Science-Faction

By TS Caladan

Science-Faction is an anthology of 41 short stories in two paperback volumes and one e-book from the mind of TS Caladan. Visit strange planets, meet superhero characters, and look at the world and the universe through a new lens. These thought provoking tales are sometimes an alternate reality, a conspiracy theory revealed, or a humorous tome, just for fun. There’s something here for everyone. Enjoy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TWB Press
• Release date: Jan 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781944045296

TS Caladan

Tray Caladan was born Doug Yurchey in Pittsburgh in 1951. An only child, he retreated into his imagination and drew fantastic pictures. Later, he drew backgrounds for “The Simpsons” and earned a tennis scholarship to Edinboro State as an art major. Afterwards he started the ‘Art Trek’ gallery in Pittsburgh. There he met a psychic (Katrina) who forever changed his life. Her insights sent him on a course to solve great mysteries. Nikola Tesla’s observations helped him solve riddles of Atlantis and ancient pyramids. His articles, videos, radio shows, theories, patent, games, and writings have earned him international acclaim throughout 40 years of researching natural and alien phenomena. His positive message of a ‘New Human Genesis’ pervades his science-fiction and his art, as well. Tray lives in Northridge, California, on sometimes shaky ground, with his cat (Monkie) and a large library of UFO and science books.

Book preview

[Author’s note: Let’s begin with an alternate ending to my Book Two of the Traylogy, SON of ZOG. The following new universe was not a dream: it was real, yet it paralleled the dream Continuums. It happened a very long time ago in another world when Outer Space was White and full of energy].

An alarm rang, that was not an alarm! The device only woke Cal and Mary out of a restful and needed sleep. Cal was alive and in the physical world, again. He shut off the alarm. He looked over at the other half of his life, his wonderful wife, Mary. He really loved her after many happy years.

They didn’t want to get out of the hover-bed. So they didn’t. The blonde Caladans stretched at the same time and shook their dreams away as the real world formed around them…

Their dome-home on Simar was (strangely) not produced by artist and architect, Cal. The round walls and amazing, curved ‘spacial’ areas, which poured into other areas (rooms) under the white dome, were created by one of Cal’s favorite designers and painters in the galaxy: Rog Vean. To own a Vean dome original was a boyhood fantasy of Cal. Rog even signed it.

The only part not created by ‘Rog’ was the power-antenna high over center of the dome, which (like all devices) was powered by pure frequencies everywhere.

Maybe I’ll build an original of my own in the back…smaller, of course.

They recently bought an exquisite ‘township’ called Avalon, which was filled with orchards of purple Yarbello trees. Location of Caladans’ dome-home was slightly off from the purple township’s center and near the base of a pink mesa that Cal called Pree. They did not own their little, black shat named Eo. It was more like…she owned them.

The Caladans’ only child was not a child anymore. Sam was 16 and away at the Priesthood with other boy-scientists at Simar’s Prime Temple of Higher Learning. It was the brilliant boy’s first yarn away from his parents and Home Schooling. He was on his way here. Late this Cycle, a very much anticipated family reunion will occur inside the white dome-home.

They were all happy and good.

Almost everyone was happy in a world without night, without knowledge of what night was or anything associated with black space or pure evil. SPACE WAS WHITE! Space was lit like all the universes (except one). Space had power, energy and magnetism and full spectrums of such frequencies. Space and atmospheres were filled to capacity with glorious White Magic or Love.

On Simar, like on about every planet and moon, skies were WHITE, like the space beyond. At times, weather happened in pretty pastels and spectral colors. Light turquoise or orange rain and snow or light green hailstones or even pale, violet fog and clouds appeared on the sacred planet under the usual skies and White Outer Space.

On Simar, it was the Priesthood’s Spirit within gentle, soft, white temples that taught great and natural truths down to microscopic truths, beneath the surface of all things. Deep purple and sometimes pink landscape along with ancient souls of ancestors helped guide scientific minds of the present among the sacred and very beautiful ‘Temple’ shrines. It was a natural education of peace and love and science and music and art and math and the learning of pure facts.

What was truth?

Unfiltered, untainted facts and actual truths were taught to young boy and girl ‘cadets.’ Teachings were not training programs of the ‘Union’ or lame, State-sponsored Media programs. The cadets and potential priests were not part of military indoctrination in any way, shape or form. The Simaran Priesthood was not a military academy or trade school. The curriculum of Truth often blasted / criticized / exposed the evil politics of the Republic and United Federation before it. Cadets were guided by wisdom to Question Everything. Question Authority. Question the State or whomever was in power. Question what various Medias broadcasted, incessantly: propaganda and LIES. Students were taught and knew reality and therefore saw the truth.

Son Sam was part of an enlightened education program on Simar that any moral Citizen would be extremely proud of.

Cal and Mary made sure their son truly advanced himself from the Home Schooling that was well provided for Sam’s first fifteen years. Now he learned by light-yarns and from wise, reincarnated masters at the Prime Temple of Higher Learning. Sam’s parents thanked the blessed blue suns in White Space that their young man did not attend bogus Galactic College or State-sponsored business schools, but instead of most children…

…Chose the Simaran Priesthood as a cadet on the road of pure science and math and was destined to find truth and understanding in time. Cal and Mary were relieved that Sam was in good hands with warm hearts at the Temple. He would not be trained into rogue belief-systems or political lies of the State or Union or Party and be one more Citizen for the Republic. Cal and Mary Caladan did not support the reigning galactic Republic.

GST was 2101.3000000.

Time did not matter~

Mare?

Yes, my love?

Did you have a weird dream?

