The Time Killer

Eleven

                                                                               Quadrant 23

      Cain had stopped time and was reliving his last conversation with the Ambassador.

      They had been on Cain’s ship. He had been reclining on Thing, relishing all the destruction he was creation. Cain heard his voice before he saw him. “You make me proud Tur;Po , So much of my greatness radiates from you.”

      Cain stood. Thing backed away until needed. “Our people have a name for what you are Ambassador. The name was Pula. Crazy. Insane. Psycho. Demented. NOTHING that you radiate is in me.”

      The Ambassador laughed. “The anger, the insubordination. So much like me when I was a mere boy like you.”

      Cain punched him. He pulled his fist back again. The Ambassador blinked. The younger Gra was unable to move. “I knew you were going to punch me. I allowed it. I know your next move before you do. I know what your plan with that ATOM 214s is. I know about what you have planned with the trail of blood you want to scatter throughout the universe. I must say I approve.”

      “I began on the path you are on, the path of our ancestors. You need to know the entire story.”

      He blinked. Cain dropped his arm. He had been allowed to hear every word the Ambassador had said. He looked at his father, not sure how to proceed.

      “Your brother has too much of his mother in him. They have the nature of the Ancient Ones. The observers. You and I have the nature of Muah inside us.”

      Cain laughed. “This will be the last conversation we have.” Gathering a thought quickly in his mind, he shot the image forward toward the Ambassador.

      The Ambassador instantly caught fire. He laughed and with a thought, put himself out.

      Cain threw another thought.

      This time the Ambassador’s body scattered into hundreds of thousands of pieces.

      With a thought, the elder Gra reconnected himself.

      The Ambassador laughed. His laughter filled the room and seemed to echo inside Cain’s head. “You can’t kill me!” The voice was one Cain had never heard before. It was impossibly deep and in such a register that the younger Gra wasn’t sure if he was hearing it or feeling it.

      Although Cain didn’t know it, he was more a disciple of Muah than he knew. Many eons ago, in the beginning, Ambassador Gra was simply known as Gra. Gra was Muah’s greatest creation. His first and most loyal disciple.

      “This is my normal voice. This is how I spoke in the beginning.”

      Thing appeared behind Cain and became a reclining chair. Settling back, the elder Gra brother listened with first skepticism, then awe.

      Muah began speaking in the voice Cain recognized. “I was there in the beginning. Muah picked me as his most beloved. He determined that I would enter the world of the Others. What you call the Ancient Ones. By becoming one of the Others, I would rule. Muah’s plan has almost succeeded. I am second only to that plreeb Yorba. I will be the most powerful One in the world of the Ancient Ones.”

      “I didn’t know any of this.”

      “You were not supposed to know any of this. History is written by the winners Tur;Po. The world ruled by the Ancient Ones believed they have won.”

      Gra’s voice changed back. “In the beginning, all was darkness. The universe was a void. All that existed was Muah. In His wisdom, He demanded light. Throughout the world, light illuminated everything it touched. And He determined it good.”

      “Throughout the rest of creation, Muah demanded the creation of the planets and the stars. Next was the animals. Lastly came his disciples. I was his first and most beloved.”

      Cain listened, not quite sure he believed what he was being told. He knew about Muah, of course. He had been part of the fairy tales of his childhood. ‘You better be good or Muah will kill you in your sleep. And eat your soul.’

      “Fairy tales are based on truth Tur;Po.” The Ambassador’s voice was back to the one Cain recognized. “Centuries ago, the children of the Ancient Ones were a delicacy. Muah only demanded it be stopped at my request. The children were refusing to sleep and the parents were badgering the Council. It was a pity though. Children are delicious.”

      Cain stopped the memory. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to believed what the Ambassador had told him. But if it was true it explained a lot.

*                                             *                                     *                                                 *

                                                        Lexington, KY

                                                        June 30, 2020

      It’s been almost twenty years since the Willis’ were killed. I’m still living in the stable. The house is empty. This has been done intentionally. Chad and Pam opened their home to me. They substantially added to the stables. They almost took the place of dad.

      “Good to hear I was so easy to replace.”

      “I said almost dad. I can see that being dead hasn’t helped your hearing.”

      Dad laughed. “Ya always made me laugh Junior. Even when I seen you in the back of that cop car. I wanted ta yell at ya. Just befur I turned around ta go home, you blew a kiss at the back of the cop’s head.”

      I laughed, remembering the scene. I didn’t know dad was watching, I was just determined not to show the cop that I was shitting myself I was so scared.

      “I wanted ta kick yer ass, I wanted ta give ya a hug. I had ever emotion you could have as a parent. But I dint figger on you makin me laugh.”

      “But you always was a funny lookin kid.”

      I looked at dad. He blew me a kiss.

      We both laughed.

      After dad disappeared, I got serious again.

      For as much as I’m upset about being forced to retire, I have no words to express how I feel about not being able to ride.

      Although Spence is still around, I bought a spotted palomino two years ago. Besides dad’s ashes, the only other thing I have is his saddle. This is probably because Uncle Phil didn’t think it was worth anything. Every morning, I grabbed the 50 year old saddle and rode and thought.

      Now I just think. I am still able to walk, so I do still have Horse-time. I’m sure Captain Russel was behind this, Lex PD bought me a recliner, loveseat and coffee table. I am now probably one of the few people with a sitting room in a horse stable.

      After I feed Spence and the palomino, who I named Rogue, I sit down and talk to them.

      Other than dad, horses are the only friends I’ve ever had. Maybe because I’ve been talking to them so much is the reason I’ve been reliving a lot of memories lately.

      Mom died when I was two, so dad was both parents. Seth McCoy Sr grew up during the Great Depression. Many of his early memories were of working the family farm in Alabama. There were cows to milk, eggs to collect from the chickens, hogs to slop. But there was also a garden that needs daily attention. As he got older, dad moved to Texas. I asked him why many, many times. Finally he answered me.

      “Yer Uncle Phil, being the oldest was in charge of the farm after Daddy got sick. He and me had different idees about stuff. Momma was in the middle. So it was better for her if I left instead of fightin Phil all the time.”

      Dad wound up in San Antonio, taking every job he could get along the way.

      The older I get the more I understand him. I realized I’ve inherited more from dad than my name. I’ve found an ottoman at a second hand place here in town that I put my feet on. I spend my nights in the stable, with my feet on the ottoman, with my Maker’s. I also smoke cigars. I do NOT however read westerns, I prefers mysteries. I do admit they are very similar. There are defined good guys and bad guys, and the good guys always win.

      If I talk much more about dad I’ll start crying.