Right Of Way

By Marc Douglas

Through an amazing series of events, the Federation is toppled and the two planets are attempting to form one government to run both worlds. Even though this is the desired result both were looking for, there is little trust on either side.

Federation Flight 35 had been sent by the Federation to gain control of the planet by military means...with no mercy shown. Previous military missions resulted in devastating destruction, rape and mass murder without even a discussion. The previous attacks had demanded Damari defend itself, and even though outgunned, they manage to cripple the great war ship with a fluke laser shot that hit its main reactor.

Flight 35 has no other option other than retreat. As it hobbles towards the ocean, the main reactor is greatly weakened and they lose all propulsion. There is barely enough power to keep the turbine blades spinning which give the ship lift. They crash in the jungle of the far continent.

The Damari Delegation, on Earth negotiating the terms of the treaty between worlds, orders those left home to rescue the very people who were so intent on destroying them. The new alliance means that they are no longer enemies but allies. If those back on Damari don’t attempt a rescue, the fragile alliance between worlds could collapse.

There are several twists, turns and surprises during the rescue attempt. Book 3 is the story of how the colonists dealt with the rescue, the new alliance, and established a plan for the future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ASJ Publishing
• Release date: May 29, 2015

Book preview

Chapter One

Dawn of Journeys

Timeline Data File 3.11

The One was exhausted. He didn’t complain but his walk lacked bounce, his tail was held low, and his overall demeanor was listless. He let out a soft, low whine when he thought no one was about.

His captivity and torture at the hands of his jailers continued to take their toll even in freedom. Radiation that had distorted and ravaged his body was still at work making his joints ache, muscles fatigue and casting him into prolonged spells of depression.

His heart was great but even those with the most generous natures can be worn down by the relentlessness of time. He was a natural leader and empathetic to others’ troubles even while in pain. When Leader was needed to travel to Earth, The One stepped up to help the village, regardless of his health. There was no gathering to appoint him because none was needed. The One commanded such respect that leading the village fell to him by common consent.

A loner, when he did seek company it was always one person he turned to, Hope. Her scent, those beautiful deep eyes, silky ears and magnificent tail stayed in his mind at all times. Hope wasn’t a mutant and at first he thought there could be no way such a beautiful dog could love him. He was wrong.

The One adored the comfortable silence enjoyed with this breath taking female. There was no need to make useless banter. The intuitive knowledge Hope loved him raised his spirit and gave him the resilience to carry on.

They became mates but not in the traditional Pack way. Couples normally hold a ceremony on the Center Green with the village present. The One preferred privacy and although devoted to the village in an assortment of ways, tried to keep his personal life out of the public eye. Just before the Damari mission left for Earth, Leader and Shawna accompanied them deep in the forest to exchange vows. It wasn’t by chance they chose the very ledge overlooking the valley Leader had so often sat and admired the stars above. Here, at this special place, The One committed his life to Hope and she to him. It was a simple affair, pure and heart felt.

Standing at an edge of the Great Lake this morning, The One sniffed the air. No wind rippled the glassy surface of the water so the reflection that stared back at him was a reminder of what a monster he’d become. This wasn’t a surprise for it had been clearly evident all his life others were scared to death of him because of his appearance. The watery reflection served to reinforce the sadness all the mutated dogs had gone through. Despite continuous attempts to put this behind him, life continually reminded him he was truly a mutant.

After the war mutants found it difficult to blend in with other dogs. The village’s eagerness to welcome them back fired. It made reunion of mutant and dog uncomfortable...strained. The initial shock of living up close to the sadly deformed dogs was too great a reminder of war and brutality they witnessed. Those that had died and how their world continued to change upset the Pack’s equilibrium. Change is often difficult but it was how quickly life had changed that dazed them. It’s hard to see relatives and friends so deformed. Tried as they may, it was difficult to get by the visual images of mutants. The dogs’ hearts ached with sadness and frustration as there was little that could be done but accept and love them.

As time went by, dogs were able to look past the superficial distortions and understand...feel the commonality that bound them together. Most mutants were able to lose the edge to their anger and fell into a routine of Pack living as best they could.

However, a few emotionally ruined mutants wanted to leave and be on their own. They couldn’t cope with the new reality. The truth was they could barely live with themselves, much less other dogs, and needed more time and space to come to terms with what had been done to them. It was possible they’d never have peace of mind again. So angry, they did things that made no sense. The peace and tranquility of the village only magnified their angst. These ravaged souls were self-destructing in front of the village’s eyes. Finally, The One called a Pack gathering. He could identify with the emotions of these few mutants, and while didn’t condone what they did, he understood their turmoil.

