaged the lifters to gain altitude. When the craft was well above the plane’s elevation, he hovered and watched. Two more planes appeared and circled the area.
“It’s time to head back to . . .,” Traveller was saying when a high whining scream drowned him out.
“We’re going to explode!” Willy yelled as the thundering scream buffeted the ship. It got louder and louder until the roar became unbearable. All four men put their hands over their ears and waited for their deaths in a fiery explosion. The spacecraft was pushed downward at the same time as the noise became impossibly loud.
The four men got a quick glimpse of the exhaust pipes of an F-15 as it roared over them with a companion jet by its side.
“Get us out of here before we’re shot down,” Jesse said with fear etched on his face. “Those babies are carrying missiles. Descend to just above the trees. Hopefully this thing will turn green and they won’t be able to spot us.”
“What about radar? We’ll show up on their radar systems,” Tim said. “Those are F-15As equipped with Doppler radar systems. They can distinguish low-flying targets from objects on the ground.”
“How you know that?” asked Willy.
“My dad’s a combat pilot. They have cannons on board plus they carry four heat-seeking Sidewinders. The missiles keep a constant angle to the target so they can hit an object that’s moving to an intercept point. If they fire one of those at us we’re dead,” Tim replied.
“This is going to be fun!” Traveller enthused.
“Fun? What’s fun ‘bout dodgin’ missiles? Let me out at the next corner, fool,” Willy said frantically.
“Don’t worry Willy. There are all kinds of places to hide,” Traveller reassured. He had dropped the spaceship down to tree skimming level. “In case we don’t get out of this, thanks for the blood Bro’”
“Man, my life just be looking up and suddenly I’m in a ship of fools ready to meet my maker. Ain’t no justice in this world. No justice at all,” Willy said before he closed his eyes.
Traveller turned on the ship’s all-frequency communications systems and the three hundred sixty degree visual system. The F-15 pilot’s voice came through crystal clear as the jets passed over the area again. “This is Captain Jenkins of the United States Air Force. Please identify yourselves. Repeat, this is Captain Jenkins of the Unites States Air Force. Please identify yourselves.”
“You can’t answer them,” Tim said. “If they get a hold of this spaceship, you’ll be locked up forever explaining how to work it and where you came from.”
The screaming noise of the jet engines grew louder again. “Either identify yourselves or land your craft. This is a warning! You will be fired upon if you do not respond,” Captain Jenkins reiterated.
“Watch this,” said Traveller. Suddenly the spacecraft dropped down leaving everyone’s stomach in the air. The spaceship hovered inside the tree tops that pointed like arrow heads into the sky. The high pitched screaming diminished as the jets flew over their position. Traveller sensed movement behind him as Tim and Jesse were removing something from the cargo hold.
“I hate playing cat and mouse with the U.S. Air Force,” Willy said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m on it,” Traveller said. When he elevated, the spaceship showed up on both jets’ radar systems. Even though they were at high altitude, both of them fired a Sidewinder at the blip on their screens. The second the missiles were released, they registered on Traveller’s view screen. He accelerated and banked left. The missiles hit the top of the trees and exploded flipping the spaceship sideways into a roll.
Traveller lost control of the ship momentarily until it automatically stabilized. “Excuse me for living. Those guys are out to kill us,” he said. The ship was heading west by the time it responded to Traveller’s will.
He looked behind him. Jesse and Tim had rolled themselves up in the tarps and padding they had taken from the hold to keep from being battered to death by the rapid movement of the ship. Both of them had their heads covered so they couldn’t see what was happening.
Operating on instincts, Traveller stopped the pod in midair. He engaged the thrusters on the bottom of the ship and it shot straight up. He spotted a treeless ridge with a gigantic snowdrift on its eastern side.
Traveller pushed the accelerator to full throttle headed for the drift. “Guys get out of the sleeping bags and get your backpacks. Stand by the door. Be ready to jump and run when I open it. Get as far away from the pod as you can. You too Willy. Unstrap and get your backpack. Put the medical kit in my pack, set it by the door.”
The ship was picking up speed. Traveller guided it toward the part of the drift that had edged over from the wind. He aimed for what he hoped would be deep snow. Suddenly he cut the engines and dropped the stabilizer bars. When the ship glided into the drift, chunks of snow flew into the air. The ridge of white collapsed onto the ship.
Traveller opened the door. “Go, go, go!” he yelled. Snow fell onto the deck, only half the opening was clear. Jesse threw his backpack out before jumping through their window of survival. Tim followed with Willy right behind him. “Run, get as far away as you can!” Traveller screamed as they picked up their packs.
There was no running in a snow drift, but the three men were able to wade down the drift to where it ended in a stream caused by the melting snow. They crossed at the bottom of the ravine splashing into the water. The men kept going up the slope on the other side into the trees.
Traveller pushed the red self-destruct icon on the control panel. He set it for two minutes before calmly grabbing his pack and slithering through the partially blocked door. He could hear the jets screaming in for the kill as he slid down the drift on his belly wiggling like a seal. Just before he got to the water, he rolled over and dug his heels in. Now he stood up and ran through the stream then up the slope to a rock he had spotted on the slide downward. Traveller clambered behind the rock with his hands over his head just as the ship exploded. Snow and mud erupted into a volcanic shower that cascaded down into the surrounding area. The sound of the explosion was followed by the screaming jets passing a few hundred feet above the trees.
Traveller stood. He ran in the direction his friends had taken. He met them coming toward him. “You made it!” Jesse said with relief.
“Good Lord Bro’, that was one helluva an explosion,” Willy said as the four men met and hugged. “We’re alive. Thank God Almighty, we’re alive!”
Chapter 38 - Escape from the Hills

“We’ve gotta get out of this area,” Tim said. “They’ll be sending the National Guard down here to investigate.”
“Take the lead, Jesse. Pace yourself,” Traveller ordered.
“Let’s go northeast. We need to get across the road to Pomerelle as soon as possible,” Tim suggested.
Jesse set a brisk pace. Whenever they came to a bare ridge, he would stop at the tree line, check for helicopters or planes, and when the coast was clear, the men would run to the opposite tree line. No one spoke or joked. They were putting every effort into breathing and getting away.
It took over an hour to get to the road leading to the ski area. They stayed in the trees listening for vehicles. An ambulance roared by with its lights flashing, sirens blaring. The silence returned in its wake.
Jesse checked the sky. When he motioned, they slid down the bank onto the road and ran across into the trees on the other side. “Take five,” he said lying down on a pine needle bed underneath an evergreen.
The men lay on their backs panting, too tired to communicate. Even Traveller was exhausted. Five minutes stretched into ten before they caught their breath. The sun was just past mid-sky.
“We can slow down now,” Tim said. “We will want to go east. Stay high in the trees.”
“Next time anybody asks me to go camping, ain’t no way, no how. They was shootin’ missiles at us man!”
“Probably the Ku Klux Klan, Willy,” Jesse joked. “This is Idaho.”
“I thought they were all in northern Idaho,” Tim said.
“That was the U.S. Air Force fools,” Willy informed them.

The men kept walking east until late in the afternoon. They stopped on a game trail to rest. “We’re not going to make it today,” Tim said looking at the position of the sun just above the western horizon.
“You sayin’ we have to spend the night out here? Ain’t got no sleepin’ bags, not even a blanket,” Willy said incredulously.
“Not only that, but we won’t be able to start a fire,” Jesse said.
With great disappointment, Willy complained, “Good Lord when the dogs all run. I’m just gonna get out in the open, wait for a plane, give myself up.”
“We’ll be okay. We can gather pine boughs and spoon together,” Tim said.
“Spoon together? Man I like the girls, ain’t gonna be no spoonin’,” Willy replied.
“Come on, you can spoon with me,” Jesse joked putting his arm around Willy.
Willy jerked away, “Don’t touch me honky!”
Jesse looked at Tim with a twinkle in his eye, “What’s the matter Willy? Am I giving you the willies?”
“Stupid Jesse, stupid, stupid, stupid,” Willy pronounced shaking his head. “Here we are gonna freeze to death and all you do is joke. There be a bigger fool, I’d like to see ‘im.”
While his friends were jawing, Traveller had found a depression under an evergreen. It was covered with a deep layer of pine needles. He twisted two long hanging branches from a nearby tree and then placed them in the prospective bed.
“Let’s help him,” Tim suggested getting his hatchet from his backpack. “I’ll cut’em off, you guys layer’em in.”
“Gosh dang it, sleepin’ out here in the cold. Probly get attacked by a mountain lion. Bet it’s sneakin’ up on us right now. Hope it likes white meat ‘cause I’m too beautiful to be eaten,” Willy complained as he placed branches on top of the others.
By the time the bed was finished, the sun had fallen behind the mountains. In the semi-dark Traveller passed some synthowafers around and shared his water with everyone on. The men had placed their backpacks on the edge of the bed for a wind break.
Traveller pulled a lightweight space blanket from his pack and spread it out. It was just wide enough to fit over three people. When the cold deepened with the dark, Tim, Jesse, and Traveller crawled underneath the blanket with Jesse in the middle. Willy lay on top of the boughs with his arms folded while they spooned together to keep warm.
After a half hour had passed, Tim said, “Spoon right,” and everyone shifted positions except for Willy. His teeth were chattering and the boughs shook with his shaking.
“It’s warm in here,” said Jesse. “You can spoon with me.”
“I ain’t . . . I ain’t spoonin’ with you honkie.”
“Suit yourself. If you’d rather die of hypothermia, that’s your problem,” Jesse said.
An hour later, the dark intensified as did the bitter, high elevation cold. “Spoon left,” Tim said and everyone rolled over. “You okay?” he asked Willy.
“My feet be freezing. My hands’re froze and I can’t feel my ears anymore,” Willy replied.
Traveller lifted his blanket, “Get in here Bro’.”
“Anybody say anything to anybody ‘bout this, I’ll rip their guts out and serve’m to’em on a platter,” Willy said as he rolled inside the blanket to spoon with Traveller who held Willy tight against him until he quit shivering.
“Spoon right,” Tim said a half hour later.
The foursome spent the night trying to stay inside the blanket to keep warm. No one slept much with all the spooning, but they did keep from freezing to death.

“Oh Lord, what an awful night that was,” Willy said the next morning as he stood rubbing his sore neck.
“It could have been worse. At least we’re not eating raw salt pork and hard tack for breakfast,” Tim said as he distributed an apple and some jerky to everyone. When they finished eating, Tim led them into the rising sun eastward toward their base camp.

It was noon on a windy cool day before they got to the hill that led to the vehicle. Jesse ran down the slope with excitement. “I can’t wait to start the Scout and get warm.”
“Whadda ‘bout me? I spent hafda night ‘thout a blanket,” Willy said staying right behind him. Minutes later Tim and Traveller heard two doors slam shut.
Jesse and Willy had the Scout running with the heater on when Traveller and Tim walked through the trees several minutes later. Traveller immediately opened the back of the vehicle and, despite the cold, pulled a beer out of the cooler. He pulled the tab off, guzzled some and the sat on the end gate.
Tim got in the back seat. “Nothing like a thirsty alien,” he said.
“Well what’ll we do now?” Jesse asked. “Dang Air Force ruined our fun.”
“I’ve had all the fun I want for a long time. I say we head back home,” Willy ventured. “Nice warm shower set me right, make me forget ‘bout spoonin’” he shuddered.
“I’m not ready. Let’s build a fire and rest up today. Go home first thing in the morning,” Traveller said.
“We have four days of spring break left and you losers want to go home? What’re we going to do when we get there, sit around all day? Let’s go to Jackpot. We can pool our money; get a hotel room, shower, and then gamble.”
“How much money you got?” Willy asked.
“Twenty dollars.”
“Fool, ain’t got no money. What you gonna do when they see that peach fuzz on your chin, find out you ain’t twenty-one?”
“I’ve snuck in there before. If they catch me, I’ll go back to the hotel room and watch T.V.”
“Let’s stay here today,” Traveller pleaded.
Tim spoke up, “I’m with Travis. Let’s stay here and rest. Go to Jackpot tomorrow.”
“Fore we make any plans to go gambling, we best be checkin’ the money situation. I got fifty bucks,” Willy said.
“I have thirty dollars and some change,” Tim said.
They all turned their heads and looked at Traveller. “Two hundred dollars,” he said.
“Man, I knew there was a reason I liked you so much,” Jesse said with excitement. “So it’s settled, Jackpot tomorrow?”
Traveller raised his beer in agreement. Tim nodded. Willy said, “Good Lawd, we being led by a fool.”
For the rest of the day, Traveller sat on the end gate chain drinking beer while his friends slept. Toward evening they were up and about again.
Tim stoked a fire big enough for a congregation. Everyone but the alien gravitated toward it, drawn by the warm dancing tongues of red and orange.
When Traveller finally did slide off the tail gate, he staggered into the sagebrush to relieve himself. He returned after several minutes to hear Jesse chide, “We now know where the Yellow River came from. I hope you didn’t drown too many Chinese.”
Traveller remained taciturn as he grabbed another beer and walked back to the fire. He sat against a log away from everyone. “You okay Bro’?” Willy asked.
Traveller waved his hand remaining silent. His companions’ conversation inevitably drifted toward the events of the past couple of days. “Man, I closed my eyes, thought we was gonners,” Willy began.
“Oh Gawd, Tim and I just rolled ourselves up in the tarps, pulled them clean over our heads,” Jesse said. “I’ve got bruises over ninety percent of my body from being thrown around.”
“I thought for sure Travis had bought it when I heard that explosion. I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my life,” Tim said referring to Traveller’s appearance after the explosion.
“Yeah, you’re stuck here with us now Travis,” Jesse pointed out. “How does that make you feel?”
Traveller guzzled the rest of his beer. “How would you feel? That spaceship took over two hundred years to design, engineer, and build. I stole it with the intention of performing the mission it was intended for. Now look what I’ve done. I’ve destroyed it with my stupidity. Not only that, but I’m stranded here with no hope of contacting my family or anyone else from Benwar.”
Willy got up and sat down by his blood brother, put his arm over his friend’s shoulders and said, “We’re your family now, Bro’. We’re your family now.”
“Yeah, Travis, you’re one of us now,” Tim said.
“Welcome to Earth and pesky black people,” Jesse joked.
“Stupid Jesse,” Willy said looking sideways to see the tears in Traveller’s eyes.Chapter 39 - Jackpot

The men were hobbled by their aches and pains the next morning. No one wanted to roll out of the warm cocoon of an individual sleeping bag where they lay unencumbered by the rigors of spooning. For Traveller it was more a matter of motivation. His head hurt and he saw no reason to do anything else.
When the light finally crept into Jesse’s consciousness, he started thinking about their new adventure, the smorgasbords, the gambling, free drinks at the tables, and a hot shower. These visions danced in his mind like sugar plums. “Yeah baby!” he yelled. “Let’s get out of bed and enjoy life.”
He jumped out of his bag like it had just been invaded by chiggers. He threw his clothes on then opened the tent flap. A bright, sunny day had dawned. The air was fresh and invigorating. Best of all, there wasn’t a jet or plane in the sky. “Poddy on!” he yelled at the sky.
He quickly rekindled the fire before setting the coffee on to boil. “Get your butts out of bed!” he yelled. “Jesse’s cooking breakfast.” He put bacon in the cast iron skillet and placed it on the grate. “Willy, I can feel the hot water washing my sins away. There’s a shower with your name on it in Jackpot. Little soap and water and you might find out you’re white underneath all that dirt.”
“Tim,” Willy asked calmly. “Where Jesse put his gun? I’ll shoot’im, put’im out of our misery.” He thought for a moment before reconsidering. “‘Course he too dumb to die.”
When the men got up and ate breakfast, no one noticed that Traveller had hardly touched his food. Jesse was in such a hurry to get to jackpot that he did the dishes and loaded a lot of the camping gear by himself. With everything jammed in the back of the Scout they left. Willy curled up in the back with his head on Traveller’s lap and slept while Tim rode shotgun.

