The Uplift Protocol: Issue 9

Issue 9: The Golden Disk

“What will be required is a vigorous training program. It will supersede any commitments elsewhere. To counterbalance the possibility of civilian cover being endangered, this office has created a cover story for these individuals that facilitates the idea that all involved have been advanced to active service within the NASA initiative called Jumpstart. We have already notified relevant parties to this development. This will be especially useful for those demis who can survive the vigors of space.” –Joint Taskforce Initiative for the Employment of Demis for Earth Protection.

“Join the Legion of Tomorrow! The Stars beckon. All are welcome. Apply today at your local T.A office.”-Recruitment holovid.  

“What does the heart desire but a twin to share the joys of life. One is not complete without the other. The Left Hand of Wisdom, The Right Hand of Leadership.”-Old Typherian Saying.

“Our forward scouts to Earth fit in without much issue. The bacon is especially delicious. We find that humans are extremely susceptible to head tilts. They will usually ask no demands of us other than more tilting. Along with the standard greeting of belly rubs. My son, attached to the US Alpha Leader House finds that his slightest pleas are met with much enthusiasm. –Finds-the-Path, Bardaxian Military Advisor to Area 51.

TAS H’taria, Outer Sol System:

J’dax Ayeer looked up from his various displays. “Sister, we have entered the Earth Local Sphere. The current time frame is listed as February 8^th, 2071. Presently the Terrans’ fleets are dispersed throughout their local star system. Some are especially condensed near a rather rusted planet called Mars. Our stealth systems are still fully operational.” 

J’ino gazed out from her view screen. The rays of Sol illuminated the Void. Earth herself was a cerulean orb, glittering in the darkness. What a curious pale blue dot you are.  Her voice caught slightly at the panoramic view on display. This day would be a turning point for both Humanity and the Typherian Ascendency.

“I wonder how they will react when we tell them about their golden disk endeavor. A simple enough message but profound in its way.” She took out her necklace, emblazoned with the emblem of her family, the twin binary suns, A'rgax and H'yola. I will find a way to free you from your chains Father. While most of her people and by extension, her society was filled with many great feats and achievements, at the heart of their civilization: a terrible responsibility. 

One thrust upon them long ago. When this universe was still young. The very threads of the Multiverse weaved into that eternally maintained matrix. That damned Throne. Her face tightened with barely suppressed fury. The councils may feel that her House was the best qualified to be caretakers for it but she believed that it should have been the responsibilities of all the Major Houses. Not just hers. 

“Brother, bring up the coms array, inform the Ascendency that we are about to initiate contact. Begin evaluation for Uplift.” Her voice was smooth and commanding but he saw how her jaw tensed. 

J’dax, for his part, sympathized with his sister’s frustrations. While they weren’t in direct line for the Throne, the auxiliary Houses were still expected to stay viable for the honor. Plus he understood her caution even now.

Anytime they decided to approach another prospective candidate, it felt like shot in the dark, especially considering the scale and time dilation between initial messages received like the Voyager units, versus what they would find upon entering the system of origin. Those without FTL, prolong, or other extended life enhancements, the society they could be facing had a very high chance of being completely different upon reinspection. Hopefully, the Forgers insights of this place were accurate.   

Their probes were even more advanced then Typha’s own. He accessed the Requilary Analytical Maxtrix dubbed Horus:

Origin date: March 3^rd, 1805 ---Beginning Record of Earth and her various people.

Accessing…..notable years include….1915, unknown energies recorded, UNDERWATER POWERED STRUCTURES NOTED, Partial origin of unidentified energy sources///1930 BETRAYER INFLUENCE DETECTED, 1940 Nation “USA” formed Western Alliance Protocol, 1947 ROSWELL INCIDENT///STOLEN TECH DETECTED, FURTHER BETRAYER ACTIVITY NOTED///Forger High Council informed...

J’dax made special note of the Betrayer angle then tapped on the display screen, highlighting the most recent data packages, then routed them to his sister’s console. Her eyes widened in dismay. By the Rulers. Now I feel for Earth. To encounter them in such a state. Most of the civilized multiverse had a name for them. The Gray Ones. The Void Walkers. The Betrayers. Tall whisper-thin beings were ashen in color, giant black pitless eyes, slits for a nose. Even their minds gave off a cold and ruthless otherness that repelled most Typherians. The only recognizable impression that even the most powerful of their telepaths could detect: Logic and a cold hunger.

J’dax could feel the creeping horror of his sister’s thoughts. He centered himself and gave her a mental shove. Bolstering his sister with love, resolve and support, because while she was formidable, he was a TSF veteran. Her military advisor. 