So before these acts of self-destruction caused irreparable damage, he wanted to insure everyone understood these battered souls destructive actions. He thought back to the years of containment, abuse, torture and cold, emotionless care Hunter’s guards had given them. It was no surprise some couldn’t let the pain go...couldn’t rectify past and present. Their struggles ate away at him.

Even while knowing the cause intimately, at the same time he realized each mutant could only deal with their own private Hell in their own way. Part of him understood their need to leave. There were fleeting moments he wanted to leave with them. His love of Hope, as well as a deep seated need to help the Pack wouldn’t allow that. Many dogs that night pleaded for the restless mutants to stay. Their intentions were noble but they hadn’t been there and so couldn’t begin to understand issues these mutants dealt with. A gathering was essential to insure everyone understood the depth of the problem.

Without discussion it’d be impossible for the villagers to understand why repeated acts of random violence were occurring. Entreatments to remain, work things out and be with family and friends were futile as captivity had caused too much damage. Transition from caged beast to freed dog was too much. Once The One had asked for order, Clear Sight asked to speak.

We can’t hope to understand what you’ve gone through and the agony you must deal with. It’s with a sad heart I recognize your need to move...search and hope for something or someone that can cool your anger. All of us would prefer you stay but if you feel that is impossible...then know that you’ll always be welcomed here...anytime you choose. Captivity has been particularly cruel to you...but you’re dogs...we’re one.

Wiggles when Walks broadcast his frustration.

Leaving will only serve to make your life miserable again. It’s our community that insures long term peace of mind. Please stay and work with us to understand.

The One stood on the Standing Stone.

Walks, your sentiments are good and intentions noble. While even I can’t comprehend the depth of their angst, solitude might offer the chance for them to work out issues. No one can do this for them and if space is what they need, then we must give it to them.

The One purposely let that thought simmer.

This meeting is adjourned. Any mutant feeling they must leave is free to leave and will always be welcomed home. Villagers must try to understand the difficulty of adjusting. Mutants must realize their responsibility to carry this load and integrate back into our society in a positive way. Those that can’t, speak up and our help is offered. If that help isn’t what you need, then we understand your need for solitude.

The gathering broke up and The One sat alone by the gathering stone. Lost in contemplation he was startled when Hope ran her nose against his.

You hide from me? You think of leaving to help these few?

Her scent was strong, eyes deep. She rubbed her nose against his fur.

There are some things only time will heal. The Pack will mend but needs your presence here to get through these days.

She sniffed his ear.

I need you...we need each other.

She lowered her head and her tail sank low between her legs.

If you must go...I will go with you.

The One put his nose along hers. He loved that she always made him face the truth.

I love you and have been a fool so many times.

She licked his ear tenderly. He looked into her eyes.

But I’ll never hide from you. You’re the reason I’ve any peace of mind and it’s with you I crave to spend every day. No, I hadn’t seriously thought about leaving, it just troubles me greatly.

As the sun set, they trotted to the forest ridge Leader had so admired. Dusk was settling on the day, and as night spread its palette on the sky they slept together on soft pine needles content in the warmth of each other. Stars came out in all their glory to their delight. Their world had turned upside down, chaos had fallen about them in every direction but in the end they survived...no...more than survived...they had each other.

Chapter Two

From the Book of Damari

Timeline Data File 3.111

Reality cold,

Indifferent in its hold.

Don’t waste your time,

When in a bind;

Only two endings to contrive.

Sink or swim, live or die, so try to fly.

Chapter Three

What Goes Around

Timeline Data File 3.112

Barton Emilio Wingsted, commander of the crippled Earth Federation space craft, peered out of the control tower window at the gaping cliffs in front of them. He was a captain who no longer controlled his vessel.

How quickly things have fallen apart.

His orders from Earth had originally been to take command of the planet by military action. The mission had been straight forward and considered to have a high chance of success. Indeed, he didn’t see failure as an option. In the conflict to regain Genesis (the name Earth gave Damari), the ship’s reactor was damaged beyond repair in a fluke accident. A chain reaction from the reactor eventually destroyed the steering system among other essential equipment and as a result his ship was forced to flee rudderless in the sky.

Several days they were adrift, driven by winds over the vast sea below. Thrust engines mounted on frictionless bearings had become useless but the inner core had kept spinning which had allowed them to keep some altitude. With no forward drive, pushed only by the winds, altitude continued to drop slowly until at this moment they were staring at the sheer wall of the cliffs on the far continent. They’d made it over the water but were in need of a miracle to get over the imposing crag.