The trip to Jackpot was filled with music. Jesse’s cassette case contained over fifty albums ranging from Creedence Clearwater to Carole King. The adrenaline provided by his excitement plus his love of driving as he listened to his favorite artists kept him awake. Tim and Willy slept, while Jesse and Traveller sang the songs from the cassettes rocking back and forth in rhythm.
The mood of each song infused Traveller with whatever the artist was feeling at the time he sang it. Concentrating on the lyrics kept his mind off the bitingly bitter disappointment he felt over the loss of his spaceship. That and Jesse’s contagious enthusiasm lifted his spirits.
It took over three hours to get to the little gambling town south of Twin Falls, Idaho. Jackpot, located in Nevada, was a favorite gambling destination for many of southern Idaho’s residents.
Tim and Willy woke up soon after they drove across the state border of Idaho. “Are we there yet?” asked Willy rubbing his eyes.
“Soon, my man, soon,” Jesse answered as he drove over a rise and down the long hill that ended at the gambling mecca.
“Let’s get a hotel room before we start gambling,” Tim wisely suggested when they entered town.
“What is gambling?” Traveller asked.
“Jeeze! You act like you’re from another planet,” Jesse said without thinking.
Willy noticed the tears that Jesse’s remark provoked. He placed a hand on Traveller’s arm and said, “It’s bettin’ money on whether you win or lose. It’s like when we played UCLA in the tournament. Let’s say you bet me two dollars they would win. When we beat their butts, you would owe me the two dollars. If they would have won, I would owe you two dollars.”
“It’s just like playing poker only you bet money instead of match sticks,” Tim elaborated.
Jesse pulled up to the front office of the hotel and told his companions, “I need money.”
“One room with double beds,” Willy said taking a twenty from Traveller and adding a ten of his own then handing it to him.
After they had carried their bags inside, Jesse said, “I’ll be back. I’m feeling lucky.”
“I get the shower,” Willy called.
“Here Travis,” Tim offered, “let me show you how to play twenty-one.” They sat at the small table with Tim dealing cards from a deck he had pulled from Jesse’s backpack.
Ten minutes later, Willy came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, “Ooh wee! Ain’t gonna lie to ya. That be the best shower I ever took.”
Tim and Traveller took turns testing Willy’s shower thesis. Both concurred with his opinion. When Tim came out in white underwear rubbing his hair dry, he commented, “Anything that feels that good has to be illegal.”
Just as they were all dressed, deodorized, and dry, getting ready to hit the casinos, Jesse came back. “Man, I ran out of money. My luck was just about to change,” he said before looking at Traveller and asking, “Can I borrow twenty bucks. I’ll pay you back when we get home.”
Traveller handed him the money and then exited the room with Willy and Tim. “I’ll catch up with you after my shower,” Jesse called after them.
The men started their gambling spree at Barton’s. When they opened the door, they were greeted by cigarette smoke. Traveller followed Willy with his eyes watering. He felt like he was on a totally different planet, one populated by old people smoking cigarettes with one hand and holding a drink in the other. The multicolored lights of the slot machines decorated the darkened interior. They clinged and clanged with provocation. The sound of levers being pulled could be heard over scores of people talking.
Strapped for cash, Tim started on the quarter slots. Willy sat down at a twenty-one table. Traveller stood behind him and watched the cards as the dealer shuffled and dealt. He kept a keen eye on the betting and how the cards fell as they were distributed among the players. He watched for over an hour before sitting down to gamble.
On the first five hands he bet the minimum two dollars watching the cards and memorizing their place in the deck as they were shuffled. On the sixth hand he bet fifty dollars and received twenty-one. He doubled down on the next hand and won again. The dealer bumped his half-opened hand in front of Traveller who reduced his bet to two dollars. When he lost that hand, he bet two dollars again and lost again. A cocktail waitress came by and asked if he wanted anything to drink. “Jack Daniels,” he said.
“On the rocks?” she asked.
“No, just pour it over ice,” he replied. She rolled her eyes.
Traveller bet two dollars on the next three hands losing each time. The dealer dealt again. Traveller received two aces and split them with a twenty dollar bet. He won.
The waitress came back with his drink. He downed it without taking his eyes off the cards and said, “Bring me another. I’ll try it on the rocks this time.” She laughed thinking it was a joke.
Traveller played on the same table long after Willy had gotten up and left in disgust. Over the course of the night, his pile of chips grew. The number of free drinks had also grown. It had taken him three more Jack Daniels to figure out that “on the rocks” meant over ice. Why don’t these humans just say what they mean he thought.
He had just made a two dollar bet expecting to lose when Willy touched his elbow and whispered, “You best come with me.” When Traveller won, Willy handed him two coin buckets and helped gather him the chips up from the table.
“Lord almighty, let’s be counting that,” Willy suggested drawing him over to a table. “Man, you be lucky tonight.”
“There’s no luck to it. I just bet two dollars on a losing hand and more when I’m going to win,” Traveller replied.
“How you know you gonna win?”
“I watch the cards and pay attention.”
“You mean you count cards?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“Man, you a cash cow tonight.”
They had just finished counting the $3725.00 in chips when the cocktail waitress came over to the table. “Another Jack Daniels?” she asked.
“Make it a double, hold the rocks, make it ice this time,” he smiled at her and she laughed. When she brought the drink back, Traveller gave her a hundred dollar chip and said, “You have a nice smile.”
When she smiled again with her eyes sparkling, he apologized, “I’m sorry. You’re smile is worth more than that.” He gave her another hundred dollar chip.
The overjoyed waitress hugged him about the head. “God bless you! My kids need new clothes. It’s been so long since anyone has shown me any kindness.” She walked away with a lighter smile and a spring in her step.
“Bro’, I’m going to go cash some of this in before Jesse finds you wantin’ a new car or somthin’. Y’all come with me. We’ll walk to Cactus Pete’s before they kick you outta here.”

Willy ushered Traveller across the highway to the other casino by the arm. He found a no limit twenty-one table with two vacant seats and sat Traveller at one of them.
Again, the alien bet two dollars a hand until he was able to place the cards. When he felt good about his chances, a hundred dollars was placed on the table. He won, doubled down and won again.
Traveller was up four thousand dollars before the manager came over with another dealer. The supervisor stood and watched as the new guy dealt several hands with a new deck of cards.
Willy saw what was happening. “You feel like you gonna win, bet a thousand,” he whispered.
The cards aligned, the alien bet a thousand and won. He received two aces on the next hand, split them and won two more hands betting a thousand on each. He was now up another three thousand dollars.
“We all better go get somthin’ to eat,” Willy said when the manager left to get the security guards. “They gonna kick you outta here.”
Traveller put his two dollar bet on the table. With the authority of several shots of whiskey, he said, “This is America. I’ve done nothing wrong. I will not leave.” The game had stopped; the dealer quit shuffling the cards.
“Come on Bro’,” Willy pleaded as the two guards approached.
Traveller was shaking his head no when Jesse cut in front of the guards and pulled the alien off of his seat. “Lori’s here. She wants to see you,” he said.
Traveller forgot about twenty-one allowing himself to be ushered away by Jesse. Willy gathered the winnings and followed them outside.
“Where’s Lori?” Traveller asked.
“I said that to get you out of there. What are you thinking? You’re underage. What’re we going to do if you get arrested?” Jesse asked.
“I’m an American citizen,” Traveller said stubbornly. “They can’t touch me.”
“Damn,” Willy said looking at Jesse, “I knew he be ‘round you long enough, you’d rub off on’im.”
“He’ll be all right. He’s just had a little too much whiskey. I’ll walk him around for a minute while you cash his chips in,” Jesse said. “We’ll sneak back in when they start the smorgasbord.”
“I want Lori,” Traveller slurred.

Tim found Jesse walking Traveller around the parking lot. “What happened?” he asked.
“It looks like Travis got attacked by free drinks. I don’t know what he did, but the security guards were just coming for him when I grabbed him away. You win any money?”
“Yeah right. If you think you’re going to lose, you lose, and I lost. I’m broker than a newborn baby. How ‘bout you?”
“I’m about even. I think Travis won some money. Maybe he’ll buy dinner.”
“I’ll buy dinner. I’m an American citizen. I can buy anything I want. It’s a free country,” he replied with the twisted logic of a drunk. “Don’t you tell me what I can buy, I’m a Benwarian.”

Twenty minutes later, the group was waiting in line to eat. Traveller stood in front with his friends behind. He was wearing a new cowboy hat with Jesse’s Levi jacket on. The collar was pulled up to his ears so he looked like James Dean. No one could tell he was a card counting alien.
When they got to the cashier’s, Willy moved to the front and paid the $7.95 for all you could eat prime rib out of the wad of cash in his pocket. A waiter showed them to a table and asked if anyone wanted a cocktail. “Ain’t no way,” Willy answered for all of them. “Least not till Travis gets some food in ’im.”
“I’ll fix you a plate Travis,” Jesse offered. “You wait here.”
A few minutes later, he returned with a plate piled high with prime rib, scalloped potatoes, oysters, shrimp, and coleslaw. The rib was smothered in horseradish sauce.
Willy and Tim sat down with plates overflowing with the various meats offered in the serving line. Jesse came back several minutes later with two plates for himself. One was overflowing with shrimp, the other with prime rib and twice baked potatoes.
“Damned if this don’t beat being shot at by a jet,” Willy remarked.
“And whose idea was it? Whose idea was it?”
“Yours Jesse,” Tim finally answered. “You’re the man.”
Traveller’s hyper appetite, stimulated by whiskey, kept him quiet and shoveling food. The prime rib rocked but the oysters were his favorite. Having eaten little most of the day, three of them looked like participants in a food eating contest as they devoured everything in front of them.
Only Tim maintained some modicum of decorum. While they were waiting for him to finish, Jesse came up with an idea. “Guys listen to this. There’s no way we’re going home tomorrow. Let’s disguise Travis and get him back on the tables.” He looked at Traveller and continued, “This time don’t be so obvious. Make more varied bets at first. Lose some of the big bets but overall keep winning? What do you say?”
“If that’s what you want,” he answered.
“Let’s go back to the hotel room and get some rest,” Tim suggested.
“Honky be thinking,” Willy agreed.
“I don’t want to get bored tomorrow so let’s play a round of golf in the morning before we hit the tables,” suggested Jesse.
“Damn, sometimes I swear you not so brainless,” Willy said agreeing with the suggestion.

Jesse had everyone up and ready to go by eight o’clock the next morning. After breakfast, he drove them to the golf course. The greens were bathed in warm spring sunshine with no wind.
They started at the driving range. It was marked with white lines to measure the distance each ball traveled. Only Jesse and Tim had ever played golf. Jesse teed up and hit the ball. “Keep your head down and follow through on your swing,” he explained to Traveller as the ball sailed straight and true.
Traveller’s first drive sliced to the right. When he compensated, the next drive sliced to the left. “You have to hit the ball square then follow through,” Jesse instructed.
Willy tried next. His first drive had no lift. It hit the ground and rolled fifty yards down the range. “Man, it look so easy on T.V.,” he said.
“You have to get under it,” Tim said.
“Hit the ball square, get under it? How’m I gonna get under it, if I be hittin’ it square?” Willy asked before he whacked the ball again. This time it sailed high and over a hundred fifty yards. “Yeah baby, that’s what I’m talkin’.”
After hitting drives for over an hour, the foursome moved to the putting green. Here Willy was a natural making several putts at various distances. Traveller, however, consistently putted past the hole.
After missing almost all of his shots on the green, Traveller’s frustration grew into a reddish-blue hue that colored his face. Facing a twenty foot put, he hit the ball too hard. It rolled across the edge of the hole stopping another tweny yards on the other side.
“By the Universe! I’ll be a Lizerian’s ass!” he yelled dropping to his knees and pounding the turf with his club. He forgot himself in his anger swearing in Benwarian, “Dignock, blato, melbag, botwad!” Traveller kept pounding his putter into the turf until a brown hole was beaten into the green. “I hate this game! It’s stupid!”
“Bro’ stop. You’re going to get us in trouble,” Willy said standing well back of his violent outburst.
“Let him get it out of his system,” Tim advised.
Traveller was hitting the turf so hard that his putter gradually bent into a u shape. It became impossible to hit the ground with any force. When the futility of it all struck him, he dropped to his knees and cried.
Willy turned away with tears in his eyes. He knew Traveller was crying for his home and the loss of the spaceship. Willy moved close to put a hand on Traveller’s shoulder, “Come on Bro’, you’re a survivor.”
Tim and Jesse each grabbed an arm to help Traveller up. “You need to go back to the driving range, take your frustrations out on the ball. Hit that damn thing until it flies straight,” Jesse ordered. He looked at Tim and Willy, “I’m going to go back to the hotel room for a while, keep him occupied till I get back.”

When Jesse returned to the driving range, over twenty people were standing well back of Traveller watching him hit the ball. There was a resounding whack when his club made contact, followed by an ‘ahhh’ from the crowd.
The ball landed on the two hundred seventy-five yard marker and rolled another twenty-five yards.
Jesse waited for him to hit again. This time the ball sailed well over the three hundred yard marker. The crowd clapped. When the applause died down, Jesse said, “One more then we have to get back to the hotel room. Pretend your hitting a Lizerian’s head.”
Traveller concentrated on the ball. His mind and body became one as he brought the club down and under the Lizerian’s white dimpled head. It lifted high into the air sailing, sailing, sailing, and then returning to Earth three hundred fifty yards down the range. It rolled over thirty yards before it gradually rolled to a stop. The crowd went wild.

It was just before noon when they got back to the hotel room. “Let’s rest up for a while then we’ll go get lunch,” Jesse said. He plopped on the bed with his hands over his head resting on a pillow. Willy plopped next to him.
Tim took the other bed while Traveller sat in one of the chairs at the room’s table.
Everyone had their eyes closed dreaming or thinking about one thing or another when the phone rang. Jesse shot straight out of bed to answer it. “Hello,” he spoke into the receiver.
“Yes, just a minute,” he said then looked at Traveller. “It’s for you.”
“Me?” Traveller took the phone, “Hello?”
“Hi Traveller. It’s Lori. I’ve missed you.”
“Lori! I’ve missed you, too.”
“Are you okay? I had a premonition that something bad happened,” she said having already been filled in by Jesse.
“My space ship was destroyed,” he said.
“That’s great Traveller! I was always worried you’d fly off somewhere. Now you’ll have to stay here with me.”
“But, but . . .”
“You’re free to be yourself now. No Benwarians to look over your shoulder. You came looking for friends and you found them. You have to look at the bright side of things. Don’t grieve for that which cannot be changed.”
“You’re right. It’s just that I’ve severed all ties to my heritage.”
“Move on. Let no sentiment of home detain you. I’ve got great news. I’ve booked the band at the Fifth Amendment two weeks from this weekend.”
“Really? I love music almost as much as I love you Lori. You’ve lifted my spirits more than you can imagine.”
“I’ll see you when you get home. Don’t let Jesse get you guys in trouble. Think of me fondly and with a smile. I love you.”
“Thank you Lori. That means more than a spaceship ever could.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow Traveller.”
“Goodbye,” he replied.
“Who was it?” Jesse asked when he hung up.
“You fool Jesse. You answered the phone,” Willy said.
“So who was it?” asked Jesse again.
“Lori. Let’s get me disguised so I can win some money for her.”
“Now you’re talkin’,” Jesse enthused. “I saw a blonde wig in the gift shop. There was also a nice dress. We’ll need make-up and high heels.”
“I’ll do the make-up. My sister and I used to practice on each other. Once she trained me, I used to do my mother’s for her,” offered Tim.
“That is so gay, but whatever. You do the make-up, but he’d better be pretty when you get done. Let’s drive back to Twin Falls to get some of the other stuff we need. We’ll be back toward evening when all the fun starts,” Jesse said.
“Man, you guys crazy. We gonna end up in jail,” said Willy smiling at the thought of Traveller as a woman. “I jus’ hope he don’t turn out to be a bitch.”
“Bro’ what a horrible thing to say about you’re sister,” Jesse joked.

When they got back from Twin Falls, Tim shooed Jesse and Willy out of the room. He didn’t want them watching as he applied Traveller’s make up. They had purchased eyeliner, mascara, rouge, false eyelashes, high heels, a bra, even falsies. Everything a man would need to pass for a women right down to the razor for shaved legs and nylons.
Chapter 40 - Marilyn Monroe Lives

Traveller watched an old Marilyn Monroe movie on television called “A Seven Year Itch” while Tim was applying the make-up. He watched her mannerisms and listened to her voice. “I want you to apply a beauty mark,” he told Tim after watching for a while.
After Tim was done, Traveller was every bit the woman except for his brown hair. “And on with the wig,” Tim said. He put it on Traveller and gasped.
“Let me see,” Traveller begged.
“Just a minute. I have to adjust it,” Tim said. He pulled and tugged at it before pinnning it to Traveller’s real hair.
When Tim finished, he stood back to examine his work. “You’re beautiful,” he said getting out of the way for the alien to see.
Traveller didn’t recognize himself. He pursed his Monroe lips and winked. “O Tim, take me out to the ballgame,” he said in an unmistakably husky female voice.
“I bet Willy and Jesse will never recognize you. Let’s go to Cactus Pete’s and find out. I’ll stay in the shadows while you flirt with Willy,” Tim suggested.
They found Willy at the bar drinking a coke. Tim joined him and signaled for Traveller. The wall behind the bottles of booze was covered by a mirror. Willy enjoyed being able to watch people pass behind him by staring straight ahead.
He perked up, when he saw a tall blonde with shapely legs approaching. “Whooee, man somthin’ fine be passin’ our way Tim. Man, she be a knockout. Hello mama!” he said.
Traveller placed a hand on Willy’s back just as he was taking a sip of pop, “Hello handsome. What’s a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?” he/she asked.
Willy spewed coke on the counter. “I buy ya drink sweetie. Just tell me what ya’ll havin’.”
Traveller ran his fingers through Willy’s kinky hair, “If I did that handsome, you might find out who I am,” he/she teased.
“It be a secret? You all can’t actually be Marilyn Monroe, she dead,” he said.
“No hon, try a little closer to home. I’ll have a Jack Daniels on the rocks,” Traveller gushed sexily.
Willy had been utterly fooled even though he knew what the plan was. Traveller was so pretty, so feminine, so beautifully sexy, and so into character that even now he found himself disbelieving. Only the scarred arm told him otherwise, that and the fact that Tim was laughing and pounding the flat of his hand on the bar.
Willy wasn’t amused. “Damn man, you guys cold-blooded. Jeeze Bro’, I didn’t know it was you,” he said angrily averting his eyes.
Without breaking character, Traveller replied, “What’s a woman to do when Willy goes for a man?” The alien kissed him on the cheek leaving red lip marks.
“Damn it Bro’ quit foolin’ around and go win some money,” Willy said as he wiped the side of his face with a napkin. Feeling the hot blush of embarrassment he exclaimed, “And stay away from me!”

