...we too are stardust...
"Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man."
Sometimes it begins after a long night of falling snow, with a beautiful sunrise and a gentle wind blowing over two schoolchildren destined to grow up and rend the cosmos with strife. Sometimes it begins on an evening where the smell of burning leaves and pumpkin pie swirl around a house where worried parents wait in torment for their child to come home. And sometimes it begins at a door marked "3B."
"Keys," she muttered, the straps of her purse clenched firmly between her teeth, a leather bag filled with textbooks and papers propped under her arm, and two hands rustling frantically through her pockets. Hearing a small jingle, she expectantly pulled out her left hand, but her heart sank when all she saw was a handful of quarters and dimes. She heard another jingle and expected to pull out another pile of change, but this time smiled to herself as the keys twinkled in the fluorescent hall lights. Thankful, Amber unlocked her apartment door and pushed her way inside immediately before dumping all of her belongings onto the kitchen table.
Sighing exasperatedly, Amber lifted up a tablet of paper with the words "Out shopping - back around 5:00" scribbled in the center of the top page. Typical Rebecca, spending her days at the mall while Amber spent hers surrounded by second graders trying to keep their attention just long enough to teach them another social studies chapter. Then, in the evenings, of course, she would head straight to the sports bar downtown and waitress until some obscene hour the next morning then get home just in time to collapse in bed and do it all over again the next day. The two roommates had fallen into this dull routine six months ago and it felt now that time was standing still.
The kitchen blinds were open, causing a strange checkerboard reflection of light throughout the room, and Amber anxiously proceeded to the bathroom to freshen up. When she was cleaned up and changed into more comfortable clothes, she came back out into the living room and jumped onto the couch, sitting with her legs under her rear end. With one hand she reached for the remote control and with the other she pressed the button on their answering machine.
"Yeah, Becca, this is your father. Give me a call when you're home. Bye." Richard Spencer sounded somehow different from his usual rambling messages.
"Hi girls, it's Alex. I just wanted to know if Amber wanted to go out tonight. Let me know when you get in. Later." Alexander, on the other hand, could not have left a more typical message if he read from a script. She laughed as she reached for the phone, ready to dial his number and tease him a bit before accepting.
As though anticipating her action, the phone suddenly rang. Initially, surprised, she drew back, then went ahead and grabbed the receiver and held it up to her ear. "Hi, Alex. I don't think I can..."
"Ms. Donaldson," the voice at the other end interrupted her.
Startled a second time, she stuttered, "Oh, oh, I'm sorry. Yes, this is Ms. Don...I mean, this is Amber Donaldson."
"This is Victor Wilson, United States Department of Defense liaison to EON," the caller introduced himself.
On the television, Oprah had just walked on stage, and the crowd of women in the audience was giving her a standing ovation, ready for whatever inane show she was able to put on for them. Partly because she needed her attention, and partly because she hated Oprah altogether, Amber turned the television off once more and replied, "Sure, Mr. Wilson, I remember you from our visit three years ago. Is something the matter?"
"No," Wilson answered quickly, like he was anticipating the question. "Everything is fine and under control. I was simply calling to ask if you wanted to make another trip to Greece; the new Executive Director of our agency wants to meet you and your friends."
"Oh." For the most part, EON, the agency charged with the protection of Earth now that Amber and the other Omni Rangers had returned to regular civilian lives, left them all alone. They had been contacted once before, for a visit to Abner Donaldson Memorial Research Center shortly before it was completed, and at that time they handed over their OmniTech and ShadowTech Ability Bands. Unconsciously now she reached to the necklace around her neck where two coins, one silver and one black, hung suspended. "I suppose we could make some time around Easter break..."
"It must be immediately," Wilson added, a twist of irritation wrapped in his voice, as if he were following orders that he himself disagreed with. That could not be good news, if this new director was putting the unflappable Victor Wilson on edge. "He insists on meeting all of the Rangers this weekend."
Amber sighed, brushing some loose strands of hair that were beginning to annoy her away from her ear and the telephone. "That's impossible," she said firmly. "First of all, that is way too short of a notice. And second, Cecil doesn't even keep in contact with us anymore. He moved away four years ago and, except for one or two letters, none of us has heard from him since."
"I'll make you an offer," Wilson countered. "I can locate and call him, if you gather your friends and promise to be here tomorrow. The Network will handle all flight costs and any other expenses you incur along the way." Then, just when he was starting to sound like the gruff old man she remembered, he added softly, "Please."
The decision seemed to be an open and shut case, but still there was some fearful tugging sensation that kept her chest cold. There was a feeling deep in her gut that something terrible was about to happen and now, if she agreed to go, she would be putting all of her friends straight in its path. "Could I come alone?" she wondered.
On the other end of the line, Wilson made a chuckling grunting noise, perhaps he was clearing his throat. "He insists on meeting all of you," he repeated.
"It sounds like he's insisting on my foot up his ass," Amber muttered to herself. She could not tell if Wilson had heard her comment or not. Louder, she replied, "If the others agree, I will call you back and book a flight tonight."