He cleared his throat and replied, “Affirmative, bringing up geographical data of Earth. Locating Primary Governmental Authority. All major nations of Earth are still recognized as individual bodies but the overall network lists the Terran Alliance as the primary for Earth’s overall Defense and Diplomacy. Artificial Island surveyed. Listed as Union Hall. Shall we proceed?”

J’ino gazed back at her brother and she gave him a rather blasé grin. “Indeed. Wonder if they have anything like H’itah on this planet. It should be fun to find out.”

Area 51, Typherian Embassy

Earth (US Facility, Groom Lake)

January 12th, 2072

            J’ino tapped the display before her. It brought up various points of current events and Earth-based newscasts. Her silver-blonde hair was in disarray. Her eyes, normally a bright gray-green within the black sclera, were lined with exhaustion. She stifled a yawn and kept scrolling. 

“What an interesting mix you are.” She half muttered.

Someone snorted. J’ino glanced up to see her brother in the archway. His posture was refreshed and alert. She yawned at him. Her jawn popped. Very undignified for someone of her station. With a wave of her hand, she formed a ball from the excess rubber in the room. At her command, it hovered above her palm, poised for action. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it sailing at her brother’s head. All without a single touch. He blocked it, stabilizing it mere inches from his browline. Within their world, this was a child’s play level of matter manipulation. J’dax just rolled his eyes at his little sister. With mock seriousness, he intoned, “Beware the wrath of older brothers! We have long memories.” 

A melodic chime echoed down the hall. 

“All ambassadors to their stations.” It was showtime. After a fashion.

*****

The first human to enter the viewing room, what the Earthers had designated the Situation Room, was a tall member of his species. Close cropped black hair. Brown eyes. Surprisingly tall. Easily the hight of her brother. 6ft 5 was quite a number. Her father was nearly 8 feet. Among her people: even that count was very unusual. At 5’10, she felt like a miniature next to him. Her mother was even shorter. She gave an impish grin as the Bardaxian Security squad entered her viewing section. Their joyful barks filled the Uplifted end of Area 51. They all stopped and sat in a circle around her. What earth called a Beauceron, the head of Security, tilted his head at her. Commanding attention with a flick of his ears and his posture of sheer alertness.

His voice was low and gravelly within her mind, >>Good day madam Ayeer. I see the prospects are arriving. That one is called Col. Thomas Murphy. Horus says he might just be the kind of glue Earth will need. My nose hardly ever falters. That one has old blood in him. From the time of the Markav Golden Age.<<

She gave the American soldier closer scrutiny. Earth had so many countries, it was pretty amazing that they all coalesced this quickly. Then again, this planet had a usually high level of gifted people. Those called Demis. She brought up his phy-social profile. She winced when she got to his former marriage debacle. Her face was burning. Why even consider that part? Another one of the Bardaxians, the beagle shaped one, nudged her hand with his cold wet nose. 

His mind voice was clear and excitable, tail thumping wildly on the deck, >>He is good material! He gives me treats on the base. Bet he would give a pretty lady like you the best treats!<<

Horus broke in on the com channel before the rest of the Borking Brigade, as she took a page from Earth’s nomenclature, could give more input. J’ino gave herself a mental shake. She eyed the Basset Hound, a warning on her lips, “Not a word from you.” His ears drooped even further in response. He rested his paws on the display along the wall. With a little tap of his nose, a familiar tune emanated, “Who explores the vastness of Space?! CAPTAIN COSMOS! Guest Starring…..” 

Images flashed by--one, in particular--caught the old Bardaxian’s eye, a Robotic K-9, called Jester. 

Yes, these humans knew what was good. Noble and true. Even if they didn’t know Bardaxians existed, they treated their Earth brothers and sisters well. Even gave them chicken and bacon. Absolute delicacies, the old Basset thought to himself. He could smell the odd mix of pheromones coming off the Ambassador. It had only been a year or so but he noticed her becoming more interested in this pale blue dot by the day. 

No, that wasn’t quite it. 

He turned his soulful gaze to the tall dapper man reading his morning updates, ever so often gulping the coffee on the table. His tail gave a small shake. He caught his commander’s eye. Riding the mental private links all of his kind knew: 

>> Finds-The-Path, special request! Shall we get his attention? To help the lady. Even Typherians have the oddest hang-ups about acquiring the best mates.<<

The Beauceron gave a slight nod in return. His ears flickering back and forth in an instant. As if testing the air with them. After a moment, they all could hear Horus linking all ambassadorial viewers to the Situation Room’s Audio and Visual feed. J’ino just gave a private sigh of relief. She always enjoyed a visit from these four-footed allies but they didn’t have many social graces. Sometimes the questions got to be too much. Still, she couldn’t help but peek at more of his profile as he sat there. 