Tim and his “wife” circled the tables until they found one with two adjacent open chairs. The gentleman, Tim, seated his ever more flirtatious wife before setting down beside her/him.
The dealer dealt Traveller a pair of aces. He/she batted her eyelashes noticing that his name was Jimmy. “Why Jimmy I think I’ll just split these and bet a hundred on each,” she said when he got back to her.
He dealt her/him a king and then a queen; he/she won three hundred dollars. A girlish giggle escaped from Traveller. “Oh Tim, Jimmy’s just the nicest dealer,” he/she said. Meeting Jimmy’s eyes as he gathered the cards from the other players, he/she winked.
Tim and Traveller played tag team twenty-one. Traveller would nudge Tim when the cards went his way then he would bet more. There were several times that both of them won a substantial amount of money. When it became obvious that they were counting cards, Jimmy’s supervisor walked over to observe. A husky blue-eyed blonde, Traveller immediately caught his attention. “Well hello handsome. If those aren’t just the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. What’s a good-looking guy like you doing in a place like this?”
His stern demeanor transformed into a smile. “Hello miss. You wouldn’t be counting cards would you?”
“Why, I never,” Traveller said reading the name on his tag. “Well Mike, if you want me to leave, I can take my money and go across the street.” She kept eye contact smiling all the while.
Mike felt like he was literally talking to Marilyn Monroe even though she was dead. He couldn’t help but smile when he said, “I think that would be our money you would be taking across the street. I’ll give you a half hour before I send security over. Enjoy yourself.” He walked away feeling guilty for some reason.
“Well I thank you,” Traveller called after him in a warm femine voice.

After their half hour ended, Tim and Traveller walked across to Barton’s Club. The heads of many an elderly gentleman turned when they saw the beautiful Marilyn Monroe walking gracefully on the arm of a young man. One even whistled whuutt whoo. Traveller smiled at all of them transporting them back to the time when they were Marilyn’s age and in love with the beautiful buxom actress.
Jesse was coming out of Barton’s as Tim and Traveller entered. He did a double take when he saw Traveller. “Is that you?” he asked in disbelief.
Traveller couldn’t break character. The alien no longer existed as along as he looked like Marilyn, he was Marilyn. “Hello Honey,” he said.
“Don’t talk like that you’re scaring me,” Jesse said trying to hide the fact that he was attracted to the busty babe who had once been his alien friend.
Traveller put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “It’s the only way I know how to talk sweetie. Is something wrong?”
“You, I . . .,” he sputtered.
“The world’s spinning. Let’s go make some money before it stops,” said Tim pulling Traveller inside the club. Jesse was left standing with his mouth moving like a fish out of water and his eyes as wide as dinner plates.
Once inside the club, they were confronted by a gigantic dollar slot machine. No one was using it. Traveller read the graphics on the front of it explaining how much each series of symbols paid.
“Let’s get some dollar chips. I want to try my skills against this machine. It has to be more challenging than playing twenty-one,” Traveller said.
“Here,” Tim handed him some dollar coins from his pocket. “I’ll be back,” he said leaving to get some chips.
The progressive slot machine paid more money for each dollar inserted. Traveller put in three silver coins then pulled the handle slowly with his left hand on the machine listening to the gears inside as they whirred and fell into place. He won twenty dollars.
On the next pull he came up empty, but he was able to discern a different pattern in the way the gears sounded. On the next play, he slowly pulled the handle down until he felt a click and then he sped up. This time he scored a fifty dollar jackpot.
Traveller played again and again trying different rhythms as he pulled the lever. He didn’t notice that Tim had returned and now stood behind him watching. He put in three coins yet again. This time he patted the machine slightly.
All hell broke loose. Sirens sounded and the machine ding dinged. Angry red and yellow lights flashed with coins tumbling from the mouth of the multi-colored monster. It bled money for several minutes until five thousand pieces of flashing silver escaped from the beast that had swallowed them.
“I do believe you hit the jackpot,” Tim said.
“Why Darling, I do believe you’re right.”
Two security guards arrived to survey the carnage and help the lovely blonde gather her winnings. She batted her eyelashes at one of them and said, “Thanks honey, wrap those up. I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead.”
The guard fell all over himself to help her. He even pushed the other guard out of the way when he tried to gather some of the coins. After they were gathere, he insisted on carrying the largest portion of them to the cashier’s kiosk.
“For your trouble dear,” Traveller said slipping a hundred dollar chip into the guard’s palm.
Tim stood well back and watched. Traveller’s Marylin Monroe had attracted quite a crowd of onlookers, some to see now much she had won, others to bask in the beauty of the blonde bombshell. It became obvious to Tim that they had drawn too much attention to themselves. He moved close to his creation and said, “It’s time to go sweetheart.”

* * * *

Jesse and Willy were sitting at the bar discussing their friend. “Man, I ain’t goin’ near him till he take off that make-up become a man again. Shoot, I find myself wantin’ to hug him, whisper somthin’ sweet in her, his ear.”
“I know. I was going to watch her, him play twenty-one, but it’s just too eerie being around a man who’s so fantastically beautiful as a woman.”
“I hear ya Bro’. He be all comin’ in the bar givin’ me a kiss on the cheek. I wanna kiss ‘im back. I be thinkin’ I sick or somthin’. I swear I ain’t gay.”
“I’m not gay either. I say we stay away from him. I don’t want him to see me going all googly eyed when I ogle him,” said Jesse. “I don’t know how Tim can handle being around him. Let’s get something to eat and take it back to the room, watch some T.V.”

Chapter 41 - Loaded and Headed Home

When Tim and Traveller got back to the hotel room, Willy and Jesse closed their eyes and pretended to be asleep. They tried their best not to look longingly at their alien friend dressed in drag.
Traveller turned the bathroom lights on while Tim turned the bedside lamps off. “I can’t believe Jesse’s sleeping,” he whispered.
“I thought they would wait up to see how much we won,” Traveller said quietly. “My feet are killing me. Why anyone in their right mind would wear high heels is totally alien to me.” He kicked them off.
“And this dress is like being wrapped in a bandage. It’s hot, uncomfortable, and I hated the way everyone stared at me when I walked by.” He piled the dress on top of the heels then removed the bra. “And this contraption was killing me,” he said throwing it in the garbage can.
“But the worst part was being bound down there with tape. I can’t begin to tell you how awful that was,” he said unwrapping his crotch.
He removed the wig, washed the make-up off, and slipped into sweat pants. When he came out of the bathroom, both Jesse and Willy had awakened. “Let’s count the money!” Jesse exclaimed careful not to look at Traveller.
“Yeah, get it all on the table, see what we got,” Willy agreed keeping his eyes straight ahead. “You lay on the bed Travis, so we don’t have to loo . . . so you can rest.”

They awoke late the next morning. “Over seventeen thousand dollars. Man, I ain’t never seen so much money at one time. Lori gonna be pleased,” Willy said looking straight ahead.
“Not so fast,” Jesse cautioned glancing sideways at Traveller. “You give her a bunch of money all at once, she’ll ask where it came from and find out we were doing a little under-aged gambling.”
“Tim won two thousand of it,” Traveller said trying to get a little eye contact from Willy or Jesse. He couldn’t tell what was wrong. I think they’re mad at me. What did I do? I’m going to give them some of the money.
“I thought you two should get a thousand dollars. I’ll trade my amplifier in for a better one. Lori can have the rest,” he told them.
“A thousand dollars! I can pay some of my debts,” Jesse said.
“Yeah Bro’ that’s awful generous,” Willy agreed.
“I was depressed until you guys brought me here. It’s the least I can do,” Traveller said repositioning himself in an attempt to get Willy to look at him. When Willy quickly turned his head in an obvious effort at avoidance, the alien asked, “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing wrong here Bro’,” Willy blurted.
“Jesse?”
“Travis, you know me. If something’s wrong, I’ll tell you,” Jesse said looking away.
Tim smiled knowingly. “They’re probably just embarrassed that they found you so attractive,” he said chuckling.
“Attractive? I seen better looking on the back end of a horse,” Willy countered as he darkened.
“I could tell it was him. He looked like my grandma,” Jesse blushed. “The way he was wobbling on those high heels, I thought he was going to fall over and break a hip,” Willy commented.
“Yeah right,” Tim said knowingly.

On the way home, Jesse stopped at a gas station to fill up. Both he and Willy bought a pair of mirror sunglasses so that Traveller couldn’t tell where they were looking. When they climbed back in the Scout, both seemed more relaxed. Neither of them noticed Tim shaking his head and smiling.
As they approached the city of Burley just off of I-84, Jesse saw an old man standing on the side of the freeway with his thumb out. He looked fragile and road worn. Grey hair stuck out from beneath a red stocking cap and his dusty black raincoat billowed in the breeze. “Shall we pick him up?” Jesse asked.
“That would be the Christian thing to do,” Tim said.
Jesse immediately pulled over. When the rather pungent old man got in beside Traveller, he scooted over until he was touching Willy who flattened himself against the door looking very uncomfortable.
“When’s the last time you ate?” Jesse asked.
“Yesterday,” the old man said.
Jesse pulled off at the north Burley exit. He drove to McDonald’s. “We’re hungry, too. I’ll buy your dinner,” he said. “My name is Jesse.”
The hitchhiker’s face brightened. “God bless you friend,” he said. He shook hands, “I’m Austin.”
Jesse held the door open for him as they entered. He held the hitchhiker by the arm to steady him and walked him to the counter. After the two of them ordered, Jesse paid for it.
Traveller stood behind them examining one of the world’s wretched. He smelled. He was dirty, homeless and downtrodden. Why? he thought. Why?
The bright yellow tables only seated four so Willy and Tim took the opportunity to sit across the aisle where the air was fresher. Traveller and Jesse sat with Austin. He had ordered a chocolate milk shake with a Big Mac and fries. He ate slowly relishing each bite, oblivious to anything else in the restaurant.
As he was finishing his shake, Traveller asked, “So where are you headed for, Austin?”
“Don’t know. I just head.”
“If you don’t know where you’re are headed, where did you come from?”
Austin sipped his shake, didn’t say anything for a long time. Traveller watched as a storm so violent raged inside of him that lightning flashed in his eyes. “You don’t want to know,” he said turning his head away from Traveller’s searching gaze.
“I do want to know. I’m trying to understand what it is to be human.”
Austin hugged himself, shivered, and shook his head no. “I live in the hell of images that plague me like a swarm of locusts,” he said cryptically. “I’m no more than a replay of a nightmare.”
“This isn’t the time or place,” Jesse said to Traveller. “Let’s get back on the road. He then looked at Austin, “We’re going to Pocatello. Is that okay?”
Austin shrugged without answering. When they got up and left, he followed them. Willy got in the front seat with Jesse while Traveller sat in the middle of the back seat with Tim behind Jesse and Austin to his right.
Traveller was overflowing with Benwarian curiosity. This man sitting by him differed from all those he had met before. He sensed that Austin’s inner turmoil had caused him to be apathetic to the world around him. While he existed in the world physically, mentally he lived in a different place and even at a different time than today.
Traveller placed a hand on Austin’s knee. Using his Benwarian gift of pathos, he psychically sent Austin a message to relax, that he was sitting by someone with not only sympathy, but with empathy, someone who could lessen his suffering by understanding what he had gone through.
Austin started speaking as they merged onto I-84 going eastward. “I never wanted to go to war. When I got my draft notice, what was I going to do? My parents taught me never to question the United States of America. My dad is a WWII veteran. He preached love of country and flew the American flag on a pole in front of the house.
“My parents also taught me to be a Christian. I was raised with the Ten Commandments, ‘Thou Shalt not Kill’, and to believe in the teachings of Christ, ‘Love the neighbor as you would yourself’. I was told to follow the Golden Rule, ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ I tried to follow those teachings.
And then there was boot camp. We were trained to believe that the Viet Cong were Godless communists. They deserved our hate and scorn. Many of those I served with didn’t think the Vietnamese were human by the time our training was done. We were taught they deserved to die.”
“I was assigned to Charly Company. When we got to Vietnam, we found ourselves in a different world. A hot, humid world of jungle and insects. A world where booby traps and ambushes maimed and killed. We took causulaties without ever seeing the enemy. Our hate grew with every death.
“And then we were given targets for our wrath. A series of villages called My Lai and So’n My were reported to be full of Viet Cong. We were ordered to destroy these so called Pinkvilles.
“We went in after cannon barrages and helicopter gunships had attacked the villages. I followed the first wave of soldiers. They attacked anything that moved. Humans and animals were gunned down with rifle and machine gun fire. Grenades were thrown into huts without warning or burned to the ground, any Vietnamese inside were shot as they came out. I saw several women and children bayoneted.
“There was no return fire, no enemy soldiers with weapons, only old people, women and children. When they were rounded up and herded into an irrigation ditch, I tried to stop the madness. “Get out of the way or we’ll shoot you!” someone yelled at me. Two soldiers forcibly removed me from in front of the villagers. The automatic weapon fire lasted for minutes. It ended with a ditch full of dead women and children.
“We moved further into the villages with no resistance. A young girl emerged from behind a burning hut. Her arm was half shot off dangling from a piece of flesh. The bewildered look on her face asked why is this happening to me. My platoon sergeant ordered me to shoot her. When I refused he grabbed my rifle. Her head exploded before I heard the shot. It was wrong. It was horrible. There are no words strong enough to describe how bad I felt.
“This is murder! I shouted. This is murder! This is murder! Stop! I shouted. Fall back soldier, I was ordered. Let us do our work, I was told. I ran back the way we had come trying to find a commanding officer who could get control of the situation. I ran through the screams of the dying and the burning huts, through mangled bodies and shot off faces.
“This is the hell I live in. I sleep with it and wake up to it. And the worst part of it all? Do you want to know what destroyed me?”
Traveller couldn’t imagine anything worse. He had led a sheltered life, free of violence. He was wrong to think he could understand this man’s torment. It was beyond his realm of experience. “What?” he asked anyway.
“I and two others who tried to stop the killing and protect the villagers were denounced by the United States Congress when we got back home. I received hate mail from those who supported the war.
“I quit answering the phone after several death threats. One day I found a mutilated dog on my doorstep. For days afterward, I practiced suicide with my .38. I would put the gun in my mouth and pull the trigger. Once I even loaded it and brought the hammer back. Somehow I couldn’t do it so I took to the road to lose my identity, but the images follow me wherever I go.”
Traveller was at a loss for words. What do you say to someone who has lost his belief in everything he has been taught? he asked himself. And I was worried about the spaceship.
Traveller finally spoke. “You are the hero. You stood up for what you believe in. That took great courage. If you can’t rid yourself of the images, embrace them as a sign of a beautiful soul amid the soullessness of war.”
Traveller started singing, “We shall overcome, we shall overcome, someday . . .” The notes were pure. So beautiful that for a moment Austin forgot his anguish.Chapter 42 - The Band

Traveller had rented a hotel room for Austin when they got back to Pocatello. The war veteran was able to shower and clean himself up. With the new clothes Traveller bought for him, he looked respectable. The storm in his eyes had quieted. He looked ten years younger.
Luckily, Lori had found a vacant apartment nearby. She donated a few dishes and other household goods while Traveller staked him with food and money. Traveller had even found him a part time job loading boxcars. With clothes donated by Lori’s parents, he looked clean and presentable.
They discovered that Austin played harmonica and that he also knew about amplifiers and sound systems. His eyes had filled with tears when Traveller asked him to be a part of the band. For the first time in years, his life had purpose. There was a reason to get up in the morning.
So on the band’s debut at the Fifth Amendment, Austin set everything up, even tuned the instruments so that all they had to do was take the stage and start playing. He had also helped Traveller pick out a better amplifier. He had driven a hard bargain with the store owner and with Traveller’s trade-in; they had purchased it for fewer than five thousand dollars.
The Benwarian Blues Band debuted to an audience of less than twenty-five people. Traveller began the set with “Ship of Fools” by the Doors. “The human race is dying out. No one left to scream and shout . . .”
Sensing the mood of the crowd, he launched into more mainstream rock and roll songs that were made for dancing. Soon the floor filled with couples enjoying the music. Over the night more and more people arrived to listen to the new band in town.
When Traveller finally took a break an hour and a half after the first song, he discovered that band members received free drinks. He ordered a Jack Daniels double. It inspired him to sing “Gloria” in the next set. Again he transformed into Jim Morrison. The tables emptied with all but a few on the dance floor gyrating together.
His last song of the night was one he had written. By now Traveller had downed several Jack Daniels on the rocks. He sang the song in a gravelly blues voice.

Well I fell from the stars
Now I play in this bar
With no way to get home
I was lost and alone

You know things got so bad
I knew nothing but sad,
Jets were shootin’ at me
As I fled through the trees

Didn’t know what to do
My ship was blown in two
Then you took me in
I recovered my grin.

If it weren’t for you
I’d be ever so blue
Now you are my star
A balm to my scars

Yes, you took me in
Brought back my grin.
Yes, I found a friend,
Now I’m on the mend.

Everyone returned to their tables to finish their drinks. The bar quieted as people listened to the melancholy last song. When it ended, they filed out into the night.

At one o’clock in the morning, the week caught up with Lori. She had been playing bass guitar and singing back up vocals. “We drew quite a crowd tonight and now we get to go home,” she said smiling at Traveller not realizing how drunk he was.
“I wrote that last song for you baby,” he said imitating Jim Morrison. “Aren’t you gonna come over here and love me? Everybody needs a little love.”
“You’re drunk,” she said surprised at his aggressiveness.
“You cannot petition the Lord with prayer!” he shouted pointing at himself.
“Knock it off Traveller. You’re scaring me,” she said quietly.
“Can you give me sanctuary?” he asked.
Tears formed in Lori’s eyes. This wasn’t Traveller. She didn’t like what whiskey had done to him. His aggressiveness scared her. “Maybe you should go home with Tim tonight. I’m leaving. Don’t come home until you’re sober,” she said.
“Can you give me soft asylum?” he sang to Lori’s back as she walked out alone.
“You ticked her off,” said Tim. “How much have you had to drink?”
“I can take care of myself,” Traveller said staggering across the dance floor to sit in one of the chairs at a table. “You can’t touch me.”
Jesse came out of the bathroom to find his sister gone. “What happened to Lori?” he asked Tim.
“Traveller said something to her. She told him not to come home until he sobers up,” Tim replied.
“She’s tired or I’m sure she wouldn’t have gotten so upset,” Jesse said.
Austin stopped disconnecting equipment. “He can come home with me. I’ll sleep on the floor. He’s just had a little too much to drink is all.”