"Thank you." With those two simple words, before Amber thought the better of it and changed her mind, the clicking sound signaling the end of the call echoed in her ears.
Moaning uncomfortably, she dropped the receiver, startled when she heard a louder slam than she expected. It was not the phone that had made the noise, however, rather it was Rebecca closing the door forcefully. For perhaps only the second time since they had known one another, Amber realized, Rebecca had just come back from the mall with absolutely no bags or boxes whatsoever. She even looked a little flustered and surprised herself. Taking off her jacket and hanging it on the doorknob, she called out, "Hi Amber. Who was that?"
Tilting her head, Amber responded, "Who was who?"
"On the phone," she clarified, a soft smile breaking across her face. She had the kind of brown eyes that twinkled when something interesting caught her attention, and that twinkle was instantly out in full force.
"The phone," repeated Amber, leaning back against the couch cushions to try and get rid of that uncomfortable feeling growing inside her. "That was the guy we met three years ago at the research center."
Rebecca sat down in a recliner facing the couch, but instead of sitting normally she kept hunched forward, as if they were sharing gossip and she was excited. "Gabriel? He was kind of hot, don't you think? Except I could tell he had the hots for Brit..."
A shaking head stopped her from finishing the sentence, and Amber corrected, "Not him. Victor Wilson. He wants all of us to return as soon as we can."
"Can't do," Rebecca said, collapsing back into her seat, no longer in a position suggesting interest. "Friday night is the busiest night. We have some piano player who had a bunch of hits in the 90's tonight..."
"I promised him." Amber stood up to stretch and try to eradicate that uncomfortable knot in her stomach. It was not getting any better. "Come on, we have to go get Brittany, Alex, and Bane."
Something instantly sparked the younger girl's interest, and she was up on her feet as well. The neighbor must have decided it was too quiet, because they could now hear his stereo playing music through their living room wall. "What about..."
"EON is going to contact Cecil," Amber told her, anticipating the question. Four years ago when Cecil left, no one was as affected by the unexpected turn of events than Rebecca. There was no boyfriend-girlfriend relationship that Amber was aware of, but of all the friendships among their close-knit group, theirs was one of the strongest. They shared a sense of humor, as evident by their constant teasing of one another, but beyond that it was a mystery. Perhaps it was true that opposites attract. Rebecca was an outgoing personality, always dipping into a social scene, changing jobs and love interests as fast as she changed wardrobes. On the other end of the spectrum, Cecil was a rebel and lone wolf, preferring some book written by a philosopher five hundred years ago more than the company of large groups. He was not anti-social, but it did take a bit of time to familiarize with his unique personality.
Rebecca picked up the phone as that spark in her eyes grew brighter. "I'll call in sick for the weekend," she decided. Then, waving her finger and cracking a big smile, she added a warning, "Don't you interrupt this..."
"Just call," Amber moaned, and disappeared into her bedroom to get dressed and embark on a quest to gather her old companions and herd them to the airport.
A few minutes later, staring in the mirror, the sense of impending anxiety continued to grow. She sadly looked at the coins hanging around her neck, the coins that would activate the Shadow Morpher and the Red Ranger's Omni Morpher. "Oh, get over it already," she told herself. "Twilight Legion is gone. Michael and Craig are dead. There's no such thing as Omni Rangers anymore. The crusade is over."
Sometimes it begins on television. On the screen, a commercial for a used Buick salesman was persuading the public to discover the best deals of the year at their dealership. Across from the screen, Brittany Elliott was sitting in her recliner, a laptop computer sitting comfortably on her raised legs. She was typing quickly, probably another e-mail or a response in some chatroom, but she was paying attention to her friends at the same time.
Amber was finishing explaining her earlier phone call. The living room of the Elliotts's house was very spacious and beautifully decorated; Brittany, her father, and her older brother were all prominently placed within the Ivory Glade Savings Bank system and, as a result, had accumulated a significant amount of money among the three of them. Her brother Daniel had gotten engaged recently, and Brittany was spending more time with his fiancée Tracey than she was spending with them.
"I promised Tracey we would drive together to Denver tomorrow," sighed Brittany. She closed the computer and set it down gently on the floor near where its power cord was plugged in. Sitting upright, she showed a glimpse of an excited smile. "I'll have to think of some way to cancel out of it."
"So you can flirt with Ga-a-a-a-abriel some more," Rebecca teased, making kissing motions in the air.
The evening news had just started, and Amber was distracted by it as Brittany and Rebecca began bickering back and forth, almost like they were trying to catch up. "I'm Kevin Carson, and this is the Channel Seven, Ivory Glade's news leader since 1984. Tonight's top story, a geneticist whose rising fame has taken the world by storm, Dr. Ronald Cain, has made the claim he has perfected the technique..."
Rebecca grabbed Amber's arm, but quickly Amber hissed, "Shhhh."
"Oh, that story again," Brittany said, a little disgust in her voice. "They've been repeating it over and over since this morning. That guy is going to be giving a speech at Abner Donaldson Memorial Research Center tomorrow morning."
