Cosmic [6/6]
didn't think it would happen, did you? it's okay. with all the setbacks we didn't think it would either. but it has. Cosmic is complete!
Notes:
. . . Judus Jach's design is based off of Efren Ramirez as he appeared in the Crank movies.
. . . More tales of The Realm of Eyalus will be out this year -- hopefully. we may move to another Realm.
. . . the next installment specifically involving Judus Jach and his crew is tentatively called The Stuff of Legends.
. . . thanks for reading and your comments!
Previously in Cosmic: Prologue, Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5
Cosmic © 2009 property of Kenen and E. Entity. Do not repost. Do not repost and claim as your own. Do read. Do enjoy. Do comment.
Chapter 6
“You know what, Leonard -- you may be considered attractive now,” Agatha remarked upon Leonard opening the doorway of his house. Agatha was their ride to the Sexton’s. “Not to me,” she amended upon seeing the incredulous look he shot her, “but to somebody.” It was a much a compliment as he could get from Agatha. She peered at him and snorted in the way Leonard knew meant she was miffed about something. “You told me you wouldn’t get contact lenses.”
“Alan talked me into it,” Leonard answered. It was not quite a lie and Agatha’s temper was easily mollified by Alinon.
At the mention of him, she raised her head to look past Leonard and see Alinon crossing the foyer instead of hovering in the background as he had been. “You,” she said, “look awesome by the way.”
“Thanks.” He nudged Leonard with his elbow. “Awesome,” he repeated as though the human hadn’t heard. Leonard had yet to add to the consensus concerning his looks. Alinon thought it was because Leonard couldn’t see the illusion of gold human skin, platinum-blond hair, and eyes more honey gold and comparable to a hue found on Earth than to sunlight streaming through Vai’s Sigh.
His human said nothing, not even a thought toward him. There were, however, many thoughts of Jennifer Sexton. Anxiety. Frayed invite in right hand pants pocket, so that his left wouldn’t be encumbered with fiddling with the envelope. It annoyed Alinon, that. He was actually looking forward to meeting her, this being who effortlessly captivated his mate’s attention.
“You look decent,” Leonard remarked and Alinon would have replied with a cool ‘thank you’; affecting Leonard’s been there, done that attitude. Never letting him know how pleased he was to finally be acknowledged.
But Leonard had been talking to Agatha, who made a face that said, ‘Of course, how could you expect anything less?’ She said nothing about her simple-yet-elegant, off-the-shoulder, black velvet dress. Her make-up was as it had been the other day only in silvers and blues that made her purple contact lenses stand out more. Her hair had been curled. “Ready?”
~ . ~
Riding through the neighborhood, Alinon was able to see Christmas explained in colorful lights and ribbons and Leo’s easily plundered thoughts. He got a very clear understanding of Santa and his reindeer, presents, and dressing up trees. He also got an overview of Wisemen, important stars, angels and Jesus. He could only marvel at how the two contradictory beliefs could coexist for one holiday.
Jennifer Sexton met them at the door. Burnished blonde hair swept into a simple coiffure. Glasses in a case somewhere in favor of contact lenses, fingers usually stubby from a propensity to bite her nails, manicured. Her dress, Leonard noted, was of the variety that made her chest look flat, but her hips and ass fabulous and round in contrast. She wore dependable open-toe flats with fake fluff material on the tops matching the hem of her dress.
She seemed inordinately pleased. "Hi Leonard. Hi Agatha, glad you could make it." She accepted the invitations and placed them in a bin by the door. They were to be recycled for the Christmas Lottery to be drawn later in the evening. The Sexton's were firm believers in the 'Go Green' philosophy. "I'm sorry," she said when she came to Alinon, "I don't know your name."
"My cousin," Agatha offered magnanimously. "Alan Gallagher." The irony here was that Agatha really did have a cousin by that name within driving distance. Nobody knew what that cousin looked like, and as long as nobody described Alinon afterward, Agatha hadn’t seen a problem with her plan.
"Oh," Jennifer replied, a small circle forming her generous glistening lips, she'd used Chap Stick over lipstick. "Well, we definitely need to make an invitation for him so he can take part in the drawing." She appeared reluctant to leave, steps halting, but she offered a smile and promised to be 'right back'.
"Well," Agatha sighed, "Alan, do you dance?"
Alan shot a look toward Leonard, eyebrow-antenna quirked.
"Looking at me for? Go," Leonard urged as he thought of dancing he'd seen on good TV shows so Alan wouldn't do anything . . . Alien, but couldn't get too wrong.
The Sextons’s theme leaned more toward the fictional rather than religious. Mary was dressed up as a very sexy, hardly menopausal, very pregnant Mrs. Claus. Mr. Sexton, usually a striking, broad-shouldered, fitness fanatic had added stuffing to the belly of his Santa suit and ran long artificially tanned fingers though his fake fluffy beard. The music was in good taste, festive, and inoffensive, with a beat that kept the faithful on the cleared out living and dining room makeshift, dance floor. Above each entrance, and window was a garland of white flowers and Christmas lights, the chandeliers' light settings on low. Cozy, Leonard decided. There was a tree appropriately decorated in lights and ornaments, a slew of presents underneath, which Leonard could only deduce was for the lottery.
"Leonard, there you are," Jennifer squeezed his arm when she found him. Her breath came short.
"Um. Yeah. Your party is really cool," the boy commented.
"My Mom really loves doing this kind of stuff. I think she likes living vicariously through me or something," Jennifer replied.
Leonard couldn't help snickering. Jennifer smiled, displaying perfect teeth straightened by years of braces. "I, uh, didn't think you'd come. I mean even Agatha never comes."
"Agatha usually hangs out with me," Leonard offered by way of explanation.
"Oh. I guess I should have invited you sooner." She looked upset. "It's just I wanted to but . . ."
"It's okay," Leonard stated even as his over-processed brain latched on to thoughts of the invite he'd worried to shreds. His name, Leonard Dukakis, written in Jennifer's fancy scrawl had already been in the RSVP. Sometimes even a genius could be a little dense.
"So, where's your boyfriend?"
"He," Jennifer began, "We . . ." but she was drowned out.
"Go Alan! GO ALAN!"
They turned simultaneously to the dance floor to see Alan stealing the veritable spotlight. Even Agatha had stopped dancing with him to join the crowd chanting his name.
