Chapter 15 (excerpt)

TRAVELING FASTER than the speed of light, the gigantic saucer magnetically pulsed into a different dimension. The Stargirls beamed through space, unaware someone called Aagaatar, “The Great Evil,” ruled the better part of the Vanngeez galaxy, while a horrifying fiend named Garlig was in command of the Zaagon saucer imprisoning them. Garlig was the Aagaa Zaagon’s Master Torturer—a monster’s monster.

The Stargirls’ earthly innocence was no match for Aagaatar’s vile powers that conspired to control the Stargirl’s lives and destiny. Furthermore, Aagaatar was the evil incarnate that conjured unthinkable horrors to dominate the universe and destroy all that was good. The Aagaa Zaagon Empire was a murderous civilization that interbred with elite members of conquered enemies to strengthen its racial supremacy. Aagaa, named for the evil god Aagaatar was an unholy word uttered in the throes of sex, heat of battle, or curse. It was a paranoid race feared and hated for its perverse genius and legendary cruelty. Their way of life founded on depravity and lust for killing. Random murder condoned, and slaughtering the enemy given the highest reward. Homicide and mass murder was as necessary to the Aagaa as the air they breathed. The Aagaa Death ethos believed superior for domination of the universe.

Black holes were the embodiment of Aagaa philosophy of Thanatos, and they symbolized their destructive superiority that swallowed galaxies, suns, planets, and civilizations. The Aagaa’s invention of Zano warfare marked a new epoch in their conquest of the Vaangeez galaxy. Advanced civilizations fought and fled the Aagaa’s bloodthirsty invasions to survive. The Star people had led the last Star rebellion, the Aagaa Zaagon Empire’s greatest enemy—but now encircled they faced extermination. Abysmally, the military union between the Star people, Etuu, Zataba, Noling, and Trions collapsed, crushed by Garlig’s War of Terror. Regardless, the Star people chose to fight to the death rather than surrender to genocide.

Genocide was on the mind in control of the Stargirls. Their captor craved nothing more than the destruction of all enlightened beings; he viewed them as subversive threats. Advanced civilizations had felt the cleansing wrath of the Aagaa Zaagon Empire, what the Evil Master proclaimed the “Final Solution,” had ingeniously trapped the Star people in the Vaangeez galaxy and laid siege to their defensive outposts, softening them up for the final assault. Now, he wondered why he felt such loathing for the aliens. He ordered them isolated and requested one be brought to him for interrogation. He felt her youth, a weak link to take advantage of—yet, oddly, feared her the most. “Aagaa,” he swore, “Aagaa, Aagaa.” He thought that when the Master finished using them, he would have his way. The sadistic thought made his misshapen mouth spew out black drool. “Aagaa, Aagaa,” he howled. The craving to maim and kill grew uncontrollable as his powerful tentacles engorged with blood flailed the air. Conflicting passions arose— to touch their flesh—that checked his homicidal impulse, driving him to command his Troag guards to bring them all, despite his inspired plan to question the one. He wanted to possess them. He wanted to get up close to touch and smell them, smell their organic juices that gave them life. Garlig let out an ugly laugh; the exotic life forms presaged, his Master’s worst nightmare now stood powerless before him. The Star people’s assassins, sent to save them, would stand in judgment while he probed their vulnerability.

He was the master artist of terror. Inspired by a macabre soul, he covered the canvas of life with mayhem and destruction. Some of his subjects required short rapid strokes to break them, while others long brush strokes of agony to render them a work of genius. Those who failed his artistic vision savagely killed. Anticipation, terror’s handmaid, he manipulated expertly. Mind crippling tools, he plied imaginatively. He used love to create unbearable torture, forcing those he could not break or drive insane to witness loved ones butchered. The whispered threat the aliens represented only fueled the horrors his mind created for them. His blind hatred was a mix of rage and sexual tension. He detested anything that challenged his power. Anything getting in his way was damned. Garlig roared when informed they soon would stand before his reproachful gaze. He sat on the right-hand side of Aagaatar, the highest Aagaa honor for his unrivaled treachery, shocking violence, and daring conquests.