Bart said a silent prayer as they grew ever closer to the endless wall of rock that the enormous ship would somehow glide up and over onto the massive fist of land. He knew even if the colossal space ship made it over the wall that glared forbiddingly at them, chances of living through the resulting crash were slight.

Despite the odds, he maintained his position of command doing what he could for the doomed star cruiser. What little they were able to accomplish was done on equipment that relied on back up batteries now woefully weak. This reduced energy meant mechanical devices performed at a far slower pace than normal. This added to their dilemma. He turned to his first lieutenant Olivia.

Radio Earth. Let them know this will probably be our last broadcast. We’ve made it over the sea but will be crashing any minute. Hurry!

The small woman spoke into the computer screen, but her eyes were fixed at the ever growing specter of land. She gave a voice directive to the computer, her voice a little too loud.

Connect to Earth!

The computer whirled and within seconds connection was made.

Earth, come in...this is Earth Federation Star Cruiser thirty-six.

Go ahead thirty-six.

We’ve made it over the sea but are about to crash. This might be our last broadcast. Please send help. We’re about to crash. This is first lieutenant Lucy Stone signing out. Consider this our last transmission.

She hesitated for a moment, looked at her commander and then spoke into her headset.

Tell my family I love them.

The commander didn’t look away from the window or acknowledge he’d heard her comment at the end of the communication, but he put his hand gently on her shoulder.

Chapter Four

Hope

Timeline Data file 3.113

Never be so focused on what you're looking for that you overlook the thing you actually find.

Ann Patchett from State of Wonder

Deak gave the reins a snap to urge their horse to go a little faster pulling their cart along the mountain trail. Pearl laid in the back of the wagon her skin already gray, eyes yellow and with most of her hair fallen out. The injection of serum by the Snake People had saved her life but at the same time was altering her physical appearance. Edward sat silently at her side.

They’d been offered refuge with Adella’s people after she had killed her husband Oderamm. Adella knew only too well how the townspeople taunted the Snake People because they looked different. She thought the couple would find life easier with others sharing the same looks than suffering being odd...deformed...outcasts in their own town. They turned down the offer but not without second thoughts and made sure Adella understood their appreciation of her offer.

After killing Oderamm, Adella immediately moved the Snake People out of the swamp. She knew they weren’t yet comfortable moving back into town, more to the point, they weren’t welcomed...at least for the time being. Even if they were not wanted Adella wouldn’t live another day in the snake infested bog.

For years, Adella longed to live among the mountains on the other side of Snake Swamp. Her husband had scoffed at her desires, and adamantly refused to leave the swamp. She yearned for air that was clear and to feel the warmth of the sun on her face unimpeded by the swamp. Now, free of that miserable excuse of a husband, she knew exactly where to go. The meadow she had in mind was bordered on two sides by rivers and easily accessible to Newtown. This was the location she led her people to, and would wait for the town to welcome them back. Until then they’d live out in the open.

Adella wasn’t used to men being like Edward. His insistence on being injected with venom gave her hope for the future. After years of marriage to a selfish idiot, meeting a man who cared more for his woman than himself was a revelation.

The endless complaint of the wooden wheels against the road reminded Deak where he was. He needed to stop day dreaming and get his sister and Edward home. He gave the reins another gentle shake. The day was in contrast to all he was feeling: clear purple skies, a light fresh wind and the sun on his face. The temperature was mild and was relentless in its effort to lift his black mood. Small sounds of the forest sprang up on either side of them. Tiny song birds flew about singing as though there were no cares in the world. Deak looked back at his friend and sister.

How does the world go on when we’re cast in such gloom? Edward already shows signs of the change, and I hardly recognized my sister. Each day she grows a little stronger, stranger in appearance, and has apparently side stepped death...but at what cost?

He felt helpless gazing at her and marveled at the sacrifice Edward had willingly made for his sister. No one spoke, and hours passed as they slowly rolled through the pine forest lost in thought.

Thankful to be out of the swamp and only hours away from town, Pearl lay in Edward’s arms unconscious. The ever present creak of wheels insisting upon more lubrication beat perfect time to the natural rhythm of the forest; wind in the trees, birds perched on branches, underbrush rustled by unseen creatures and the beat of Pearl’s heart as he held her close.

Reality hung blatantly in their face...on their minds...and made small talk insulting. Pearl had been close to death and it remained to be seen how she would recover and what she would become. Minutes seemed hours; the road stretched on as though it would never end. The cart was uncomfortable but helped to distract them. Their lives would never be the same. A hard seat took their minds off a future they didn’t know and unforgiving wood matched their feelings and mood perfectly.