She was stumped for a quarter ya, then answered, "No, um…no, ah. Now that I think of it? Well, maybe something, something I remember…"

"You do remember it?" Cal asked and then he yawned.

You think we had the same dream?

He replied, Ulp, ah, well. Don’t know. Mine was so…so, so lucid… Cal had his hands behind his head and he stared up into the curvature of the dome. What do you recall about yours, Mare? He listened closely.

She spoke up as if flashes of another place and time suddenly appeared. It concerned a State Trooper, a high-ranking guard…who had a change of heart. Ah. Or was it an entire metamorphosis into a Being so, so different than a Centurion ‘android’ with blind obedience to the Republic?

Did he have a name? Cal had a hidden reason for the question.

What? Mary snapped away from the images in her mind.

Do you remember his name? Cal Caladan asked his wife.

Give me a ya. I have to concentrate. She concentrated. Ca…LAD…rian. Caladrian Trask, I think was his name…

…Cal absolutely froze as if he was immersed under a cold Pool of Zog. Then he acted a part and ‘innocently’ asked, Like our name? Was he me, Mare?

She was not aware of the pause. For one a bit psychic, she didn’t notice the deception.

Oh. You wouldn’t want to be this Bozzer, darling. He was a Zog-awful killer, my love. She smiled and was also prone and looked up. I think I know you fairly well over the last twenty yarns, dear. You’re nothing like this terrible, cruel, evil, evil man, Cal.

Mary and Cal were extraordinarily sensitive and occasionally psychic. They were not on the high order of seers and great Mystics in the galaxy, but they knew they tapped into certain odd abilities or possibilities of the senses. They were very aware of how perfectly matched they were. They certainly understood that Sam had special capabilities and phenomenal potential to do amazing things. That’s why he was the ‘star cadet’ at the Temple, according to last reports.

[It was believed by many on secret State levels, that all three Caladans were incredible people and much more important than anyone knew. The special family was not aware that they were closely watched by the Galactic Union, which had a strong interest in them, especially Sam. Time-Machines once showed the Federation the ancestors of the Caladans and the wars they fought and Time-Machines have shown the current Republic the power inside young Sam].

"I can’t remember much else about the Centurion, Caladrian, other than I think he redeemed himself from…from the fascism of the State called the Order."

Really?

Mary rubbed her eyes and said, Yes. I think he was a good guy. Now. Now it’s gone.

Hmm.

Tell me your dream. You said it was lucid, vivid.

Cal was overwhelmed. Ha. There was a lot there. It concerned my father, Trey…

Oh. Tell me. You’ve never spoken much about ‘m ‘cept he was in prison for a long time, innocent of Conspiracy charges.

Yeah. Well, that was a long time ago. My understanding is: he spoke the truth; corrupt State Police didn’t like it and he disappeared, so the story goes…

She did not notice.

What was the dream that involved him?

What’s cards?

Huh? Mary was mystified at the concept.

Have you ever heard of card games? A deck of cards or how to play?

"Never. Ha. But I’ll bet you can invent new games. You know, from your dreams, Cal?"

Funny.

She returned to ‘serious’ mode. Go on with your dream. Trey played these games, is it?

Yeah, sort of. They were kind of important. Cal paused, then said in a lower voice, Because our entire galaxy’s existence depended on it.

Wow. Nice dream. I guess he won? Mary turned toward her husband and rested her head on her right-hand.

Yeah, all of Pinwheel was somehow connected and very crucial to higher worlds called Continuums…

Huh.

And even lower, much smaller, infinitesimal continuums on mega-microscopic levels. Cal came down from ‘pastel clouds’ in his mind, turned and looked directly into his wife’s eyes. He changed the subject, but not really. Ever hear of planet Earth, Mare?

Earth? Nope. That’s a new one, she replied.

How about…Mineer?

Of course I’ve heard of Mineer: Third planet in the Ra System. I forget what sector. What about it?

"Strange that many Citizens are drawn to its, ah, ah, mystery: like, did it have a phantom moon or not? (Cal made a statement that was little understood by Union Monitors, crystal-recorders, United Watchers and Listeners). I…I think it was the Beginning, the Center of all things."

Mary let the eccentric, eclectic, philosophic statement roll over her like grease on a Canto Bear. This is fun. And better than exploring. What else have you pulled out of yer dream?

He smiled. He continued with a frown when he remembered, Ugh. You won’t believe this one, dear. Cal’s demeanor changed to dark negative.

Go.

Black Space.

Black space? she echoed in utter wonder. Waddo you mean, black space?

Okay. Imagine space or area around planets and suns…NOT white.

Mary responded with what Media had accurately broadcasted on the News in the world of Science, recently. They said it’s not as white as it used to be…

"Mare! Never mind that. Imagine empty space: a complete void, a big, big Nothing!" He was suddenly emotional.

She was quick. Like the absence of color, the absence of frequencies, no magnetic-electrism, no bright Power anywhere? Is THAT the nightmare yer talkin’ about? She shared his paranoia.

He held her tight. "Yes, my love. It was a nightmare. I saw fear. I saw doom. I saw our universe dim, dim and darken in the future."

But Cal, it was a dream. It was only a dream, dear. She felt his fear again. He was never this worried before. There were slight tremors in their bodies and clouds in their minds.

Was their secure ‘island’ of a home on Simar in jeopardy? There were no G-Wars or smaller fayds to be concerned with. Cal, Mary and Sam had no enemies. There were only the unknown ‘Eyes in the Skies’ of the Galactic Union as well as other monitor means by State Officials and aliens.