Traveller awoke at five the next morning to the sound of someone whimpering. He looked around in an attempt to get his bearings. He remembered playing at the Fifth Amendment, but the last part of the evening was a blank.
The whimpering grew louder suddenly becoming a scream, “No! It’s murder!” came Austin’s shout. I’m in his apartment. Why? Traveller thought. He got out of bed and walked to the small living room. Austin was curled up in a fetal position. When Traveller touched him, he straightened and opened his eyes.
“Another nightmare?”
“Same one as always,” Austin replied.
“Why am I here?”
“You got drunk and made Lori mad. She wouldn’t take you home.”
“No, I wouldn’t do that.”
“You were drinking whisky. Whisky makes people do a lot of things they normally wouldn’t do.”
Traveller felt his face redden with shame. “Can I stay here a few days?” he asked. “I need to do some thinking.”
“Of course, for as long as you like. You’re paying for the place.”

Three days later, Jesse visited. “Hey Traveller, what’s up? Lori’s worried about you. She sent me over to check up on you. She wants to know when you’re coming back.”
“Hi Jesse. I am too embarrassed to see her right now. I can’t even remember what I said. How can I apologize if I don’t know what to apologize for?”
“You came on to her.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Made sexual advances. Asked her to give you a little love.”
“No.”
“Yes. It was the whiskey talking. When you drink too much that’s what happens. You lose control of your tongue.”
“No more Jack Daniels for me.”
“You don’t have to quit. Just don’t drink so much.”
Traveller spent the rest of the week working and then coming home to practice playing and singing with Austin accompanying him. Austin looked better than he had in years. His dead eyes were resurrected showing the kindly soul behind them. Traveller’s company had been a Godsend for him.
The band had a scheduled practice for Saturday morning. Traveller also scheduled an apology for then. When the Lori entered the garage, he met her at the door.
“Hi Lori,” he said with his hands folded behind his back. “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for last Saturday. I want you to know that I would never do anything to hurt you.” Traveller pulled the dozen red roses from behind his back and gave them to her.
“Roses! No one has ever given me a dozen roses before. Oh Traveller, they’re beautiful!” she said kissing him on the cheek and then drawing him to her and hugging him. “I forgive you, but please don’t ever do it again.”
“I won’t. You have my Benwarian pledge of honor.”
“And one other thing,” she said.
“Anything. You know that.”
“I miss you. Please come home.”Chapter 43 - Summer Time

After thinking about it, Traveller decided to move in with Austin. He wanted his freedom for a while. Two days after his apology, he went back to Lori’s apartment one evening to get his clothes.
The minute Lori answered his knock; she knew he wasn’t coming back. He kept his eyes averted and said, “Hi Lori. I’ve come to get a few of my things.”
“You’re not moving back in?” she said with hurt in her eyes.
“No, I need my space for a while.”
“But you’ve paid for six months rent.”
“That’s the least I can do for you,” he said looking her in the eyes. “You have done so much for me. I care too much about you to see you hurt, and I need to be unfettered and free to explore for a while. We’ll still see each other in the band.”
“I’m leaving the band. I don’t want to play with you guys this summer. I hate the cigarette smoke and the rowdy crowds we attract at the Fifth Amendment. I’ve already signed up for summer school. You guys don’t need me anyway, Austin can take my place.”
Now it was Traveller’s eyes that filled with hurt. “When did you decide that?”
“When Dr. Mellon asked me to do an independent study project on John Steinbeck. It’s to be centered on his novel, The Winter of Our Discontent. I thought about it. I can tour with a mimic and breathe cigarette smoke all summer or study a true American original. I decided on Steinbeck. I’m enthralled by his work. Touring with a bunch of rowdy guys isn’t my idea of a good time anyway.”
“I’m not always a mimic. I’ve written a few of my own songs.”
“You have become all too adept at mimicking human behavior. When I first met you, you were an original. You took joy in many of the things we take for granted. Now you drink Jack Daniels and think of yourself as Jim Morrison.”
“I love Jim Morrison.”
“Jim Morrison is dead. He self-destructed. He was a drugged up alcoholic with no self control who died at the early age of twenty-seven.”
“But he had soul; I can feel it in his music.”
“Jim Morrison was a self-indulgent, self-centered nihilist who died as a corpulent wasted shell of a man. His soul pales in comparison with Steinbeck’s.”
“You’re just mad because I’m leaving.”
“No, I’m disappointed because you have slowly devolved into a run of the mill human being. Our world doesn’t need any more of them, there are already billions living lives of quiet desperation. We need leaders, people who can discern the truth and influence the world around them. The world certainly doesn’t need another Jim Morrison.”
“So I’m a failure?”
“Only you can decide that. There’s always time to change. I’m saying you need to go back to being a Benwarian and give up trying to be human.”
Traveller walked to the hallway dresser with his clothing in it. He pulled his Levis, shirts, and underwear from the drawers and stuffed them in his duffel bag. “Will you play with us until school’s out?” he asked.
“Of course. I’ll work with Austin, make sure he’s ready. Will you think about what I said?”
“I already am,” he said stuffing the last of his clothing in the bag. He hugged her and then, with tears in his eyes, he turned around and left the apartment.

When Traveller got back to Austin’s apartment, he pulled his bottle of Jack Daniels from the cupboard and poured himself a glass straight up, no ice. He took a swallow without grimacing.
“You okay?” asked Austin.
“I will be in a minute,” he said before downing the rest of the glass. “I love whiskey. It makes me feel good. It doesn’t ask anything of me.”
“Oh but you’ll pay for it with your soul, believe me. It had me in its clutches until I ran out of money and hit the road. When I finally sobered up, I found myself in a ditch shaking and wishing I were dead.”
“But I’m a Benwarian. We can handle anything.”
“I’ll be here to catch you when you fall,” Austin said with conviction.

Jesse and Tim were able to get through their last semester of college with passing grades. They were motivated by Lori’s constant reminders and gentle persuasion, but their hearts weren’t in it. They were obsessed with the band.
When school ended the Benwarian Blues Band played in several bars throughout southeastern Idaho. Soda Springs, Preston, Montpelier, Burley and even Twin Falls had a bar that scheduled them. As their reputation spread, the audiences grew. Sometimes they would play to standing room only.
Traveller started each evening with a couple of shots of Jack Daniels. He felt free to drink whiskey rationalizing that it made him act and think like Jim Morrison. He began every set with ‘Ship of Fools.’ By the end of the night, he was whiskey numbed and unthinking, alone with himself and as solitary as an oyster inside its shell.

In August the band traveled back to Pocatello for a Ross Park concert. A stage was set up just below the zoo. It looked out upon the grass and trees. People brought blankets and lawn chairs in anticipation of seeing the band with its dynamic lead singer. Over two thousand people showed up.
The crowd cheered and clapped after every song. A talent agent visiting an old friend living in Pocatello was in attendance. The band’s performance captivated him. After the set he asked Traveller if he and the band would care to open for Fleetwood Mac on their fall tour across the United States.
Willy was also in attendance that day. He watched Traveller get into the band’s bus drinking from a silver flask. He knocked on the door just after it closed. When Traveller saw his blood brother, his face lit up with surprise and joy. “Bro! Damn good to see you,” he said hopping down the steps to embrace his friend.
“Dang man, band keeps gettin’ better. Y’all learn to play a little disco, I might buy an album,” Willy smiled. “How ya doin’?”
“Flying high man. Flying high. Gonna be opening for Fleetwood this fall. Yourself?”
“I be helpin’ with basketball camps and pickin’ up a coupla credits in summer school,” Willy replied. “Coach keepin’ me busy. You say Fleetwood Mac? You on the cusp of the big time Bro’.”
“Come and sit down,” Traveller said ushering him into the bus. He led Willy down the aisle to the table in the back. Traveller pointed his flask at his friend, “Drink?” he asked.
“Naw. Y’all know bettern’ that.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Traveller said taking a pull of whiskey.
“Where Tim and Jesse?”
“They cut out after the last song, said they had something to do.”
“Lori?”
“She quit the band. Haven’t seen her for a while.”
“I hear you move out. Damn fine girl.”
“Yeah, she had better things to do. She’s in love with John Steinbeck.”
“She in love with you fool. She jus’ the kinda woman demands respect. Won’t put up with someone with another love.”
“I don’t love anyone else. What’re you talking about?”
“What’s in that bottle, that’s what I be talkin’ ‘bout.”
“Hey Bro’ don’t crowd me. I can quit anytime I want to.”
“Yeah that’s what my ole’ man usta tell my momma just before he smack us around.”
“Screw you Willy.”
“Man Bro’ you gettin’ all dark on me,” Willy said getting up from the table. “No way to talk to a friend. Y’all helped me out, I just tryin’ to return the favor.”
“Screw you Willy.”
Willy shook his head. “I try to catch you sober sometime Bro’,” he said as he walked down the bus aisle. At the door he stopped and said, “Don’t forget your friends.”
With Willy gone, Traveller pulled his acoustic guitar from the luggage racks. He sat down at the table and adlibbed a song in his gravelly blues voice,

I have a new lover,
She’s blowing my mind.
Her lips are so tender
She makes me feel fine.

A taste of amber
Puts rose on my face.
Makes me burning warm,
Takes me outta this place

I gave up my friends,
Even my brother.
I gave up my girlfriend
When I found my lover.

Her name’s Jacki Daniels
I drink long and deep.
I drink to get drunk.
It’s sordid and cheap

Got a hold on me
I can’t let her go
She’s easy to be with
That much I know.

I drink from my lover
She makes me feel fine
Give me love in bottle
We’ll pass the time.

Oh Jacki Daniels
She’s lettin’ me down
She knows that I’m sinkin’
She’s lettin’ me drown.

Traveller ended the song before he took another drink of whiskey. He placed his head on the table, closed his eyes and then fell asleep.
When Austin had the equipment loaded, he lifted Traveller into one of the seats and drove him home.

Chapter 44 - Porter Tellez

Porter had touched his spaceship down in the mountains outside of Tucson in May 1978. Before the flight, Sandiko, Porter’s South African business associate, had purchased a thousand acre ranch through a real estate agent. He had also hired a contactor to build an underground bunker on the place with over 5000 square feet of floor space. With walls of rebar-reinforced concrete over three feet thick, it was built to withstand an aerial bombardment. The structure was buried deep into the side of a mountain with a camouflaged entryway large enough for Porter to drive his space pod into. The ship was stored in a separate compartment at the back of the bunker. Only Sandiko, Porter and Loreto knew it was there.
Porter had researched for over a month to find a suitable location in the United States. Located sixty miles north of the Mexican border, the climate in Tucson was the closest match the Benwarian could find to the planet of Lemmus. It was a little cooler in the winter and not quite as hot in the summer, but overall the temperatures and climate were quite amenable to his Benwarian physiology.
His business agent had purchased a home in the Casas Adobe neighborhood in Tucson. The modest rectangular adobe contained a living room in the front, a large kitchen/dining room in the back with two bedrooms on each side of the house. The plain unassuming house suggested a middle-classed owner. It had just two windows in the front that looked out onto the mountains. The house was energy efficient with a simple, easy to clean, design.
Porter found the Mediterranean architecture of Casas Adobe neighborhood attractive. The Tucson area was criss-crossed with a labyrinth of commuter bike routes and several off-road biking trails that led into the mountains and surrounding terrain. He and Loreto enjoyed riding their ten speeds and rarely drove their 1977 Toyota Camry.
His presence in South Africa had become untenable with the South African Defense Force after him. He had fled Soweto with soldiers combing the township for the one known as the Blue Man. By fleeing into the savannah, he had avoided arrest. After two weeks of mining gold from the vein he had found, he and Loreto had flown the pod to the United States.
As a cover, he had paid twenty thousand dollars for the identity and social security number of a Phoenix man who had died of natural causes. Blake Hollister’s records now showed Porter’s photograph and address. Porter and his wife, Loreto, had married over a year ago. She had borne him a child six months afterward. The boy, christened Logan Hollister, enjoyed the vitality of a hybrid. He looked more Middle Eastern than African or Benwarian with his dark hair, deep brown eyes, and a dark complexion with a bluish tint.
For the past six months, Porter had been pursuing a new hobby. At a fundraiser he and Loreto attended, he had been approached by a Catholic priest. Father McNamara was sheltering two Mexican families from the authorities. He was giving them sanctuary, but the courts had ruled that the illegals must be turned over to the Immigration and Naturalization Service for deportation. The good Father McNamara wouldn’t do it. He answered to a higher law than the United States government. He felt it was un-Christian to turn away God’s downtrodden so he had asked Porter for help.
“Why me?” Porter asked knowing the answer.
“Because I can see by the light in your eyes that you are one of God’s chosen,” the priest replied.
“I’m not even a Catholic,” he said with Loreto standing nearby smiling and wondering why Porter was being difficult. “What would you have me do?”
“Your eyes tell me that you’re a man of compassion, understanding. You have resources. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Porter sighed and said, “Bring them to the house tonight.”
When the two families were ushered into his house at one o’clock in the morning, Porter had used his translator to interview them. He found out that they had been starving and unemployed in Mexico. Their escape to America had been their only hope for a better life.
It was the beginning of Porter’s hobby or what some would say was his calling. He rented another home in Tucson to serve as a halfway house for illegal aliens. Their plight became his plight, an alien helping aliens. He also purchased a delivery van to transport people north to find jobs. Money and food were provided to ensure that the immigrants had a good start.
Father McNamara brought the many that came to him for help to Porter. Often these immigrants told of others camped out on the desert or in the mountains. When this happened, Porter would drive the delivery van to the area. He would track the illegals down and bring them back to Tucson. Several times he had rescued groups who had run out of water or food or both. Without Porter’s help, these people would have perished.
Loreto, who actually was a Christian, took great joy in helping her husband. She prepared meals, bought clothing at the thrift stores and made arrangements for the unfortunates they came in contact with.

On a sunny day in the first part of December, Porter and Loreto made arrangements with Rosa and Manuel Gutierrez to baby sit Logan. The Gutierrez’s were illegals with kindly souls of light according to Porter’s spectrometer readings. Ostensibly employed to clean and cook, they were invaluable interpreters for Porter and Loreto. They also organized and ran the underground help network established by the Hollisters for illegal immigrants. With these trusted friends in charge they felt comfortable leaving Logan so they could journey in the mountains on their bicycles.
So on this sunny day in December with the temperature at 70 degrees Fahrenheit, Porter and Loreto rode on the mountain trails before journeying into the city to get a newspaper, orange juice, and fresh fruit for breakfast. They stopped at a small market that sold local produce. While Loreto went inside to buy the groceries, Porter inserted a dime into the glass newspaper dispenser and pulled the Tucson Times out. He sat down on a bench outside and began to read the national news.
With her husband occupied, Loreto took her time picking the crispest apples, perfectly ripened bananas, and bread with the most wholesome ingredients. She was delighted when she found a new shipment of oranges to make fresh squeezed juice. She paid for the items then exited the store.
When Loreto sat down beside her husband, she could feel the intensity with which he was reading. “What is it?” she asked.
He had to be nudged before responding. “Look,” Porter said showing her a piece in the entertainment section. The headline read, “The Benwarian Blues Band to Play at the Univeristy of Arizona.”
Loreto read the opening paragrah out loud, “The Benwarian Blues Band featuring Traveller Orlovsky will be performing at Centennial Hall on Friday, December fourteenth. Come see the band that has toured with Fleetwood Mac, The Doobie Brothers, and Kiss. In their solo debut, expect to be rock and rolled.”
“He’s the boy you told me about, isn’t he?” asked Loreto.
“Yes. He’s hardly a boy anymore, more like a young man. I can’t believe he’s using the name of our people for his band. Not very discreet is he?”
“He’s young. What do you expect?”
“I expect him to keep a low profile and not draw attention to himself. I briefed him to stay in the background now he’s become a rock star. I wonder how many people know he’s an alien.”
“We’ll have to find out,” Loreto said going back into the store. When she came back, she had two tickets for the Benwarian Blues Concert. “I got us close to the stage. The tickets were more expensive, but you’re a rich gold miner from South Africa that spares no expense.”


Chapter 45 - Concert Night

Willy and Lori had both received concert and airline tickets from Traveller for the Benwarian Blues first solo concert. He had also paid for three nights at the Luxury Inn. The resort hotel with its pink adobe main building sat on fourteen acres of gardens, fountains, and flowers with the mountains providing a beautiful backdrop to a place noted for its service.
Although they had taken separate flights, Willy bumped into Lori at the Tucson airport as she was waiting for her luggage. His face lit up when he saw her grab a blue suitcase from the carousel. “Hey girl, how y’all doin’?” he asked taking the case and carrying it for her.
“Hi Willy. You in town for the concert?”
“Yeah, I’m here on Traveller’s dime. Damn fine of him. I ain’t seen him for over year. I thought he all forgot ‘bout me.”
“I didn’t even get to see him the last time he stopped in Pocatello. It’ll be good to see him again,” Lori said.
“Y’all stayin’ at the Luxury?” When she nodded yes, he said “I’ll get us a cab. You goin’ to school this summer?”
“No, I just received my Master’s degree in Literature. I’m kind of in limbo. I might take some time off and travel. I hardly see you anymore. What are you up to?”
“I graduate next fall. I’ve got an offer to play European basketball when I’m through. Maybe make it to the pros if I work hard enough.”
“Far out,” she said just as the cab pulled up. Willy loaded the luggage. Once inside the cab, they compared tickets. They were sitting in the yellow section in front of the stage. “We’re right next to each other. That’s great.” Lori was relieved she wouldn’t have to sit by herself.

