The First Keeper

By Sidney Martin

Living the worse days of his life, the Universe picked Kimball Rush to change everything. Not understanding and believing he is going crazy, he runs away.

Starting a new life and meeting the girl of his dreams, he learns what change really means. Is he up to the challenge? But once he starts down that road, however naive and ignorant he may be, it’s impossible to turn back.

Everything he loves will be risked and he will give everything he has to save the one he loves. But will it be enough? Even Kimball is not sure. Follow Kimball Rush on his journey from screw-up to The First Keeper.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sidney Martin
• Release date: Apr 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370688746

Book preview

1

Lying in his bed, he could see the writing on the ceiling. Blazing red. Flashing neon. Of course, it wasn’t really there, but he could still see it. Blinking and rubbing his eyes didn’t help. In fact, it only made it worse. For a time, he refused to look up, but he still knew it was there.

When he finally looked up again, it was larger, taking up the whole ceiling.

LOSER.

He cringed involuntarily and closed his eyes pulling the covers over his head. Maybe he could hide. Stay in bed forever. As long as he had the sheet over his face, he was invisible.

LOSER.

He could hear the words in his head. He shook his head violently trying to make it stop but it only made him dizzy. Throwing off the covers, Kimball Rush finally pulled himself out of bed and slowly opens his eyes. The sun was up and his room was covered in zebra stripes from the blinds. He shielded his eyes and the voice faded to a whisper, but his head still throbbed.

He knew if he didn’t get up there would be consequences. He wanted to go back to bed but he knew it was impossible. The way he saw it, he had only two options, hide or run. Hiding took must less energy but there was no where in the house to hide.

He laughed out loud at the thought. Nineteen and still acting like a child. That was him. A 19-year-old baby. Unable to make it on his own. Still messing up and getting in trouble. Unable to take care of himself.

LOSER.

There was no other way to explain his expulsion from school. He realized he was a 19-year-old wash out. He’d never really been in trouble before, and he picked a doozy for the first time. Public humiliation. Returned home in disgrace. Hiding in his parent’s house. Living in the same room he grew up in. Sleeping in the same bed he did when he was 7. He felt sick to his stomach. Maybe a vomit stain would improve the old brown shag carpet.

But he pushed it all back down. He pushed the memories back into the closet and locked the door. He knew it wouldn’t change the effects of the last few weeks on him, but at least he wouldn’t re-live it again and again.

He slept in his clothes so there was no need to dress. And he didn’t bother with socks—it was just too much trouble. He slipped on his old Nike tennis shoes and headed for the door. But he just stood there. He just couldn’t open the door. He knew what was waiting for him and he couldn’t bear it. His Mom would ask him what he had planned for the day. And then, in her unique way, she’d dive into her dissertation about what he needed to do to ‘fix’ his life. Of course, it wouldn’t be that direct. She always couched her lectures in words like maybe and have you considered and sometimes. But a lecture was a lecture.

His Dad was much worse. Long speeches and causal chitchat weren’t his style. He got right to the point. And he knew what he would say: How’s the job search? And he would lie again. He didn’t want a job. He didn’t want to do anything. He wanted to wallow. He wanted to crawl in a hole and hide from the world. But his Dad only thought in forward motion.

Everyone thought they knew him so well. They were all so sure what went wrong and what he needed to do to fix it. But he knew it was all crap because he didn’t have a clue himself what happened and what to do. And he sure as hell didn’t know how to ‘fix it.’ How could everyone else know him so well when he didn’t know himself? They were his parents but they just couldn’t see it. They couldn’t see he needed some time. Weren’t they supposed to help him, support him, understand him? But they didn’t. He wanted to tell them off. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs. But he couldn’t. He was a wimp. Too scared to stand up for himself. Too worried about what might happen if he expressed an opinion or said what he actually thought. To chicken to do what he needed to do. What else was new?

LOSER.