EARLIER…

Sam, in a grey robe, was alone within the enormous ‘hidden’ Hall of the Prime Temple. Opulence surrounded the boy soon to be a man, soon to be a Citizen. Radiant gemstones on walls, ancient artifacts, grails, even on covers of sacred Books had holy purposes. Temples of such riches were completely masked from outside visitors and also other cadets. Only High Masters entered the holy Halls or, on very rare occasions, a special guest.

Sam knelt at the ‘Altar of Contemplation,’ in the center, and understood that the moment was extremely rare. He was special. He was deeply honored as if his stellar education in the Sciences had been greatly accelerated by simply given the privilege to kneel here...

…Where Zog had been known to speak~

Some Masters claimed to have communed with Zog on this very spot, the center of ME vortexes and lines of natural forces, visible and invisible energies.

To the boy in a grey robe, it was virtually impossible to believe where he was in the now. He also could not believe ZOG MIGHT SPEAK~

Sam was given an opportunity that no other ‘cadet’ ever was given to prove his Mystic strength, will and power. Could he communicate with Zog? It took some time to realize that fact within him. Would nothing happen, as always occurred when potent Masters bowed before Zog when they were given their only chance? Every high-ranked Temple Official or ‘Metrone,’ Union Official as well as alien authorities in multiple galaxies wanted to know, desperately.

Astronomical numbers of eyes were upon nervous Sam. He knew.

Caladan, first in his class, understood that he was no longer a ‘cadet.’ He was a potential Grand Master at a very young age. He felt that the Watchers Watched and Listeners Listened…

"Speak."

AH! Who, ah…w-who is there? Sam looked around the massive Hall.

Nothing different was seen but minerals of fabulous wealth and beauty inlaid among gold-trimmed walls. Nothing had moved. Radiation lines continued out from the special altar for nearly 1/10 of a fell in every direction. The deep Voice was as if it emanated from within Sam.

"You know who is here with you, Sam. I have always been with you."

Zog. He was excited. His blue eyes enlarged and glowed.

"Ha. Ha."

You laugh? Ha. Zog laughs. The boy was enchanted.

"Yes, Sam. One must laugh when faced with the horrific truth."

His expression of awe changed to sad curiosity. What horrific truth?

The low, strong, internal Voice only laughed again.

Sam sincerely asked from his heart, Tell me what I should do. What should I do to serve you, great and powerful Zog?

"Did you know, you are not a Citizen?"

I thought I was, sir.

"No. It is one of many errors in the Great Teachings I will show you. But you can become a Citizen…through…sacrifice."

The Teachings, the Testament…are in error, Zog?

"You will discover: Everything is different at higher levels. Sam, would you like to become leader of the Last Order? With my help, you could rule. We’ve seen it. You will…"

The boy was bedazzled and confused inside elite mysticism (and not facts). What, the Republic?

"The Empire."

LATER…

After pleasantries, loving vibrations, long hugs and even kisses were exchanged between the Caladans, they had a hearty meal together. Eo was excited to see Sam again. The food was fantastic. They ate rare xils, cut thick with spicy fritters and fancy, colorful side-dishes. Robotic cooks did a splendid job.

Green Meads of different potencies were in the Caladans’ hands as they retired to the main living-area.

The mechanical help went to work.

It was yars since the whole family was under the same dome. The get-together had been anticipated for a long time. Sam’s parents had a few unexpected surprises for their son. He seemed different, somehow, and much older. He was no longer a boy. Cal and Mary treated Sam as the educated man of the Sciences he had become. After only one yarn, their son was a PRIEST. And not the phony versions of tele-priests viewers saw over Media, but a true one. They were very proud of Sam. He appeared as the ‘Prince of Maldavia,’ from the old stories.

The parents smiled and didn’t know how to start the conversation. Small talk was over, now there would be more meaty dialogue.

How much do you sleep? Sam asked an unusual question.

Cal answered, Oh, I don’t know. I suppose the full yam, like most other Citizens.

Why do you ask, Sam? mother asked.

Was there ever a time when you slept less, like when you were young?

Cal realized, "I think we did sleep and eat less. But we were younger, son. More things to do. We were much more active and less tied down…"

Mary responded to her husband with a big smile. You’re tied down? Are you?

Mr. Caladan had to rephrase. "I mean…we were more free, ah."

Sam cracked a small joke. Small jokes were often tossed about in the family triangle. That didn’t help, father.

Ha!

Great having you home, son.

Yeah, you said… Sam had a test in mind. He knew he could hide his real intentions from them. The next question was not ‘out of the blue’ as his parents assumed. We’ve never really talked about…

Cal sensed what was coming and tensed up while Mary remained clueless.

…Your father, grandfather Trey.

Cal switched to ‘automatic’ and, very deep inside, wondered if his son had learned the truth about Trey? He was sure his son picked up on how uncomfortable the subject was. Cal used a lot of mental strength and acted normal. What, what would you like to know about him, son?

Why did it seem that Sam understood more than Cal?

Sam knew that the next question should spark a reaction on the order of White Atomics. Was his name ever…Caladrian? Son looked father directly in the eyes, sternly, with power and confidence. Is that our original name, father?

The question struck Cal and Mary like blows from mighty pendrilles.

She recalled her dream about the Centurion Trooper. She gasped at her husband, Cal. How can it be?

Caladan, senior, finally responded with, Where did you hear that, Sam?

Sam was undaunted and repeated, Is that our original name, father?

Of course not. It’s always been Caladan. After another awkward pause, Wait a ya…

Now the lie. Make something up good, father…

Cal acted as if he remembered: There was a court case…

Mary believed every word and listened.