On the night of the concert, Willy escorted Lori through the orange brick archways of Centennial Hall on the campus of the University of Arizona. They converged with the mass of people flowing down the middle of the half circle of seats that faced the stage. Orange chairs outlined in black metal disappeared as they accepted their guests. The auditorium bustled with excitement.
Willy stopped at the third row back from the orchestra pit. He guided Lori to a seat directly in front of the middle of the stage. When he turned around to make sure his chair was down, he found himself staring directly into the steely blue eyes of a man with light blue-white skin. Willy turned his head and sat down.
“Lori,” he said just loud enough to be heard over the crowd, “look at the guy sittin’ behind us.”
Lori glanced to her right and back. What she saw caused her to stand up and introduce herself. “Hi, I’m Lori.”
The man stood up also. He towered over her at six feet two inches tall. When he looked down, he said, “Blake Hollister.”
“You look familiar. Are you related to Traveller?”
Porter had learned to be cautious after the debacle in South Africa. “Who’s that?” he asked.
“The lead singer of The Benwarian Blues Band.”
“I doubt it. I might know him though, but I haven’t seen him yet to be sure. Do you know him?”
“Oh yes. We were roomates for a while.”
“How much do you know about him?”
Lori could read Porter’s expression. It asked if she knew Traveller was an alien. “Enough to know he can’t stand the cold,” she said. “Can you?”
“Tucson doesn’t get cold,” he said evasively.
Willy had stood as they talked. Now he interjected himself into the conversation. He held his hand out and said, “Hi, I’m William Thomas, Traveller’s blood brother.”
Just as Willy finished his introduction, a stage hand walked to the microphone in front of the stage curtain. “Testing, one, two, three,” he said tapping the microphone.
“Let’s talk after the show,” Porter said. “Here’s my card in case we get separated.”

After the emcee was granted the silence he asked for, the band was introduced. “And now the greatest thing to come out of Idaho since the potato. Give it up for the Benwarian Blues Band.” The crowd stood up to applaud and whistle as the curtains separated to reveal Austin playing the bass guitar. When the crowd quieted and sat down, Jesse came out, picked up his drum sticks from the seat, sat down, and joined in. Next came Tim on the keyboards. Each time a band member entered the noise grew louder.
Finally a tall long haired male dressed in black leather emerged from stage right carrying a sparkingly blue and white Fender electric guitar. He pugged it into the amplifier before jumping in front of the mike and yelling,
“We gonna rock and roll tonight. Anybody out there want to rock and roll?”
The crowd jumped to their feet screaming, “Get it on! Go Traveller! Yeah baby!”
Traveller started this concert as he had so many others with ‘Ship of Fools.’ “The human race is dying out. No one left to scream and shout . . .”

***

Porter watched as the only Benwarian he had seen in over three years transformed himself into someone else from one song to the next. When he sang Steppenwolf, he became John Kay. On a Doobie Brother’s song he was Michael McDonald. He played a couple of Beatles songs as Paul McCartney donning a black wig and then looking and acting exactly like one of Porter’s favorite musicians.
Interspersed between his own songs and those of others, he slipped in a perfect rendition of Jim Morrison. Each time Traveller slipped into Morrison mode he brought a silver flask to his lips and drank.
For Porter, it was the first time since leaving South Africa that he had seen music bring a crowd together. Music and a common cause had united Africans into a swaying, dancing mass of togetherness. This time, though, it was a hedonistic orgy of fun.
After the newness of the experience began to wane, Porter began to observe his young friend. There had been a profound change in Traveller since they had left the mother ship. He seemed sluggish, depressed. Even though he was able to sway and engage the crowd, Traveller was taking no joy in this performance given on autopilot. He engaged his spectrometer to assess Traveller’s aura, but the stage lights made it impossible to gauge the colors as they blended with the red and blue strobes.
At a pause in the program, Traveller went to the microphone to address the audience directly. “Can somebody tell me where I came from? Did I fall from the stars? Was my mother’s womb the sky? How did I get here? Was it a vast conspiracy between the universe and Earth?” he said to the crowd now quiet. He looked out as he took a pull from the flask, and his eyes locked on Porter’s.
Porter watched him stagger back, wipe his eyes, and shake his head to break the eye contact. “It’s all a dream!” he screamed. “No one’s getting out of here alive!”
“He recognized you. What’s wrong with him?” Loreto asked.
“He’s drunk. He’s a drunk,” Porter replied.
“How can you tell? Maybe, he just drinks during a performance.”
“He’s afraid of me,” Porter said as Traveller raised his thumb up to the stage technician and the music suddenly increased in volume. Porter listened as he sang,

I have a new lover,
She’s blowin’ my mind.
Her lips are so tender,
She makes me feel fine.

With the crowd dead quiet after the song, Porter turned to Loreto and asked, “Who is Jacki Daniels?”
“It’s a brand of whiskey,” she answered.
“That isn’t acceptable Benwarian behavior. Self pity isn’t tolerated. I’ll have to do something.”
When the concert ended, the auditorium went dark. “One more! Give us another song!” those in attendance shouted as they gave the band a standing ovation. Several in the crowd held up lighters. The flames quavered in the dark like fireflies.
After several moments a spotlight fell on Traveller. He was grasping the microphone with a fedora pulled down over his eyes. Not until the silence became complete did he launch into his final song, ‘The End’. When Porter heard Traveller sing the words, “Father I want to kill you,” and then, “Mother I want to kill you,” a wave of shock washed over him. Traveller’s scream of anguish made Porter realize that something profound had happened to Traveller since he had been on Earth.
The song ended with the lights going slowly out and Traveller hanging his head. The lights gradually brightened after the band had exited the stage.
Willy and Lori immediately turned around to talk to Porter. “Well,” Lori asked, “do you know him?”
“Undoubtedly. I desperately need to talk to him,” Porter replied. “Where are you staying?”
“Right near here, at the Luxury Inn,” Lori said. “We’re supposed to get together with the band tomorrow afternoon around twoish.”
“Great, I’ll arrange for high tea at one of the poolside terraces. See you then.”Chapter 46 - High Tea

Porter and Loreto arrived early to oversee high tea. Both of the South Africans paused to admire the beautiful setting. With its impeccable desire to please, the hotel staff had arranged a table on a terrace overlooking the rectangular pool. The blue water caught the sun and threw it back into the sky with sparkling reflections. An orange border of slate rock separated the bright blue pool from the green lawn. Yellow recliner chairs in regimented rows looked like banana soldiers lined up for inspection. Red hyacinths dotted the area with infiltrated color.
“A setting worthy of Benwar,” Porter complimented.
“Even better, a South African estate,” Loreto agreed.
“Let’s see to the kitchen,” Porter suggested. He took Loreto by the hand. When they entered the kitchen, the chef and sous chef were preparing cucumber, egg and cress, and ham sandwhiches. Scones with clotted cream and jam had already been prepared. The pastry treat, at Lori’s request, was deep fried twinkies. The smell of steeping tea made an aromatic collage of smells.
“By the universe! This is simply acroluminous,” Porter told the chefs.
“I hope that’s a good thing,” the head chef replied.
When Porter and Loreto got back to the table, Lori and Willy were talking to Tim and Jesse. Lori made introductions.
Jesse, never shy and always curious commented, “You look so much like Traveller. The blue skin, the body build. Are you two related?”
Porter smiled, “Let’s just say we were born to the same race.”
“Really? So you’re from Benwar? Wow, how many of you are there?”
“There were four of us on the planet. I have no idea if the other two survived. I hope so.”
“So what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a gold miner with several other businesses.”
“And the accent is?”
“South African. Please sit down,” Porter suggested gesturing to the chairs.
“Traveller might be a little late,” Tim said. “He usually sleeps well into the afternoon after a concert.”
Porter looked at Lori. “Shall I have them serve us?” he asked.
“What do you think?” Lori directed her question to Tim.
“I would,” he replied.
Jesse sat directly across from Porter and Loreto. Lori sat next to him with Willy across from her and next to Loreto. Tim sat by Willy so he could talk to Lori. Two waiters, one for each side of the table, approached to take orders. Everyone had tea but Jesse; he ordered a beer.
“Is the bass player coming? He looked to be a few years older than the rest of the band,” Porter addressed Jesse.
“Austin? He never leaves Traveller’s side. He’s like a pet human, and he is older. He’s a war veteran.”
“Interesting. I’ll bet he has some stories to tell.”
“He told us about Vietnam once, but he saw some some heavy shit and doesn’t like to talk about it. He still has nightmares. We picked him up hitchhiking. When Traveller took him in, he was homeless.”
“So Traveller is a man of compassion,” Porter said.
“He used to be,” Lori answered. “Now he’s quiet and keeps to himself.”
Traveller appeared out of nowhere. Lori could feel him standing behind her. “Hello Lori,” he said touching her on the shoulder. She stood, turned, and hugged him. Keeping him close to hide the tears.
When they broke contact, Porter, Loreto, and Willy stood up. Porter reached his hand across the table. “I was wondering if I’d ever see you again,” he said keeping his eyes on his fellow Benwarian.
“Hi Porter,” Traveller shook hands but kept his eyes averted. Porter could smell whiskey on his breath. He saw someone approach from behind. “And you must be Austin,” Porter said shaking his hand also.
“And you must be Porter. Traveller’s told me about you.”
“Yes, he’s come a long way since we knew each other.”
“He’s a good friend.”
“That he be,” Willy said stepping up to shake hands and hug his blood brother. “I miss you man.”
“Hey Willy,” Traveller said with affection.

After the introductions everyone sat down. When the waiters that brought the tea and sandwiches asked the new arrivals what they would have to drink, Traveller and Austin ordered tea. Porter nodded at one of the waiters who left and returned with an ornate pot with pink roses and green leaves painted on bas relief designs. He poured the tea from it into Austin’s cup and then Traveller’s.
After everyone had tea and sandwiches, Porter stood up. “I want to thank everyone for being here. I’ve arranged for a very private affair, so please speak freely. I’m sure you’re aware that Traveller and I are both Benwarians. We are part of a mission sent to study and observe Earth and its inhabitants.
I was instructed not to become too involved in the affairs of humanity but to observe objectively. I have failed miserably. I, like my fellow Benwarian, found friendship and even love on what is sometimes an inhospitable planet and at other times a great source of joy,” Porter said looking around the table.
“Tell them why the other 2400 Benwarians are coming here,” Traveller interrupted.
“Our planet was destroyed. We are looking for a home.”
Traveller took a sip of tea before asking, “What kind of home?”
“One with a stable environment where a sustainable civilization can be established.”
“Yes sir folks,” Traveller said as he stood up staggering a little. “And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how to accomplish this. Human beings will either be exterminated or their numbers will be drastically reduced. Isn’t that right Porter?”
Porter stared at Traveller for a moment as he thought. “Possibly, most probably they will restructure societies here on Earth to make them environmentally neutral. I can’t imagine our people exterminating everyone. Is that why you’ve numbed yourself with alcohol? You’re afraid your friends will be killed?”
“Touché, Porter. You know better than I that humans will have to be eliminated. This world is overpopulated. I can’t bear to think of Lori or any of my friends being exterminated to make room for our people.”
“Listen, you weren’t at any of the high level mission briefings. We were told to examine humans and see if any are worth saving. I’ve sent reports back to the ship detailing the many humans that are. You’re right, the human population will be reduced to sustainable levels, but the ship won’t be here for almost fifty years. We have time to change things for the better,” Porter replied.
“How do you change the ways of over four billion people?” Traveller asked as he picked his cup from the table and drank some of the unspeakably tasty tea.
“I do it the only way I can, one person at a time. You can do it with your music. You can reach the masses. I listened to your concert. Your voice touched my soul at times. Think what you could do with a purpose greater than trying to forget about losing the ones you love?
Traveller you have a long time to enjoy these fine people,” Porter said spreading his arms and looking at those assembled at the table. “Make use of it.” As Traveller looked at his friends, Porter deftly engaged his spectrometer. His Benwarian friend’s aura filled his vision. The white and yellow of reason and knowledge were stipled with the red of anger. The aura was made dim with an overlay of grayish black that smothered it like an octopus with its tentacles firmly grasping the light of Traveller’s soul. With each sip of tea the black mass diffused.

The humans at the table sat stunned by the exchange between the two Benwarians. They could feel the power and light surging from one to the other as they spoke. None had realized that Earth had been marked for Benwarian colonization. For all, it was the first time they had questioned the certainty of their existence.
When the two aliens paused, Lori stood. “Neither of you are responsible for what will happen to the human race. I hate to use anything Biblical, but we are the ones that will reap what we have sown. If our treatment of the planet is so abusive that it is being destroyed, maybe it should be taken away. Judging by you two, the Benwarians on the ship will do what they think is necessary and fair. I’m not going to quit living to worry about it and neither should any of the rest of us. So let’s enjoy our tea and sandwiches.”
“Here, here,” said Jesse raising the beer that didn’t taste quite as good as before.
Traveller sat down in unison with Porter. He finished the last of his tea and then poured another cup. Austin mirrored his friend. He, too, had another cup. There was something in the tea they craved. Traveller’s addiction made way for it. He felt the craving of the last two years lessening with each sip.
When Jesse stood up to signal a waiter to bring him another beer, Traveller said, “Here try this.” He leaned across the table and poured a cup of tea from his pot into Jesse’s cup. The watching Porter smiled. He loved it when things worked out.
Willy had watched the verbal exchanges with his eyes wide. Now he turned to Loreto and whispered, “Damn, black people can’t catch a break. We finally shakin’ off the yoke of the white man and these aliens gonna put an end to all of us.”
“Are you scared Willy?” Loreto asked.
“Yeah, I be scared. You?”
“Porter will take care of us. He always takes care of his friends,” she replied.
“But what about the rest of the world?”
“They have a while to change their ways and develop. Those who don’t will perish.”
“So the Benwarians will be the judge and jury. Man that’s messed up.”
“It’s Earth’s history. Those with the most advanced technologies always win out,” Loretto replied, adding, “Only this time they’ll come from outer space.”
“Knowin’ this shit’s gonna hang over me like noose. Ain’t no justice in this world, none.”
Willy and Loreto stopped talking when the rest of the table fell quiet. Porter had overheard part of their conversation. “You’re right Willy. This world screams with injustice. It is led by the rich and powerful. Two qualities that inevitably corrupt all human beings. I’ve observed senseless wars, famine, racial and economic inequalities that were not allowed to exist on Benwar. We stood by and observed while our world was destroyed by the rich and powerful of other nations. They sucked the life out of the planet. Maybe it’s time the meek inherited the Earth, those who live in humble simplicity.”
“I’m sorry Porter, but haven’t you made yourself rich while you’ve been here?” Traveller asked.
“Money is of no consequence to me. I seek no status from it, but you’re right, I have become wealthy since I landed here. If I measure my wealth in those I have lifted up and given hope to, if I measure my wealth in the smiles of my friends when they see me then I am a very wealthy man,” Porter replied.
Loreto jumped to her husband’s defense. Addressing Traveller she said, “My man makes Earth a better place to live. He gives succor to the poor and challenges those he comes in contact with to become better people than they were before. He finds money abhorrent. He will not touch currency in any form. I have to make almost all of the financial transactions. You could learn much from your fellow Benwarian. I do not give my love lightly, but I give my heart freely and without reservation to this great man. I suggest you do the same.”
Traveller had always resented Porter. He saw his fellow Benwarian as a rival, someone to best. He knew in his heart that none of that mattered to Porter. Porter wanted what’s best for Traveller. Traveller took another sip of tea and felt more of his anger dissipate.
He listened to Loreto, “I was taught by my father that each person has to become a warrior for her or his soul. One must fight the urge to take and take from others and the planet and learn to give. It is the only way a person can leave the world with a soul that God can smile upon. Only when people realize this will humanity have a chance to survive.”
“Therein lies the problem,” Traveller asserted, “How do you get over four billion people on the same page? What’s happening here is like Lemmus all over again, mindless consumption of resources with no thought for the future. I don’t want to watch this world deteriorate and I don’t want to be here when Ship arrives to correct the problem.”
Porter nodded yes and then continued, “So you’re going to drink yourself to death? There’s a lot of life to be live before Ship gets here. Don’t just give up. The only thing you can control is who you are. Are you Traveller Orgen, the Benwarian with all the potential in the universe, or are you Traveller Orlovsky, the human who wants to be like Jim Morrison?”
“I understand what you’re trying to say. It’s just too painful to think about losing any of my friends. I’ve never had friends before.”
“But you’re already losing them,” Porter explained and then in a voice choked with emotion he said, “And I have always been you’re friend. It hurts to know you think otherwise.”
The truth of Porter’s words finally made Traveller realize what his affair with Jack Daniels had cost him, time with his friends, time to laugh and enjoy, to sing and dance without being numbed by a narcotic. He recanted, “I’m sorry Porter. You’ve been a better friend than I deserve.”
Traveller looked at Lori and then Willy, Jesse and then Tim, and finally at Austin, “You have all been better friends than I deserve.”
Overcome with emotion, Austin, who usually hid in silence, stood up and looked at Traveller, “You saved me from a slow, horrible death. You made my misery bearable. There is no better friend!”
“Damn straight,” Jesse agreed.
“I’ve got no complaints,” said Tim.
“You always gonna be a brother,” said Willy.
Traveller looked around gratefully as he realized that despite his shortcomings these people still cared for him and then his eyes fell on Lori. She was hanging her head and staring into her plate. He walked over to her and gently took her arm.
When Traveller pulled her up, she turned her head. Their eyes met with matching jewels of tears. Light glistened through them. “And you Lori. I promise to be a better friend from now on. I’ve missed you.”
“I was wondering if you’d ever come back,” she said into his chest as she hugged him fiercely.