Alinon looked up then, as though sensing Leonard’s attention turned to him, honey gold eyes met alien repaired blue ones. He lifted a hand and beckoned. Damn it. Alinon was singling him out. And then Leonard noticed that the hand didn’t look the same as the other. It was freakish, alien blue -- but all of Alinon should have been blue. Instead, for some reason, Leonard’s new eyes could see Alinon as everyone else did. Human. With proper eyebrows instead of antenna. Akin to a surfer, with golden skin, and long, straight, sun-bleached platinum hair.
But the hand was blue. Which could only mean Alinon was losing control of the illusion and needed Leonard to dance with him. Touch him. Feed him.
Leonard sighed in a resigned manner and moved into the small circle cleared for Alinon to behave as a host should for his parasite. He was surprised at how well they flowed together. He was in shock that the horrid children he’d gone to school with were now cheering his name. Disturbed that after the song ended, Alan threw a companionable arm around his shoulders as though they were the best of mates -- read friends -- and presented him in a whole new light. He was the not nerd who could dance, and had cool friends. Someone Jennifer Sexton had invited to her party, who had two eyebrows and looked as smart as they knew him to be even with cosmic blue contacts. He would be mistaken as one of them now; Leonard recoiled internally at the thought.
"Dude, Leonard, that was sick!"
"Leonard, is it true you learned to fight with swords?"
"Wow, that's like, so barbarically awesome . . ."
Great. Now these amateurs would start showing up to fencing matches, Leonard groaned. The school would be ecstatic to have another money-making sport, but he couldn't find pleasure in that. Fencing was his thing. Fencing was the one sport his humongous brain and the ultra petite body he'd inherited from his mother could both handle. Fencing was about you and your opponent moving in a deadly dance toward victory -- or just a shocking. He didn't want them there.
"Alan, you never said you knew Leonard," a voice accused, it sounded vaguely like a cheerleader who regularly snubbed him.
"Uh, yeah," the alien responded with just enough disdain to hint that she were somehow deficient because she didn't hang with Leonard. The arm around his shoulders tightened momentarily. "Leo is the coolest guy I know."
The dreaded nickname spread like wildfire to Leonard's dismay.
"Leo, do you want to dance with me?"
"Excuse you. Leo is dancing with me!"
Too much, Leonard thought. Too much. Alan had undone years of genius-induced solitude in the course of three minutes. He had to think quickly on how he would fix this. Put everyone back in to proper place and perspective.
Jennifer Sexton stepped in.
With a sweet smile on her full lips, she politely excused him with a "Sorry, I need to borrow Leonard for awhile, promise to return him."
She’d said Leonard, the boy mentally melted. Bless her. And he went willingly.
"Did you know you cringe every time someone calls you Leo?" Jennifer asked when they'd reached a secluded corner of her kitchen. The music had started back up again and the crowd, faithful sheep, swayed to its beat. Alan and Agatha not exceptions.
Leonard grimaced, "Doesn't surprise me," he remarked offhandedly. "Alan came up with that upon sight of me."
Jennifer laughed softly. "There's nothing wrong with Leonard. It's a very solid name. It suits you."
Leonard smiled, "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Leonard had never seen her so ruffled. "I have a question -- just tell me if I'm dead wrong. I'll be alright with it, but . . ." She took a deep breath. "You-You do -- Are you -- You are interested in me, aren't you?"
For a second that felt like eternity, Leonard couldn't breathe, couldn't think, no longer cared if he expired on the spot. For one second he wanted to savor achieving everything he'd ever wanted in life. She -- Jennifer Sexton -- liked him. Genuinely. Liked his name. Hadn't been repulsed by the unibrow or put off by his intelligence. She wasn't ashamed of being seen with him, though they were undoubtedly mismatched with their heights so grossly in reverse the way they were. Jennifer Sexton, girl of his dreams had been dreaming of him too.
Just as quickly as the exultation filled him came the emptiness of defeat. All he wanted, more than anything, more than the death of his dread nickname, more than another hit of Vai's Breath, was to hold her in his arms and assure her that he was and had always been completely in love with her. But he couldn't do that, because he would not do that to her. Because there was an Alinon.
He couldn't give her all of himself like she deserved; at least not before he figured out a way to save Alinon without his physical presence required -- Leonard couldn't just leave the alien to die. Jennifer Sexton was a beautiful girl, the most beautiful he'd ever seen. She'd be alright.
"Of course I'm interested," he answered and selfishly watched her smile return -- a smile for him; he swore he would only take the one. "I mean, I've always considered us friends, though I didn't think I'd made much of an impression on you." Leonard ducked his head in a self deprecating move. It would have looked better if he still wore glasses, he thought, if his hair hadn’t been slicked back and he could have hid his eyes with his curls. Still, he didn't see her smile falter, but he heard it in her voice.
"Oh. Right. I guess I haven't been much of a friend." Leonard looked up to see Jennifer biting her lip, looking away, eyes troubled. She radiated remorse. But then, right before his eyes she seemed to fortify her resolve. "Well, we still have one more semester . . ."
"I took early graduation," Leonard sheepishly admitted. Tonight had merely settled the decision. Between his newfound popularity and Jennifer Sexton, and a dying alien, High School seemed inconsequential.
"Wow, Leonard," she shook her head incredulously, "did nobody make you feel welcome?"
"Well, between your friends, your boyfriend . . ."
"We're not together anymore," she interjected.
"And all my credits." A pause. A mental swallow of the bile in his brain -- that traitorous thought that said 'Forget Alinon, he was already dead when he found you. It wouldn't be your fault.' He choked on it. "I'm glad you broke up with Curtis. I always thought you deserved better."
Leonard thought donating bone marrow without anesthesia would be less agony.
Jennifer began to say more but Alinon beat her to it, threw a companionable arm around his shoulders again. For once Leonard was grateful. Hopeful.
Maybe someday when Alinon is better . . .
"There you are, Leo, everyone is waiting for you." The alien offered a smile to their hostess, "Awesome party by the way."
"T-Thank you," said Jennifer, always polite.
"I'll catch up with you later, Jennifer," Leonard promised.
But he didn't.
~ . ~
Dance, food, and partied out, the three returned to Leonard’s house in high spirits -- although Leonard’s was forced. Alan had won a PSP and Agatha, a karaoke machine from the lottery. They glowed at having been so lucky.