Sam did not. Really?

"It was a long time ago. 2077, maybe? Someone named Caladrian…sued your grandfather. I forget over what invention, maybe all of them? He claimed they were his and because of similarity in names, something like that, son. I think he was trying to steal them. He looked deeper into Sam in search of a sincere reply. What did you hear? I’d like to know."

Sam responded to the lie with one of his own. A rumor, some news item that Trey had a conflict with a guy named Trask. I guess it was about the court case you mentioned. Sam stared into Mary’s face.

She was nearly compelled to ask the next question. She finished her green drink and asked her husband, "Cal? Earlier. I said Caladrian and you said nothing…"

Sam again commented with, Really? in a slightly higher pitch. How about that?

Cal answered. Forgot the name. Sam jogged it out of me, now.

Hmm. Here’s a question about the famous prisoner, your father…

He wasn’t famous, Sam, Cal replied, calmly.

Did his imprisonment have anything to do with the court case, this Trask guy?

Of course not. Trey was a political prisoner of the United Federation, way back then, before the Republic.

Mary wanted to clear the air and discover why this was important to her son or what was really on his mind. Why are you asking about your grandfather, Sam?

He gently touched her hand. Mother, recently…I don’t know. I feel closer and closer to grandfather. Ah…like he…

Cal kept calm. Inside he was not and his son knew it.

Sam turned back toward Cal. Can you tell me more of Trey?

More?

"Yes. What was he like? What do you remember? What exactly was he guilty of? What did the Bozzing feds do to him? I want to know his case! Everything you know about it, father. Wasn’t he a rebel? Wasn’t he of great interest to you? Wasn’t Trey a hero to you?"

Mary wanted to hear more since she was also vague on Cal’s unique father and his bizarre history.

More lies, dear father?

I don’t know much. He died long ago. He was charged with being a Separatist from the Federation or being its leader? Not sure.

"Leader of the early Separatists? Really?" Sam looked at his mother.

Mary shook her head. I never knew that.

Cal continued. "I think he was in federal prison for 10 yarns and then nothing was ever heard from him again. Possibly, if I knew the facts, your grandfather would be more of a hero to me. Strange that he’s been on your mind, son." Cal gestured and relaxed. He thought everything was fine.

Sam seemed dazed. Facts, hmm. Yes, we’d know where we stood if we got the facts right. He looked up as if he spoke to a higher entity far away.

Sam? You all right? Mary inquired.

Of course. Their pride and joy smiled big and tensions under the dome were gone.

Sam sure had grown. Not only was his maturity and level of knowledge boosted by extraordinary methods, so was his 7 senses. He heard a robotic craft land outside of the Vean dome and he should not have heard the sounds. Sam turned and reacted. What was that?

Cal was shocked. You heard that? His father knew that the drone shuttle from Pan docked outside at this precise split-ya. He did not understand how his son was immediately aware of the arrival.

Do you have something planned, people? Maybe an after-dinner excursion? Sam smiled and got to his feet as if to lead the way.

Cal joked, Don’t you know?

They all stood up and laughed.

Soon they packed what they needed for the short trip. Each dressed in special shuttle-suits that resembled tight, grey pressure-suits.

In no time, they had the proper tech and marched toward the Pan shuttle. They were surprised at the monstrously large, crystaline bubble on the top portion of the ship. The curved windows were wonderful viewing-walls that made portals a thing of the past, thanks to force-fields. The central antenna appeared quite powerful.

Sam estimated (correctly) that the ship could reach Tauk 9, but was programmed at a cruise-speed of T7 for the transportation of Citizens.

The white sky held distant lavender rain clouds over Simar.

Sam and Mary went inside the sleek craft. There was plenty of room in the 5-seater.

Cal inhaled a big breath of clean air before he ‘clicked’ his suit closed. He stared up and beyond, into White Space, where they’d beam astronomical mega-bars in a relatively small period of time. He said goodbye to his home and the Pree mesa and Yarbello trees of Avalon.

When everyone was settled into the appropriate reclino-seat and the destination was ready for ‘audio command,’ Sam asked, Hey, where are we going? Or is that the surprise?

The parents were getting more excited by the ya.

Mary looked at Cal and laughed. Should we tell him?

Father nodded and also grinned.

Well, mister. We thought it would be a nice treat to vacation on…Eldorato, Mary expressed with warmth and love in her heart. "It is so beautiful there, as you’ve heard, with the plant life and three suns. Reservations were very hard to get. What d’you say, Sam? How does that sound?"

Eldorato? I sure don’t want to go there. Isn’t it my homecoming party?

Cal replied, "Yes. Sure, son. We don’t…have to go to El…"

We can go anywhere you want, dear, Mary interrupted.

The parents were a bit mystified.

Sam confessed, "I had something different in mind." He smiled a strange, wide grin.

Onboard the curved 5-seater, the family enjoyed the fantastic journey through White Space (except one).

The new Pan design for shuttles with the innovative dome made viewing simply an incredible experience, if you weren’t bored with infinite White everywhere? The view was extraordinary near sun systems, planets and satellites as well as over alien terrains. As far as a trip through highly-charged and energized space, the view was extremely dull.

The craft’s power-antenna smoothly received the pure energy in space and converted it into modes of omni-propulsion.

Where’re we going, Sam? Mary asked, sweetly.

Cal was also very curious. This have something to do with what you’ve learned at the Priesthood?

Oh, yes. Remember I asked you about sleep?

Mm hem.

"I learned our ancestors never slept. They didn’t need to. And it’s connected to the energy in space."

Mary wondered, We only sleep a yam. Connected?