But he couldn’t stand at the door all day. He listened intently for any sign of movement. Hearing none, he carefully ventured out. The hall was abandoned. He moved as fast as he could without making a noise. Peering around the corner into the kitchen, it was empty. God was smiling on him today. He headed straight for the back door.

Where are you going, Kim? He froze at the words.

Where are you going? the voice repeated.

Kimball slowly turned to face his brother. Jimmy eyed him eagerly. He was 6 but he still had a baby face and puppy dog eyes. His Mom kept his hair short because it curled as it grew and made him look like a girl.

I’m just going out for a while.

Can I go too?

Kimball could feel the time ticking by. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to escape before one of the wardens found him.

Not this time. I’m just going out for a while, okay?

But you never take me!

I’ll take you next time. I promise.

And with that hollow promise, he turned and shot out the door.

He virtually ran to the back gate just in case Jimmy was following, but he was too afraid to look back.

Once passed the gate, he breathed again. The air was much better outside the prison and he took a few long, deep breathes. His head still throbbed but it was a lesser pain outside.

Aimlessly he followed the worn trail behind the subdivision to the woods. When he was young he thought of it as a forest, but it was really just a small wooded area surrounded by subdivisions. He figured whoever planned the subdivisions messed up and missed this area. Now it was boxed in and isolated.

The forest was old and the trees were huge. Long limbs created a canopy over the small woods blocking most direct sunlight from getting through. Inside the woods, the air was cool and musty. The drought left the woods more brown than green this year but it didn’t seem to affect the large trees. When he was young he tried to climb a tree to the top to see above the leaves, but he had never made it. He chickened out even then.

As he walked the familiar path, his mind turned over and over. He couldn’t keep the thoughts out and the flood of emotion that came with them. So, he walked faster. And faster. Until he was running through the woods at full speed. He ran from the voice in his head. He ran from his parents. He ran from the public humiliation. He ran from responsibility and expectation. He ran from his pathetic life.

Out of breath, he finally stopped in a small clearing, doubled over and gasping for breath. In the center of the opening, a large root shot up from the ground and then went right back down, forming an upside down ‘u.’ It was like a small bench and Kimball sat down to catch his breath.

It was very quiet in the opening; too quiet. He couldn’t hear the sounds of the woods, the birds, the bugs, the rustling of the wind. It felt unnatural and it gave him a chill.

A small creek bed cut through the opening, but it was dry and dusty from the drought. Patches of light hit the ground when a soft breeze passed through the opening. In the creek bed, a sparkle caught his eye.

Kimball moved toward the creek bed and it flashed again. It was as if whatever it was wanted to be found.

He picked up the odd rock. Rectangular in shape and smooth, it seemed to give off a glow. The rock was perfectly proportioned and it felt heavy. He was about to throw it back into the creek bed, but he thought better of it and slipped it into his pocket.

Back on the root bench, he stretched his legs and let out his breath. There was an odd feel about this place, like he was outside the world. Maybe it was the quiet. Maybe it was the flashing lights as the breeze moved the leaves. But it calmed him. He could feel all the venom and frustration drain from his body. His muscles relaxed and his head stopped throbbing.

He felt himself drifting away . . .

When he opened his eyes, he was somewhere else entirely. A river raged before him. The noise of the river was all he could hear. Turning around, he was startled to see a strange creature standing in front of him. A tall, ugly creature. His skin was a shiny bluish purple and his eyes were large and orange with small black pupils. A small fin ran from the top of his head down his back. And he was wearing some kind of white karate uniform.

He tried to get his bearings. Was he dreaming? This couldn’t be real. It was too bizarre to be real. But if he knew he was dreaming, could it be a dream? It felt real. It looked real. It sounded real. But it had to be a dream.

Then the wind blew and he felt a chill down his back. Looking down, he found he was naked. He immediately covered himself and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He looked around to make sure no one else was there. He was alone. Except for the thing in front of him. It didn’t move. Not even a blink. Then he realized it must be a statute. A big ugly statute.

