"A Voice In The Wilderness"

by

Michael Gray

"Janus!"

Osmand stirred at the shouting of his name from the intercom speaker.

"Lights," he ordered as he rose from his bed. Slowly the darkness in his quarters retreated into the corners of the room, and into his overburdened soul.

"Yes, Sirona?"

The young Romulan woman's voice sounded calmer now that he'd answered her. "I have returned from the surface. I believe you will want to hear my report."

"I'll read it later."

"It cannot wait."

"Assuming this planet isn't in need of immediate assistance of some kind..."

"The question isn't what assistance we can offer, but what this planet offers to our cause."

Now she had his attention. "What do you mean?"

"Come to the command deck and find out."

The intercom switched off.

He had little choice but to go to her.

One day he would have to find a way to end this pattern of his life being commanded by the young women in his charge.

Ahwi... where are you?

It had been nearly a year since he had seen his adopted daughter, and despite the comforting message of a Vedala who had visited him months ago, he found his thoughts consumed by her disappearance.

But now, he had to focus on the mystery Sirona offered.

***

"This is what you brought me up here for?"

Sirona Rann's petite form glided across the deck to him. "He has insight beyond that of his people's knowledge."

Osmand shook his head and switched off the display. "These sorts of motifs are common throughout humanoid religions. I hardly think this man... what was his name?"

"Forcas."

"This Forcas, is hardly worth our time," Osmand said. "He may be useful to help us introduce the concept of aliens from other worlds to his people, but..."

"Come and hear him."

"Why?"

"Your opinion shall change if you hear him speak."

Osmand didn't like that look on her face. It reminded him of how Ahwi would get when she wanted something and "no" wasn't an option.

"I think we have spent enough time in this system. We will leave this to one of the other ships."

"Janus, I have no illusions that you trust me as you did your daughter."

"Don't bring Ahwi into this... please."

She placed her hand on his arm. "I'm asking you to trust my judgment. If we are all truly equals, if your words mean what you say they do, prove to me that you have gotten beyond the distrust my people have instilled in yours for centuries."

Osmand smiled. He'd never considered this had far more to do with Sirona's self-worth than what awaited him on the surface. He was only half human, but he knew that was the part of his background she had something to prove to.

His Betazoid half now made that clear as he felt the need in her emotions.

"Very well," he said. "We leave for the surface within the hour."

A smile conquered her previous sadness. "Thank you, Janus."

***

Desert covered Merion V. Sensor readings indicated the climate was a result of deforestation and industrialization from six centuries ago. With the decline of the ecosystem, the society on Merion V had fallen as well. Now they lived in a dark age far worse than any Janus Osmand had read about.

While small cities covered the main continent, the majority of the population did little more than subsist at a hunter-gatherer level of social development.

But they had once dreamed. Scans revealed the people of this world had traveled to the two moons orbiting their planet, leaving behind mementos in the form of discarded spacecraft.

One day Janus Osmand would see to it their dreams would soar to the stars again.

He glanced over at Sirona as she piloted the cloaked Romulan shuttle. She had joined his caused two years earlier with a passion which had at first surprised him. As the months had passed, and especially since Ahwi had left, he was glad to have someone at his side who believed in their cause as strongly as he did.

The fight against the Federation's Prime Directive had to continue. Humanoids throughout the Galaxy had to be told the truth of who they were, and learn of their brothers and sisters on planets like Earth, Vulcan, Andor, and thousands of other worlds.

Sirona was the future. He was the past. It would be up to her to continue the work he began.

And it was time for him to listen to her insights.

Though he doubted Forcas was little more than a shamanistic religious leader, she had seen something to suggest he was more.

Osmand was curious to discover what that was.

***

Wearing hooded robes like those of the locals, Janus and Sirona made their way through a small settlement, battling fierce winds and the stale stench of a dead world.

"He speaks daily at the temple up ahead," Sirona said as she pulled the hood tighter around her face against the dry wind. "We should be able to catch him."

Osmand nodded as she led him past several street vendors selling an assortment of artifacts no doubt dug up from the remains of the former civilization of this world. In his previous life, he would have spent hours, if not days, surveying their wares. He felt a pang of sadness that he no longer had time for such joys.

When will I have time for myself again? he wondered.

No, the cause was too important. He had come at the right moment in history to transform the Galaxy, and before he died, he would see that course firmly rooted.

She led him past several structures built of an orange wood, barely holding their own against the wind. A few moments later, at the end of the alley-way, he saw a gleaming tower of metal stretching a hundred feet into the sky.

"Interesting," he said more to himself than her.

Soon they stood at the entrance of the structure where a throng of people clad in robes elbowed their way into the building.

