The Foxworthy Files: Sacrifice to the Gods - #4 In the Series

By Susan Hart

FBI agent Lili Foxworthy and her husband, brilliant actor Peter Wolff, travel to the Mayan peninsula for research on one of Peter's upcoming plays, End Game. It's there that they run into an adventure of a lifetime, some old friends, and tales told of one ancestor who may hold the answer to many odd questions. Throw an evil immortal into the mix and it will test them to their very limits of endurance and love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387317974

Susan Hart

I was born in England, but have lived in Southern California for many years. I m now retired and live in the Pacific NW in a little seaside city amongst the giant redwoods and wonderful harbor, almost at the Oregon border. My husband and I have one cat, called Midnight and she is featured in two of my latest Sci-Fi short stories. I love Science Fiction, animals, and trying to help others. I publish under Doreen Milstead as well as my own name. My photo was taken right before the coronation of QE II in the UK.

Book preview

The Foxworthy Files: Sacrifice to the Gods - #4 In the Series

The Foxworthy Files: Sacrifice To The Gods - #4 In the series

By

Susan Hart

Copyright 2017 Susan Hart

Chapter 1

Q broke a sweat as he rocketed through the blue-green planet’s atmosphere of two-thirds water. Despite his being immortal, he occasionally got lost in the vastness of space, that void where his spiral-armed galaxy was located. It was his home, but Q didn’t always find his way there easily.

He ran one hand through his spikey blond hair and over his trimmed, short beard. Q knew that if he didn’t soon land, the sleek, gunmetal-grey starship he was piloting would be on fire from the atmospheric friction and he’d be crisp toast. It had already started to glow soft reddish orange; a warning color that time was short.

However, Q liked to play at the edge of danger most of the time, that place where the dividing line between success and destruction lay, the place that could conjure up sensual pleasure likening to the second before a climax. It was his thrill to be on this edge, and it was his style.

His brilliant blue eyes, a gift was from mother so long ago that he’d forgotten exactly when he was born, darted back and forth across the bank of high-tech gauges and computer screens that sat before him; they assessed his situation, but they didn’t change it. Q had to figure out how to land his starship without crumbling into a million pieces and bursting into flames.

The instrument panel didn’t hide the truth of likelihood; this could be his last day, his last breath if his calculation was one tiny millimeter off. The starship grew hotter, its glow brighter. This had to be exactly right.

Q surveyed the planet below him, his target. On one side, he saw a small peninsula that jutted northward. It was covered in the lush greenery of trees and plants headed into a tropical sea. That looks as good as anything else I can see, he said aloud to himself. Gotta land somewhere. He pointed the starship in the peninsula’s direction.

Even in this situation of potential obliteration, Q let his mind wander ahead to what he might find on this strange place. I wonder what type of intelligent life is down there, he thought. Are there animals? Maybe some people? Someone to talk to?

Being the last one of a race limited the options.

Finding conversations and intelligent life were extremely difficult when those like you no longer existed, or existed in such small numbers that the event of running across someone like you was very rare. Q zoomed onward to his newly selected destination, anxious to have this dangerous situation resolved, one way or another.

Q was a shape-shifter; he could assume any form of life he chose. His current one had been a favorite for a very long time, a hundred years or so actually. Sometimes, though, his shape-shifting talents sucked; they would get him into a shape that he hated and in which he’d be stuck for a period. It only took his being in a given shape for a few seconds before his actions became as functional as the being he represented.

Q held tightly onto both sides of the console as the ship began to shake violently. He steadied himself to the movements, forcing his body to be limber enough to absorb the shakiness of the ship. Still, his mind processed. Even it the life forms on that last planet could have talked, they were incomprehensible. This place could not possibly be any worse.

Inside the ship, temperatures rose as he sped forward toward the peninsula. Q scanned the jungle ahead quickly, trying to find a remotely flat area ahead of his flight path. In his peripheral vision, he sought out any signs of civilization of life; buildings, animals or even an anthropoid being. Something, anything that indicated this mass of land wasn’t completely deserted.

He braced for a hard impact as the starship shook even more brutally. A new thought crossed his mind; Q could abandon ship and take on a new shape, a winged exotic animal form with which he could just fly from his cocoon of danger and be safe. He concentrated deeply as his ship plunged forward and the heat within it grew more intense.

However, nothing happened; his shape remained as it was. In addition, with it went his emotions and the ability to feel anything but panic or fear eluded him. Something had changed; Q felt weird all over, but he accepted his fate.

Oh shit, he said aloud. Here goes nothing.