What’s going on, he thought? He took a step toward the trees beyond the ugly creature. Its eyes followed him and he froze. He stared back at the creature. He must have imaged it. But it still creeped him out. He wanted to get away from the thing, but his legs weren’t working. He was gripped with fear. He could feel the creature’s eyes boring into him.

Then the creature spoke.

I am Rowlick, Keeper of the House of the Four Fathers. He could feel vibrations as he spoke.

He wanted to run, but fear kept him from moving, but his mind raced. It was so real, but it had to be a dream. But what if it wasn’t a dream. What if it was real?

What are you talking about and why are you wearing that ridiculous costume? He had to shout over the furious river behind him, but he felt no confidence.

It is you who have brought me here. The creature was calm, acting as if nothing was wrong.

What are you talking about? I didn’t bring you here. I don’t even know how I got here. Who are you and where are my clothes? Nothing made sense.

He felt the wind again and shivered. The creature before him didn’t move at all. If this wasn’t a dream, then what was it? How did he get here? Where were his clothes? He decided that before he could go any further, he had to have some clothes.

Where are my clothes? Panic was starting to edge into his voice.

I have not taken your garments.

Yeah, well . . then, where the hell are they? His body was still paralyzed but now only partly because of his fear. His limbs were feeling numb from the chilly wind. In his mind, he continued to struggle to believe it was a dream. But he knew it wasn’t true. He felt panic begin to rise in his stomach and he took a step back toward the raging river. He wondered if it would come after him if he ran.

Please. I need my clothes.

If you wish to be clothed, make it so.

Who are you, Captain Picard for god’s sake? I’m freezing and I need my clothes.

This was really starting to get weird, but that feeling that this was not dream was only getting stronger.

Then they just stood there and stared at each other. Kimball thought, maybe if I close my eyes and try to tune it out, I’ll wake up. So he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the woods behind his house, and tune out the river behind him. After what seemed like an eternity had passed and nothing had happened, he started to relax a bit. He slowly started to open his eyes feeling sure he would be alone. But the strange creature was patiently standing in front of him.

Maybe if I pinch myself really hard, I’ll wake up. He pinched his forearm as hard as he could. But instead of waking up, he yelped out in pain. He was starting to believe this was not a dream and the thought terrified him. Really terrified him. He realized that he had never really felt fear his whole life. It started in the pit of his stomach and quickly spread to his limbs. He started to feel numb, totally paralyzed. He wanted to yell for help but he couldn’t get his mouth to work. His mind clouded and he couldn’t think.

He was frozen there, unable to move or yell. He was a prisoner. He stared at the creature, taking in shallow breaths, frozen. The creature just stared back.

Finally, something changed. His mind began to come back. He fought for control of his body too. He didn’t know where the strength came from, but slowly, his mind started to clear and he regained use of his limbs.

He looked up at the creature towering over him and said as strongly as he could, I need my clothes.

Then make it so.

Now that Kimball’s brain was working again, all he could think about was getting away. He heard the mighty flowing river behind him and thought about jumping in. But he didn’t swim very well and the current was very strong. He thought for sure the beast would chase him if he decided to run, not to mention that the creature was blocking his escape on the ground. He needed time to think, time to decide what to do.

In his best voice, he said Where are we? He was almost shouting, but it was the only way he could get the words out over the roaring river.

We are in the realm of the Four Fathers, close to the City of Terxa.

OK. . . . Can you be a little more specific? Are we still in Ohio?

I am unaware of the Ohio you speak of.

You know the cops are going to be looking for me. Why did you bring me here?

It is you who brought me here.

His mind was clear but he couldn’t get a straight answer. Anger was beginning to replace the fear.

You’re a real psycho. Can I please have my clothes? There was edge to his voice. He was demanding his clothes, demanding answers.

Then make it so, he said again evenly.

That’s enough, he yelled in his head. I have to do something. With the anger, his mind was crystal clear. He was going to get away. No matter what it took. Slowly he backed away toward the river. He kept his eyes on the creature, but it didn’t move.