Hip Bone Island appeared as they turned from forest path to grassy plains. Deak saw the roof of the Ranger station glinting in the sunlight. It was good to be close to home but he knew Pearl’s journey had just begun. How would she react to her new body when she awoke? How would the townspeople treat her? Would she regain her health or feel effects of the poison for years to come? Once at Hip Bone they could relax and recover for a day or so before finishing their passage home.

I’ll take them to the medical facilities at Newtown. Perhaps they’ll be able to alter the effects of the serum.

Edward didn’t seem to notice they were almost home. Pearl was in his arms and all else was oblivious.

Chapter Five

Storyteller

Timeline Data File 3.114

Allow me to introduce myself again. You might remember I was employed as a scribe on Earth Federation Star Cruiser Class thirty-three, which is the space ship I lived on for most of my life. It was a sleek white state of the art space craft designed to reach a new world and by doing so save the human race. At least that was the intention. Our society is built on high technology but I dwell in the basement of the written word. In defiance of video and radio wave images that batter our everyday perception of reality, I focus on the intonations of the written line.

I’ve put the history of our plight to word. It has taken eight years and hundreds of interviews as well as my own perceptions as an eye witness. I’m my father’s son: a recorder of history, a searcher of truth but still prone to looking through a tinted lens no matter how hard I try. I’ve seen much. Courage, honor...deception, betrayal...and so little that separate them. It’s here on Damari we became marooned. This alien world is now our home and so many times we thought our circumstance was under control...but in reality, we never were. It has been a difficult task to take opinion and emotion out of the telling, but I’ve given it my best effort.

You’ll notice time line data files in my report aren’t all included. Data files I considered inconsequential have been omitted, and therefore you’ll see frequent gaps between sequential files. It isn’t that these files are unimportant but rather they don’t reflect upon my tale. Take any one of these pieces, follow the road to and from and you’ll have another story all its own, different from ours yet sharing much.

Humans think of time as a straight chronological line when in fact it twists and turns and is capable of splintering into fractured moments in a heartbeat. A single event doesn’t contain one thread forward and one back but instead is surrounded radially with an infinite number of emanations tying it to infinite other actions. A simple snapshot of time can’t be laid flat on your coffee table but instead radiates in all directions in a manner that takes your single moment in time and fills the sky in all directions just as your eye sees the day. We historians like to number steps and link them together but we’re only fooling ourselves in a vast over simplification of reality.

Listen to a news presentation, look for bias, and try to decipher truth. We’re told there are no longer dragons and monsters to fight, but I see and encounter them every day. On the news they lament our lack of heroes but I say this isn’t true. Listen more to their words then the image they portray. Those who repeatedly profess honesty are probably not. Those who hold the veracity of news in their hands are more concerned with popularity then integrity. They’re delighted with misfortune, death, calamity and the more the better. These days you must use multiple sources, meld them together, hold them up to the light to know what you have is someone’s opinion not fact.

My home now is among the stars. I gaze at successes and failures and find the lines dividing them to be often indiscernible. I look at men and women in the news and struggle to understand what makes them different from others mired in the obscurity of everyday living. I watch events unfold and try to understand the reality of what has happened. My confession is most times I find truth isn’t even understood by those who were in the eye of storm trying to direct the wind. Who is qualified to define truth anyway? One man’s truth is another’s lie...ceiling is another’s floor...fantasies another’s reality. I’ve added many lines to this story from the Book of the Damari. It has been called the Journey of a Thousand Tears. Written by hundreds of contributors over the history of my planet it’s a story of life, hope and overcoming. The opening of the book unfolds:

The River of a Thousand Tears

Into our days runs the river of a thousand tears

We’re caught in the current of our fears

But these tears burst and bloom into hope

Without which we couldn’t cope

A thousand tears fall from our hearts

Without which would only be dust and dirt

It is a pure, unblemished thing, unmarred

Sadness so simple, hope momentarily barred.

Thanks for a thousand tears in our life

So when our peace becomes strife

And what we have loved has been lost

Remind us that it is still worth the cost

If I can’t keep up on the journey

Please wait, no matter how long it may be

If you see the tears falling from my cheek,

Not from fear but relief as I seek

While all today may seem but bleak

And efforts to go on leave us weak

It is this very moment of doubt that love

Casts aside the dark and lifts us above

The river of a thousand tears.

Chapter Six

Empathy

Timeline Data File 3.115

It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.

Victor Hugo from Les Miserables

Dogs and mutants lined the final mile of pine forest watching the wagon creak relentlessly forward. They read sorrow and concern in the minds of their friends and wondered at the situation.

Snake People were well known by the Pack. There’d been little trouble between the Pack and the Snake People even though at one time their pets, the snakes, at been an enemy. In