In the meantime, the monstrous beasts prodded the Stargirls toward the command center with avenging blows to their bodies. The beasts, traumatized by Garlig’s torture, had turned their rage on the Stargirls. Jill cried out in pain, “God help them if they’ve harmed Lyn.” They had abandoned close combat, choosing to yield as part of their escape plan. They agreed to act helpless so the enemy would underestimate them, given their defeat by the steely-eyed spiders. They held wing chun, short power, and chow gar, shock power, in reserve. The Stargirls gasped at the sight of Lyn cringing on the floor, her head bowed, holding her arm; feeling relief, they bolted to her; but huge, hairy hands grasped fistfuls of hair, yanking their heads back with neck breaking force, throwing them to the ground. Knees dug sharp into their backs, pinning them to the floor like insects on a spreading board. Mad shrieked angrily, “Get off, mutants.” Her shrill shout created confusion in their minds, fearing attack; but when she lay still, they eased the numbing pressure off her back.

They glanced at their leader for guidance. Nogaa’s piercing red eyes scowled at his warriors, then at the source of his deplorable defeat. His huge brow furrowed, deep scars lining his brooding face, telling of forgotten battles he had buried. Nevertheless, his commanding presence was an immediate antidote for his warriors’ fears. His complexion grew dark; his thoughts searched for an answer to the aliens’ aggression. He knew all their lives depended on him delivering them respectfully to his master. Any sign of alien rebellion would send Garlig into a murderous rage that would rain down on all of them. He hastily made a command decision and kneeled down to the alien nearest him. Nogaa grasped the alien’s chin and tilted her drawn face toward him. He gazed into her insolent eyes and grinned while his eyes begged her for understanding. He patted Mad on the head and grimly went to the next alien and repeated his desperate overture. Once he finished soothing them, he bellowed, “Awago, awa daa diwee ki!” The aliens lifted to their feet, the beasts positioned on each side securing them in arm locks. They staggered forward, feeling mutual misgivings, while the Stargirls considered whether they had misjudged their ruthless captors. Maybe they had more in common with the beasts than met the eye. Maybe they were all prisoners. After all, the massive beast had shown kindness despite their vigorous defense against him. Then again, the beasts’ violence left them guarded.

Garlig’s voice thundered as they entered; the beasts thrust their heads to the floor, making them bow to their master. His deafening laugh and wicked expression smeared on a terrifying face that gripped them. They were ill prepared for what stood before them. Lyn felt repulsion at the incredible sight, a vision of pure horror. Garlig was Herculean in stature with a crude, warped face and one large glaring eye. His phenomenal body glistened with unnatural beauty; two fearsome tentacles coiled from his upper back, while two massive humanoid arms formed a chilling demonic look. The horrifying tentacles undulated threateningly as razor-sharp teeth protruded from huge suckers. Without warning, the tentacles surged toward them, causing them to step back with fists raised in defense. Jill, sensing the inhuman thing played with them, barked, “Lower your guard.” Her swift command saved them from vicious attack. She thought,

Submission . . . the Way of Sun Tzu . . . the backdoor to valor, given what they faced. Jill commanded, “Kneel,” and they meekly kneeled and prostrated themselves in false worship, thus charming the monster’s ego. Garlig choked back black bile, letting out a contemptible laugh that appeased his rage. He gloated at his enemies lying face down before him. He felt exhilaration—he, the elixir of death—as his powerful tentacles reached down and coarsely caressed their recoiling bodies, making them shudder. He withdrew his groping tentacles and gave a signal to the beasts to lift them to their feet. He had come close to disobeying Aagaatar’s strict orders to deliver the aliens unharmed to him. Their deaths would have meant his own.