He took a deep breath and jumped head first into the roaring river.

As it turned out, it was a really bad idea. The cold water shocked his body (after all he didn’t have any clothes on) and now he couldn’t move or breathe. He was being rushed along the current like an old shoe. He tried to move his legs, to get to the surface for air, but nothing happened.

He looked up through the clear rushing water and he could just make out the blue sky and clouds. Everything was distorted by the water, but he thought he could just make out a large bird flying over the river—or maybe it was an airplane, he couldn’t tell with the distortion of the water. So this is how I die? I would have never guessed.

But he also realized that, even though he wasn’t breathing, he wasn’t gasping for air. In fact, he didn’t feel the need to breath. It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t be possible. Then he realized: This has to be a dream after all. As he relaxed, he started to regain use of his limbs. But then another thought came to him: Or maybe I’m dead already.

2

Sitting in his command chair, Xa’Chir calmly reviewed the latest data as it came across his monitor. This was no ordinary military command. In fact, it wasn’t part of any military command—it was under the jurisdiction of the Confederation Science Directorate. By all accounts, it was a dead-end position for any military officer. But Xa’Chir didn’t care. As the top graduate of the Jin’to Military Academy, he could have had any assignment he wished. But he chose the Ultradetomium office. Everyone he knew at the Academy tried to talk him out of it, but he had insisted.

That was 15 years ago. In that time, he had modernized the search equipment; a new command center was constructed; and he streamlined the search process. No one cared about his accomplishments. But he wasn’t there for praise. He had a personal mission.

He knew this was where he was supposed to be. His father had paved the way, and he had taken up the mantle. Fifty years ago, his father, a minister on the Confederation Council, had been instrumental in the establishment of the Ultradetomium office, and placing that office within the Science Directorate but under military command.

He remembered vividly the day his father first told him. They were on top of Mount A’Xachiti exploring the ruins of the Terxa Temple on planet Xexvar. He was to be the next Keeper of Realm. He was just a boy of 15, and he didn’t truly understand, and perhaps he still didn’t completely grasp its significance. Everything he knew had been passed down from his Father. To most, the Realm was a myth faded to dust by time, and the House of the Four Fathers was just a children’s story. But Xa’Chir knew better.

Looking back at that first trip with his father, the burden placed upon him seemed unfair. He was still a child. He couldn’t possibly understand what it meant. But now he could see his father’s wisdom. Without the knowledge of his calling, he would not have been prepared for what was to come. And at an older age, he probably would not have accepted what his father taught him.

His father’s life had been cut short. Now, the burden was his alone, and he could feel it press down on him. Fifteen years of searching and he was no closer to finding the God Stone than his father had been. Time weighed on him like a wet blanket. The pressure was so great it was sometimes a physical pain. Late at night, doubts filled his mind. Each failed search brought more urgency. He redoubled his efforts. He knew he was the one to find the God Stone. He was the prophesied one. He could not give up.

The words swam before him. Lost in his thoughts, his name brought him back.

Sir, I’m getting an Ultradetomium reading—it’s very faint, but definitely a reading. It’s coming from sector 973260.2. Lieutenant Xevior’s voice was monotone. As com officer, he was responsible for monitoring the search program. The monotone came from boredom.

He was still a young man, slouched in his seat with ice black hair, probably too long for a military officer. He was Aes’Ric, the neighboring planet to Aes’Dir, where Xa’Chir was from. But unlike Xa’Chir, he was clearly unsuited for a military career. He barely made it out of the Academy; unmotivated and always pessimistic. But he was a whiz at technology. He didn’t know it, but it was Xa’Chir himself that had request he be assigned under his command. And the Academy gladly obliged because no one else wanted him.

We have never received a reading from this far out before, please confirm said Commander Xa’Chir in his usual businesslike manner.

Yes, sir . . . confirming. I have confirmed the reading, Sir.

Pull available information about the sector.