Leonard didn’t speak to Jennifer again that night; though not completely contrived on his part. It was mostly the fault of his newfound popularity, Alinon clinging to him, Agatha thriving on all the attention as Leonard’s oldest and closest friend, and Jennifer’s responsibilities as hostess. He supposed he could call her in a few days. That didn’t seem like cheating on his promise.
“Leo,” Agatha began.
The human male growled. “Not you too!”
For a moment it appeared Agatha would argue -- as usual when she wasn’t likely to get her way. Instead she shrugged and held her peace. “Fine. Leonard, it’s been real, but I’m going home.”
"It's late Agatha, you're not going to stay?"
"Uh, no. One boy who my parents believe I can beat up is fine, but two? No, seems like less of an argument to just go home." She paused on the doorstep. "Y'know, Leonard, I always thought you were clever and ingenious, but tonight,” she smiled whimsically, “tonight, you took it to a whole new level." She returned to her car and was gone before Leonard could say anything. A compliment from Agatha that wasn’t somehow disparaging -- Leonard didn’t know what to think.
Alinon -- human skin already shed for the night -- slouched on the couch. A blue hand patted the cushion beside him, but Leonard shook his head negatively. "Not yet, and quit breathing so loud." He didn't feel like being pawed by an alien, not while he was so irritable. The answering machine was blinking a bold 3 in digital red. He pressed the play button.
"Hey baby, you know I just felt so bad about leaving you all this time. It's the holidays, right, and I miss my brilliant little man. Your father says he does too. We're on our way to the airport now. I'll call you before we take off. Baby, I have no idea where you're at, but I hope you're having a lot of fun. Love you."
Beep.
He expected the second one to be his mother confirming they'd made it to the airport, and were now comfortably seated on the plane awaiting take off. So he frowned when he heard his mother's voice. "Hey, baby, we're almost to the airport - wow, traffic is so bad here. I'm so proud of you. Whoever is dragging you out of your shell, I definitely want to meet them cause I know its not just Agatha. Love --" There was a horrible screeching sound, the squeal of tires, glass breaking, metal crushing, his mother's scream, his father's shout.
Beep.
Then a mechanical voice reciting, "Next unheard message."
"Leonard, this is your Aunt Matilda," this voice struggled for control. "Leonard, you have to call me back. There's been an accident. Your parents," she gulped, fought valiantly for composure, but lost. She cried.
Beep.
Vaguely, Leonard felt arms wrap around him. Heard whispers. "It is okay, cry as much as you need."
He didn't know if he were crying or not. He didn't fell like his heart was beating or his eyelids blinking. He couldn't feel that he was breathing. But it sounded as though he was, gentle, rhythmic inhalations and exhalations, calm but noisy. Too calm for his turmoil. Too amplified to be peaceful.
"Why are you breathing so loud?" Leonard demanded, but it was no more than a whisper.
"I'm not, Leo-Leonard," Alinon replied after a moment of confusion.
A light clicked on after a few seconds of mental fumbling for the switch in Leonard's grief stricken brain. The transmitter. For it to be that loud, as though it were filling the house would mean Alinon's ride was close. Even so, he stayed in the alien's blue arms and took the comfort offered. Stored it as though he were a battery charging. He would grieve properly later; right now he had a promise to fulfill.
"Come on," he told the alien, "help me get the transmitter."
"We're going out to the crash site?" Alinon queried. Leonard was already across the room breaking the picture of his family out of the frame in the foyer and rolling it into his pocket.
Alien blue eyes met alien gold briefly. "Yeah. We can't leave any bit behind."
In the kitchen, Leonard grabbed double D batteries from a cabinet and pushed 2 into the back of the stereo player.
Carefully carrying the converted transmitter out to the site took half an hour. Alinon opened the space skiff and Leonard jury rigged the creation to the craft. Whatever residual power it used was more than enough for the stereo even in it's broken state. Alinon climbed into the pilot seat and Leonard curled into the little spot behind it.
And they waited.
"Your parents, they . . ." Alinon began after an uncomfortable interval.
"They're dead," Leonard confirmed.
"But how do you know?"
"Because of my Aunt. I've never liked her. She's always been a real solid, emotionless bitch my whole life. If they were alive she would have said. She would have been herself. She wasn't. She cried."
Alinon marveled, impressed despite the situation. "Do you ever think sometimes you're too smart?"
"Sometimes," Leonard agreed. "And sometimes I wish I wasn't. Like now. Now would be a good time to be stupid and hopeful."
"You're going with me." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah."
"Thank you."
Leonard shrugged though Alinon couldn't see it. It wasn't so much what he was going to, but what he was running from.
"Do you know why Judus Jach is the most feared Sigh Surfer in the galaxy?" Alinon interjected into the melancholy that had filled the little cabin. Leonard could tell that the awe in Alinon's voice wasn't affected. Alinon truly did idolize Judus Jach no matter that the pirate had exiled him to Earth.
Leonard hadn't met him yet, but already he could feel life aboard the Surfer's ship was going to be interesting. Not caring to burden Alinon with his grief he made an effort to be cheerful. "Uh . . ." Leonard automatically put a finger to the bridge of his nose to push up glasses that were no longer there. "He has his own theme song?”
Alinon frowned at his attempt at levity “No.” But then Leonard could hear the sound of saliva sliding over teeth as golden lips parted in a smile. “Okay that was funny, but no.” There was a pause and then a reverent whisper, “Jach’s ship has a Vailuable Inhabitant.”
“Okay,” Leonard snorted unimpressed, “I’m supposed to know what that is?”
He imagined he could see a tea kettle boiling to whistle in the alien’s mind as Alinon thought. “Hm. Well. Do you think maybe space, as you call it, can have a memory?”
“I guess,” Leonard hedged. He couldn’t say he was at liberty to decide what was or was not possible lately. Definitely not as he sat in the back of a crashed UFO.
“Vailuable Inhabitants are a bit like that. Only they are memory made alive. Sometimes those living memories belong to a thing. Something like a room, or a doll, or Jach’s ship. It rules there. It lets Jach be leader there, it is . . . glued with him.”
“So, basically,” Leonard responded after a minute puzzling out Alinon’s broken English, “Judus Jach is so feared because he’s being stalked by a poltergeist.”