Yeah, LOOK. Take a good look outside.

What do you mean, Sam? Just tell us, teach us. Cal sensed a twinge of fear, inside.

Mary did not see the near future because she would not have believed the vision.

Sam relaxed his attitude and happily became a ‘teacher-Priest.’ "It is darker, I’ve learned. Seriously, look again at the white. Don’t you two remember it being a bit brighter when I was very young, and brighter still when you were young?"

I guess it is a shade darker, now that you mention it, Sam.

Cal was concerned. He asked, All right. Hard to notice the clicks of time. Let’s say you are 100% correct. What do scientists think it means, Sam?

His mask was again a big smile. Don’t you see? The Priest could not have been more serious and somber on the inside of his bright demeanor. "It means…everything…everything, dear parents…is darkening."

I don’t understand, how can this be? Mary asked the men. Tell us what it means, Sam.

Sam’s stern face was as a stranger’s face to them: wild, like an animal. It means, mother…times are really going to change…

What had his piercing, blue eyes seen?

Cal asked a question without fear in his voice. "The scientists think the decay, er, LOSS of power will continue without a repeating re-charge? But, son…that’s thousands of yarns from now."

Is it? Sam replied with true knowledge of Time and not a question.

Mother Mary added, You mean a complete Power Outage on a universal scale? That can’t happen: Every antenna, dish, pyramid, statue, obelisk and monolith rendered powerless?

Sam laughed. And that’s not all. Not only the Power Grids. You want to see?

What?

What?

Sam casually removed a wristband his parents had not noticed or thought was part of his suit. He tossed it to his father. Strap it on.

What is it? Cal asked as he did what he was ordered to do. He inspected the new mechanism as if it was from hundreds of yarns in the future.

You will be able to view hundreds of yarns into the future.

Really? Mary was fascinated and got to her feet. She huddled around Cal in the ‘driver’s seat.’

The future is fixed, father and mother. Hensi is coming to Nirvana. His eyes were even wilder. You can see it right there, looped over and over again.

Black Space and a total Power Outage in the once pure and perfect cosmos was the least of the horrors in the future. The wrist view-screen displayed organized slaughter of life on a universal scale, on an incomprehensible level to any moral and compassionate Citizen or lifeform. Hatred, killing and WAR were new inventions on such a clear and clean landscape!

The parents were frozen in disbelief.

These are FACTS, mother and father! They cannot be changed. This will happen to our world, sooner than you think. Use your eyes again.

Sam stood behind his father who sat in the main reclino-seat. The Priest’s strong arm moved toward the device and he punched a button on the band.

The screen changed and revealed more sick sights.

"You have never heard of Red and White Atomics or nuclear weapons? Why would you ever have heard of such Vidor-Dragmars? Now look."

They cried.

The screen showed vast annihilations over the surface of various planets in an instant…

The time-viewer was about to demonstrate more unbelievable mega-terrors.

"Did you know, planets do not decide to explode? They are made to explode."

Mary cried more. What are you showing us, son?

The truth, Sam said coolly. Didn’t you know?

The screen gave them a 4HD view of the atomization of a pretty blue and green planet of endless dreams called Lilith.

Why was Sam so callous? Why did he not react to a galaxy turned into Hensi? What kind of Priest was he?

The man of Science and great Teacher, taught a little more of History. Lilith did not have the two monitor-moons in this time-line, of course…

What?

The destruction you saw will form a lovely ring of asteroids and returning particles called ‘comets’ and ‘shooting stars’ in black night skies of Mineer…

Huh?

"…And you wouldn’t believe, truly incomprehensible, how wondrously beautiful the creatures once were on Lilith: sweet and innocent Spirits of Shasheer, the lifeforms that were blown to pieces."

Zog.

Sam Caladan appeared to have mellowed. He sincerely told them, I do apologize, dear family. It’s old news to me. I’m sure the truth is very frightening to you.

How do you know? How do you know for certain the images weren’t jango punse? You could have been deceived, son.

By the Temple? No. They told me the truth. But yer right; I could have been deceived. I had to see for myself and I did.

How?

I went through Time.

This was not part of any Higher Learning program the parents were familiar with.

Before Sam explained…

Cal looked ahead, through the shuttle’s dome and saw something in front of them in the whiteness. Mare, look. What’s that?

The Priest replied, Ah. We’re here.

Unbelievable, was all Cal could say.

Mary was about speechless.

They parked the shuttle, left it on ‘idle’ and disembarked in the pressure-suits.

Under whitish skies and clouds, stretched out in a broad and very dark topography was the IMPOSSIBLE.

Mary had big eyes. She wondered in utter awe, Where are we?

Cal’s first words on land were: We cannot be here. This is not allowed.

Sam joked a joke they did not understand. "Well, we’re not in Pittsburgh. Ha. Or on Eldorato, obviously. Tell mother where we are, father."

He slowly obeyed. We’re…ha, ah…

What, Cal? she urged.

We’re…at the…Beginning, he said astounded, as if in a dream. It began here.

Where? Wow. Look at that.

Sam asked, So you recognize the special, unknown and now dark and lifeless planet, do you, father?

They continued and walked as if magnetically attracted toward a certain direction. Something from the Ruins drew them closer.

Gargantuan ruins stood in the distance. The mountains weren’t mountains; they were titanic STATUES of the Zogs! Thousands were archived as if Katacombs stood fells high!

How can that be since the Ruins cannot be filmed or ever recorded by any kind of crystal?

Paintings. VR representations…in the minds of computer artists, Cal imagined.

You believe you recall because of remote-teuning on the part of…

Where are we?! she yelled.