"Seems he draws quite a crowd."

Sirona smiled. "Actually, the weather seems to have halved it. Yesterday they overflowed into the street."

Sirona and Osmand made their way through a sea of people into the cavernous main hall, a room some two hundred feet in diameter, and fifty feet high. Osmand estimated there were at least a thousand in the audience seated in multiple rows of concentric circles around a stage at one end.

She led him to a couple of open seats nearby.

"So they're using the abandoned buildings of their ancestors."

"I found that most unusual," Sirona said, her voice low. "Apparently most here feel their ancestors inhabit these structures. As far as I have been able to tell, this is the only one they enter at all, and that they do it in such large numbers is even more surprising."

"I think my earlier assessment was certainly wrong about this world." He surveyed the crowd. "They may be more ready for contact with us than they first seemed."

He pointed to light panels in the ceiling, an obvious indicator the people here had found a way to reactivate at least some of the old technology.

"So far, I have been unable to discover the power source."

He nodded. "How many times have you heard him speak?"

"Twice."

"What does he preach about?"

She smiled. "I'll let that be a surprise."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"I will admit at first I was somewhat frightened by what you will hear, but when I realized the insights he had achieved on this small world, I knew that not only was he a sign of the rightness of our cause, but that he could..."

She stopped as the talk in the hall hushed to near silence. Everyone around them turned to one of the side entrances. Two tall men at either side pulled the heavy curtains apart. A single figure took a step forward.

A little taller than average, Forcas stood looking out at the quiet sea before him. His white hair formed a halo around a face which Osmand thought showed far more wear than the few decades he'd probably lived. The eyes drew him in with a warmth alternating with... was it knowledge, or something else?

Forcas took several measured steps down the aisle, passing Osmand and Sirona. He stopped and turned back to stare directly at Osmand. His head tilted slightly to one side for a moment. Then he smiled wide, but only for a second. He continued to the stage.

Osmand's empathic abilities were overloaded by the encounter. He felt a flood of emotions wash over him all at once. But what remained was a feeling of being understood more deeply than he ever had been in all his life.

"I see what you mean," he whispered to Sirona.

Osmand sensed a wave of anticipation wash over him, both from himself and the crowd.

Forcas mounted the elevated stage, raising his arms. Behind him, an alcove held a small tree.

"The days of our suffering near their end," Forcas said almost too softly for Osmand to hear. "The days of our forgetfulness are giving way to the time when we shall all remember who we are."

Osmand felt this shaman's eyes upon him again. It wasn't mental probing, more a caress of his thoughts. Osmand's years of mental training sprang into action. It was more reflex than the anticipation of a threat, but it wouldn't hurt to stand ready.

Forcas smiled.

"Our ancestors, our ancestors..." The deep voice paused. "But I speak not of those who were punished for destroying our world. You who have heard me before know I speak of those who seeded worlds beyond number. They gave us not only this ground we walk upon, but the stars in the night sky and beyond."

Osmand turned to Sirona.

"There is more," she whispered.

"These ancient ones fought a great and terrible evil, sacrificing themselves for us that we might have life. But though they are no more, they will live in us once again. Through us, they will rise from the darkness." He lowered his head a moment, pacing across the stage. "But first we must join with our brothers and sisters among the stars. Together we will bring life where only death was before, light where only darkness reigned, peace where only war was known."

Osmand activated the recorder under his robe. He wanted a chance to dissect this man's words later, away from the excitement of the moment.

With the proper training, and exposure to the greater galaxy, Forcas might be the very one to continue what he had started. The burden upon his shoulders seemed to lighten with each word Forcas spoke.

"Several months ago, many of you heard me speak of the day when two from the stars would arrive..."

Osmand pushed everything out of his mind. How could he know...

"This is that day! The day when our world joins our brethren from the stars!"

The crowd cheered.

Osmand tugged at Sirona's robe. He suspected Forcas had tapped his mind without his knowledge. He had no desire to be a part of whatever Forcas was doing with these people.

But he stopped. Wasn't this the very thing he had come to this planet and hundreds of others for? Perhaps the population as a whole wasn't ready for them, but Forcas obviously was.

The crowd became silent again.

"Janus Osmand, come forth."

Both Osmand and Sirona stood, but he could see the fear in her eyes. This crowd was more than they could handle if things became difficult.

Osmand's hand scrambled for the small communicator in his robe pocket. The dimensional transporter system the Skorr employed could get them back to the ship in a split second if needed.

But a calmness came over him. No, this was right. This was the time.

"It will be okay," he told Sirona as he led her to the stage.

Forcas smiled as they took the steps up to him. He motioned each of them to stand on either side of him.