"What a coincidence," remarked Rebecca. The tone of her voice seemed to indicate the statement was purely sarcastic.
The television newscast continued. "...requires only a segment of genetic material, or D.N.A. We will have a complete wrap-up of his monumental speech tomorrow night at ten. In sports, the Ivory Glade Elephants won a spectacular victory today versus..."
"You look like you're feeling sick," observed Brittany, putting her hand over Amber's forehead. Amber had not even noticed her getting out of the chair or coming near her. "Do you want to lay down a little while?"
"No, no, I'm fine," Amber insisted. "Come on, we have to get over to Bane and Rachel's house."
Sometimes it begins in bed, undressed and laying next to the most beautiful woman on Earth, arm around her shoulders and her head nestled lovingly against his chest, awakening to the sounds of a doorbell filling the entire house.
As he slipped on a fuzzy navy blue robe, he gently kissed her and left her sleeping, and took a last look before trudging down the hallway. Stopping to check the thermostat, Bane adjusted it to a temperature just slightly colder, and proceeded to the front door, undoing both locks and swinging it open to the last of the afternoon light. "You," he said flatly.
"Nice to see you, too, B-Man," Rebecca chirped, grinning from ear to ear. She poked him in the stomach and added, "Did we disturb a do-not-disturb moment?" Bane did not so much as flinch as he dropped his hold on the doorknob and began walking toward the kitchen table. He motioned for them both to sit.
Amber sat down, still quiet, but Rebecca remained standing, her hands in her jacket pockets, staring at the interior design of Bane and Rachel's house. They were not rich like Brittany's family, but because of who he was EON provided Bane with whatever he asked for. In exchange, of course, he was one of their two strongest connections to the planet of New Omnis. The other Omnian remaining on Earth, a middle-aged man named Rade, also lived someone in the United States, but they were never told where and they had not seen him for four years.
"How's it going?" Amber wondered politely. She noticed some unopened mail addressed to Henry Vaughan sitting on the table in front of her.
Bane leaned against his wall, one foot propped up behind him against it, and kept his arms crossed to prevent his robe from coming open. "Life has settled. It is good." Like his biological father, Bane possessed eyes that looked like polished crystal; instead of having a color of their own, they reflected back any other colors present in the room. "Has something come up?"
"Sort of," Rebecca answered too quickly.
"I got a call from Victor Wilson about two hours ago," Amber informed him. "He wants all of us to come to Omega Complex as soon as we can to meet the new EON director."
For a long time, Bane remained quiet, shifting his gaze from one woman to the next, thoughts clearly blazing through his mind at thousands of miles per hour. It appeared as though he was biting down on his lower lip. Nervously, Amber smiled and pretended she was comfortable. Meanwhile Rebecca had started wandering around the rest of the house, commenting on all of the decorations and furniture that caught her attention. From her comments, she seemed to be enamored with the couple's living room fireplace.
Finally, he spoke again. "You will need to talk to Patrick. He is your Ranger now."
"I don't think they want us to fight again," Amber insisted. "I just think he wants to meet us..."
With an almost irritated manner, Bane dropped his stance and started walking toward the bedroom in the back of the house. "I want nothing more to do with them. If this new director wants to meet me so bad, the asshole can come here." He disappeared.
Sighing heavily, Amber stood up and went into the living room to forcefully pull Rebecca away from the fireplace. She was in the process of "Awww"ing each of the pictures placed along the mantle. One of Bane scowling and Rachel smiling with Niagara Falls in the background. Another, a particularly rare sight, showing Bane with just a hint of a smile feeding a carrot to a goat in the middle of a desert. That one made Amber laugh despite her growing sensation of dread.
"I guess I'll get Patrick," Rebecca sighed. She stared out the window at the house across the street where Rachel's older brother lived by himself. "Why don't you go pluck Alex out of his studio and meet us at the airport?"
"Alright," she sighed back. "This is starting to get on my nerves."
Sometimes it begins on the ground, knocked down after a powerful roundhouse kick, delivered by a student with the potential to overpower and outclass his instructor. With a weak smile to distract himself from the pain that spread down his left side, Alexander stood up and bowed respectfully to his opponent before resuming an offensive stance. Joshua Reynolds returned the gesture, and immediately launched into another attack. This time, however, Alex blocked the kick with his forearm and countered with his right hand, his fingers folded into his palm, slammed into Josh's abdomen. The other young man staggered back, but only slightly, before falling to the ground intentionally. Using his hands to push the rest of his body upward, he slammed one foot against each of Alex's shins. Alex fell, helpless, to his knees. Laughing sharply, Josh leapt to his feet and placed his hand triumphantly on the loser's head.
"Not yet," Alex growled. With one hand, he grabbed the wrist of Josh's victorious hand, and with the other he wrapped it as much around his ankle as he could. With a burst of strength, he flipped Josh over completely, so that their positions were instantly reversed. Once Josh was on his back, Alex leaned down to pin both of his student's hands to the floor. "Good job."
