Last Vampire 6(18)

"But you will not tell me how to defeat him?"



"No. You must find the way. It is your destiny to do so."



I don't want to ask the question but I do anyway.



"Is it also my destiny to die? Alanda?"



She shakes her head. "I cannot say."



"But you come from the future. You know. Tell me."



"I know that you will rewrite our future. Please do not ask me to say more." Her eyes return to the heavens and she points. "Behold, Sita. Our ship comes for you."





6





The funny thing is, I don't see anything. Alanda explains that the ship will land deep in the desert, beside a clear pond. She offers to drive me there, but I prefer to take the Jeep, so she goes with me instead. We cut directly across the sand, murdering more than a few tumbleweeds in the process. Yet the ground is not excessively bumpy, and we soon reach the pond. After parking, I climb out and stare at it in amaze­ment.





The pond appears to be natural—Alanda assures me it is even though it is a perfect circle. A hundred feet across, the water lies so still that it could be a polished mirror set to reflect the stars. Indeed, as I approach the edge of the pond, I see more stars in the water than I do above. I see the approach of the saucer in the water before I see it in the sky, quite a few seconds before. It makes me wonder, yet I say nothing.



The saucer is blue-white, and the light from it slowly begins to flood the area and my eyes, wiping out any chance of my making out the details. If I weren't dreading seeing Landulf, I would be thrilled by this moment. But I can only think of Landulf s devilishly handsome face, his deep laugh, and the way he would make an incision in an abdomen with his long sharp nails and slowly pull out the victim's entrails while the victim watched. I feel I must resist Landulf with every fiber of my being. Yet Alanda says that is the way of failure.



I have no idea what I'll do that is different from what I did the last time.



I stare up at the saucer.



"This is incredible," I whisper.



"This is but a beam ship," she says. "Our mother ships are a thousand times this size."



"And I have been on these before?"



"Yes."



"When?"



"Another time."



"Are you sure the brakes work? The ship looks as if it's going to land on us."



"It will land over this pool."



"Then we should move?"



"No. We're fine. It will move right over us."



The light grows dazzling, and I have to shield my eyes.



"This must be visible from a hundred miles away," I gasp.



"No one sees it but us," Alanda replies.



I glance at her. "Is it physical?"



"What is physical in one density is not physical in another."



I have to laugh. "One of these days, Alanda, I am going to ask you a question and understand your answer."



The water of the pond seems to glow as the space­ship settles over us. One moment it is above us, the next we are inside it. The translucent floor, I assume, now covers the pond. During the move to the interior, we have had our clothes changed. We now wear long white robes. I don't even bother asking—the night is so weird already.



A gentleman waits for us inside. He is tall and bearded—like a child's drawing of a Biblical charac­ter. His robe is the color of the outside of the ship, blue-white. The interior of the vessel is in various shades of gold, and the ceiling is a clear dome, that opens to the sky. There appear to be no controls. Alanda introduces her friend as Gaia. He smiles and bows his head but doesn't say anything. His eyes are liquid green and very lovely.



"Gaia is from a race that doesn't speak," Alanda explains. "But he understands your thoughts."



I nod in his direction. "I appreciate your coming for us, Gaia. I hope it was not too long a journey."



He smiles and shakes his head. No, not too long.



There is a faint humming.



"What is that?" I ask.



"Our engines," Alanda says.



"Will we leave soon?"



"We have already left." Alanda motions with her arm. "See, we are in orbit."



The floor of the craft turns clear as glass, and I jump slightly, momentarily afraid I am going to fall. Below our feet is the black-blue Pacific, and the glittering coast of California. I spot Lake Tahoe, and think of my friends. We seem to be moving westward, at considerable speed. Yet the hum has stopped, and all is quiet. The view takes my breath away, it is so beautiful, and yet it also makes me sad. To see the Earth from such a vantage point, to realize it is all I have known. Never before did I realize how much I thought of the Earth as my mother.