*****

                Thomas sneezed. As though eyes were on him. He gave a quick check around the room. Besides himself, there were no others for the moment. The table and chairs were arranged like always. Large oval-shaped hardwood surface. The black leather was topnotch. He sat up for a moment. Stretching his legs. He picked up his mug and started circling the room. There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Reaching out he laid a hand on the wall. Pressing his palm into the surface. It felt like concrete. But some nagging feeling in his mind kept eating away. Leaving a kernel of doubt. 

            Almost like that time on Mars.

            It was too bad that Argus decided to go the civilian route after a while. Then they both could have been here to examine the oddness of it all. Area 51. The conspiracy mecca of all mankind. The one joke that always got him groaning when people asked,

“Save any pretty aliens yet?!?”

He just pressed his forehead to the wall for a moment. His eyes screwed shut.

If only things were that simple. He almost felt like an alien in a human suit sometimes. Things with Anna had gotten worse since Operation Carter. Half the time his kids wouldn’t even stay at her house. They especially disliked her new husband. At one point he had to search for Samantha. She had very nearly managed to catch a Grav-Train to her maternal grandparents' in France. It was a good thing his father was faster than a speeding bullet. He straightened his tie. Giving his US Army dress uniform another once over then returned to his seat as more footfalls sounded down the hallway.

*****

            J’ino stared into Thomas’ eyes as he leaned against the concealed one way viewing wall. She saw the moment of pain flicker then it was hidden away behind a mask of responsibility. Something she felt all too keenly herself. More people filled the chamber. The current US President, Fredrick Marshall, took a seat near the main screen of the room. Even with prolong, as new as it was to Earth, didn’t stop his hair from going nearly all white. His bright blue eyes focused on everyone. A sense of mirth radiated off of him like a furnace. Warming everyone within reach.

           

            “Ah! Let’s get started shall we?”

He turned to the other Earth Representatives as they settled in. The last to cross the threshold was the FBI’s attaché to Area 51. She walked briskly to Marshall’s side. Surveying the room like some sort of insect. Her brown eyes were devoid of any warmth. J’ino shifted her viewscreens. The name on the tag read H. Brookes. Her mousy brown hair was cut in a side bob. By the set of her mouth, this was a person that had no time for joy, it spoke volumes. Reminded her of her father’s seneschal, unfortunately. A very dour man. 

Looking into those lifeless orbs, all J’ino could think: Those were the eyes of a killer. She shivered and gripped her coat tightly about herself. Her fingers felt numb. It hissed as it fed heat into her bones. Finds-The-Path took special notice of the Ambassador’s reaction. He silently bared his teeth at Brookes. That one smelled off. He would keep a close watch on that one. Beside him, his Red Defender companion also gave Brookes a side glance. While he was large, what this world called the Great Pyrenees, he often only went galactic if the population of Groom Lake was in direct danger. Barks-At-The-Sun opened a summons. Blood called to Blood. There was another Red Defender in the sector.

>>Lady Q’vera, blood to blood, it might be wise to stay close to your sister. We think there is corruption within the Terran side of things. One, in particular, smells dangerous. My belt whispers to me of hidden knives.<<

He felt acknowledgment and a fierce sense of pride. She would come. Watch and wait. He felt J’ino give him a gentle pat on the head. Making sure to get the hard to reach places. He leaned into it. Yes, he would protect. So would the sister. The time of Convergence was near.

North Rachel

Nevada (The Blue Saucer)

January 14th, 2072

Paxton hollered and waved frantically as Thomas walked into the bar. Its neon blue Saucer ship lighting up the evening like a gaudy New Vegas sign. Various locals were decked out in “Take Me To Your Leader” t-shirts. Wearing equally cringy masks. Neon green or yellow. With the fake antenna on the top. Their local demi hero was called the Mighty Mallet. Thomas decided he didn’t want to know. His dad would usually keep him abreast of demis that were involved with the T.A  or US side of the house. He ambled over to Argus, slapping his best friend on the shoulder. 

“Well now, what brings you out to Nevada of all places?” He had to practically yell to be heard over the din.

Paxton grinned, slightly shitfaced from the 2 or 3 mugs of beer in front of him, “Weeeeeeelllll, I got some vacation time so I wanted to hang with my battle buddy. And get to know some interesting ladies.” 