Josh snorted as he broke free of his instructor's hold and climbed to his feet by himself. He straighten his outfit and bowed his respect again before rushing off to the locker room without speaking.
"Nice match," Amber commented him from outside the mat that comprised the ring. Every light in Sharpened Senses was on, and it was a full house tonight, with at least thirty students of different ages, sexes, and shapes sparring with one another. A small group of them had congregated nearby to watch Alex's match with Josh. Amber had arrived just shortly after it began, so unless he was keeping his eyes on the sidelines, he had not known she was there.
Lifting a towel and wiping a layer of sweat off his face, Alex replied, "Thanks," and motioned for her to follow him to the refreshment bar. "Two strawberry smoothies, please, Rob," he said to the waiter behind the counter.
"No, I don't want any..." began Amber.
"They're both for me," Alex cut in, a quiet smile highlighting the obvious and lame cover-up attempt. "I got killer thirsty right in the middle and lost my concentration. Still don't understand how Grandfather did this for twenty years."
Amber nodded her support, and wondered aloud, "How is he doing?"
"As ornery as ever," Alex replied with a chuckle. "He comes by maybe once a week to check on things." He glanced quickly at his watch and added, "I thought maybe we could check out the new family restaurant downtown. I mean, I know we don't have a family yet...uhhh...not that we're going to...ummm..."
Rob was delivering his two smoothies, and Alex could not hurry quick enough to pick one up and start drinking it right away. Amber seized this opportunity while his mouth was busy to bring up the pressing topic of the day. "I can't go on a date tonight. In fact, you might not be able to either. I got a call from Victor Wilson this afternoon."
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then wiping the back of his hand on his sleeveless forest green t-shirt, Alex cocked his head and repeated, "Victor Wilson?"
"The military guy we met at Omega Complex," Amber reminded him. "Apparently they recently promoted someone as EON director, and now this guy wants to meet us in person." Then, sourly, she attached, "This weekend."
Alex coughed as he inhaled a bit too much of his drink, then after swallowing he barked a loud laugh. There was an amused look on his face that did not touch his eyes. When Amber had first met him, Alex had the most stunningly green eyes she had ever seen in her life; after what happened to him because of Rapture Hold, however, those eyes had become sad, unresponsive, and pale. Of course, she could not imagine what he had gone through, and in all possibility his eyes were not the only thing changed by his descent into insanity and instantaneous supernatural recovery.
He picked up the second tall cup, but instead of drinking this one he grabbed a straw from the holder nearby and stirred it mechanically. "I can't just close this place and run off to Greece. I have a responsibility to keep this place open." She noticed that, even when practicing, he wore two necklaces, one holding his Hypercoin and the other displaying a golden crucifix inlaid with a beautiful emerald.
"Well, you could let me handle that." Although Amber knew he was there, the voice startled Alex, and he turned around uncertain to find Joshua, leaning over the counter and downing an entire eight-ounce glass of water with one gulp. "I'd be glad to run this place for the weekend. Consider your vacation the spoils of victory."
Everyone in Ivory Glade knew the secret identities of the Power Rangers, or at least those kids who had been Rangers four years ago. Shortly after returning from their final battle, Alex had begun giving martial arts lessons, and Joshua Reynolds was one of his first few students. With Craig and Cecil permanently gone, in fact, Josh was Alex's closest male friend, and in time they had shared their entire life stories with one another. Even drenched in the uncertainty about Alex's mental state following his ordeal, Josh still hung around with him.
"Yeah, I suppose that would be alright," Alex thought aloud. Then, with a point accompanying his warning, he said, "No parties."
"No parties," Josh repeated, crossing his heart with his own finger. "Just lots and lots of hot chicks and expensive lingerie." And, with a laugh to indicate his joke, he slipped away to join some of the guys hollering at him to have a match with them next.
Sighing at the typical male sexual sense of humor, Amber grabbed Alex's shoulders and turned him in the director of the locker room. "Now, go get dressed, we have a plane to catch." He groaned unhappily, but he obeyed nonetheless, flashing a final quick look at Josh before disappearing into the back of the studio.
In her heart, Amber wished he did not have to go along with them. Being the Green Ranger had cost him his youth--he was literally plucked from his junior high school year--his innocence--it tormented him for nights when he was forced to kill one of his classmates, a Legionnaire, to prevent his friends from being killed in turn--his health--he had been infected with a terrible poisoning for over a year that would burn painfully whenever he was near the substance called pseudoine--and eventually his mind. She desperately wished nothing more than to keep him at a safe distance from anything remotely related to their Ranger lives. But he was dedicated and strong, and would probably die before passing the burden of protecting Earth to anyone else, and that was probably what attracted her most to him. A sense of responsibility and fairness.
Sometimes it begins on an airplane, on a fourteen-hour-long last-minute flight, somewhere over and above the Atlantic Ocean. Outside the window, clouds and darkness prevented them from seeing any of the sights below, but the captain was periodically announcing their altitude and position. The television monitors in the front of the cabin switched back and forth between a map showing their present location and a weather forecast for the next six hours. It was better than the lame in-flight movie that was playing earlier, another dull and predictable teen flick with a happy ending.