His rage returned. His homicidal fantasies displaced onto the Troag leader. He lashed out, “Nogaa, you coward, you let these frail aliens defeat your guards.” However, what Garlig feared more was the hex the aliens seemed to cast on him. Never had any life form controlled his emotions and desires as they had, bewitching him with their alien beauty, nearly ruining his plans. Maybe he took them too lightly, he thought as his lip curled—torture-time will tell. He relished toying with his new prey as he outlined how he would use them for his conquest of the Vaangeez galaxy. Although he was usurping the Master’s authority, they were unaware of his treachery. Garlig derisively said, “The ancient prophecy you thought was your destiny is dead. You are not my Master Aagaatar’s worst nightmare. I am yours.” His evil stare bore through them. Infuriated, he shrieked, “Bear witness to your master’s power.” His mighty tentacles lashed out causing piercing thunderclaps, making them drop to their knees and clutch their ears to stop the excruciating ringing. He enjoyed their torment, waiting for them to look up. When they did, he pointed his fearsome tentacle at a strange device. The tentacle swayed hypnotically; suction cups rhythmically opened and closed, baring deadly teeth. The Stargirls mesmerized by the horrifying bizarre spectacle. He gave a command and a burst of energy from the curious device severed the hideous tentacle. Jill felt a glimmer of hope but before the tentacle hit the floor, an incredible light emanated from the stump and instantly regenerated the tentacle before her bewildered eyes. He haughtily swung the tentacle in the air with a horrendous laugh of victory. Ali blinked her eyes, wondering if what she saw was an illusion, or real. Sade felt revulsion. Mad whispered, “Oh, no.” All at once, Garlig’s eye opened wide; his bullwhip tentacles wrapped around Nogaa’s two brothers who screeched in anguish as grotesque teeth tore at their flesh, tentacles whipping them high above Garlig’s head.

He laughed, amused by their screams, and flung the youngest brother into a glowing chamber. He gave a ruthless command while his audience of hairy beasts, creepy-crawly things, and Stargirls watched—in fear, indifference, and stark horror.

​

Chapter 19 (pgs.119-120)

LYN LAY NAKED curled in a fetal position, a bag of skin and bones devoid of consciousness. She was bereft of humanity, comatose-like, drifting in and out of a deep state of unconsciousness, and desperately trying to awaken and remember who or what she was. Alone, she probed a nebulous madness that stripped her of self. She fought a devastating drug-induced coma and amnesia when she abruptly roused.

“What’s happening?

“Where am I?

“Who am I?”

She struggled to find a way back to herself and life. Panic engulfed

her. I lost control—

Control of what? What was it?

A condition of chaotic nonexistence ensnared her. A psychic void of

pitch-blackness—suffocating eternal blackness—only the dead know.

Then emotionally charged memories swirled into her perception—

. . . A mommy breastfeeding a baby . . . a child swinging across the

blue sky on a backyard swing . . . two older sisters laughing and singing,

“Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes we all fall

down!” . . . the fallen consumed by the Black Plague . . .

. . . First love at 16 lost to a best friend . . . a young girl’s heart

broken . . . a boyfriend singing, “Who’s your daddy, who’s your daddy?”

knowing how much she loves her Daddy . . .

. . . a valedictorian speaks out for world peace . . . sultry jade eyes,

brimming with life; closed by merciless cancer . . . secret dreams crushed .

. . a young woman seeks adventure . . . terror . . . terror . . . terror . . .

Controlling images and emotions seized her.

What did it all mean?

What did she lose control of?

What was it?

It struck her, like the sickening bounce of a suicide off concrete. “My mind, my mind!” she screamed. “Oh my God, I’ve lost my mind.” Lyn cried like a baby. She could not remember her name as the emptiness she tried to climb out of closed in around her, leaving her lost in Aagaatar’s house of horrors.

She wrestled to hold onto the wreckage of her mind when blurred faces appeared. She saw an intriguing mouth without a face come closer; it said, “We are Stargirls.” Confused and weak, she mumbled, “S-S-Star—“ and collapsed, while the Stargirls sat like ghosts nearby, imprisoned in their own hell—oblivious to her plight and Aagaatar’s treachery.

Jill mutely stood in the background transfixed by the size and appearance of Aagaatar, who appeared ten feet tall. He was a eunuch, with two powerful arms—one human, the other a horrendous looking black claw. His hulking, muscular body was a brilliant green with bold black streaks. A misshapen predator, she thought, perhaps a product of genetics gone amiss.

