Runalli-4 Page 5

seen her over the years. But I’m still amazed at the effect she has on me.

  She still wears the skin suit. She always does. Its metallic luster forms perfectly to every curve, every nuance of her form, but somehow hides the intimate details.

  “H...how long have you been here?” My voice cracks with age and fatigue.

  Perhaps I’m a whimsical old man, but I imagine tenderness in her eyes as she smiles her answer, “As long as you’ve slept.”

  “That’s vague.” I offer, unsure what to say, unable to say what I feel. It’s funny, I’ve spent my lifetime dreaming of this moment, and now I’ve no idea what to say or do.

  As if she can read my mind, she reaches across the table, grasps my hand, and says, “Come.”

  She stands slowly and helps me to my feet. I curse my weakness, yet must accept. She places my arm over her shoulders, hers around my waist, and helps me walk. I could probably manage on my own, but her warmth and my need to feel her next to me after so many years, overcome my pride.

  As we walk toward the door the other patrons stop what they’re doing to watch us. There’s something magical in this moment. I feel it. They feel it. None of us knows what it is.

  I glance at her and see tears gliding down her cheeks. My mouth opens, to ask if they are tears of joy or sadness, but then closes. It can wait.

  On the street, she guides me toward the local portal. We pass Runallians, Humans, Suenarians, and many other species. All activity on the street stops and they stare as we pass. In my heart I feel we’re engraving this moment in their collective memory. But what’s the significance of an old man and a beautiful young woman walking together? Why does it captivate them so?

  In my mind I hear her voice, All creatures are magical in their own way. These have forgotten what it is, but still long for it. They feel magic in our passing and yearn.

  When we reach the portal, she ignores the man asking for our destination. He tries to stop us. She silences him with a glance and we step through.

  It’s different this time; instead of an icy rush, it’s warm and comforting. We emerge instantaneously. I feel no adverse effects. No sickness. No loss of sight…

  I look to her in question. She smiles and leads me on.

  The air is humid, thick with organic decay. The odor of ancient things fills my nostrils, wraps itself around my sinuses and makes me cough. We’re in a jungle similar to Kuthgar-9’s. Machinery has never spoiled this place. Those who would rape its resources haven’t discovered it, hopefully they never will.

  A narrow path leads a winding course through thick undergrowth. She leads, never releasing my hand. In a trance, I pick my way painstakingly after her. Stepping over vines, traversing fallen trees that lay like sleeping giants in our path, ignoring insects and tiny beings that hover, encompassing us, we move ever forward.

  Progress is slow, tiresome. Despite the renewed strength she brings my old body, I must stop often to rest. I never have to ask. She senses my need and suggests it herself, saving an old man’s pride.

  For hours we follow the path. Does it go on forever? I feel this journey is symbolic. It’s one last, supreme effort before an old man’s reward.

  We stop again, my old heart racing perilously as I gasp for air and sink to the ground. There’s a feeling, an...awareness here old as time.

  The air is growing dim. The sounds of the jungle fade. Despite the trip-hammer of my heart, I’m tranquil. For the first time in my long, sordid existence, I’m truly serene.

  She holds my hand, patiently waiting.

  After a few moments rest I motion her on.

  We’ve traveled another hour when an edifice rises before us. Like a pillar supporting the sky, it climbs up and loses itself in the jungle canopy. I should have noticed it sooner, but it mingles so thoroughly with its surroundings I doubt I could have.

  Releasing my hand, she glides over to stand by an arch, its stone face inscribed with archaic runes. In the dim light her skin suit absorbs the surrounding colors and becomes part of the jungle. Her perfect face seems to float bodiless in midair, waiting.

  I struggle to my feet and limp over to her. She takes my hand with a smile, turns, and leads me through the arch.

  Blackness swallows us as we enter. Blind in the dark, I hesitate. She squeezes my hand and leads me on. I trust her implicitly and follow. In time the passage surfaces begin glowing. The light grows brighter and brighter until it could pass for day.

  The passage ends at a chasm of a room. The walls extend upward farther than I can see. In the center of the space a stone arch, bearing runes reminiscent of those outside, holds a portal.

  Hand in hand we cross the open floor and stop before it. I look at her. Joy mingled with sadness dances across her visage. Tears flow unhindered down her cheeks.

  “Robert...” she starts slowly, perhaps unwilling to say what she must, “I am dying.”

  Her words pierce me. How could she, my perfect, unchanging love, die? Yet I say nothing. There’s no need. We both know I was lost to her from the beginning.

  She continues, “I am the keeper. For two thousand years I have been. My time to live grows short. We…” she motions to herself and the portal, “have chosen you to succeed me.” Her hand poised a mere breath from the portal’s surface, she seeks a response in my eyes.

  My mind spinning with questions, possibilities, I nod. I’m dying too. I’ve known this for some time. I wonder what good this old bag of flesh and bones can do as a keeper. But there must be something, a reason they chose me. When I notice she hasn’t moved, I nod again, more vigorously.

  Perhaps an old man has something to offer after all.

  Perhaps...

  Her hand moves the last heartbeat and the portal’s shining surface leaps to meet her. A stream of liquid silver races along her hand, mingles with her skin suit, flows around her body.

  There’s a sensation on my hand, like warm water flowing over my knuckles. I look. Rivulets of her skin suit coat my hand, stream up my arm, under my clothing. I feel them spreading out, painting my old flesh in a random pattern.

  When it’s finished, I’m coated with a thin layer of living warmth. Only my head and hands left exposed.

  I understand.

  It’s not a skin suit she wears, but a living piece of the portal. And I…

  Without warning, my head snaps back. My arms fly out like a crucifix. My clothing disintegrates in a flash. My skin stings, burns, screams! The poisons of a lifetime are sucked from my flesh.

  The memories begin...

  I’m flooded with the experiences and knowledge of all who came before. Lifetimes full of joy and sorrow assail me. I live each in an instant. I’m not unique. Hundreds came before. Each endured this rite of passage. There’s no choice. It’s the only way to understand the nature of the beings we, so vainly in our pride, named portals.

  They’re a hive mind. This is their Queen. Born in the death throes of a forgotten galaxy, they exist in all times and dimensions. They feed on energy in all forms. As long as there’s been sentient life, they’ve had a guardian, a champion to protect their secrets and preserve the balance. In a symbiotic exchange, they siphon mental energy and knowledge from those who step through—the true cause of portal sickness. For this, they provide passage.

  As the keeper, I ensure beings pass through safely. Without a keeper, those who enter portals are often lost, left to wander between dimensions. Sometimes their molecules are scattered like stardust through space and time. The portals have no taste for flesh, no desire to kill. They cherish life.

  When it’s done, I collapse in an exhausted heap and cry uncontrollably. She kneels next to me, holds me until I stop.

  I know so much, too much.

  My tears are joy, they are pain. I have her memories. I possess her knowledge. Her most intimate thoughts inhabit my mind. I’ve lived her life and the lives of all who came before.

  As I stand and look at my reflection in the portal. My twenty year old body stares bac
k. I look to her. At the very moment I’ve finally discovered who she is and the depth of her feelings for me, I’m losing her.

  Neither of us knows how long she has left. Even the portal cannot extend life indefinitely. But for now we have each other. And then she will live, the reflections of her life, inside of me.

  It will be enough.

  It has to be...

  End.

  Thank you!

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  More Science Fiction and Fantasy Stories from Roland are coming soon. For a current listing of Roland’s stories and books, check his blog:

  https://www.RolandByrd.co/