The Ruins of the Zogs in ONE Sector, Cal Caladan responded quickly.

Huh. Then Mary’s reflex-response kicked-in. No one’s allowed to be there.

They trekked onward along natural rock that formed a road.

Cal was confused. For the first time since his son came home from the Priesthood, he got angry. You’re telling me this is not a dream, this is real! And a Pan shuttle just star-skates us into the most guarded, impossible, restricted area of the Pinwheel Galaxy? Really?

Sam laughed a sinister laugh. "Has nothing to do with Pan. It has to do with my…right (not privilege) since I’m a Child of Destiny…like my grandfather before me."

What?

Where are we going? Why? Mary Caladan firmly questioned.

Grandfather?

Cal was very upset. He thought ‘anger’ was a good ploy. Hold everything. Stop! Explain yourself, mister! What are we doing here?

Interesting. We’ve come to the exact spot on the Path. Turnaround, people. And look.

A TP materialized in front of the trio. [Not a Tele-Pyramid from a Dream Continuum]. A Time-Pyramid took users into the real past or real future. Pasts can be changed, futures cannot.

Only a few bars from his parents was a 7 and a half-bar high, 4-sided, more like a bright, squared, hyperspace pyramid of Alokin-vision.

There was silence as the curious parents felt no threat from it.

The TP hummed a sweet sound of a serene siren. There was a warm and subtle blue light from the Quad-Energy Pyramid in flux.

They moved closer and slowly circled the TP.

Just tell us what it is, Sam, his father demanded.

His mother chose a calmer approach. Please, Sam.

"How about you tell ma who Caladrian really was? I know every thought in your head, father. He wasn’t a Separatist, their leader. He was their DESTROYER! War Marshall Trey Caladrian, your father, set fire to how many thousands of Separatists who dared rebel and fight against the United Federation?! Avalon paid for. Nice cozy home for the children of a monster!"

Mary cried again and felt that her son spoke the truth. Everything he said was the truth.

Cal came closer to the particular T-Pyramid side that Sam tried to move him toward, but he moved away from the side too fast.

Sam changed his mind and halted his lunge. From behind them, he pointed and shouted, The Temple and the Priesthood are not what you think, father! It IS business; it IS money! You have not seen behind its black curtains.

Cal screamed, LIES!

No, father dear. It’s the truth. I’ll show you. Sam’s eyes and aura glowed red. You don’t know, father! Both of you sent me to the Priesthood. How Mystic are you to not realize what lurked behind the walls and inside the heart of the Temple? Was it pure ignorance, stupidity on your part, to not know?

The timing was right, exactly as the time-band displayed for the new Grand Master…

When Cal stepped in front of the pre-programmed TP-side, Sam PUSHED him into it and held onto his father to also be sucked into the hyperspace vortex ~

Cal was suddenly in another world, reality, VR program, under a Mystic spell, magic potion or a part of an insane hallucination. It was not dream or fantasy in any way/shape or form.

He was in what appeared as a jail cell but more like a very dark, stone, cold dungeon. One dim light projected his long shadow. Darkness was everywhere except the one dim light. There was also stark silence. Then…

Something stirred in the darkness, beyond his shadow.

Cal was not alone.

A grunt of a sound was made along with a few unheard words.

Cal was afraid. He yelled, Who’s there? Show yourself! Sam?

It was in the now, at this weird and horrible place, that Cal realized he was in a different body. He was younger. He had muscles, bruises and scars and was chained.

Sam emerged from the darkness. The small light lit enough of his face that his father recognized him. But the face was a child’s face, half the age of Sam. Sam, 8 yarns old, spoke to the brutalized prisoner. The boy wore one more mask. He appeared in red robes.

Cal understood this was a computer-program and the boy-image was Sam’s avatar. But everything was different. Cal was desperate to know what this was about…

~Down deep, he knew. This was because of his own sins, lies, deeds and deceptions.

Sam.

The mad little monster stated with 100% authority and power: My name is Caladrian! Slayer of all who oppose the Federation!

What kind of game is this, Sam? There’s no war. There’s no Federation anymore.

"And there won’t be a Republic after I get done with it. Do you know the Calkan story of Nemesis? She destroyed everything evil, wrong and corrupt. I am Nemesis!"

Why am I so weak?

"Because you’ve been beaten, unfed, of course. You’re a Federal prisoner, remember? I was saying: Temple is not what you think. Truth never is. Now I understand what Power is and the coming Darkness, what it really is."

What is it, Sam?

The deranged boy, drunk on twisted truths, replied, "Evil. You didn’t tell me, father! You didn’t tell me our family brought Hensi to Nirvana! Our bloodline changed protons to electrons and planted the First Seed of Evil in a Shasheeran Garden. We destroyed our own sweet Spirits on the 5th planet, shattered them to the far universe! WE did that and cannot hide the truth anymore, El. We have to take responsibility for our actions, don’t you think so, my father? Or…maybe they were…YOUR actions?"

Was he 100% wickedness now? Was there any reasoning with him?

The child of nightmares, but actually a child of the real world, calmly and coolly pulled out a cutting-tool and sparked a long, red flame. He casually tuned it to an intense setting that could cut through nesium. He looked directly into his father’s eyes. Trey’s back. A small, green Temple creature named Mang showed me the truth in a Black Crystal.

Huh. Can’t be, son. Cal saw the frightful mental-film. No, you’re not? Where’s Mary? Where’s your mother? What are you going to do to your mother?