Red antennae that bristled at their torment crowned his massive head. His face was bizarrely humanoid, except for his large insect eyes. Protruding from his massive chest were teeth sharp ripsaw that viciously snapped. Jill cringed at the whirring sound . . . imagining it ripping and tearing flesh . . . made to tear a body apart while his soulless black eyes stared through her. A hellish adversary she shuddered involuntarily.

Aagaatar’s acidic voice startled her. “You are my servants sent to fulfill my Final Solution.” He raised his black claw and the Golden Star materialized. “The power of the Universe—naively delivered to me by misguided puppets. When I’m through with you, you will regret you were ever born—” But before he finished, a deadhead collided with Lyn. She saw blood oozing through her sleeve.

“Come, children of Aagaatar, let me show you the fruit of your malignant planet.” He waved his black claw and blinding light descended around them; they vanished. Lyn lost sight of the others while the light swirled around her. Her mind stretched like a rubber band until she felt it would snap—she lost consciousness.

.

Chapter 12, pg. 67-68

Ali shouted, “What in God’s name!” pointing to the ocean horizon where a colossal object hovered.

Lyn screeched, “Jill, toss me your phone. I want to call a friend at NORAD,” but before she could, a terrific boom shook the beach. Involuntarily, she turned toward the deafening sound, stunned by what she saw. The object, now clearly in view, moved closer to the shoreline. It hovered thousands of feet above them, rotating counterclockwise on its axis. Awed, she tilted her head back. Her jaw dropped, and she gaped at the translucent object—a red, ethereal, whirling entity in the white-blue sky, emitting fantastic bursts of energy. A mushroom cloud materialized over the object, forming a massive anvil thunder dome. The thing she thought, at a loss for words, gyrated faster and faster, glowing bright reddish-orange. Pulses of energy surged into the sky and sizzling and cracking lightning struck the ground, causing her hair to stand on end and spark. The Pacific Coast Highway’s sandstone cliffs moved from the force of the sonic boom, causing huge landslides that buried everything. Lyn screamed, “Mad, what’s going on?”

“All I know is that super cell looks deadly,” she replied, as a violent gust of wind bent them over. The sky turned to night as the object’s red glow created a shaft of light that pierced the ocean, causing it to boil. Three bluish-white tornados appeared curling and twisting like poisonous snakes, heading for the beach. Mad let out a shriek, “Get out of here.”

Lyn yelled, “Run for the cottage.”

Mad screamed, “No, take the jeep; we’ll escape south like the birds.” Lyn fumbled and dropped the keys. She grabbed them and slid into the driver’s seat. Jill rode shotgun, and the rest squeezed into the back. Torrential rain beat down as Lyn barreled off the driveway, driving like a maniac. She turned south along the shoreline. Mad glanced back and gasped. The sky turned greenish black as a massive wedge tornado touched down, annihilating everything. Cars, people, and million-dollar homes hurtled through the air as a rescue copter crashed. “Faster… faster or we’re dead!” Mad shrieked. Lyn squinted through blinding rain, as baseball-size hail crashed down. They screamed until their voices gave out, “Go . . . go . . . go.” The jeep hit a rut that blew a front tire, ripping the wheel from her hands, causing the jeep to veer and flip over. Shaken, they helped each other out of the jeep. Jill glowered at the flat tire and said, “Let’s make a run for it.” Mad looked back. “It’s too late.” They hugged goodbye and turned to face their fate. Holding hands, heads high, they courageously faced the wedge of Black Death that swept them away—

Chapter 1

EARTH, CIRCA 2035

Sade sat entranced. She was about to embark on a perilous journey with her cheeky, younger sister, and adventurous cousins that would change their lives forever. She had been haunted since childhood by inexplicable psychic events and ageless questions:

Where did we come from?

Who are we?

Why are we here?

Questions that confounded her young mind until her obsessive thoughts took on a life of their own, as a mystifying premonition emerged into her awareness. Sade’s eyes glazed over. She felt spacey; her body tingled as an intoxicating smell overpowered her—the heady and sweet odor of static electricity. It felt like déjà vu. She tried to speak, but muttered only gibberish. She saw astonishing lights and then a vortex. She felt powerless to resist what called her as a shadowy force swept her away.