The last thing Q saw before it all went blank was the oncoming ground on which stood a large tree directly in his line of approach. He summoned every ounce of courage his being knew and braced himself for impact, closing his mind to everything.

Crashing to Earth in three thousand B.C. would prove to be a very interesting multi-millennial experience for this one-of-a-kind alien who was unluckily stuck in his current humanoid form.

Very slowly, Q regained consciousness, although the amount of time it took wasn’t measurable to him, because time didn’t matter. His head felt heavy, like it weighed a hundred pounds. He pressed both hands against his temple to steady his mind. As reality returned, Q looked around his starship. He was surprised and relieved that the crash had only caused light damage and that he was also spared; he was alive.

Without regard for the soreness he felt, Q moved his hands across the instrument panel, fingering a dent here and there, but in all, he was surprised at how well the ship had taken the impact. It brought a slight smile to his lips. Assured that the inside cabin air pressure was still up, Q sucked in a deep breath of air knowing that it wasn’t poisonous or infested with harmfully toxic microbes.

He patted the console as if patting the back of a friend. Good job, Buddy, he said to the ship. Maybe I can fix your damage so we’ll be ready to ride out of here when we’re ready. Q pulled himself up from his seat just as a pounding on the spaceship door sounded. Must be the locals with a welcome basket, he said, rubbing his head to ward off a headache creeping on.

Q staggered to the door where he pulled the air-lock lever several times before it popped open. The brilliant sunshine blinded him for a few moments, but as his vision returned, his eyes focused on a semicircle of people gathered around the ship’s door. Mmm…this looks very promising, he said to himself, assessing the crowd. They are smiling and look half intelligent. Best part is they didn’t run away when they saw this almost flaming piece of metal fall from the sky and land on their planet. This might turn out to be a very good spot for me. In addition, what an historical event this will be for them; making legends, that’s what I’m doing.

Hundreds of times over thousands of years, Q had influenced many civilizations. No matter how hard he tried to not interfere, it happened. This time would probably be no different. He picked up his universal translator and banged it a few times with his hand. He pressed the ON switch, but it didn’t work.

He pressed it on and off a few times, hoping that would activate it, but it would not come on. In disgust, he threw it into a corner of the control room. Q stepped outside the safety of his starship and faced the crowd outside, smiling broadly at his new acquaintances, not knowing what would come of this landing.

Well, here goes nothing, he said to himself. A line of poetry flowed from his mouth. TaH pagh taHbe’. DaH mu’tlheghvam vIqelnIS. Quv’a', yabDaq San vaQ cha, pu’ je SIQDI’? Hach kíichpan, maasima? Q knew those words could be enough to scare the people away, so he added more. Greetings! My name is Quetzalcoatl, but you may call me simply Q. I’m sorry to barge in on your world like this, but the ship could go no farther. If you like, we can make some kind of beneficial arrangements until I can repair my ship and be on my way.

No one said anything as his eyes scanned the group in search of a friendly face. Finally, the apparent leader of the people gestured with his arm. Immediately, the entire group fell to their knees, prostrating themselves so that Q could no longer see their faces. The leader was dressed in clothes much fancier than those worn by the others, and strands of great gems and stones adorned his neck.

Thinking quickly, Q continued. Please…don’t do that. Don’t bow to me; I’m just a lost traveler, nothing more. Maybe we can find a way to be of help to each other.

No one said anything. Q started to say more, but slapped his head in disbelief. I’m an idiot! My translator is broken, so my words must sound like gibberish to you. The group, except for the leader, remained prone to the ground. Shit! This always happens to me. Guess I’ll just have to learn their language the old fashioned way…by listening to them and fitting words with actions.

Q stepped to the ground and approached the leader, his hand extended in friendship.

It was a few hundred years later before Q managed to acquire enough pure metal to fix his starship. Even if he had been able to fix it immediately, Q would have stayed awhile because he liked the people and especially the planet where he had so abruptly landed many moons before. The precious minerals of the planet were plentiful, especially gold, but it was too soft for his purposes. Nonetheless, the people had gifted him with an enormous amount of the gold, plus other gleaming objects of all shapes and sizes.

His ship was full of drinking goblets of hammered gold, many with elaborate designs, the likes of which he had never encountered. The galley as pack with wonderfully decorated plates and knives, whose handles were studded with precious gems. Over the years, Q had helped the priests of the planet create a very complex calendar, a copy of which lay in a chair where he used to sit.

The calendar was his pride and joy; it had been developed to represent the past and current five thousand annual rotations of the planet, plus or minus a few years.