Oh Zog, there’s mother. What to do? What to do? Hmm. He became the Sardon and the ‘snake’ creature smiled. "You’re not going to like what I do to…mother." His eyes were blazed. The child personified the devil.

Cal screamed and reached out toward his son. He collapsed on the cold, stone floor.

The boy in red robes left the ‘prison’ via a Side only he accessed.

The cutting-tool remained ON.

He trapped his father in a dark TP forever.

In the great Hidden Hall with many gemstones of unholy purposes, a new Grand Master took center stage and received his reward for the sacrifice and attainment of the next precious Level. He wore long black robes. On his knees, he bowed to the shadows.

The entity that spoke to the Grand Master was not Zog. It was Mang.

"Rise. You are no longer Sam-u-EL. You will be known as ‘Citizen Cal’ of the Last Order."

The Grand Master ‘child’ bowed again slowly and reverently and then rose to his feet.

"You defeated the Rangers. You led battalions on the red Fields of Fanguard against Separatist armies and WON! You cremated our enemies, charged our legions in their blood and paved the way for the glorious, victorious Republic! As Riveror, an entire universe, has turned empty and black, our world will be the second to reach The Darkness. Praise Mang. Praise Mang! We will go totally dark and take 100% control. Praise, Mang!"

Praise, Mang.

Praise, Mang.

Story 2: Men of Steel

[Author’s note: For someone with a Superman obsession and free movie channels, how’d I miss ‘Man of Steel’? I had to see it after I read a condemnation of the remake with Russell Crowe as Jor-El. After I saw it, I was compelled to write MY version of how a Superman story should be].

Superman remained rocked to his core with the incredible and terrible news he’d learned at his crystal Fortress of Solitude, long after he replaced the gigantic, yellow, arctic ‘pointer.’ His plan, before the little journey to the North Pole, was to return to Metropolis and continue his life as Clark Kent. Now he didn’t know what to do. He knew he could not go back home. Not now.

Zod was coming!

Superman flew to the Moon, a bit dazed and confused, lost in thoughts of what to do: What was precisely the correct thing to do to save the Earth from destruction, from Zod? Or, should he decide the other way? What would Kal-El do? What would the Big Decision be?

The Man of Steel might never assume the role of Clark again. He might never see the Earth ever again. He might not see Lois again or his mother or his cousin. Those were a few of his fears as he raced to the Moon.

He had to face Zod. He had to not only draw him to the Moon, he had to bring him to the ‘special place.’ And somehow…

The Moon was the perfect battlefield, far from the beautiful planet. Superman wanted his precious people safe from harm, safe from what lay ahead. Zod’s spaceship streaked on a trajectory towards Earth where it would encounter Luna before the planet.

Kal-El’s strategy was to surprise his foe 240,000 miles before the General and his forces reached Earth. Was there any chance for peace? For one Kryptonian to not battle another?

This was my father’s fight. Now it’s mine.

Superman flew to the perfect place, aligned with Zod’s distant spacecraft…

It was a crater he had visited often, his lunar Crater of Solitude. Arzachel’s grey beauty was stark and rich and delightfully elegant. A very high, center peak was an amazing, dramatic feature. The other feature was a prominent crater on the floor of Arzachel. No major crater on the Moon had this combination of a high center-mountain with a big crater on the floor.

The Man of Steel flew to the very top of the peak and glided into a smooth standstill. His cape moved only slightly in the extremely faint atmosphere and subtle winds that few were aware of on the planet. His stance along with the bright red and bright blue uniform and red cape, fell to a neat spot in the center of the peak.

This was the exact location Kal-El loved. He could sit anywhere in the air. Superman enjoyed the contact with the lunar surface and the view of Arz was breathtaking. The blackness of space and the fantastic lights and fires of suns were a glorious canopy over the whole scene.

He looked over at the one oddity in the beauty and grace of this incredible tower: It was a black spike that tapered to a slender, sharp point, straight up on the far south side of the high peak. Only a semi-flat portion stood at the tip of the tower, approximately 30 feet by 13 feet. Why did Kal’s favorite spot outside of his Fortress have an uncharacteristic ‘thorn’ in its side? [Thorn of the Rose?] Why was there always a danger, a threat, a crisis, a problem to fix?

Now this.

How can I…choose? The super-Man cleared his thoughts, quieted his mind, sat in the ‘lotus’ position. He closed his eyes and was calm. He reached Nirvana and was able to focus. Kal ran back in his mind once again what had happened at the crystal fortress~

It started out as one more ‘talk’ with his father as the boy and now man had enjoyed many times previously. Kal learned phenomenal amounts of history and truths in the years ‘talking to father.’ Of course the projection was not Jor-El, the man. The two-dimensional screen in the shape of the Family Crest outline displayed Jor-El’s consciousness combined with the best computer technology. The image was not a virtual simulation of Jor-El. Superman’s father transcended. The ‘projection’ on the digital screen was Jor-El. He was alive, but could not be touched in the physical sense.

The brilliant day when a green crystal led him to the North Pole was the greatest day in Superboy’s life! He met his real father who introduced himself and also told young Clark who he really was, his greatness, his potential. A myriad of questions were answered and tremendous love exchanged, even between Mother Lara, who remained spiritually ‘missing’ in the present.

It cannot be true. What the purpose of my life really is, father.

You’ve known of your special powers from the beginning, Kal. It’s far more, son.

But this? Superman paced back and forth in front of the Kryptonian screen that hovered in midair. Are you certain of the facts? Have you truly confirmed the words you’ve told me?

Yes. It was my concept from the start. I wasn’t only saving you from the destruction of our world, it was also millions of our brothers and sisters as well. You are the means to do that.