"I hate the ending to pretty much every book and movie I've ever seen," Patrick commented from out of nowhere. "It's not that I'm hard to please, really, I guess I'm just very critical of things that are supposed to be entertainment."
Amber was relaxed, leaning back, with her arms folded haphazardly across one another, and she absently replied, "Yeah, I feel the same."
She was sitting next to Patrick, almost toward the back of the plane, and thankfully the seat between them was empty giving her enough space to be satisfied. Her friends had been excited at the airport, hoping to fly first class and live in the lap of luxury for the next several hours on EON's dime. But the only plane that had five seats available, and that was leaving anytime soon, was coach. Through their cursing and mumbling, Amber had promised them their return trip would be immaculate.
Across the aisle and up a few rows, Brittany, Rebecca, and Alexander were fast asleep, Rebecca's head resting gently on Alex's shoulder, and Amber had to admit a little bit of jealousy at that. She was intelligent enough to know it was all innocent, however. The seating arrangement was not something they planned on, it just happened of its own accord during the boarding process with all of the other passengers pushing and jostling each other around.
Something struck the window she was sitting near, likely a piece of ice or something, and startled her. The feeling of unsettling nature was still balled up inside her, and she decided it was getting unbearable being cooped up in her seat. "Excuse me," she whispered to Patrick, "I'm going to stand up and walk for a bit."
"Do you mind if I sit by the window for a while, then?" he asked excitedly.
"Sure," she answered with a phony smile. "I'll be back in a bit." She all but crawled over him to make it to the open aisle, and he hurriedly slid over into the window seat. Taking one glance, a look of disappointment swept over him upon realizing he could see nothing outside.
Walking in the aisle to the back of the cabin, she reached the bathroom and sighed upon realizing it was occupied. It felt like she was going to throw up, but it was not air sickness, because she had been on several flights before. To distract her mind, she tapped her foot and studied the map of the world pasted on the back wall. Someone had scribbled on it in green crayon, and imagining the child who did that brought a smile to her face.
The latch to the bathroom unlocked and a woman emerged from its seclusion. Instantly, Amber was struck with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. The stranger appeared slightly older than her, but not by much. Her brown hair was long and straight, well-brushed, with a simple white barrette keeping it away from her face. She gave a start upon realizing Amber was staring back at her, and breathlessly apologized, "I'm sorry." However, despite the reaction, her deep brown eyes did not betray any sign of surprise.
"Excuse me," Amber apologized back out of courtesy. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just haven't been feeling well."
"Oh, planes do that to me, too," the woman replied. Her voice was so intimately familiar, it triggered something buried deep in Amber's memory. "I once flew from Denver to Miami and I must have eaten two packages full of Dramamine." She smiled innocently and finished, "I made it there in one piece, but I spent most of spring break asleep in the hotel room."
Amber laughed. It was partly genuine, but also sort of forced because she was anxious to get past this woman and into the bathroom. That disturbing feeling was stronger now than it had been all day long.
"Oh, oh, sorry, sorry," the strange woman stammered, moving out of the way. "I'm Krista, by the way," she said off-handedly. "If you need any Dramamine..." She clasped her hands together and used her two index fingers to point to any empty seat toward the front of coach. "I'll be up there."
Sparing a final obligatory smile, Amber said, "Thanks," and closed the door tightly, locking it so she was safely inside.
Sometimes it begins standing alongside four of your best friends, gathered in the beautiful lobby of Abner Donaldson Memorial Research Center, tired and embarrassed beyond belief. Rebecca was telling the story again, this time with the secretary of the front desk and a security guard listening in. "I woke up in the middle of the flight to go to the bathroom, but I couldn't because it smelled like puke. It was the most disgusting thing I think I've ever seen, and that includes slimy aliens and monsters with burning scales for skin."
The secretary's laugh was melodious, but to Amber it only served to further redden her face. Patrick patted her calmingly on the back; he was the only one besides her who knew the truth, and he was thankfully sparing her from major ridicule for the rest of her life. "The flight attendant even brought scented candles back to us," Brittany added cheerfully.
The sight of Victor Wilson and Gabriel Kaisa getting off the elevator was like a blessing from God. "Hi there," Gabriel chirped, his gray eyes locking instantly on Brittany, particularly to what she was wearing, the white skirt embroidered with yellow flowers. "Glad you all got here so fast. Our new director is meeting with the EON committee right now, but we have specific instructions to take you to his office to wait for him."
"Has Cecil arrive yet?" asked Rebecca, sidling up next to Brittany to try and steal some of Gabriel's attention for herself.
A secretive look passed between Wilson and Kaisa, before Wilson shook his head regretfully. She looked slightly saddened by the response, but quickly washed it away and began ogling the bustling activity going on all around her. None of them had any clue what EON actually did, only what their primary purpose was.
Patrick appeared anxious as he asked quietly, "Do you think it will be alright that I'm here and not Bane? We asked him to accompany us, but..."
"We expected that," answered Gabriel. "It'll be fine. The director can be stubborn at times, but he understands people and their emotions fairly well."