“You take all the glamour out of it,” Alinon pouted. “But you are not wrong. You just don’t understand how huge Merrec choosing Jach is. Can you imagine something big and strong always protecting you, only loves you, would do anything for you, ‘stalking’ as you say? Vai’s Sigh is not a place of peace, Leonard.”
“I think I get it,” the human replied after some more thought.
They were quiet again, but it didn’t last as long as the first time. “You know, Leo-Leonard,” Alinon said his name as though it was distasteful, the human could hear it in his voice, though he did appreciate Alinon being mindful of his feelings for a change. “The people on board Jach’s ship, they come from all over, and nobody really knows why they choose to be Surfers.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
A sigh. “Just, you do not have to be you.”
The transmitter fizzled to life before Leonard could ask for Alinon to expound on what he was saying. Judus Jach’s authoritative voice filled the little cabin over Merrec’s breathing. And though he had never heard it before, and he had no idea what was being said, Leonard knew that voice.
“Alright, let’s hear it,” the Surfer stated.
Alinon rolled his eyes at the transmitter because he knew Jach couldn’t see. He wouldn’t have otherwise. Technically, Alinon really wanted argue, he didn’t owe the Surfer anything. But that was neither here nor there, and wouldn’t get him off Earth burning through the new life Leonard was giving him with the near constant ‘Alan’ charade.
“I’m sorry,” the blue-skinned alien muttered. Damned if Jach thought he would get anymore from him. His offering was deemed sufficient, however, and the ship began a steady climb into the heavens.
“Alinon, it occurs to me, and it may be a moot point anyway . . .” Leonard anxiously whispered. Alinon twisted in his seat, eyes instantly turned to him.
“What’s wrong?” the alien whispered back; loathe to warn Jach he was bringing a guest.
“Will I be able to breathe?”
The alien blinked at him. “Of course. You have Breathed Vai’s Breath before.”
Of course, the human thought. The reason ‘Earthians’, as Alinon called the people of his planet, couldn’t explore outer space and survive without the astronaut get-up was because what they considered non-air was merely an alien form of gas from a Mother goddess they didn’t believe in. “Right,” he whispered, more to himself than Alinon.
Twenty minutes later, Leonard felt something snap hold of the vessel and heard an indistinctive yelling that could have been ‘Heave!’ said in time to the rocking of the craft. A minute of two later, there was a slight jostle under his feet, and then stillness.
“Scratch Merrec’s deck and I will use the skin from your hides to fill in the holes!” That was Jach, Leonard thought, and wished he could understand what was being said.
The spacecraft’s lid slid open.
It was already morning in space. Leonard Breathed deeply just to prove he could. The sun was so bright, so close, so warm, but didn’t burn his skin. He shaded his eyes with his arm and could just make out Alinon’s silhouette beside someone else’s. Judus Jach.
~ . ~
“Who is that?” Jach asked, slight frown marring his brow.
“My mate,” Alinon answered with a flourish in Leonard’s direction.
The eyes were shrewd -- they were always calculating -- but the frown turned in to a smile that was less feral than usual and could even be termed happy. “Go on and say it,” the Surfer baited, smirking and expectant.
Alinon glowered, but he didn’t put it past Jach to ‘un-rescue’ him faster than he’d been brought aboard. “Leaving me on Earth wasn’t a complete disaster.” Alinon pouted. Those were so not the words he would have chosen to say. Technically, it was all coincidence, but Jach would take credit, because that was Jach’s way.
“Exactly.” Jach raised his voice to a crewmember. A thin creature, whose off-the-shoulder blouse reminded Alinon of Agatha, he knew his name was Simov. “Bring him over here, and tell Cook to expect one more for meals.”
The Sylph bowed his obedience and Alinon watched as Simov led Leonard from the craft.
~ . ~
He understood that Alinon was making introductions. The man, not much taller than him, mocha skinned, hair black and a hundred times curlier than his own in a thick plat down his back, renegade tendrils flying free at every turn. The face leaned toward masculine around the jaw, but he could be considered androgynous. Short, muscular, he wore a khaki hued duster with no sleeves, with a long-sleeved shirt and black pants of a durable material tucked into black boots that someone had shined all the buckles on. Leonard thought someone because Judus Jach didn't strike him as the type to do that chore by himself -- there were a lot of buckles. There was a sword across his back and another at his hip, both their hilts within easy reach, though Jach didn't strike him as the type to use two swords at once either.
But that was what a person noticed about Judus Jach; the air of apparent danger and that Hell was frozen.
One came to the mortal conviction that Hell was cold. Hell was infinite torture, pain, and remorse. A house of all things irredeemable. It was crystallized, chartreuse portals of agony. It was ice. Hell could be found in Judus Jach's eyes. The Surfer was well named.
He seemed to recall the power his eyes held and glanced to the side, a welcome reprieve, rueful smile on his well-sculpted lips. He spoke to Alinon, a command, and the alien -- his alien -- was scrambling to the Captain's side and whispering in his ear.
When Jach spoke again it was in broken English, accent heavy yet understandable. "Hiyam Capitan Judus Jach. Dis is de crew of the Murry Det," he gestured with impeccably toned arms to the ship and its inhabitants. "You sail wi me, I wull pratek you til I die." the Surfer offered his arm to Leonard after some prompting on Alinon's part. Leonard pieced together that Alinon was likely the ship's interpreter. His ability to get inside an entity's head and not only learn a language, but see it in proper context had to come in handy when traversing solar systems.
He didn't know if he would become as invaluable aboard the Merry Death, but Leonard did know that he could try. What Alinon had said before was true. He didn't have to be Leonard Dukakis anymore. That was a person with fluffy curls, a half blind, one eye-browed geek who people ridiculed, a boy who had given up on attaining the girl of his dreams and had heard his parents die.
He extended his hand. Right now he was a Human being amongst aliens who had no idea about any of that, with tamed hair, groomed brows and eyes that could only be described as . . .
"Cosmic," he greeted Judus Jach, firmly grasping the Captain's hand. "Leo Cosmic."
Alinon's pleased grin barely registered in light of the Surfer's smile, ice eyes squinted to keep the strain they produced from his new charge. When he spoke an answering smirk settled on Leonard's lips. He couldn't understand the language, but he got the gist of it.