Because of what’s in me? I carry them; they’re…they’ve been inside me all my life?

"In your cells. To be restored, much later. But who knew way back then that our actions, ah, MY actions…would threaten your new world, your friends and all you love? My…wild Hope may destroy your Earth, as it turns out." Jor-El suppressed his feelings and great sadness.

Why does he hate you, father? You’ve never told me the full story.

"Then I’ll tell you now. Ha. Uh. Militaries and scientists, how often they are in total conflict. He blames me for the sins or…possible sins of my father. And he’s right."

What? He is? Then Kal shifted to the other subject. I know nothing of your father, the Man of Steel wondered and walked in more circles.

His name was Lor-Van, not an El. Head of the Science Union, long ago. In time, we sent out thousands of explorers in mighty ships to every sector of the galaxy. We tapped Krypton, its core, for the required energy to do that. It was foolish; it was wrong to use and deplete the planet to that extent. No one saw what would happen over centuries, the drain of electrical power, the instability and eventual great implosion. The image of Jor-El reacted and he controlled his own inner emotions. Zod blames my father and of course…me. And now you, son. Krypton’s implosion freed him and two other outlaws imprisoned within the Phantom Zone.

Kal stopped his steps and stared into the screen that was shaped like a large shield. So…this attempt of yours, the hope for a future for our brothers and sisters, was a way to redeem our family? To remove the curse from El House, dear father?

Jor-El’s eyes contained tears. Feelings surfaced. His son touched upon deeply buried emotions. Husband of Lara never examined those feelings, but simply…

…Felt compelled to do what he had to do.

I campaigned for decades. I knew it was too late. We had to leave our beautiful red sun and planet with the last bits of energy and resources we had…

Kal continued Jor-El’s train of thought. "Zod stepped in; he’d oppose any survival plan you presented…"

He proposed MADNESS, instead. He saw the mass exodus as an act of desperation and fear and cowardice. Zod demanded we stand our ground, not flee. He wanted us to accept the impending doom as warrior-gods, embrace the inevitable fate. In that, Kal…he was not right.

And they listened and believed him at first. Later imprisoned him. Too late. Today, everything’s different. It’s all on my shoulders, father. I’m a Kansas boy. The relationships I’ve made. I love them, my friends. I can’t let them die. Tears were in the Man of Steel’s eyes.

I am truly sorry, my son. I am truly sorry for the burden that weighs on your shoulders. General Zod will be here soon. He will destroy Earth because of your love of Earth. You must decide, one way or the other. I am very sorry. Do you know what you will do, Kal?

No. I must go.

In the present, Superman blasted upward with a force that moved much of the grey tower’s peak! Suddenly, just now, he had an idea in flight. It might work. He had to gather a mass of lead from the Earth’s satellite as well as…

On Zod’s black spaceship that he christened: The Shrike…

Ursa, the female, in full black/battalion gear, had a question for the General.

Zod in larger battalion gear and with his Family Crest on his chest, placed the final touches on the infamous ‘World Motor,’ a device that will be the instrument of the General’s revenge.

With all due respect, Commander…will it work? She regretted the question as soon as it was asked.

Zod was pleased. He smiled through his ominous face-gear and welcomed the question. He believed that he could destroy son of Jor-El with the completed and activated World Motor that stood before them. The General was very excited that he, Ursa and the idiot approached the prime objective. It was only a short matter of time when Two Supermen and a Superwoman should be able to pull the limbs of Kal-El apart and scatter them to the far corners of the galaxy!

Zod was further elated that after the Motor was shoved into the planet for its power and activation, the result would transform the Earth into a burned-out cinder.

Sir. It has not been field tested. We are not scientists, sir.

That’s what computers are for, my dear. It will work. He was extremely confident.

Ursa bowed. She also asked, What strategy, sir, do you suggest when we face him?

The silent ‘idiot’ looked on and barely understood the plan.

Zod stopped the amused expression on his brutal face. He stared right into his second in command’s eyes. He seriously and coldly told them to: Rip him apart!

Ursa and Zod laughed evil laughs.

The idiot was the last to laugh.

At super speed the Man of Steel gathered the lead he needed from the rich deposits under the lunar surface. He made the suit. He gathered the ‘surprise’ for the General and his forces and buried it in his ‘special place.’ [Did Kal always have the plan in mind?] He removed and hid the suit at the base of the Arz central tower. Everything was set.

He looked out and observed a moving object that quickly approached. It was Zod’s Shrike.

Superman flew to it. He flew right along with the ship as it blazed across space and turned towards the planet.

Kal got the attention of the criminals. They did exactly as expected: They followed him.

The craft trailed behind Superman as he flew back to the Crater Arzachel…

The son of Jor-El who carried the Spirit of Jor-El as well as the essential Spirits of millions of Kryptonians inside him…

…Flew straight down and into the deep, prominent crater on the flat floor of the big crater. He called the special feature: Eden. It symbolized his family’s sweet hope for a paradise.

Eden battleground was a round, grey ‘amphitheater’ with only four participants to the war.

Three dark, powerful forces de-shipped the Shrike. They were told by Zod to not attack, immediately. The General was too confident, too sure of himself and his evil treachery and technology. He believed he held the life of his greatest foe’s son in the palm of his hand. At first, they’d talk…

Kal shouted, General! I didn’t understand a ship? WHY would Men of Steel need a spaceship? Then I saw you carry a strong, magnetic signature with you.

"NO greetings, pleasantries for your father’s greatest admirer, son of El? It’s marvelous to see you. You look glorious. Fantastic. Check your feelings, Kal-El. We genuinely care about