Chapter 47 - Renewed Purpose

The Benwarian Blues Band had decided to stay in Tucson until their next concert. It would give them a few weeks to mend the broken relationships caused by Traveller’s fling with Jack Daniels. He and Austin were invited to stay with Porter and Loreto. Lori had also accepted an invitation. Tim and Jesse would stay in the band’s bus now parked in Porter’s driveway. Willy stayed at the inn where Loreto would pick him up every morning at eight.
Each day began with tea and a light breakfast of fruits and cottage cheese. Traveller, Austin, and Jesse would be served from their own separate pot by Rosa and Manuel Gutierrez whose job it was to keep everyone happy so that there were no interruptions in the discussions. The Gutierrezs were also encouraged to participate if it suited them.
On the first day after the brunch, Porter took Austin aside with an arm around his shoulders. He listened intently to Austin’s account of the My Lai Massacre. With a masterful use of the tension in the hug he conveyed sympathy and a deep understanding. For a second, Austin’s pain faded into a painful memory. From that moment on, he trusted Porter without reservation.
After Austin shared his nightmare, Porter suggested, “The Benwarians have developed a drug that will keep what happened to you from rising from to the surface. The nightmares will become a thing of the past. No living being should be tortured for the rest of their life for fighting against the dark side. It will allow you to live a normal life. I will archive the events so that they are not lost to history.”
When Austin agreed, Porter had Manuel drive them to his mountain ranch where the Vietnam veteran received the injection. The effect was immediate. The waves in Austin’s mind quit crashing against the shore of his psyche and the sea calmed.
The tension Austin had lived with since the trauma of My Lai dissipated. He couldn’t remember why he had been upset for what seemed like ages. He looked gratefully at Porter, “My God, where have I been all these years? Suddenly I feel like I’m twenty again.”
“Isn’t it amazing? Now you can start over again. It will be a new beginning without nightmares. Now you can dream again,” Porter said.

While Porter healed Austin, the band members discussed the new direction their music would take. Jesse, Tim, Traveller, and Lori had moved to the living room as Rosa cleared the kitchen table after their brunch. Traveller began the conversation. “First of all, I think we need to expand the band and add Lori as a singer/ songwriter. What do you guys think?”
“Sis? I can’t deny my only sister, she’ll tell Mom and Dad,” said Jesse.
“It’s a great idea as long as we don’t have to sing about John Steinbeck,” Tim agreed with a smile.
Traveller looked at Lori, “What do you think?”
“What about Austin?”
“He’ll be fine. Porter’s going to cure him. He’ll be better than new. We need you to write and sing. You two can trade off playing bass,” Traveller suggested.
“In that case I would love to,” Lori agreed.
“Welcome back,” Traveller said as he hugged her. “Now we are going to change the band’s direction. We need a motivating purpose, something to keep us focused. After listening to Porter’s suggestion, I think we should shift toward singing all of our own stuff. We’ll write songs about the world around us. I’m thinking we should write lyrics that educate and enlighten while at the same time creating music that entertains.”
“That’s a tall order. You mean like folk music?” asked Jesse.
“Some folk, but more of a mixture of music that appeals to a broad audience,” Traveller replied. “Our purpose will be to raise the social consciousness of as many people as possible.”
“I can get into writing songs about social issues,” said Lori.
“Yes, but we’ll also write songs that tell a story or describe some aspect of the world around us. The messages contained in our lyrics mustn’t be so didactic that they have no entertainment value. I think we should always write meaningful, soulful lyrics to be accented by the melodies we set them to.”
“It’ll have to be a gradual transformation or you’ll lose your audience,” said Lori.
“Agreed. And there are a few songs I’d like to keep performing anyway like “Ship of Fools,” said Traveller. “And I will always love the blues. It’s part my black heritage. Thanks to Willy.”
“And Jack Daniels,” said Jesse. “You can use it to tell your own story.”
“Mark this day on your calendar folks. Jesse just came up with a good suggestion,” Tim chided.
“I’ve got another idea. Let’s make our concerts an experience. We can act out some of the songs, make sets that enhance the songs, change into costumes that go along with our performances. Kind of like Alice Cooper or Kiss. We’ll give people a high impact experience that will leave them awed,” Jesse said.
“Another great idea. You’re already doing some of that when you change your persona, Traveller,” said Tim. “Our fans will love it!”
Lori lit up. “I love it!” she exclaimed. “We make our show into a theatrical performance, a musical like Rocky Horror Picture Show.”
The Benwarian Blues Band brainstormed for over an hour before they finally started planning for their next concert in Phoenix in three weeks.

The band was just finalizing their repertoire when an overly loud knock resounded on the front door. “It’s Willy,” said Traveller.
“How do you know that?” asked Tim.
“I can smell him.”
“That cold blooded,” said Jesse smiling.
“No, I’m serious. Don’t forget that we Benwarians have better developed senses than you humans. Besides, he and I share the same blood.”
They could hear Rosa open the door and then Loreto exclaim “Hey, how you doin’, black man? You come in, you be the second best lookin’ person in the house.”
Willy laughed, his eyes a twinkle, “Damn, that must mean you be number one.”
Loreto’s voice raised an octave, “Do I get your vote?”
“Damn straight. Except for Lori and Rosa, everyone else in this house be ugly.”
Just then Traveller and Jesse entered the room. “Traveller didn’t turn ugly till you gave him some of your blood,” Jesse quipped. “And if I’m not better lookin’ than you it’s because everyone’s blind.”
“Hey people!” Willy said brushing past Loreto to hug Traveller and shake Jesse’s hand with Lori watching from behind. When Willy saw her, he threw Jesse sideways and held his arms open for a hug. Lori stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek while he embraced her. He held his right hand open behind him to shake Tim’s hand.
“If it ain’t the Benwarian Blues Band. Where’s Austin?”
“Porter’s takin’ him to the ranch to be healed,” Loreto answered.
“They all say when they be back?” Willy asked.
“Sometime this afternoon,” said Loreto. “Porter said to call a cab to take you to the airport if he’s not back in time.”
“You’re leaving?” asked Traveller.
“I’ve got to get back before Christmas. There’s a team practice on December twenty-sixth. I don’t make it, I don’t play,” Willy explained.
“How is ISU doing this year?”
“We’re second in the Big Sky. Montana’s a game up on us. We play’em next.”
“I miss playing basketball,” Traveller said.
“Me too,” Jesse agreed. “‘Member when we beat you guys in that tournament?” he asked Willy.
“Man, we didn’t know what was what. Ole’ Traveller be all over the court blockin’ shots and makin’ baskets. I couldn’t believe my eyes. You should’ve seen it, Loreto.”
“I’m sure,” she said. “Benwarians have a strange way of being in one place one second and another the next.”

Porter’s kitchen filled with the excited sounds of reminiscence for the next couple of hours as tea was sipped out of porcelain cups. Loreto traded stories about South Africa and her husband for tales of college life and Traveller’s encounter with rattle snakes and fighter jets.
Traveller listened with rapt attention when Loreto related how Porter had tracked down her father’s assailants and tied them together in the streets of Soweto. Two of them had become Porter’s dear friends and now ran an orphanage funded by the Benwarian. It made Traveller wish he had contributed something positive to this world he had escaped to.
She had just finished telling her favorite story about Porter trying to ride a zebra when the front door opened, in the same instant Porter appeared at the kitchen table.
“Lawd, I can never get used to that,” Willy said startled.
“What’s that, Willy?” asked Porter.
“The way you Benwarians can appear out of thin air.”
“We don’t just appear. We’re just able to move faster than the average human.”
“It be more than that, man. What you all do is unreal.”
Porter laughed, “Reality is all in your head. I did come in time to catch the tail end of Loreto’s story about the zebra. All of us have tried to ride a zebra at one time or another haven’t we?”
“I’ve never even seen one,” said Jesse.
“I think he means figuratively,” Lori said.
“Huh?”
“He means that everyone tries to do something impossibly stupid at some point in their life,” Lori explained.
Jesse looked astonished. “Oh yeah? Name one thing you’ve done without thinking about it for a long time.”
Lori’s face clouded up and raindrops formed in the corners of her eyes. “Believe me, little brother, I’ve done some very stupid things, but now is not the time or place to talk about them.”
Porter broke the spell of everyone thinking about the stupidest thing they had ever done by announcing, “Willy has a plane to catch in about forty-five minutes.”
Traveller, whose head hung low, looked up. “I hardly got to talk to you. We’ll have to get together soon. When is spring break?”
“Last week in March,” Willy said. “If we don’t make the NCAA tournament, I’ll give you a call.”
“If you do make it, maybe I can catch a game,” Traveller said suddenly realizing that Austin wasn’t in the room.
“Hey, what did you do with my friend?” he asked Porter.
“He was going to load Willy’s bags and wait in the Corolla,” the Benwarian replied.
“He okay?”
“He talked all the way home about the band and music. I think he’s feeling profoundly better,” said Porter.
Overcome with emotion, Traveller stood up from the table and approached Porter with his hand out. Porter beamed as he shook Traveller’s hand. He was able to control the tears until Traveller pulled him forward and hugged him.
“You can’t imagine how much that means to me,” Traveller said.
“That’s what it means to be a Benwarian, to leave the world a better place than you found it,” Porter replied as they parted.
While Porter and Traveller were having their moment, Willy was saying his good-byes to the rest of the people in the household. He had just hugged Lori goodbye and was now shaking hands with Jesse. “Damn Jesse, I be missin’ you like a bad cold. No, more like a cold sore. No, like a hot hemorrhoid..”
Jesse laughed. “You’re still upset about Tim and I beatin’ your butt to the spaceship. I can’t help if it white people are smarter than black and blue dudes.”
“You be a black and blue dude, you keep it up.”
“I hate to break you two love birds up,” said Porter, “but it’s time to go.”
“See you guys at the next Klan rally,” Willy said waving with a broad smile flashing white teeth like rows of corn as his friends shouted a final goodbye.
Once outside, Traveller and Willy sat in the backseat with Porter in the front passenger side. Austin was at the wheel whistling to a song on the radio. “Ready?” he asked after everyone was buckled in. “Let’s make like birds and get the flock out of here.”Chapter 48 - Contact with the Benwarians

Porter sat in the pilot’s seat of his spaceship talking to Traveller. He had backed the ship out of its hangar and sat it down in front of the compound’s doors. They were waiting for the moonless night to overcome the dusky light that was rapidly relinquishing its hold on the day.
“Your parents will be so glad to hear from you,” Porter said.
“And I them. I haven’t contacted the ship since we landed here.”
“I know. I download my journal log every three months. The Communications Office has a permanent request from your father and mother to ask about you. They don’t even know if you’re alive or not.”
“I’ve been so self-involved that I’ve rarely thought about my parents. Since your tea party, I’ve felt totally different about them and a lot of other things. I can’t believe my callous disregard for those I care about.”
“They will be so happy to hear from you that they won’t care what you were thinking about. Communications is going to patch your through to father’s lab so you can talk directly to him.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s a standing order from your father. Communications tells me every time I contact the ship.”
The compound dome had become black with the dark night. Porter used his remote to open the door before he engaged the pod’s thrusters causing it to glide out into the night air. “I’m going to elevate above the clouds before I contact Ship,” said Porter.
The ship’s engines engaged building up thruster pressure. The pod accelerated straight up into the night air passing through the thin, misty clouds. Ten thousand, eleven thousand, twelve thousand mezures, after rising another thousand mezures, Porter brought the ship to hover-stasis and contacted the Benwarian mother ship.
After his log containing atmospheric, oceanic, and terra form measurements of chemical compositions was downloaded, he gave the news to the communications technician. “Tell the Orgens I’ve made contact with their son. He’s in the pod with me now, if they would like to speak to him.”
“I’m instructed to immediately transfer this communication to Fa Orgen,” he said. Their was a slight blip on the screen before Traveller’s father appeared. “Yes?” he said when Porter appeared on his console.
“Fa Orgen. Greetings. I’ve found him.”
The normally stoic Benwarian visibly brightened. “How is he?”
Porter moved aside to let Traveller continue the communication. “I’m fine Father. How are you?”
A smile flashed briefly on Fa Orgen’s face before he regained his composure as he sat in his laboratory. “Traveller, how nice to see you. You can’t imagine how worried your mother has been. From all accounts, the world you find yourself in is a hostile, violent one. It seems humans are full of Lizerian aggression. We thought you might have fallen prey to their thirst for blood.”
“They are not that bad. I’ve actually made some great friends. Most humans aren’t violent. How is Mother?”
“I’m going to transfer you to our quarters. You can see for yourself. Take care. I hope to talk with you again”
Another slight blip and suddenly Traveller was viewing his parent’s living room. A second later, his mother appeared on screen. “Yes?” she inquired, staring at someone that seemedt too old to be her son.
“It’s me, Mother. How are you?”
“Traveller? My Traveller? By the universe, you look so much older,” she said with tears in her eyes. “Oh Traveller, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I’m very well. And you?”
“You’ve lifted a heavy weight from my heart. I felt so guilty after you left. I thought it was my fault.”
“Not at all, Mother. I was bored.”
Traveller visited with Mame’ Orgen for several minutes relating some of his more sanguine adventures before the communication’s technician interrupted them. “General Battier will speak to you now.”
Traveller barely had time to say good bye before General Battier’s stern countenance appeared. “I see you’re still alive. I wondered after Space Pod Three’s signature ended. What happened?”
“It was shot down by the United States Air Force,” Traveller replied.
“That is a blatant act of aggression! You had no offensive or defensive capabilities. The pod posed no threat. Why did they destroy it?”
“I was spotted. They intercepted me and ordered me to land. The pilot warned me that I would be fired upon if I didn’t. I didn’t want to compromise the other Benwarians’ presence so I engaged self-destruct just before they shot. I obliterated all evidence of our existence. I’m sorry.”
“And well you should be. You’re lack of judgment and training have cost us a valuable resource. I’ll have the engineering team prepare offensive as well as defensive weapon systems before we get to Earth. We cannot risk any more damage from these primitive barbarians.”
“But General, they are …”
General Battier cut him off, “You forfeited an opinion when you subverted our mission. Don’t waste my time with your ill-considered views. Put Fa Tellez back on.”
“Yes sir,” Traveller said miserably.
“I commend you for finding our young renegade. You are to keep him with you and employ him as you see fit,” the general ordered.
“Yes sir,” Porter answered. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Find out all you can about the primitives’ weapon systems and technologies. I don’t want to be caught unawares when we land,” the general answered before communications ended.
“What have I done?” Traveller asked as Porter cut the transmission.
“You’re not responsible for what is going to happen. The general’s job is to protect the Benwarians aboard ship. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Okay, but he ordered you to keep me with you. No offense Porter, but I’m an adult. I don’t want to stay with you.”
Porter smiled. “There’s something about Earth that makes one into a renegade. I was told not to interact with the “primitives.” What’s he going to do when he finds out I married one?”
“So you’re not going to try and keep me with you?”
“You are so good at stealth and subterfuge that you’ll escape from beneath my very nose,” Porter said smiling.
“Thank you, Porter. General Battier means business. Will he destroy the human population?” Traveller asked.
“General Battier is under the command of the Sanctum Just. He’ll do what they tell him to.”
“But won’t they have to eliminate humans to save the planet?”
“I don’t know,” Porter said to keep Traveller from getting upset. “I do know that that’s a question we don’t have to worry about. The decision isn’t in our hands.”
The two men rode in silence as the pod descended. Porter hummed gently as Traveller thought about what the general had said. He felt bad about losing the pod, about the heavy burden his mother had felt worrying about whether her son had survived or not. I’ll do something to redeem myself he thought.
The pod whirred to a stop in front of the docking doors. Porter pressed a button on the console and they separated. When he moved the spaceship inside, the panels slid shut again. Porter came to a gentle stop cutting the engines.
Porter had been deep in thought for several minutes; it worried Traveller to see that something was bothering his fellow Benwarian. “What’s the matter?” he finally asked.
“I’m worried that you don’t understand the culture you came from. Our biologists have discovered that the main driving force of all living organisms is to procreate to keep one’s genes in the pool of existence. We are no different. The Sanctum Just’s primary goal is to ensure the survival of the Benwarian race. That comes first. After that prime objective, their goal is to preserve all other life forms.
“In the predicament we find ourselves in, saving Earth and establishing a sustainable civilization for our people must take precedence over all other considerations. This is what we were told in our last briefing. The Sanctum Just’s second consideration will probably be to restore the balance of nature. I suspect that once they discover how similar humans are to us that they will want to save the more evolved members of this civilization.
“Unfortunately, humanity is creating more problems than they are solving. The planet already suffers from many symptoms of overpopulation. The atmosphere, hydrosphere, and terrasphere all suffer from the build up of harmful chemicals and other pollutants. My measurements of green house gases in the air and mercury and other chemicals in the water clearly demonstrate a rapidly accelerating degradation of the environment.
“My projections of population increases and the resultant increase in heat trapping particulates indicate that the “tipping point” whereby Earth will spiral into environmental chaos and the damage caused becomes irreversible will occur in approximately thirty-five years. Earth will lose its ability to sustain life in the second decade of the twenty-first century unless we can effect the changes needed to preserve the integrity of the planet,” Porter concluded.
Traveller shook his head vehemently from side to side. “It isn’t going to happen. There are too many people to educate and too few leaders to make a difference in their consciousness. It would take a massive shift in the way this civilization is headed.”
“I agree. The only thing we can do is educate all those we come in contact with in the hopes that they will be saved from the purge. I hope that somehow our people will be able to distinguish the enlightened from the apathetic.”
Traveller thought for a moment and then said, “General Battier isn’t going to stop to ask someone if they’re enlightened before he eliminates them.”
“Of course not, but I’m sure our scientists are seeking a solution to the problem. The Sanctum Just and therefore General Battier will be governed by their findings. If nothing else, we’ll use this underground bunker to save those we love. I have workers digging ever deeper to build and reinforce underground bunkers. They will be stockpiled with supplies. Water is supplied to each living space by an underground spring I’ve tapped into. Once the invasion is over, we’ll contact the mother ship.”
“That’s fine for you, but what my people?”
“Your people are my people,” Porter replied. “You’ve made some fine friends. I’m proud to be associated with them; they’ll be taken care of. I’ve made a lot of money by finding gold deposits. The Earthlings have an oil based economy. My success has allowed me to buy up oil properties and drilling rigs. As the population increases, so will the demand for oil making my purchases ever more valuable. If you or any of your friends ever need money or anything else you have but to ask.”
“Thanks Porter. I’ll remember that.”
Chapter 49 - Ship of Fools Concert