He jerked a thumb to the two women in a booth off to the side. Thomas gave them a quick assessment. Then his jaw dropped. One was in a nice green slip of a dress. She caught him looking, said something to her companion, and walked on over. Just like that. Her sheer baldfaced boldness shocked him. Sending an electric feeling up his spine. He didn’t think anyone should legally have that much sensuality to them but this lady didn’t seem to care. Her grey-green eyes pinned him to the spot. “Well now soldier, care to give a lady a drink?” Thomas gave a crisp nod. 

“Bartender, give the lady your best. On me.” He felt his face relax into a carefree boyish grin. Her necklace caught his eye too. It looked like one part of silver and one part gold. In the shape of two moons? Or maybe Suns? In any event, those eyes of hers held him. The whites were nearly perfect in the deepest green-gray of her irises. 

Paxton was beside himself with glee. He winked at the other woman. She gave him a slight nod. Then gave the Beagle next to her a nice pat. Argus never really knew why but for whatever reason, he got a good feeling about the lady in green, maybe it was a side gift of his true sense. Yea. That was it! He wouldn’t fail Thomas this time. It was too bad the other lady wasn’t on the table. He could see the simple gold band on her finger. Oh well. With prolong, the sky was the limit.

*****

                Q’vera sent a burst to her sister, >>You happy now? Drownding in his pretty brown eyes? Is he everything you dreamed---<<

 She could feel J’ino’s amusement within the link. Under that was something that surprised the older Typherian with its depth, a sense of kinship with the human. Was her sister infatuated? Oh my. Of all the Ayeer siblings, there was a running bet that J’ino would be the most carefree. Unattached and ever free. This was an interesting turn. Would she join the rest of them in the realm of responsibility? She leaned back and pinged Horus.

<<Yes Commander Ayeer?>> Was the prompt reply. 

<<Where are the rest of the Barking Conspiracy?>>

The FRAM spun some computations: <<They are currently stationed at various points around the Saucer. Blending in until you both return to the Embassy.>>

She singled the serving staff around the establishment. As the waitress came up, she stated with much enthusiasm, “More of this lovely refreshment. Another pitcher!” It would appear they would be in this for the long haul. Her baby sister was getting attached. What a universe indeed.

North Rachel

Nevada (NASA Museum)

February 28th, 2072

            Thomas Murphy felt like the luckiest man alive. Well nearly. In the weeks since the Meeting, as he called it, he and Jennifer were hitting it off pretty well. She had her ever-present Great Pyrenees with her. He was a giant of white fur and energy. Nearly always in motion, chasing squirrels, barking at them, or pulling them both along various pathways in a merry chase. At one point they both went tumbling as Snowball, both athletic and sneaky, tripped them both up in his leash. His doggie grin plastered on his face. Like he alone accomplished the greatest plan known to K-9 kind. Jennifer landed squarely on Murphy’s chest. Her breath quicked as her nose brushed up against his neck. For a moment, both were frozen, just laying there in a tangle of limbs.

            Snowball barked and pranced around them. Jen pulled her light, nearly white-blond, hair away from her face. Thomas reached out and plucked some wayward leaves from her head. She gave a small giggle. Her nose crinkling in a way that enchanted him. He never thought he’d fall this hard for someone again. Her green-gray eyes locked onto his mouth for a moment. Like she knew what he was thinking.

*****

J’ino clamped down on her mental capabilities as she felt where his inner thoughts were going. On one hand, she felt the need to peek. Just a little. Then her sense of right would take over and she’d pull her Typherian feelers back in. Humans didn’t have the luxury of the same kind of connection two Typherians could share. She simply buried her face in the crook of his neck again. Inhaling his aftershave. A mix of mint and spices she found irresistible. Those pesky Borking Bardaxians. She gave “Snowball” a particular look. One filled with equal parts amusement, mock indignation, and glaring. 

“You are a horrible dog. Yes, you. Don’t you give me that look! Bad dog. Very very bad!” Her tone seemed harsh but her eyes told a different story. 

Snowball just gave a very self-satisfied huff. Plopping that great big dog butt on the earth. Chest puffed out. A king of his very own castle. She just shook her head. Waggled her index finger at him. “This is all your fault.” Thomas gave a gwuaff as Snowball seemed to nod in agreement. He eventually picked himself up, gazing down at J’ino, his hand held out before her. She smiled up at him and took it.

*****

                Once inside the museum, they spent the day looking at all the past glories of Human space flight. Jennifer was transfixed as Thomas. She knew he loved to fly. Saw his training records at the Embassy database but seeing the passion in his eyes. In-person. It brought out a whole other side to him she was eager to get to know. 

Her family line was known for their abilities in space flight. 

What kind of children would that produce? She bit her lip. 

Where did that thought come from?