"So, who is this person?" wondered Alex. "Have we met him before? Did one of the Omnians come back?"
Wilson held up his hand firmly and stated, "I do not have authorization for anything other than to escort you to the seventh floor, where we will wait until he is able to answer your questions himself."
As the group collected themselves and got onto the elevator, Brittany capitalized on the closeness to make her way closer to Gabriel, and he seemed to like the attention, completely ignorant of Wilson's exasperated expression. Amber's upset stomach was now completely gone, and she felt a brand new person, albeit still embarrassed by the experience as a whole. "I heard stories a few years back about an attack," she said after the doors were closed.
Wilson pressed the button and the elevator was smooth as butter as it began its ascent to the seventh floor. "In July of 2002, a perpetrator broke into the Cipher System mainframe and stole classified data. We never got a positive identification. Since then, our security has doubled during daylight and quadrupled after dark. There have been no attempts since then."
As the light indicated they were passing the fourth floor, Amber continued probing, "Do you know what information they took?"
"Unfortunately, the experts we consulted could only pinpoint the directory that was accessed." For someone with orders to say nothing, Wilson was awfully talkative when he was cornered in an elevator. Of course, Amber knew the old man respected who they were and what they had accomplished, and was grateful for his acquaintance. "We know it was something to do with the Orion Five Projects."
She was about to inquire further, but suddenly a bell was dinging, and the doors opened to reveal the breathtaking seventh floor of Omega Complex. There was a working fountain prominently displayed in front of them as they stepped out of the lift, with an inscription identifying it as donated by an old associate of Professor Donaldson's. The ceiling was one large skylight, spreading the Sunday sunlight throughout the top floor of the building. Of the first three doors the group passed, they did not recognize any of the names. After turning the corner, they passed Wilson's own office followed by two more before reaching their destination.
The door was inconspicuous, unlabelled and ordinary, but what waited for them inside was anything but. Instead of a skylight, the ceiling in here was stained glass, the same kind that churches used to depict religious scenes and symbols, only this was arranged in the five-diamond insignia that EON had adopted. Two couches draped in black velvet were placed opposite an ornate oak desk. The director's chair was cushioned, tall, and looked more comfortable than any office furniture Amber had ever seen in her life.
Behind the desk and seat, a massive painting was prominently displayed, clearing designed to be the main focus of the room. It was beautiful, a scene in blues and greens and yellows and browns, depicting human beings engaged in various activities.
"What is that?" Brittany asked of Gabriel, pointing toward the painting.
"It's Paul Gauguin," stated Rebecca, matter-of-factly. "It's called 'Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going?' It's stunning!"
More than anything, Amber was curious to know why Rebecca would know something as obscure and unexpected as that. They had known one another for more than five years, and in that entire time she had never once indicated a taste for artwork, unless clothes were considered a form of art.
"Hey, they're gone," Patrick whispered.
Amber turned around and noticed that, sometime during their childlike gawking, Wilson and Kaisa had slipped out and closed the door behind them. "Great," she grumbled, sitting down on one of the couches and leaning her head backward to stare straight up at the tacky stained glass design. "I hope this director shows up soon. I'm sick of all the secrecy and urgency. There's nothing more insulting than keeping secrets."
"This from secret identity of the mysterious Black Ranger," Alex teased jokingly.
Getting a cramp in her neck, she turned back to look around the room some more. For the first time, she noticed a metal box sitting on the desk, draped in a black cloth, and despite not knowing the contents of that box she had a mysterious feeling to be afraid of whatever they were. Was this box the source of her discomfort, the reason they had been called upon so suddenly and intensely?
The door started to open. All together, Amber, Patrick, Alexander, Brittany, and Rebecca turned to stare in anticipation of meeting the new Executive Director of EON, the man who had uprooted them from their peaceful lives.
"Hi."
Rebecca took a halfway-gone package of Life Savers and flung them in irritation at the person who had just entered the office. "You ass," she scolded. "We thought you were the director we're supposed to be meeting."
Smiling, the familiar young man bent down to pick up the Life Savers and handed them politely back to his old friend. "I am," he told her.
"Right," she replied, sarcastically, twisting her upper lip and tilting her head to accent the disbelief in her voice.
"Actually," Victor Wilson interrupted them, standing in the doorway, casting a shadow with the sunlight behind him, "this is the Executive Director of the Earth-Omnis Network, Cecil Mercuric. I know you have important business to attend to, so if you need me, I will be standing watch outside." He shut the door without making a sound.
They did not talk, but merely gaped at him with looks of utter confusion and skepticism, waiting for him to say something, a smart ass comment or an insightful introspection, but none came. He simply walked around the desk and sat down in the chair he was claiming to be his. His head eclipsed the feet of the person reaching for fruit in the painting behind him.
Finally, the silence must have been getting to him, and Cecil asked, "How are things back home?"
"It's not your home anymore," Rebecca chided, while Alex answered honestly, "Everyone's been well. We were a little surprised by how fast you wanted us to get here."