"Leo Cosmic, welcome aboard."
*points down* and do not laugh at my girly choice of music.
Notes:
. . . Judus Jach's design is based off of Efren Ramirez as he appeared in the Crank movies.
. . . More tales of The Realm of Eyalus will be out this year -- hopefully. we may move to another Realm.
. . . the next installment specifically involving Judus Jach and his crew is tentatively called The Stuff of Legends.
. . . thanks for reading and your comments!
Previously in Cosmic: Prologue, Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5
Cosmic © 2009 property of Kenen and E. Entity. Do not repost. Do not repost and claim as your own. Do read. Do enjoy. Do comment.
Chapter 6
“You know what, Leonard -- you may be considered attractive now,” Agatha remarked upon Leonard opening the doorway of his house. Agatha was their ride to the Sexton’s. “Not to me,” she amended upon seeing the incredulous look he shot her, “but to somebody.” It was a much a compliment as he could get from Agatha. She peered at him and snorted in the way Leonard knew meant she was miffed about something. “You told me you wouldn’t get contact lenses.”
“Alan talked me into it,” Leonard answered. It was not quite a lie and Agatha’s temper was easily mollified by Alinon.
At the mention of him, she raised her head to look past Leonard and see Alinon crossing the foyer instead of hovering in the background as he had been. “You,” she said, “look awesome by the way.”
“Thanks.” He nudged Leonard with his elbow. “Awesome,” he repeated as though the human hadn’t heard. Leonard had yet to add to the consensus concerning his looks. Alinon thought it was because Leonard couldn’t see the illusion of gold human skin, platinum-blond hair, and eyes more honey gold and comparable to a hue found on Earth than to sunlight streaming through Vai’s Sigh.
His human said nothing, not even a thought toward him. There were, however, many thoughts of Jennifer Sexton. Anxiety. Frayed invite in right hand pants pocket, so that his left wouldn’t be encumbered with fiddling with the envelope. It annoyed Alinon, that. He was actually looking forward to meeting her, this being who effortlessly captivated his mate’s attention.
“You look decent,” Leonard remarked and Alinon would have replied with a cool ‘thank you’; affecting Leonard’s been there, done that attitude. Never letting him know how pleased he was to finally be acknowledged.
But Leonard had been talking to Agatha, who made a face that said, ‘Of course, how could you expect anything less?’ She said nothing about her simple-yet-elegant, off-the-shoulder, black velvet dress. Her make-up was as it had been the other day only in silvers and blues that made her purple contact lenses stand out more. Her hair had been curled. “Ready?”
~ . ~
Riding through the neighborhood, Alinon was able to see Christmas explained in colorful lights and ribbons and Leo’s easily plundered thoughts. He got a very clear understanding of Santa and his reindeer, presents, and dressing up trees. He also got an overview of Wisemen, important stars, angels and Jesus. He could only marvel at how the two contradictory beliefs could coexist for one holiday.
Jennifer Sexton met them at the door. Burnished blonde hair swept into a simple coiffure. Glasses in a case somewhere in favor of contact lenses, fingers usually stubby from a propensity to bite her nails, manicured. Her dress, Leonard noted, was of the variety that made her chest look flat, but her hips and ass fabulous and round in contrast. She wore dependable open-toe flats with fake fluff material on the tops matching the hem of her dress.
She seemed inordinately pleased. "Hi Leonard. Hi Agatha, glad you could make it." She accepted the invitations and placed them in a bin by the door. They were to be recycled for the Christmas Lottery to be drawn later in the evening. The Sexton's were firm believers in the 'Go Green' philosophy. "I'm sorry," she said when she came to Alinon, "I don't know your name."
"My cousin," Agatha offered magnanimously. "Alan Gallagher." The irony here was that Agatha really did have a cousin by that name within driving distance. Nobody knew what that cousin looked like, and as long as nobody described Alinon afterward, Agatha hadn’t seen a problem with her plan.
"Oh," Jennifer replied, a small circle forming her generous glistening lips, she'd used Chap Stick over lipstick. "Well, we definitely need to make an invitation for him so he can take part in the drawing." She appeared reluctant to leave, steps halting, but she offered a smile and promised to be 'right back'.
"Well," Agatha sighed, "Alan, do you dance?"
Alan shot a look toward Leonard, eyebrow-antenna quirked.
"Looking at me for? Go," Leonard urged as he thought of dancing he'd seen on good TV shows so Alan wouldn't do anything . . . Alien, but couldn't get too wrong.
The Sextons’s theme leaned more toward the fictional rather than religious. Mary was dressed up as a very sexy, hardly menopausal, very pregnant Mrs. Claus. Mr. Sexton, usually a striking, broad-shouldered, fitness fanatic had added stuffing to the belly of his Santa suit and ran long artificially tanned fingers though his fake fluffy beard. The music was in good taste, festive, and inoffensive, with a beat that kept the faithful on the cleared out living and dining room makeshift, dance floor. Above each entrance, and window was a garland of white flowers and Christmas lights, the chandeliers' light settings on low. Cozy, Leonard decided. There was a tree appropriately decorated in lights and ornaments, a slew of presents underneath, which Leonard could only deduce was for the lottery.
"Leonard, there you are," Jennifer squeezed his arm when she found him. Her breath came short.
"Um. Yeah. Your party is really cool," the boy commented.
"My Mom really loves doing this kind of stuff. I think she likes living vicariously through me or something," Jennifer replied.
Leonard couldn't help snickering. Jennifer smiled, displaying perfect teeth straightened by years of braces. "I, uh, didn't think you'd come. I mean even Agatha never comes."
"Agatha usually hangs out with me," Leonard offered by way of explanation.
"Oh. I guess I should have invited you sooner." She looked upset. "It's just I wanted to but . . ."
"It's okay," Leonard stated even as his over-processed brain latched on to thoughts of the invite he'd worried to shreds. His name, Leonard Dukakis, written in Jennifer's fancy scrawl had already been in the RSVP. Sometimes even a genius could be a little dense.
"So, where's your boyfriend?"
"He," Jennifer began, "We . . ." but she was drowned out.
"Go Alan! GO ALAN!"
They turned simultaneously to the dance floor to see Alan stealing the veritable spotlight. Even Agatha had stopped dancing with him to join the crowd chanting his name.