*****

The Stargirls exploded out of LAX, Gate-5 like some comic book heroes, Sade crossed the plane’s entryway last, lost in foreboding thoughts, and tripped headlong into the others. Her crash scattered them like dominoes. Unscathed, they chuckled at her faux pas as the flight door hissed shut. BX-1 nicknamed the “Bat Express” for its titanic bat-wing airframe and incredible Mach 3 speed was a redeye flight to Washington Dulles International Airport.

Sade heard the whine of engines as they catapulted off the runway, and oxygen-hydrogen liquid fuel engines blasted them into a vertical climb that pinned them to their seats, feeling twice as heavy as normal. Sudden air turbulence startled Sade. Her tanned, pixyish face blanched to a ghastly pallor.

She tugged at a lock of hair that had escaped her Neptune Trident barrette while her golden brown bangs concealed the paralyzing fear that darkened her eyes and forced her lips to quake. She gazed out her passenger window for some sign of hope but only saw tumultuous, dark skies. Then something peculiar on the angular wing—a red strobe light that seemed to comfort her. Be not afraid.

Bewildered, she rubbed her sea-blue eyes and realized the message was a projection from her subconscious. They were all psychic, but Sade’s abilities were astonishing. She knew her sixth sense told her to relax, while her conscious mind stubbornly refused.

Her psychic abilities could open portals to alternate realities, like wormholes opened gateways to the universe, but tonight fear blocked her second sight—her connection between the realms of Nature and Spirit had been broken.

The intercom crackled with static. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. We are experiencing rough air turbulence. Please keep your seat belts secure and enjoy your flight.” Sade feared the raging tempest, but the captain’s monotone voice terrified her more. She feared wind shear like a giant hand would smash them into the ground.

Disturbing thumps and bumps of hydraulics echoed in her ears like ghostly groans. She stuck her fingers in her ears, trying to banish the haunting metallic noises and bat engine screams. Spooks in the night, she thought, burying her face in moist hands, trying to force the reality of the Wright brothers’ damned invention of flight from her mind. Her efforts were futile, as the horrific image of the Bat liner exploding in a ball of flame consumed her.

Ghosts go away, go away.

She noticed her sister next to her, who played with a Holographic Universe Cube while listening to throbbing music. Mad is different, she thought. Mad felt the Bat liner’s air-battle, too, but felt exhilarated by its frightening ascent. After all, adrenaline-pumping skydiving as a human rocket across indigo skies was her ecstasy. Had she been a bird in a past lifetime? She wondered. She fancied a prairie falcon, falcon mexicanus, with a powerful death dive and a shrill proud cry—kik-kik-kik-kik-kik. She laughed at the outrageous thought that she wired for bird behavior, inheriting DNA from some Jurassic archetype. This quirky idea pleased her.

It reminded her of her space jumps at 130,000 feet, at the razor edge of space, where she body surfed supersonic shock waves at astounding speeds, and trail-blazed the sport of “Celestial Skydiving.”

Known in Xtreme sports as “Sky Dancer,” only her gleaming gold pressure suit and guts stood between her and blood-boiling death. In the twilight sky, her glittering aerodynamic suit made her appear as a shooting star.

Despite her death-defying exploits, she felt the prairie falcon fit her to a T, an excitable bird that harried larger eagles and slower hawks whenever they messed with its nest. She knew the falcon was a fast bird at high altitudes, and a formidable hunter at 300 feet. Birds of a feather, this notion tickled her.

Sade’s eyes had frozen shut; she imagined breathing in calmness with each breath, while exhaling fear. Her white knuckles gripped the arms of the seat, while she struggled to think of anything but flying.

Mad noticed her death-grip. “Sade, are you all right?”

Sade roused from her free fall trance and said, “Do pigs fly? Have you seen pigs orbiting Mars lately?”

Mad tittered at her outlandish come back. “Forget flying; we’re on a historic mission.”

“Yes, but my stomach in my throat makes it hard to appreciate.”

Mad squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, big Sis, the Bat’s doing its thing.”

Sade thought about Mad’s unwavering faith in machines while clutching a talisman dangling from her neck, a small o-mamon that contained the teachings of Buddha’s Noble Eightfold Path. She focused on Bodhi Buddha’s awakening, trying to purge the terror of flying from her mind.