"Oh, Alex, you're not buying this?" Rebecca demanded angrily, but she was ignored again as Cecil replied back in a calm voice, "I am glad you did, and appreciative of it. I hear you are running Sharpened Senses on your own now."
"Maybe he wouldn't have had to if you hadn't aban..."
Turning a little irritated, Amber snapped, "Enough, Becky," and instantly, more than slightly surprised, the other woman sharply fell silent. She was unsure of whether to be glad or upset to see their old friend, so she settle for simply saying, "Hi, Cecil."
Cecil grinned mischievously. He was leaning forward, his head resting against his hand with two fingers against his chin, and the look in his eyes could only be called one of studying them. Four years ago, Cecil stood high on the list of intelligent people Amber knew, now there was no telling how far up that list he had moved, if at all. Compared to when he left, he looked slightly different, but not much. His hair was short and parted down the middle, brushed meticulously. He wore a very thin set of glasses, but he wore them with such fluidity they were virtually unnoticeable, protecting a pair of deep brown eyes that did not betray the slightest of thoughts. Those eyes were so prominent, in fact, that Amber remembered them like she saw them yesterday. Cecil must not have shaved in a week or so, because he was a bit rough around the jowl, and there was a fresh scar alongside his neck.
"I am sorry I interrupted your lives," he apologized. Sincerely. "There is a committee of three men and three woman, the EON committee, which you may have heard of. As the Executive Director, I now supercede them, but I waited until I had their unanimous approval to inform you in person. It was a political move."
Rebecca snorted. "That's convenient," she spat. "What about before then?"
Leaning back in his chair, Cecil closed his eyes and exhaled without sound. "The decision to leave Ivory Glade was the hardest I had ever made, Becky, but it was also the best, because it was the first decision I had made for myself. I told you I was going to Los Angeles, and I did, but not for long. My real reason for leaving was to find out what happened to my sister."
"Your sister?" asked Amber. "The one who disappeared?"
"Yes," Cecil answered. "My parents never told me what happened, no matter how fiercely I insisted, so I took it upon myself to find out. I found nothing about her, but I did find out about the inception of EON, and I acted quickly to join. So, part-time I attended college, getting a dual degree in psychology and philosophy, and part-time I trained to be an EON agent."
Alex shook his head in bewilderment, his voice incredulous as he asked, "So you wanted out of all things Omnian-related so much that you got right back in?"
He never answered. Instead, his eyes locked on Amber with intensity, and he ceased to lean forward against the desk. "Have you had any dreams about Craig?" he wondered. The question caught her off guard that Amber could only blink and puzzle over what the hell that was supposed to mean. She did happen to catch Brittany freeze up, as well, but it was clear Cecil was only looking at her.
"Why would I?" she wanted to know.
"I thought, since you were cousins, you know..." he trailed off. "Nevermind."
From his position on the second couch, Patrick waved to catch everyone's attention and pointed with intrigue to the item sitting on Cecil's desk. "What's in the box?" he asked. "A surprise for us?"
Shaking his head regretfully, Cecil answered, "Hell no." He removed the simple cloth from the metal box and opened it with extreme caution. Everyone else was getting into position to see its contents better, but Amber simply had to lean forward to catch a glimpse. It was a simple disc, made out of a material she could only guess was ivory, because it was a pure unstained hard white substance, with an engraving of a hand holding a ball of light, some of which was escaping through the fingers of the hand. The "light" in the etching shimmered brilliantly like a prism, despite there being no light behind it to function the way a prism normally would.
"What's that?" Patrick asked.
Cecil spoke in a hushed voice, so much so it sent a shiver up Amber's spine. "Its name? It has been called the Focus Emblem, or the Crest of Omnis. The High Lords of that planet wore this as both a symbol of their power and their desire to hold starlight in their hands. Yet it has spent the last twenty-five years on Earth, and the bottom of the Caribbean Sea. One of its functions is holding human souls...but we know that already, don't we?"
"No," Brittany said breathlessly, choking on her words. Rebecca had tears in her eyes, she had obviously recognized it long before Cecil pointed out the similarities. And, just like that, Amber knew this was the source of her sickness, because it immediately returned in full force. There would be no embarrassment for throwing up this time.
"This is the Seal of Meridian-Omega," Cecil explained for Patrick and Alexander's benefit. They had heard the stories, but had not experienced the absolute terror that Cecil, Rebecca, Brittany, Amber, and Bane had underwent four years ago. "The third and final Seal of Hell, the last key to the prison keeping the Devil itself from escaping and fulfilling its promise to recreate existence in its own evil image."
It was clear that Patrick was sorry he ever indicated the box in the first place. "So, if this thing is ever broken..."
Cecil finished the sentence in the most dignified and religious manner he could muster at the spur of a moment. "We will be blown to kingdom come."
It was an act of God. In the same exact three seconds it took Cecil to speak, bright red light filled the room, and a siren outside began wailing at a pitch high enough to awaken the deepest sleeper. Victor Wilson threw the door open to make sure all of them were alright, but there was no sigh of relief. "I don't know what it's about," he stated coldly before any of them had the chance to ask.