Traveller watched the clock. He had ten minutes before he was to go on stage. As he watched the minute hand orbit the numbered face of time, he thought of the tearful good-byes that had taken place a few weeks ago. Parting from the Tellez household had been bittersweet. He now had a profound appreciation for Porter and Loreto. Despite his initial reticence, they had persisted with their kindness and concern until the perverse barriers he had constructed to protect his ego had been broken down. Porter had also pulled him from the clutches of Jacki Daniels. He would be eternally thankful for that. He would liked to have stayed longer, but the band had this concert scheduled.
Traveller had also made amends with Lori. Despite Tim’s reluctance, the two of them had designed a skit based on Of Mice and Men. Working on the skit together had renewed the bond between them.
Traveller played the part of Lenny and Tim portrayed George. They were both dressed in blue coveralls with red plaid shirts. Lori would play Curley’s wife.
Before Lori and Traveller wrote the song that went with the performance, they had had a discussion about the characters. Traveller couldn’t relate to Lenny.
“But you have to play his character. You’re taller and bigger than anyone else. Lenny is supposed to be huge,” Lori had said.
“But he’s slow and dull. We never had anyone like that on Benwar,” Traveller objected.
“What do you mean? There must have been at least one slow person on your island.”
“No, our doctors would terminate the pregnancy if the baby wasn’t normal. We were living on an island; each couple could have only one child. If the fetus wasn’t healthy, it was destroyed. It was a matter of survival.”
Lori didn’t reply for a second, and then she said, “Lenny couldn’t understand the world around him. He depended on George to take care of him and explain things. Imagine being dependent on someone else for everything. How would you feel? It’s kind of like when you first met us. You didn’t know how to fit in our world because you didn’t understand it, only Lenny will never understand his.”
“That is so sad.”
“But in Lenny’s case, ignorance is bliss. As long as he had George and something to eat he was happy. So wipe all the complex thoughts from your mind and be simple. Think George and eating.”
Tim had stood by silently until now. “And George? What was he like?”
“For some reason, he felt responsible for Lenny. He took care of him. He also used him as a rationalization for why he couldn’t be successful. He had to take care of Lenny, but both of them shared a dream. It was to have a place of their own where they would be safe, where no one would bother them. Lenny loved to hear about their dream. That why I love this story so much. Everyone seeks sanctuary. Everyone wants to go back to the womb where conditions are perfect. Isn’t that what the Benwarians are seeking? ”
Lori continued, “So we’ll start with Lenny clutching a teddy bear, squeezing it so hard that the stuffing comes out of it while he’s walking with George.”
Tim will begin by singing, ‘I have a dream,
We’ll get us a place,
You’ll tend the chickens,
I’ll feed the cow.’
Then you’ll sing, ‘Yes, George. How will it be?’
Tim will sing the next set of lines, ‘won’t it be grand?
We’ll live off the land.’
Then Traveller will sing, “I’ll feed the rabbits. You feed the pigs.”
Both of you will sing the next set of lines, ‘We’ve got no family.
Gotta stick together. We’ll take care of each other.’
Then I’ll enter stage right as George exits stage left. I’ll flirt with Lenny and sing, ‘I was gonna be somebody, a star in the movies. But it didn’t happen so I married Curley.’”
And then we’ll all sing, ‘She wouldn’t leave Lenny alone, he tried to be gentle. He stroked her hair, but she started to scream. With too much strength, he ended her dream.’ Traveller will stroke my head and the try to muffle my screams.”
“When he twists my head, I’ll lay dead on the floor. At his point, Tim comes back on stage and the two of you sing, ‘We had a dream. It made everything fine. But the boss’s wife brought pain and strife.’”
At this point we’ll dim the lights and have scuffling, chasing noises. When the lights come back up, the band will sing, ‘George put the gun,
Put the gun to his head. And when he shot, Lenny was dead.’”
“Finally, we’ll put the spotlight on Tim and he’ll sing, ‘With a shot to his head, I ended his dream. Now, Lenny is dead in a world that’s obscene.’
Again we’ll dim the lights. When they brighten back in we’ll sing, ‘I’ll Get By With a Little Help From My Friends.’”

The more the band had practiced the play, the more Traveller could relate to the human condition. The Benwarians were facing a similar dilemma. They were seeking a place of safety, a place where they could survive without existential angst. He understood Lori’s appreciation for John Steinbeck.
On the final rehearsal before the concert, Traveller had taken Lori’s hand and looked into her eyes with gratitude. “Thank you so much,” he had said.
“For what?”
“For exposing me to John Steinbeck, for sticking by me, for helping me understand the world I’m in.”
He had held his hand out, and she took it. Traveller drew her to him and kissed her on the lips.
Although the alien was unaware of his effect on her, Lori felt the electric pulse of understanding and love course through her veins. Flushed, she had kissed him back. When the kiss ended, he had held her for several minutes thanking the universe that he hadn’t lost her.

Traveller’s reverie was broken by Jesse. “It’s time to go on!” he shouted knocking on the dressing room door. “The crowd’s getting restless.”
Traveller belted his black leather pants and threw on a matching fringed leather jacket on. He pulled the dark granny glasses from the dresser, put them on, adjusted them. Next, he put on a curly brown, shoulder length wig and centered it. He smiled remembering his stint as Marilyn Monroe then left the dressing room.
When he walked on stage, the band was playing the driving rhythm of Road House Blues. Traveller pulled the microphone from its stand and jumped up with one hand in the air. The crowd roared as he sang, “Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel . . .”
Next, he sang ‘Been Down So Long,’ and then ‘L.A. Woman’. After that the lights dimmed. When they came on again, Traveller was dressed in a white western shirt with a cream colored Stetson perched on his head. He was taller now in his Tony Llama cowboy boots. As a rocking Hank Williams, he sang ‘Honky Blues’, ‘Honky Tonkin’, and ‘Jambalaya’. By the time he ended the session with ‘Mind Your Own Business’, the crowd was screaming.
The lights dimmed again. When they back came on, Traveller was dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans with black Converse tennis shoes. The white highlighted his blue skin. Now, he sang Jacki Daniels and several of the band’s own compositions.
After several songs there was a brief intermission before ‘Of Mice and Men’ was performed followed by the songs ‘I’ll Get by With a Little Help From My Friends’ and ‘Put a Little Love in your Heart’. When the set ended the lights dimmed yet again.
The lights slowly brightened for the final portion of the concert. Now Traveller was dressed as John Kay, the lead singer of Steppenwolf. He sang ‘Magic Carpet Ride’, ‘The Pusher’, and then ‘Monster’. When he finished, the lighting technicians sent the stage into utter darkness. The crowd let out a collective moan before chanting, “Encore, encore!” Those with lighters or matches held up burning flames of protest.
This was the moment in the concert Jesse had been waiting for. He dropped his instrument and slipped under the stage. When the crowd quieted he knew Traveller was standing in the spotlight. He took the cannisters out of the packing crate and waited listening to the alien’s monologue.
“I come from a distant galaxy, from another planet. My world filled up with toxic waste until it devolved into a lifeless orb caused by the indifference and mindlessness of all those who lived there. My world suffered the same symptoms as yours, overpopulation, neglect of the planet, and ever increasing amounts of green house gases spewing into the air. There was social injustice, the uneven distribution of wealth, and the wanton use of natural resources. All these contributed to the end of the health of the planet and ultimately its death.” Traveller screamed in anguish before the band started playing and then he began his song. “The human race is dying out . . .”
Jesse waited until most of the lyrics had been sung before throwing the canisters. Traveller was singing the final chorus, “Ship of fools, ship of fools, ships of fools . . .,” as the tear gas filled the auditorium.
The crowd headed for the exits with tears in their eyes and a burning in their lungs. They were surprised at how quickly the smoke filled the room, at how stifling the searing gas was. They jostled and pushed each other in a mindless panic to survive. It was everyone for himself. Luckily, Traveller had had the foresight to station ushers at each exit. They calmed people down and guided them out of the building.
Even though no one was hurt, afterward many felt a deep sense of shame that they had abandoned friends or dates to escape from the gas. It was a palpable lesson that few in attendance that day would forget. In their panic, no one had noticed the band members putting on gas masks and slipping into the equipment van.


Chapter 50 - Porter’s Past Catches Up to Him

Dr. Mengala hadn’t been able to let go of his anger toward the so called Professor Bloomen. His investigators had discovered his real name, Porter Tellez. He knew that somehow Tellez had put a monkey’s paw infected with the Ebola virus in his car causing him to contract the disease that had been created by Triton Labs.
Mengala had never been so sick. It was only when he had agreed to call his security men off of Professor Bloomen that Dr. Clark had given him a treatment for the disease. Only by taking it had he survived and now he wanted revenge. He wanted to make sure Tellez suffered for the pain he had caused.
He also suspected that Tellez had killed one of the workers at the lab. Nate, one of the animal keepers, had been found with his throat ripped out. Mengala had hired Nate to scare Tellez away from his investigation of Triton Labs, an investigation that had shut the lab down for several months. Only through the intervention of the United States Pentagon had Triton be able to resume operations. Mengala had good reason to hate Tellez or Bloomen or Blake Hollister as he was now known.
Dr. Mengala had spoken to the South African Defense Force and found out that they were looking for Tellez also. They had pursued Tellez in the township of Soweto but somehow he had escaped. Their intelligence officers hadn’t been able to ascertain his whereabouts until six months ago. By following a letter trail and tapping a Tellez sponsored orphanage’s telephone calls, they had traced him to Tucson, Arizona.
Dr. Mengala had hired two private detectives to track and photograph Tellez/Hollister. So far they had several incriminating pictures of him sheltering and helping illegal aliens. Recently he had been photographed with a man who looked so much like Tellez that Mengala surmised that they were related. The man had been identified as Traveller Orlovsky. A quick investigation of Traveller’s origins had ended in the same dead end trail as Tellez’s.
Dr. Mengala had compiled his information and photographs before calling a good friend located high in the echelons of the Immigration and Naturalization Service. Over the last several days a Border Patrol agent working with the FBI had discovered what Mengala had suspected. Professor Bloomen and Porter Tellez were the same person, a person with no past. They had also discovered that Blake Hollister was deceased and that Tellez had stolen his identity. Dr. Mengala was sitting in his office when he received a telephone call from his friend, INS Deputy Chief Smith.
“Dr. Mengala, I have great news. We’ve taken Blake Hollister into custody.”
“That is good news. What’s he charged with?”
“Illegal immigration, human trafficking, and identity theft. We’ll be able to hold him without bail until our investigation is done.”
“What about his friend?”
“We’re working on that. The FBI and the Border Patrol are trying to locate him as we speak.”

Chief Patrol Agent Donovan received a phone call from the Arizona Highway Patrol a half hour after Dr. Mengala had been informed of Porter’s capture. The Benwarain Blues Band’s bus had been sighted by a patrolman on I-17 going north presumably toward Flagstaff. An intercept had been set up at the I-17 and I-40 junction. In addition to the highway patrol, there were several FBI Agents and over a dozen U.S. Border Patrol officers awaiting the arrival of the band.


Chapter 51 - Captured

Jesse slowed the bus as he approached the road block. The highway patrolmen were waving cars and trucks through the sawhorse barriers. He crawled the bus along with the rest of the traffic expecting to be waived through. Tim was riding in the seat behind Jesse.
“I wonder what’s going on?” Tim asked.
“They’re looking for someone. Sure glad I don’t smoke dope anymore,” Jesse quipped, “otherwise I’d think they were after me.”
Lori had awakened when the bus slowed down. She walked to the front of the bus rubbing her eyes. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I hope this doesn’t wake Traveller and Austin up too. They didn’t get much sleep last night,” Tim said. Both men were in the back end of the bus. It was partitioned off into sleeping quarters and the door was closed.
“Traveller finally drank some of that special tea Porter gave him. I don’t think he’ll wake up for a while,” Lori answered.

The bus had been creeping forward for over fifteen minutes. As Jesse approached the roadblock, more and more officers appeared at the barriers. When he looked in the rearview mirror, he saw that the traffic had been stopped well back of the bus. Suddenly, two patrols cars came in from each side of the freeway with their lights on. They filed in behind the bus. The officers in front motioned for Jesse to pull into a turnout so the other traffic could go by.
Suspicious now, it didn’t surprise him to be stopped by the man in the dark blue uniform, but he wasn’t alarmed. They had done nothing wrong.
Jesse pulled up to the barriers and stopped. He watched a group of patrolmen approach the doors of the bus. He turned to Lori and said “Better warn Traveller, there’s something wrong.”
Lori dropped to the floor and crawled to the back of the bus. She knocked lightly on the door of the sleeping quarters and whispered a warning to the two sleeping men.
When the policemen got just outside the bus, Jesse pulled the doors open and asked, “What seems to be the problem officers?”
“Step out of the bus,” the lead patrolman ordered.
“Did I do something wrong sir?”
The patrolman raised his voice and demanded “You two gentlemen step out of the bus now.”
“But officer we didn’t . . .” Jesse began to protest until he found himself staring into the barrels of the guns of several policemen.
“Hands up, out of the bus!”
Jesse and Tim both raised their hands. The minute Jesse stepped off the bus, he was thrown to the ground and handcuffed. Tim was just coming down the steps when he was pulled from the bus to be thrown alongside his friend. He, too, was cuffed. Both were dragged away to a patrol car.
Several officers entered the bus with their service revolvers drawn and pointed at Lori. “Please don’t shoot!” she screamed with her hands up.
The patrolman in the lead rushed up and pushed her face first into one of the seats. He grabbed both arms and held them together behind her back. She was handcuffed as other officers filed by.
The door of the sleeping quarters was just opening when it was kicked in by an officer knocking Austin down. The first officer barged into the room, jumped on Austin and grabbed his arms. Another followed behind. He trained his revolver on Traveller. “Don’t move!” he yelled.
Lori also yelled, “Don’t let them take you. You’ve got to escape!”
Traveller stayed calm, kept his eyes locked on the man with the gun. “It’s okay, I’m not armed,” he said before he impelled into the officer’s chest.
The patrolman fell over the officer bent over Austin knocking both of them into the door. The handcuffs clattered away as one bowled into the other. Traveller moved like lightning to shut the door. He grabbed the gun, threw it aside, and then held his hand over the man’s mouth. At the same time he put his foot on the other officer’s head preventing him from crying out.
Traveller caught Austin’s eyes and motioned to the bed, “Rip the sheet up and make some gags and something to tie these two with, quick.”
While Traveller kept both policemen secure, Austin bound and tied them. One of the other officer’s was already pounding on the door and yelling, “You guys okay in there?”
“We’re fine,” Traveller mimicked the one who had stuck the gun in his face. “We’re just cuffing them.”
“Let me in.”
“I will. Just a minute,” Traveller said.
“You’ve gotta get out of here. There’s no telling what will happen if they take you in,” Austin whispered.
“How am I going to do that, there’s two police cars behind the bus,” Traveller said.
Austin grabbed Traveller and moved him away from the policemen before he whispered, “I’ll jump out and create a diversion. When you leave, go left. Get down in the median and run back toward the road blocks. Keep low and move like you’ve never moved before. On three.”
At the three Austin burst out of the door and ran between the two police cars. Both officers jumped from their vehicles to give chase. Not until their backs were turned did Traveller burst outside. He shut the door behind him before he impelled into the median. Crouching down, he ran north toward the roadblock. He glanced back to see swarms of officers running to the back of the bus. A gunshot rang out from where they were heading, but he kept moving.
Traveller ran east into the maize of police cars, ambulances, and border patrol vehicles. Arriving at one of the ambulances, he ran around behind it and kept it between himself and the bus. He waited a few minutes watching the traffic going through the road block as it crawled north. The people driving the cars kept glancing back toward the bus while their passengers looked backward trying to see what was going on.
Traveller knelt down and inched toward the line of traffic waiting for a pickup with an open box he could climb into. After several minutes a blue Ford pulling a horse trailer crawled past. Rather than jump into the back of the truck and risk being caught, he did a series of impellments until he found himself on the passenger side of the trailer. A couple of the drivers behind saw a bluish blur but couldn’t distinguish what it was.
Traveller stepped onto the wheel well of the horse trailer and flattened himself against the side. He stayed there as the truck turned at the junction and headed west. Traveller talked to the horse nearest to him and petted it so he wouldn’t be stomped. It wasn’t until then that he realized he had impelled. By the universe! I thought Willy’s blood was weighing me down. I’m still a Benwarian. Acroluminous! I was thinking too much just like Porter told me.
Several minutes later, the traffic opened up. The cars flowed around the slower moving Ford. When there was a large enough gap behind the horse trailer, Traveller grabbed the back end of the frame above the tail gate and hoisted himself inside between the horse he had befriended and the wall of the trailer.
The alien rested by leaning on the horse’s back. He reflected on what had happened. Since the time he had known Lori, she had constantly cautioned him not to let the authorities arrest him if there was any way he could escape. She said he would be locked away forever. Traveller had read enough about incarceration to know he wouldn’t be able to take it. Even a short stay might cost him his sanity.
Traveller thought about Austin. His suggestion to escape back into the roadblock as he created a diversion was sheer genius. Traveller would have been caught otherwise. It wasn’t until then that the gunshot was remembered. By the universe! Surely they didn’t shoot him. If they hurt any of my friends, I’ll destroy them! Damn, I wonder why they were after us? We haven’t done anything wrong. Lization! I’m an American citizen. What am I going to do now?
The truck started slowing down. Traveller looked out between the metal bars of the horse trailer to see that they were exiting the freeway. He decided to wait until the driver reached his destination and then he would plead for the man’s kindness and mercy. I hope he’s a good human. I’m not familiar enough with the way things work on this stinking planet to make it on my own.
Traveller watched out the slats of the trailer. They were traveling on a narrower highway. After a few minutes, the truck passed through a small town. A short time after that the Ford turned right onto an even smaller road, one with ruts and washboards. Now dust filled the trailer as it bumped up and down with an occasional fish tail.
They traveled several miles on what the alien thought was the most primitive road in the universe until the truck slowed to a crawl and turned yet again. Traveller changed his mind when the truck started bouncing over rocks and ruts so deep that the trailer threw the horses into the air. This was the most primitive road in the universe.
They were winding their way up the side of a mountain. The evergreens on both sides of the road became ever more numerous until the terrain reminded him of where he had first landed his spaceship. He had never felt so alone.