Murphy Household

New Ashbury (Texas)

October 31st, 2072

            Eleanore Murphy was on Cloud 9. Her son brought home a grand slam. She took one look at Jennifer and practically adopted her on the spot. Granted, having a complete pack of dogs did help, from an adorable beagle to a mighty Beauceron. Anyone who treated any K-9 like that with such tenderness spoke well of her personality. Thomas saw the look on his mom’s face and hid a smile behind his hand. His father was leaning on the wall by the kitchen. An unlit cigar in his mouth. He gave his son a double thumbs up. With a wink. 

            “So while the ladies get to know each other, why don’t you tell me how all this started huh?”

*****

            “You suspect the dogs of what now?” His father's tone was equal parts amused and confused. Thomas reclined further into the easy chair in his dad’s “Man Cave.” As his mother called it. He took a swig of the shot of whiskey. It helped him unwind. He met his dad’s gaze, replying, “Those dogs are much smarter than the average bear. You ever encounter demi dogs before?” 

            After a moment, “Can’t say I have.” The older Murphy snorted as the various flowers in the office started to bloom. Both men just shared a relieved smile. “Looks like she has your mother’s stamp of approval.”

*****

J’ino listened as the Murphy matriarch went about the formal area, showing her all the family albums and records. Her light demeanor darkening slightly when a quick photo with Anna surfaced then she carried on like nothing was amiss. The Typherian brushed Eleanore’s mind. Nudging it away from the darker thoughts. The older woman’s shoulders relaxed slightly. The tension fading from her face. Out of the edge of her vision, J’ino spotted some plants blooming rapidly. The White Lily indeed. She gave the other woman a big grin. “So, how did you and your husband meet?” 

After a moment, the Lily answered, “Oh the usual. Kind of an office romance.”

She giggled. 

J’ino looked down for a moment then caught a knowing look on Eleanores’ face. 

“Oh my god. You too!?”, the elder Murphy exclaimed.

J’ino leaned on the table for support as she doubled over in laughter. 

Between great gulps of air, “You could say that.” 

She felt the older woman brush the tears from her face. 

“My son is the luckiest man on Earth. Truly.” She wrapped J’ino in a hug.

St Patrick’s Cathedral

New Ashbury (Texas)

December 11th, 2072

        Paxton adjusted his black tux. 

The soothing sounds of the organ echoing throughout the whole building. Beside him, in his best dress blues, Thomas waited for the Bridal March to start. In the groom section, his parents took center stage. With their extended family behind them. While on the bride’s side, Jennifer’s younger brother and older sister sat. Waiting patiently. Her sister, Valentine. What a distinctive name. She seemed particularly amused. Glad but almost in a state of shock about the proceedings. Her brother had a huge grin on his face. His green formal ware was complete with an unusual belt. It too was green. With golden markings. 

        The Red Sister and Green Brother. 

Paxton snorted. Just like X-mas.

Plus the dogs. Those were also on the bride’s side. All 4 of them. A Beagle. A Basset Hound. The Great Pyrenees and a Beauceron. Each had a little tie in their collars. Akin to what Paxton had around his neck. Not even one bark out of any of them. Very well trained. He winked at the bridal side. Shooting them some finger guns in the process. All the dogs, as one unit, got on their hind legs and gave a dog equivalent of a salute. Fore paws in the air. Paxton put his hands on his hips for a moment.

Those dogs were something else. He saw Valentine bite back a fit of laughter. Her nearly golden eyes at odds with her blond-white hair. All turned in unison to the March. Jennifer was being escorted down the aisle by her oldest brother, his hair a darker brown. Eyes very much like her own.

All good things have a beginning. 

A united wall to face many ferocious storms ahead.

 

 

*****

Horus recorded the whole event while cloaked in the back of the chapel. The live feed fed into the private chambers of V’alkor and M’taris Ayeer. While the whole multiverse knew them as the rulers of Typha. The actual truth was much more complicated. The time of Convergence was fast approaching. In time, they hoped that their daughter and her children would be able to forgive them. The path before everyone was going to be quite arduous. They only hoped that the bonds of family and friends would be enough to stem the tide approaching.

For a precious few moments they were just parents. Watching their youngest child greet the other half of her soul. In this quiet moment, the greatest of miracles would happen. At the heart of this story: Hope. 

V’alkor reached out, accessing the “throne.” Within his mindscape, the future shined bright: a reflection of himself gazed back. Same eyes and hair. But with the shape of her mother’s face. The father’s commanding stare. 

Here We Stand Grandfather. The Past and the Future. 

The Wall Endures.

• Issue 8: Here
• Issue 10: Here