Shutting the box as carefully as he had opened it, a feat requiring much skill considering his eyes and ears must have been under tremendous assault from the flood of light and sound, Cecil re-draped the container then pressed a button on his phone and asked into the microphone, "Is there a code red drill scheduled for today?"
"No, sir," a woman's voice informed him from the speakerphone. "Agents are reporting that a giant monster is heading for Omega Complex right now."
For a long while, Cecil paused, appearing as though he was thinking something over of great importance. Finally he stood, took the box in both hands, and handed it to Rebecca, who was too stunned to refuse taking it. "I trust you with this," he said quietly. Then, louder, he ordered, "Wilson, grab some flashlights for us. Everyone else follow me...now."
"Huh?" asked Alex. "Where're we going?"
"To the sub-basement level," the director answered. "There we will take a staircase to Archetype."
There was an exasperated sigh from Alex. "What's Archetype?" he asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. Or maybe it just seemed that way because Amber was beginning to become slightly irritated herself.
"It is where the Omni Morpher are being kept," came his answer.
As she stood up to follow Cecil, who was already rushing toward the door to his office, Amber could not help but feel there was something intensely coincidental, even suspicious, about all of this. Forty-eight hours ago, she was teaching a group of second grade children, and now all of a sudden Cecil had returned, monsters were attacking, and they just happened to be at the place where the Morphers were being kept.
"What's wrong?" whispered Brittany.
"There's something very wrong about this whole situation." Reaching up to touch the two coins hanging off her necklace, Amber was somewhat but not completely relieved by the familiar coolness against her skin they created. As they gathered together and began following their old friend, she could tell from the skylights that it was beginning to rain outside. And like the rain against the slopes of Mount Attaviros, Amber could feel her trust in Cecil Mercuric falling.
Sometimes it begins in a hotel room, a single picture window facing west towards the Sea of Crete and, beyond that, the Mediterranean, a steady series of raindrops splashing and plopping against the glass to make the entire view watery and distorted. Every light in the room was on, even the bathroom light, despite the fact that even with the weather outside there was still enough sunlight to see by. The air conditioner was running continuously, making the entire place much cooler than what it must have been beyond that wet window.
She sat curled on the bed, staring outside. The television was on, tuned to the international CNN channel, and they were reporting on the American elections for what must have been the hundredth time today. At the same time, a radio softly broadcasting Beethoven's ninth symphony was playing on the nightstand. The drawer of the hotel's dresser was still open and, contained inside, the complimentary Bible had been desecrated, all thousand pages ripped out one by one and crumpled up, until only a shriveled bookcover remained intact. Similarly, the beautiful portrait hanging above the bed, a scene showing a young boy and girl holding hands in a field of roses, had been cracked and defaced with red permanent marker.
The only other items out of place were sitting on the table. There was a compact disc in a jewel case, labeled simply with a piece of masking tape and the same red marker, the single word "Air" in block letters. Next to the CD sat a vial of blood, fairly old from its appearance, with the word "Fire" scribbled sloppily along the side. Finally, a little distance away resting a package of hundreds of papers, tied all together with a thin rope, the word "Ice" written neatly in the upper right corner of the top sheet.
At last, it appeared. Coming toward the island slowly, it was a sight that made her heart beat with a fierce excitement. It was the shadow of a giant, born of Earth itself, twice or even three times the size of those pathetic pseudoine-created giant monsters Arcanza used years ago. Hanging above the approaching giant was the dropping sun, slightly covered by swirling grayish rainclouds.
"Mulac, the first of the four Legendary Jotuns, is finally awake," Krista said to herself, standing up to stretch her legs. She was still a tiny bit stiff from her airplane trip. "He should keep the Power Rangers occupied long enough for us to get back to Neo Twilight City, hopefully."
Krista caught a quick glance of herself in the mirror and, as always, shook her head in contempt of her simple looks and aura of unimportance. Irritated past the point of no return, she balled her hand into a fist and punched it. Pieces of shattered mirror fell to the ground following a loud crash, dropping lifelessly to the carpeted floor below. Her right hand started to bleed until, suddenly and instantly, the cuts healed themselves, the blood vanished, and her hand appeared as perfect as it was ten seconds ago.
She glided over to the door to the hotel room closet and opened it, checking on what she was keeping inside it. Kneeling down, she continued talking aloud absently. "We'll catch a plane back to the States soon. Just think positive thoughts until then, okay? Oh, by the way, are your accommodations comfortable, Doctor?" Sitting on the floor of the closest, his hands tied behind his back and his legs tied together with a thick rope preventing any movement at all, a gag tightly stuffed into his mouth, famed geneticist and cutting-edge researcher Ronald Cain glared at Krista with an icy, poisonous stare that made her giggle happily to herself. "Good," she mocked, "save your strength. You'll need it to help me destroy the Power Rangers, break the final Seal, and blow this sad, pathetic little world to hell."
Sometimes it begins just when you thought it was all over.
Original Publication Date: 24 December 2004