Alinon looked up then, as though sensing Leonard’s attention turned to him, honey gold eyes met alien repaired blue ones. He lifted a hand and beckoned. Damn it. Alinon was singling him out. And then Leonard noticed that the hand didn’t look the same as the other. It was freakish, alien blue -- but all of Alinon should have been blue. Instead, for some reason, Leonard’s new eyes could see Alinon as everyone else did. Human. With proper eyebrows instead of antenna. Akin to a surfer, with golden skin, and long, straight, sun-bleached platinum hair.
But the hand was blue. Which could only mean Alinon was losing control of the illusion and needed Leonard to dance with him. Touch him. Feed him.
Leonard sighed in a resigned manner and moved into the small circle cleared for Alinon to behave as a host should for his parasite. He was surprised at how well they flowed together. He was in shock that the horrid children he’d gone to school with were now cheering his name. Disturbed that after the song ended, Alan threw a companionable arm around his shoulders as though they were the best of mates -- read friends -- and presented him in a whole new light. He was the not nerd who could dance, and had cool friends. Someone Jennifer Sexton had invited to her party, who had two eyebrows and looked as smart as they knew him to be even with cosmic blue contacts. He would be mistaken as one of them now; Leonard recoiled internally at the thought.
"Dude, Leonard, that was sick!"
"Leonard, is it true you learned to fight with swords?"
"Wow, that's like, so barbarically awesome . . ."
Great. Now these amateurs would start showing up to fencing matches, Leonard groaned. The school would be ecstatic to have another money-making sport, but he couldn't find pleasure in that. Fencing was his thing. Fencing was the one sport his humongous brain and the ultra petite body he'd inherited from his mother could both handle. Fencing was about you and your opponent moving in a deadly dance toward victory -- or just a shocking. He didn't want them there.
"Alan, you never said you knew Leonard," a voice accused, it sounded vaguely like a cheerleader who regularly snubbed him.
"Uh, yeah," the alien responded with just enough disdain to hint that she were somehow deficient because she didn't hang with Leonard. The arm around his shoulders tightened momentarily. "Leo is the coolest guy I know."
The dreaded nickname spread like wildfire to Leonard's dismay.
"Leo, do you want to dance with me?"
"Excuse you. Leo is dancing with me!"
Too much, Leonard thought. Too much. Alan had undone years of genius-induced solitude in the course of three minutes. He had to think quickly on how he would fix this. Put everyone back in to proper place and perspective.
Jennifer Sexton stepped in.
With a sweet smile on her full lips, she politely excused him with a "Sorry, I need to borrow Leonard for awhile, promise to return him."
She’d said Leonard, the boy mentally melted. Bless her. And he went willingly.
"Did you know you cringe every time someone calls you Leo?" Jennifer asked when they'd reached a secluded corner of her kitchen. The music had started back up again and the crowd, faithful sheep, swayed to its beat. Alan and Agatha not exceptions.
Leonard grimaced, "Doesn't surprise me," he remarked offhandedly. "Alan came up with that upon sight of me."
Jennifer laughed softly. "There's nothing wrong with Leonard. It's a very solid name. It suits you."
Leonard smiled, "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Leonard had never seen her so ruffled. "I have a question -- just tell me if I'm dead wrong. I'll be alright with it, but . . ." She took a deep breath. "You-You do -- Are you -- You are interested in me, aren't you?"
For a second that felt like eternity, Leonard couldn't breathe, couldn't think, no longer cared if he expired on the spot. For one second he wanted to savor achieving everything he'd ever wanted in life. She -- Jennifer Sexton -- liked him. Genuinely. Liked his name. Hadn't been repulsed by the unibrow or put off by his intelligence. She wasn't ashamed of being seen with him, though they were undoubtedly mismatched with their heights so grossly in reverse the way they were. Jennifer Sexton, girl of his dreams had been dreaming of him too.
Just as quickly as the exultation filled him came the emptiness of defeat. All he wanted, more than anything, more than the death of his dread nickname, more than another hit of Vai's Breath, was to hold her in his arms and assure her that he was and had always been completely in love with her. But he couldn't do that, because he would not do that to her. Because there was an Alinon.
He couldn't give her all of himself like she deserved; at least not before he figured out a way to save Alinon without his physical presence required -- Leonard couldn't just leave the alien to die. Jennifer Sexton was a beautiful girl, the most beautiful he'd ever seen. She'd be alright.
"Of course I'm interested," he answered and selfishly watched her smile return -- a smile for him; he swore he would only take the one. "I mean, I've always considered us friends, though I didn't think I'd made much of an impression on you." Leonard ducked his head in a self deprecating move. It would have looked better if he still wore glasses, he thought, if his hair hadn’t been slicked back and he could have hid his eyes with his curls. Still, he didn't see her smile falter, but he heard it in her voice.
"Oh. Right. I guess I haven't been much of a friend." Leonard looked up to see Jennifer biting her lip, looking away, eyes troubled. She radiated remorse. But then, right before his eyes she seemed to fortify her resolve. "Well, we still have one more semester . . ."
"I took early graduation," Leonard sheepishly admitted. Tonight had merely settled the decision. Between his newfound popularity and Jennifer Sexton, and a dying alien, High School seemed inconsequential.
"Wow, Leonard," she shook her head incredulously, "did nobody make you feel welcome?"
"Well, between your friends, your boyfriend . . ."
"We're not together anymore," she interjected.
"And all my credits." A pause. A mental swallow of the bile in his brain -- that traitorous thought that said 'Forget Alinon, he was already dead when he found you. It wouldn't be your fault.' He choked on it. "I'm glad you broke up with Curtis. I always thought you deserved better."
Leonard thought donating bone marrow without anesthesia would be less agony.
Jennifer began to say more but Alinon beat her to it, threw a companionable arm around his shoulders again. For once Leonard was grateful. Hopeful.
Maybe someday when Alinon is better . . .
"There you are, Leo, everyone is waiting for you." The alien offered a smile to their hostess, "Awesome party by the way."
"T-Thank you," said Jennifer, always polite.
"I'll catch up with you later, Jennifer," Leonard promised.
But he didn't.
~ . ~
Dance, food, and partied out, the three returned to Leonard’s house in high spirits -- although Leonard’s was forced. Alan had won a PSP and Agatha, a karaoke machine from the lottery. They glowed at having been so lucky.