He turned to Osmand, his deep voice now soft, "I believe you have the ability to take us from this place."

Osmand felt a momentary blade of fear pierce him, but then like a cool desert breeze it was gone. He nodded.

"But why should I do so?"

"We both want to speak away from this crowd, do we not?"

Osmand smiled. "I take it a little showmanship is in order?"

Forcas let a grin cross his face. "I suspect you have on occasion used such contrivances to further your ends."

Osmand tapped the communicator in his pocket. "Whenever you're ready."

Forcas returned his attention to the crowd. "These two come from worlds beyond." He reached up and slid the hood off Sirona's head. Her Romulan features caused the crowd to gasp in unison.

"Fear not, these be friends... brothers. And now as I had told you, I must go."

Murmurs filled the hall.

"I will ascend to the stars until the ancient ones return. And on that day I will walk among you again and all will become new!"

He glanced at Osmand. "Now."

In the twinkling of an eye, they were gone.

***

An hour later, Osmand stood outside the isolation chamber on his orbiting ship. He'd asked Sirona to find out as much about their guest as possible before speaking to him again. Aside from that, he wanted a chance away from Forcas, fearing his mind might have been tampered with.

A little caution wouldn't do any harm. He would have time enough to celebrate later, if indeed this man was as he appeared.

Sirona turned to him. "I am finished."

"And?"

"He is not a shapeshifter, nor is he transmitting any mental frequencies which could sap our will from us."

"And what if he were simply fulfilling what we already wanted?"

She frowned. "I don't understand."

"Just idle musings on my part," he said with a smile. "Is he an energy being inhabiting that body?"

"No. We detect only one personality present." She put her hand on his arm. "Set your fears aside, Janus. He is as he appears to be."

"My dear, none of us is as we appear. We all hide something from the rest of the universe."

"You sound like a Romulan," she said with a grin.

"We are all Romulans... and all Humans... and even, all Klingons." he touched the door control. "It is time we had our talk with him."

They entered the small chamber. Forcas sat in the lone chair, his eyes closed.

"Excuse the interruption," Osmand said.

"No apologies are necessary, friend Osmand. I appreciate the opportunity to mediate in so quiet a place." He opened his eyes and gave them a smile. "I take it we are above my world?"

"Yes. You are aboard our spacecraft."

"Once my people built such vessels, though from the few records I have seen, none as elaborate as this." His smile faded. "But you have questions."

"How did you learn of those you call ancient ones?"

Forcas leaned back in the chair. "Three years ago, I was searching for a... it is called a falrepa... a small animal we raise for food. Several had gotten loose through a break in the fence on my family's farm. We found them all save one. I went looking for it and came across a cave in the nearby mountains. Inside, I discovered a chamber of metal. I touched a glowing panel and a figure appeared before me like none I had ever seen before."

"The Ancient Progenitors," Osmand said, his heart racing.

"It spoke in an odd language, but it motioned me forward. I stepped onto the platform where it stood and lost consciousness. When I awoke, I learned three days had passed." Forcas grinned. "But something had changed me. I understood so much about myself and my world, and more importantly, about where we had all come from. I had to spread this message to everyone I could."

"Could you show me this chamber?"

"Unfortunately, a that section of mountains collapsed a year later during a quake. I could show you the area if you'd like."

"See if you can locate it and take some scans," Osmand said to Sirona. "And find some regular quarters for our guest."

Forcas stood. "I do not want to simply be a guest, Janus. I would very much like to help you."

"Help us?"

"The Ancient Progenitors are returning."

Osmand and Sirona looked at each other. "How? They all died on Hel'yra."

Forcas shook his head, as if trying to remember something. "I'm not sure. So much of my new knowledge... I find it hard to understand. But I do know they plan to come back to us."

"Well, we will discuss this more later. For now, you should rest."

Osmand and Sirona left the chamber. In the corridor, Sirona turned to him.

"Do you think it's possible? What he said?"

"In a sense they have. When they seeded the galaxy they returned in us." Osmand shook his head. "I think we should do our best to understand this knowledge the Ancient Progenitor machine gave him. We might find some useful information."

"So he is staying with us?"

"Until he decides he wants to return to his planet, yes."

As Sirona walked away, Janus hoped that day would never come. Who better to give the reins of this movement to than a man who had been given the knowledge of the Ancient Progenitors?

Deep within, Janus Osmand knew Forcas had been sent to him. Together they would change the galaxy.

***

Several hours later, Forcas sat on the bed in his new quarters, meditating. But he wore a constant smile on his face.

A whisper escaped his lips, "I will prepare the way for you. Come my friends, come."

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Dark Horizon Story and Characters Copyright ©2008 Michael Gray

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