Yes, Sir . . .. There is very little, sir. It’s located on the far side of the galaxy. There are no advanced civilizations in that sector. But the information is rather old, Sir. Appears no one goes there because there is nothing of interest.

Interesting. Then why are we suddenly getting an UltraD reading from there? Sitting back in his chair looking pensive, Xa’Chir’s hand came to his chin as it often did when he was deep in thought. This was the farthest out reading he had ever gotten. But why only now would it show up. It made no sense.

I don’t know, sir.

Well Lieutenant, check the log and see if there has ever been any reading from that sector before. Xa’Chir disliked telling Xevior the obvious, but he often had too.

No record of any reading from that sector before, sir.

May I suggest then that you confirm it again and make sure this is not a mistake or a signal echo or a malfunction? Again, telling him the obvious.

Yes, sir. Re-setting scanners, opening a new micro-worm hole and re-setting scan.

Five seconds later, a light on the panel in front of Lieutenant Xevior was flashing again.

Second confirmation, sir. Same reading as before. Diagnostics show equipment working properly.

Okay, Lieutenant. Access the long range pin-point D-satellite Delta 5 and direct it’s scanner to confirm.

Accessing, sir. . .. Access is denied, Delta 5 is in use, sir.

Override it. We need independent confirmation.

Attempting to override. . .. Override denied, sir.

Get up, Lieutenant.

Sir?

I said get up, he said in an even firmer tone. Xevior jumped from his seat.

Xa’Chir sat down and started working on the panel. A minute later he stood up.

There Lieutenant. You now have access to Delta 5. Commence scan immediately. Commander Xa’Chir turned to his other side where another young Lieutenant sat.

Mr. Al’Tuvo, get me all the information you can find on sector 973260.2.

As Lieutenant Xevior worked on the scan, another young officer spoke up.

Sir, you have an incoming message from Director Santoi, said Ensign Marvia, the third military officer working in the UTD office.

I’m busy, Ensign.

What shall I tell the Director?

Tell him that I am busy and I will call him back.

Yes, sir.

Just as the Commander turned back to face front, Lieutenant Xevior spoke.

Sir, first scan results coming in. Reading is confirmed in Sector 973260.2. Sir, Delta has pinpointed the signal to Sector 973260.2W5P3. Estimates only trace amounts of UltraD.

Can you be any more precise as to the amount, Lieutenant?

No, sir. The readings are strange. As soon as we have confirmation, we seem to lose the signal lock. Delta has reacquired but can only keep the signal for a short time. Because of the short window, sir, we can’t get a more precise reading.

The Commander’s mind began to turn—could this be the one he’d been looking for. Somehow it felt right. His heart leaped. But then it always did when he had a new lead. But this one seemed more promising. He had always suspected that the God Stone would be on a far off, forgotten planet. Otherwise, it would have been discovered by now. But why only now did they find the signal. This sector had been scanned before. It didn’t make sense. Or maybe it did—maybe someone has found the Stone and it has become active. If that were true, he had to recover the Stone as soon as possible. He continued to stare straight ahead and contemplated his next move.

The moment was shattered by another interruption. Mr. Al’Tuvo spoke up.

Sir, there is very limited information on Sector 973260.2. It is a single star system, 8 planets, the third is inhabited, but unadvanced. The most current report is several hundred years old. Al’Tuvo paused. And sir, according to our information, that sector does not have any natural UltraD.

Mr. Al’Tuvo was a short and stubby woman with black hair and black eyes. She was an Saleadian, one of the few who served in the Confederation military. She had been in the same position in the Ultradetonium Office for years, long before Xa’Chir came. In fact, she had been next in line to run the Office, and probably would have if Xa’Chir hadn’t angled himself into the position. But she never showed any resentment and always did her job.

Sir, Director Santoi insists on speaking with you now, Ensign Marvia interrupted. He was the communications officer. He had never quite figured out why the Ultradetonium Office needed a communications officer. Probably because all military commands had one.

The Commander didn’t respond.

Sir?

Okay. Okay. Put him on.