Leonard didn’t speak to Jennifer again that night; though not completely contrived on his part. It was mostly the fault of his newfound popularity, Alinon clinging to him, Agatha thriving on all the attention as Leonard’s oldest and closest friend, and Jennifer’s responsibilities as hostess. He supposed he could call her in a few days. That didn’t seem like cheating on his promise.
“Leo,” Agatha began.
The human male growled. “Not you too!”
For a moment it appeared Agatha would argue -- as usual when she wasn’t likely to get her way. Instead she shrugged and held her peace. “Fine. Leonard, it’s been real, but I’m going home.”
"It's late Agatha, you're not going to stay?"
"Uh, no. One boy who my parents believe I can beat up is fine, but two? No, seems like less of an argument to just go home." She paused on the doorstep. "Y'know, Leonard, I always thought you were clever and ingenious, but tonight,” she smiled whimsically, “tonight, you took it to a whole new level." She returned to her car and was gone before Leonard could say anything. A compliment from Agatha that wasn’t somehow disparaging -- Leonard didn’t know what to think.
Alinon -- human skin already shed for the night -- slouched on the couch. A blue hand patted the cushion beside him, but Leonard shook his head negatively. "Not yet, and quit breathing so loud." He didn't feel like being pawed by an alien, not while he was so irritable. The answering machine was blinking a bold 3 in digital red. He pressed the play button.
"Hey baby, you know I just felt so bad about leaving you all this time. It's the holidays, right, and I miss my brilliant little man. Your father says he does too. We're on our way to the airport now. I'll call you before we take off. Baby, I have no idea where you're at, but I hope you're having a lot of fun. Love you."
Beep.
He expected the second one to be his mother confirming they'd made it to the airport, and were now comfortably seated on the plane awaiting take off. So he frowned when he heard his mother's voice. "Hey, baby, we're almost to the airport - wow, traffic is so bad here. I'm so proud of you. Whoever is dragging you out of your shell, I definitely want to meet them cause I know its not just Agatha. Love --" There was a horrible screeching sound, the squeal of tires, glass breaking, metal crushing, his mother's scream, his father's shout.
Beep.
Then a mechanical voice reciting, "Next unheard message."
"Leonard, this is your Aunt Matilda," this voice struggled for control. "Leonard, you have to call me back. There's been an accident. Your parents," she gulped, fought valiantly for composure, but lost. She cried.
Beep.
Vaguely, Leonard felt arms wrap around him. Heard whispers. "It is okay, cry as much as you need."
He didn't know if he were crying or not. He didn't fell like his heart was beating or his eyelids blinking. He couldn't feel that he was breathing. But it sounded as though he was, gentle, rhythmic inhalations and exhalations, calm but noisy. Too calm for his turmoil. Too amplified to be peaceful.
"Why are you breathing so loud?" Leonard demanded, but it was no more than a whisper.
"I'm not, Leo-Leonard," Alinon replied after a moment of confusion.
A light clicked on after a few seconds of mental fumbling for the switch in Leonard's grief stricken brain. The transmitter. For it to be that loud, as though it were filling the house would mean Alinon's ride was close. Even so, he stayed in the alien's blue arms and took the comfort offered. Stored it as though he were a battery charging. He would grieve properly later; right now he had a promise to fulfill.
"Come on," he told the alien, "help me get the transmitter."
"We're going out to the crash site?" Alinon queried. Leonard was already across the room breaking the picture of his family out of the frame in the foyer and rolling it into his pocket.
Alien blue eyes met alien gold briefly. "Yeah. We can't leave any bit behind."
In the kitchen, Leonard grabbed double D batteries from a cabinet and pushed 2 into the back of the stereo player.
Carefully carrying the converted transmitter out to the site took half an hour. Alinon opened the space skiff and Leonard jury rigged the creation to the craft. Whatever residual power it used was more than enough for the stereo even in it's broken state. Alinon climbed into the pilot seat and Leonard curled into the little spot behind it.
And they waited.
"Your parents, they . . ." Alinon began after an uncomfortable interval.
"They're dead," Leonard confirmed.
"But how do you know?"
"Because of my Aunt. I've never liked her. She's always been a real solid, emotionless bitch my whole life. If they were alive she would have said. She would have been herself. She wasn't. She cried."
Alinon marveled, impressed despite the situation. "Do you ever think sometimes you're too smart?"
"Sometimes," Leonard agreed. "And sometimes I wish I wasn't. Like now. Now would be a good time to be stupid and hopeful."
"You're going with me." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah."
"Thank you."
Leonard shrugged though Alinon couldn't see it. It wasn't so much what he was going to, but what he was running from.
"Do you know why Judus Jach is the most feared Sigh Surfer in the galaxy?" Alinon interjected into the melancholy that had filled the little cabin. Leonard could tell that the awe in Alinon's voice wasn't affected. Alinon truly did idolize Judus Jach no matter that the pirate had exiled him to Earth.
Leonard hadn't met him yet, but already he could feel life aboard the Surfer's ship was going to be interesting. Not caring to burden Alinon with his grief he made an effort to be cheerful. "Uh . . ." Leonard automatically put a finger to the bridge of his nose to push up glasses that were no longer there. "He has his own theme song?”
Alinon frowned at his attempt at levity “No.” But then Leonard could hear the sound of saliva sliding over teeth as golden lips parted in a smile. “Okay that was funny, but no.” There was a pause and then a reverent whisper, “Jach’s ship has a Vailuable Inhabitant.”
“Okay,” Leonard snorted unimpressed, “I’m supposed to know what that is?”
He imagined he could see a tea kettle boiling to whistle in the alien’s mind as Alinon thought. “Hm. Well. Do you think maybe space, as you call it, can have a memory?”
“I guess,” Leonard hedged. He couldn’t say he was at liberty to decide what was or was not possible lately. Definitely not as he sat in the back of a crashed UFO.
“Vailuable Inhabitants are a bit like that. Only they are memory made alive. Sometimes those living memories belong to a thing. Something like a room, or a doll, or Jach’s ship. It rules there. It lets Jach be leader there, it is . . . glued with him.”
“So, basically,” Leonard responded after a minute puzzling out Alinon’s broken English, “Judus Jach is so feared because he’s being stalked by a poltergeist.”