Chapter 52 - The Homestead

Eventually the road smoothed out. It crested and then they drove down through a forest heavy and dark with pine trees. Traveller’s stomach felt funny like there was a bird in it beating its wings to get away. He hadn’t been this nervous since he had blasted off into space.
The road stayed along the edge of the trees. Through the openings on the other side of the trailer, Traveller saw a stream meandering through a meadow of spring green grass. Black Angus cows dotted the landscape. The air felt crisp. It smelled clean almost pristine. The marvel of it took away his apprehension, he calmed.
Eventually the road ambled away from the forest. A half mile further, it ran parallel to a pole fence. On the other side, between the trees and the fence, four large muscular Angus bulls were eating grass. Only a few minutes later the pickup turned back toward the trees going up a lane bordered by the pole fence. Traveller could hear two dogs barking with joy at the pickup’s approach. It slowed just past the end of the fence as it passed the out buildings of weathered wood on either side of the road. The pickup stopped, idled for a second and then all was quite.
Traveller climbed out of the horse trailer and stood on the driver’s side of the truck as still as the day. When the door opened, an old man in a sweat stained straw cowboy hat crawled out of the pickup. He stayed bent over holding his back until gradually straightening himself against the pickup. The dogs cavorted between and around the man’s bowed legs, legs that reminded Traveller of the wishbone he and his friends had wished upon at Thanksgiving.
Traveller watched the old man pet the dogs before he became aware of Traveller’s presence. He turned and their eyes met. “Glory be! Praise Jesus! You’re the one from my dreams.”
“I am not a Christian, but I come in peace,” Traveller said holding up two fingers like the protesters he’d seen on television.
Glen looked at him shrewdly before saying with his eyes twinkling, “Dad gummit, I’ll be the judge of that. Do you believe in helpin’ your fellow man?”
“Yes sir. I was taught to make the world a better place.”
“Well then, you’re Christian enough for me,” he said and walked over with his hand extended. “Glen Berryman,” he said as they shook.
“Traveller Orlov . . . Traveller Orgen.”
“I know the good Lord sent you, but how did you get here?”
“Inside of your horse trailer.”
“Tarnation! And you didn’t get stomped to death,” he chuckled. “You must have a way with horses. Well come on then, let’s get’em out of the trailer and into the corral where they belong. Virginia’s probably got dinner fixed by now.”
Traveller followed the bull-legged old cowboy to the back of the trailer. When the old man fumbled with the trailer latch, Traveller lifted the hook that held it and let the gate down.
“Thankee,” Glen said as he moved into the trailer and untied one of the horses. He backed it down the ramp formed by the gate. When it was clear, he handed the lead rope to Traveller.
Glen hobbled back inside the trailer. As he untied the other horse it snorted kicking its back feet up. “Whoa, easy now,” he said. The horse backed down the ramp with its eyes wide. Once its back feet hit the ground, it reared up and jerked Glen forward off of his feet. One of the front hooves caught the old man in the head. His cowboy hat was smashed into the ground as he covered himself with both hands
Traveller dropped the rope in his hand. He impelled forward catching the recalcitrant horse by the halter. Holding it with a steely grip, he looked into the wild eyes until it calmed and stood as docile as an old nag. He tied it to the side of the trailer before grabbing Glen by the arm and helping him back onto his bow legs.
Glen dusted himself off. “Gosh dang turd licker like to killed me. Good thing the Lord sent you to us. Never did see anyone move that there fast before.”
“No one sent me here,” Traveller said picking up Glen’s mangled cowboy hat and handing it to him. Glen rubbed the knot on his bald head before plopping the hat back on.
“Heh, heh, heh, that’s what you think. What in tarnation made you hitch a ride in a horse trailer anyways?”
“I was trying to get away from some humans.”
“You mean all those danged police were after you?”
“Yes sir and I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Then why in tarnation are they after you?”
“I didn’t stick around to find out.”
“Heh, heh, heh, so you just happened to jump in an old man’s trailer who needs a ranch hand? Who dreamed about you? Who’s so old and crippled he can hardly move? The Lord works in mysterious ways, that he does.
“Listen sonny, you put them there horses in that corral over yonder and come on up to the house. I’ll have Virginia set an extra plate,” Glen said before he turned and walked away. He turned back once to point to a contraption and say, “You can wash up at the pump.”
Traveller watched his wishbone legs wobble up the path before gathering the horses and leading them to the designated corral. How does someone’s legs get that way? If they bend any more, they’ll break he thought.

Traveller walked up to the log cabin. He wondered if it was the one Abe Lincoln grew up in. To the right of the path leading up to it was the pump. He pulled the handle up but no water came out. There was a stump nearby with a bar of soap and a towel on it so he knew this was where the water was. He grabbed the soap and waited.
After several minutes the door to the cabin opened. Glen stuck his head out laughing, “Heh, heh, heh, it’s a pump. You have to move the handle up and down, city slicker.”
Traveller turned red under his blue skin. When he moved the handle up and down the water came out but he could only hold one hand under the flow.
Glen laughed again. “Fill the bucket,” he said pointing to the other side of the stump.
Traveller turned red again. He grabbed the bucket and filled it. The water was ice cold when he cupped it in his hands. It took his breath away. His forehead tingled as he washed the dust from his face and hands sputtering. With all the excitement, Traveller hadn’t realized how cold he was. He had escaped without a jacket and even though it been a relatively warm March day, the temperature was beginning to drop.
Glen held the door open until his godsend finished. The late afternoon sun was drooping into the mountains leaving the sky red and angry. “Heh, heh, heh, come on in.”
Traveller followed his nose into the warmth of the cabin. The delicious smells of homemade rolls, steak, potatoes and gravy brought salivation to his mouth. My salvation brings salivation Traveller thought.
“Virginia,” Glen said, “this is the man I told you about. Meet Traveller.”
Glen’s wife was as aged as he. Her grey hair was thin, her face filled with the rivulets of old age, but her eyes were those of a young person. She came forward and held her hand out.
Traveller remembered a scene from a movie. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “It is an honor to meet you, Virginia,” he said.
“The pleasure’s mine. Glen said you’d be here today. He told me how you saved him from bein’ stomped to death. I don’t know what we’d a done if you hadn’t showed up. Well, sit down and eat, it’s getin’ cold.”
Traveller did as requested. He filled his plate with food before smothering the potatoes in gravy. The alien hadn’t realized how famished he was. He relished each bite with hunger seasoning and gravy for sauce. Both made this meal heavenly delicious.
After dinner Traveller helped Virginia clear the table. Each plate shook in her gnarled hands as she picked it up from the table to set it in the sink.
Traveller watched with awe wondering how these two decrepit human beings had been able to take care of themselves until now. He was so overcome with pity that he insisted on doing the dishes. Virginia sat at the table. With the weight off of her arthritic ankles, she teared up with gratitude.
Traveller carried water in, heated it up, and washed the dinnerware while Glen stoked the logs in the fireplace. Soon, bright orange flames danced behind the spark screen. “Come yonder and sit. Tell me all about yourself.”
Traveller held an arm for Virginia helping her out of the hard wooden chair at the kitchen table. He walked her to an arm chair. She held his arm to lower herself into the well used furniture. “Glen, you was right. He is heaven sent. I swear I was ready to give up till he came, and he’s polite for a young’n.”
“Heh, heh, heh. I told our payers’d be answered. Come sit over here son,” he said patting a place next to him on the couch. “Tell us all about yourself. How comes the law’s after ya?”
The two octogenarians stared at him with rapt attention as he began his tale. He told them of his escape from the mother ship, of finding friendship, of gaining U.S. citizenship, of his battle with the cougar, the befriendment of the rattle snake, and his career as rock star. He left Jacki Daniels and Porter out of the story.
“So that’s why they’re after you,” Glen said nodding his head.
“Why? I’ve done nothing wrong,” Traveller said.
“Yes you have. Not only are you an alien, but you’re an illegal alien. You can’t just up and forge your own papers and be legal.”
“The only paper I faked was my country of origin. I couldn’t tell the authorities I’m from outer space, could I? I passed the naturalization test square and fair.”
“I’m afraid the INS doesn’t see it that way. I wonder who tipped them off. No matter, you’ll have to stay here for a while and let things blow over. We should be able to get some help come summer. Until then, I’ll pay you room and board plus $2.00 an hour to help us out.”
“What about my friends? They won’t know what happened to me.”
“That’s a good thing, son. At least for a while. With that many officers after you, they must want you awful bad. If I was the police, I’d watch your friends; let them lead me to you. They ever find out you’re a real honest to God alien from outer space, there’s no telling what might happen.
Let’s give it a few months then I’ll take you to town and you can call one of your friends. Me and Virginia’s ‘bout at the end of our rope with our feet dangling anyway. With your help maybe we can regain our strength, take care of ourselves.”
“It doesn’t bother you that I’m an illegal alien?”
“I’ve hired more’n one in my lifetime. People are people, gotta eat, sides I knowed you was an alien before you told me. I saw it all in a dream.
“How ‘bout it? You want to keep some old people from dyin’?”
“Yes, it beats being behind bars.”
Chapter 53 - A Temporary Resolution

The Benwarian Blues Band members were detained for over a week until their backgrounds could be checked. It wasn’t until then that Lori had been able to contact her father who called Senator Church. Church had personally contact the INS and FBI to facilitate the release of Lori, Jesse, and Tim.
Obtaining Austin’s release had proved more difficult. He was charged with resisting arrest. Luckily, the political tide had turned as the country soured on the Vietnam War. The populace no longer saw protestors and people like Austin as traitors. Eventually the rest of the band members posted his bail and he was released. When his case came before a judge, it was thrown out. Austin hadn’t committed a crime and there was no reason to arrest him.
While in captivity all four had been mercilessly questioned about Traveller Orlovsky. Where did he come from? How did he get American citizenship? What was his connection to Porter Tellez? Telling the truth never crossed their minds. All any of them said is that they didn’t know he wasn’t a citizen, didn’t he pass the test? When asked where they thought he was now, they could truthfully say they didn’t know.
Lori gave it a month before she called Loreto to find out about Porter. It was determined that he had violated American naturalization laws. He was scheduled to be deported to South Africa in two weeks. Once there he was to be met at the airport and taken into custody by the South African Defense Force. Loreto would go back to South Africa with her husband. She and Sandiko were overseeing his many businesses.
In the two weeks since Traveller had arrived at the Berryman’s he had been kept extremely busy. The first order of business was to split fire wood and replenish the stockpiles winter had depleted. With his help Glen and Virginia kept the spring chill at bay.
Traveller fixed fence, cleaned house, and helped feed the cattle. Glen would drive the old Ford while the alien threw flakes of hay off the back end. On the third day of his stay, Glen had him catch the two horses that were easiest to ride. Traveller walked them to the barn where Glen instructed him on how to put a saddle on. Once the cinch was tight, Glen put bridles on the two horses. “This’n here’s called Ginger,” he said holding the reins for Traveller.
“Hello girl. How you doing, Ginger,” the alien said immediately attached to his beastly transportation.
The old rancher showed Traveller how to put one foot in the stirrup and throw the opposite leg over the saddle to mount. When Glen couldn’t quite get his leg over, Traveller gave him a boost. With Glen safely aboard, the alien mounted his horse.
“Pull the reins left like this to turn,” he instructed when they reached the end of the fence. They rode down the road a piece until coming to a steel panel gate.
“Pull back on the straps to stop,” Glen said. “Get off and hand me your reins so you can open the gate.”
The old cowboy explained how to ride a horse as they rode through the pasture. They spent the day checking the mother cows. Some had calves at their side, others were close to calving. Toward the end of the day, they came upon a cow trying to calve. The calf was coming breach, back legs first.
Glen roped the cow. He had Traveller slip another rope on the legs sticking out from the cows back end. Next, Traveller tied the rope to his saddle horn. He gently coaxed his Ginger away from the cow until the calf slid out.
Once the calf was clear, Glen yelled, “Get off and clear the after birth away from the calf’s head.”
When Traveller had the placenta pulled away, Glen said, “Stick a twig in its nose so it’ll sneeze.”
The alien did as instructed. The calf shook its head sputtering evacuating the mucous from its nasal passages. “Good job, son. Now you know how to pull a calf.”
“That was acroluminous!” Traveller exclaimed wiping the slime on the grass.

Glen could see how well Traveller and Ginger had bonded. He kept the alien supplied with sugar cubes to keep her sweetened up a bit. After the first week Glenn saw the carrot that would get the alien to stay. “Son, if you was to stay here and work for six months, I’d throw in that horse as part of your wages.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“She’s takin’ a likin’ to ya. So’s Vriginia. We’re up shit creek without a paddle if you leave.”
“Thank you Glenn. You’re a good man,” Traveller choked.
It wasn’t until ten days after that that things slacked off enough for Traveller to dwell upon the past. The last two weeks had consisted of getting up at dawn and working till dusk. This was a Sunday. There were no cows ready to calve, he had prepared the Sunday meals ahead of time, and everything was set for him to ride unencumbered into the forest. He loved riding his horse. She whinnied with glee whenever he approached.
He saddled Ginger just as the sun started to warm the air. He led the mare behind the house where he had spotted a trail leading up into the forest. He often wondered where the trail led. He often wondered where his trail would lead. On this particular Sunday he would try to answer the first question. He didn’t want to think about the second.
Traveller shrugged on the old sheepskin coat Glen had given him before gaining the saddle. The horse took off at a brisk pace spurred on by Traveller’s anticipation.
Ten minutes of upward battle slowed the horse to a steady pace. The trail moved continually to the right. The smell of fresh water molecules filled the alien’s nose. That was the smell of life according to the Benwarians. Soon the sound of rushing water followed. The trail turned upward along a ridge that followed a stream. When it came into view, a pair of bull elk looked up from the water’s edge from where they were drawing a drink. They held their heads high with pride as they turned away from Traveller and snorted off into the trees.
The horse had worked itself to a lather with the accompanying steam lifting into the air. Before the trail diverged from the stream, Traveller dismounted. He led the horse above a beaver dam and let it sip some water remembering what Glenn had said about letting it have too much. She whinnied and he gave her a sugar cube then scratched behind her ears. She nudged him affectionately.
He continued on. It took another forty-five minutes to get above the tree line. The trail zig-zagged back and forth on a shale slope, the first one he’d seen since he and Willy had raced Jesse and Tim to the spaceship. The memory triggered a thousand thoughts about his friends. By the universe I hope their safe and well. We sure had ourselves a time!
At the top of the shale, a rock formation jutted out of the mountain. Traveller walked Ginger to its base and then dismounted. He took the saddle off to let her cool not bothering to tie her. They had bonded, she would wait for him. After all, he still had a sugar cube.
Traveller moved around the base of the formation until he found a place where it could be climbed. It took over forty minutes to scale the rock. When he got to the top, the view took his breath away. The green valley stretched east and west into the distance. The navy blue ribbon that was the river wiggled its way across the distance. Between the baby blue horizon on the far side and the green-grassed meadow, pine trees pointed their shafts at the sky like bough-feathered arrows as they marched up the far mountains. The scenic wonder filled him with emotion. I’m well. I’m going to be okay.
His thoughts were so electric, so strong that they carried across the miles and across the turbulence of life to the bearer of the image that burned in his mind.

Lori had been worrying about Traveller all day. Finally, she tried reading to take her mind off of her precious alien. Her mind wandered as the words seemed to dance on the page. I’ll never meet anyone like him again. When we were together it was like touching the rain or bathing in the sun. I miss him so much. What will happen to him without his friends to protect him?
She had just disciplined herself to concentrate, to quit worrying about things she had no control over when she heard Traveller speak as clearly as if he was in the room with her.
“I’m well. I’m going to be okay.”
Lori closed her book and hugged herself imagining that her arms were his arms.

The End

Imprint

Publication Date: 02-17-2010

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To all those who have ever been bored.