Director Santoi. What can I do for you?

Perhaps, Commander, you can explain to me how and why my science team was booted from the Delta 5.

Certainly, sir. It was imperative that my team have immediate access to Delta 5, so I used the milcom override to gain access.

"What is so important that you needed immediate access?" The Directors voice was rising.

I’m sorry, sir. But that is classified.

Classified? I’m the Science Director; there is nothing you could be doing that I can’t know about.

On the contrary, sir. I’m not at liberty to discuss this matter with anyone outside of military command.

Commander, do you believe I was born yesterday. I know very well you are working on the Ultradetonium project. There is nothing classified about what you are doing.

Commander Xa’Chir didn’t respond.

Very well, Commander. You have not heard the last of this. I will be talking to your superior. And I want Delta 5 returned to my team immediately.

Yes, sir, responded the Commander, and the link ended.

All the others in the room were staring at the Commander. Their eyes told him that they too didn’t understand what was classified about Ultradetonium scanning. The project had been working for years in hopes of finding new sources. Ultradetonium was very rare and had great potential. The search had become a strategic goal of the Confederation, and had been run by the military for years. But the military had never really put much emphasis on the project. It didn’t see any military benefit in Ultradetonium, probably because no one had been able to weaponized it effectively. Even as a portable power source, it was not very reliable.

When Commander Xa’Chir volunteered for the project, Military Director Tobis was shocked and had tried to convince him to change his mind, telling him it was a dead end. But the Commander held firm. He had his reasons for wanting to work on this project. Reasons he couldn’t tell the Director.

After he took the job, he streamlined the search, creating a new systematic search program. He was always refining and improving the process. After fighting with his superiors for years, he was finally granted a budget to build the current facility as his command center. He had to fight for every allocation for his project. The military didn’t want to put any funds into the project and, in fact, had fought to cut his budget. The civilian government, who had originally approved the project, was more sympathetic. The Commander had built relationships with certain Politians to help get what he wanted. But even then, nothing came easily. The Confederation government was utterly inefficient and had little real power, and so requests could sit for years. But he also had very powerful contacts that helped him along. The Commander persevered and got most of what he wanted. But he was still waiting for the real payoff.

Lieutenant, return control of Delta 5.

Yes, sir.

Ultradetonium was first found thousands of years ago. It was believed to have mystical properties because it sometimes glowed. In its natural state, is it rare. On the few planets where Ultradetonium was found, it was usually worshiped or used in spiritual rituals.

Of course, today no one believed the old myths. Ultradetonium was a rare and peculiar element that had the capacity to absorb and hold energy. No other natural element has been found that was even similar. Refined Ultradetonium had the ability to store and hold large amounts of energy in small quantities for long periods of time with virtually no loss. But it was difficult to work with; if it takes in too much energy, it implodes and all the energy already stored was lost. The implosions were also dangerous, but only to those within close proximity. That was why the military had given up on it as a weapon. No matter how they manipulated it, it would not explode, only implode causing minimal damage.

The process of transferring energy into Ultradetonium was long and expensive. It was only in the last hundred years that a process was developed to refine and purify Ultradetonium and transfer the energy and extract it later. Despite a hundred years’ experience, the process was still hopelessly slow and prohibitively expensive. But the Confederation saw it as the future, so it continued to pour resources into the project.

Xa’Chir knew the only hope of finding the God Stone of his ancient ancestors was the search for Ultradetonium. In fact, it was only information about the God Stone that he felt fairly sure about—that is was made from Ultradetonium. That made his unlikely decision to go to the Ultradetonium office easy. It was the only place where he would have the time and resources to find the God Stone.

Still sitting in his command chair, he continued to turnover this latest discovery in his head. He knew what the next step had to be.

Lieutenant, please arrange a ship to investigate the most recent reading. I’d like to leave as soon as possible.

Commander, does this reading really warrant a long journey to investigate?

"Lieutenant, any reading warrants a closer examination. Ultradetonium does not