“You take all the glamour out of it,” Alinon pouted. “But you are not wrong. You just don’t understand how huge Merrec choosing Jach is. Can you imagine something big and strong always protecting you, only loves you, would do anything for you, ‘stalking’ as you say? Vai’s Sigh is not a place of peace, Leonard.”
“I think I get it,” the human replied after some more thought.
They were quiet again, but it didn’t last as long as the first time. “You know, Leo-Leonard,” Alinon said his name as though it was distasteful, the human could hear it in his voice, though he did appreciate Alinon being mindful of his feelings for a change. “The people on board Jach’s ship, they come from all over, and nobody really knows why they choose to be Surfers.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
A sigh. “Just, you do not have to be you.”
The transmitter fizzled to life before Leonard could ask for Alinon to expound on what he was saying. Judus Jach’s authoritative voice filled the little cabin over Merrec’s breathing. And though he had never heard it before, and he had no idea what was being said, Leonard knew that voice.
“Alright, let’s hear it,” the Surfer stated.
Alinon rolled his eyes at the transmitter because he knew Jach couldn’t see. He wouldn’t have otherwise. Technically, Alinon really wanted argue, he didn’t owe the Surfer anything. But that was neither here nor there, and wouldn’t get him off Earth burning through the new life Leonard was giving him with the near constant ‘Alan’ charade.
“I’m sorry,” the blue-skinned alien muttered. Damned if Jach thought he would get anymore from him. His offering was deemed sufficient, however, and the ship began a steady climb into the heavens.
“Alinon, it occurs to me, and it may be a moot point anyway . . .” Leonard anxiously whispered. Alinon twisted in his seat, eyes instantly turned to him.
“What’s wrong?” the alien whispered back; loathe to warn Jach he was bringing a guest.
“Will I be able to breathe?”
The alien blinked at him. “Of course. You have Breathed Vai’s Breath before.”
Of course, the human thought. The reason ‘Earthians’, as Alinon called the people of his planet, couldn’t explore outer space and survive without the astronaut get-up was because what they considered non-air was merely an alien form of gas from a Mother goddess they didn’t believe in. “Right,” he whispered, more to himself than Alinon.
Twenty minutes later, Leonard felt something snap hold of the vessel and heard an indistinctive yelling that could have been ‘Heave!’ said in time to the rocking of the craft. A minute of two later, there was a slight jostle under his feet, and then stillness.
“Scratch Merrec’s deck and I will use the skin from your hides to fill in the holes!” That was Jach, Leonard thought, and wished he could understand what was being said.
The spacecraft’s lid slid open.
It was already morning in space. Leonard Breathed deeply just to prove he could. The sun was so bright, so close, so warm, but didn’t burn his skin. He shaded his eyes with his arm and could just make out Alinon’s silhouette beside someone else’s. Judus Jach.
~ . ~
“Who is that?” Jach asked, slight frown marring his brow.
“My mate,” Alinon answered with a flourish in Leonard’s direction.
The eyes were shrewd -- they were always calculating -- but the frown turned in to a smile that was less feral than usual and could even be termed happy. “Go on and say it,” the Surfer baited, smirking and expectant.
Alinon glowered, but he didn’t put it past Jach to ‘un-rescue’ him faster than he’d been brought aboard. “Leaving me on Earth wasn’t a complete disaster.” Alinon pouted. Those were so not the words he would have chosen to say. Technically, it was all coincidence, but Jach would take credit, because that was Jach’s way.
“Exactly.” Jach raised his voice to a crewmember. A thin creature, whose off-the-shoulder blouse reminded Alinon of Agatha, he knew his name was Simov. “Bring him over here, and tell Cook to expect one more for meals.”
The Sylph bowed his obedience and Alinon watched as Simov led Leonard from the craft.
~ . ~
He understood that Alinon was making introductions. The man, not much taller than him, mocha skinned, hair black and a hundred times curlier than his own in a thick plat down his back, renegade tendrils flying free at every turn. The face leaned toward masculine around the jaw, but he could be considered androgynous. Short, muscular, he wore a khaki hued duster with no sleeves, with a long-sleeved shirt and black pants of a durable material tucked into black boots that someone had shined all the buckles on. Leonard thought someone because Judus Jach didn't strike him as the type to do that chore by himself -- there were a lot of buckles. There was a sword across his back and another at his hip, both their hilts within easy reach, though Jach didn't strike him as the type to use two swords at once either.
But that was what a person noticed about Judus Jach; the air of apparent danger and that Hell was frozen.
One came to the mortal conviction that Hell was cold. Hell was infinite torture, pain, and remorse. A house of all things irredeemable. It was crystallized, chartreuse portals of agony. It was ice. Hell could be found in Judus Jach's eyes. The Surfer was well named.
He seemed to recall the power his eyes held and glanced to the side, a welcome reprieve, rueful smile on his well-sculpted lips. He spoke to Alinon, a command, and the alien -- his alien -- was scrambling to the Captain's side and whispering in his ear.
When Jach spoke again it was in broken English, accent heavy yet understandable. "Hiyam Capitan Judus Jach. Dis is de crew of the Murry Det," he gestured with impeccably toned arms to the ship and its inhabitants. "You sail wi me, I wull pratek you til I die." the Surfer offered his arm to Leonard after some prompting on Alinon's part. Leonard pieced together that Alinon was likely the ship's interpreter. His ability to get inside an entity's head and not only learn a language, but see it in proper context had to come in handy when traversing solar systems.
He didn't know if he would become as invaluable aboard the Merry Death, but Leonard did know that he could try. What Alinon had said before was true. He didn't have to be Leonard Dukakis anymore. That was a person with fluffy curls, a half blind, one eye-browed geek who people ridiculed, a boy who had given up on attaining the girl of his dreams and had heard his parents die.
He extended his hand. Right now he was a Human being amongst aliens who had no idea about any of that, with tamed hair, groomed brows and eyes that could only be described as . . .
"Cosmic," he greeted Judus Jach, firmly grasping the Captain's hand. "Leo Cosmic."
Alinon's pleased grin barely registered in light of the Surfer's smile, ice eyes squinted to keep the strain they produced from his new charge. When he spoke an answering smirk settled on Leonard's lips. He couldn't understand the language, but he got the gist of it.
"Leo Cosmic, welcome aboard."
*points down* and do not laugh at my girly choice of music.