“Sade, when you think about it, life’s funny. You have a doctorate in Biological Oceanography from FSU and explore undersea worlds that would petrify most adrenaline junkies. Yet being airborne gives you the willies. Don’t you think that’s odd?”

Sade rolled her eyes. “Maybe, if I was a cuckoo bird in a former lifetime, and not the killer whale that frequents my dreams, I might feel right at home—but if I were a bird, it would be that daft dodo bird that couldn’t fly to save its neck.”

Mad choked, spitting out her bottled water. “You’re hilarious, despite your fear of flying.”

“Thanks for the complement, I think. Hey, what time do we arrive in Dulles?”

“Don’t know, but I know who does.” Mad reached over the seat and knocked twice on her older cousin’s head.

Jill made a sour face, and said, “Who’s there?”

“Mad.”

“Mad who?”

“Mad about you.”

Jill sighed. “Okay, what do you want?”

“What time do we hit the tarmac in Dulles?”

“Mad! If you had a brain . . . oh, never mind, two-fifty a.m. You, my little whirlwind, need to get a brain.”

Mad scoffed, and made a laughable pirate face with one eye closed. “Ahoy, me hearties, scarecrow and me search for a brain. We merrily skip down a yellow brick road to Doctor Frankenstein’s hangout. I knock hard with a brass-ring knocker on a giant door. The heavy blows send head-splitting echoes into the castle. The door swings open with a loud grating sound. A mad scientist with bloodshot eyes and a wild hairdo lurches outside and I say, ‘ARGH Dr. Frankenstein, I presume. Would you have any spare brains for the needy?”’

Jill snorted, shaking her head. Mad the clown.

Mad, pleased with her preposterous performance, sat down. “We arrive—“

Sade interrupted. “Yes, brainless, I have ears, too, but not as big as yours.”

Mad grabbed her ears. “We’ll see who has the biggest ears. You’ll wish you were that wooden-headed Pinocchio rather than a long-eared mule after I get done with you.”

Sade chuckled at her horseplay. “Lights out, little sister, I’m off to dreamland.”

“Good night, Shorts my lovable pixie. Thanks for being a good sport.”

Sade yawned. “Watch out, Amazon woman, dynamite comes in small packages. That reminds me—do you remember how you towered over your first grade class like a fairy-tale giant?”

“Yeah, those were the good old days.”

“Mad, you’re impossible.”

The Bat liner hurtled through the stratosphere, and disappeared in the ethers of Sade’s slumbering consciousness, while her cousins chattered like overexcited children about their hasty departure.

“Max’s call took me by surprise,” Jill protested.

Ali said, “Caught me off guard, too.”

Lyn cackled and said, “What else, mysterious Max.”

Jill noticed Ali’s reflection in the passenger window and said, “Ali I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s up with the medicine bag you keep fussing with?”

Ali cradled a small pouch in her arms, as if it was her first-born child, and said, “Our totem spirits that will watch over us on our journey in Ethiopia and drive evil spirits away.”

Lyn thought she heard evil spirits. “What did you say?”

“I wanted to bring something special on our expedition to protect us. I asked Sade, and she said ‘pick something that represents our inner power.’ I chose these blood dragon seeds.”

Jill blurted out, “Blood dragon seeds?”

“Yes—to be exact, Dracaena draco, the Dragon Tree, harvested for its supernatural powers. I brought five germinating seeds wrapped in moist peat moss.” She paused, staring at the seeds, and said, “Understand the blood dragon symbolizes our spirits. Seeds of our spiritual blood we will plant in our power spots in the Afar Triangle. Our way of giving Earth Mother an offering that will live beyond us—our spiritual markers to inspire others to walk gently on her.”

Jill said, “Ali, you are a true Earth Woman.”

Ali gazed into the pregnant bag and said, “We love you, so grow big and strong little ones.” Jill and Lyn felt awed by her outlook and choice of good luck charms. Ali continued, “Gee, they smiled at me. They really smiled at me, big happy dragon smiles.”

Jill thought, only a psychiatrist or mystic could understand Ali’s love for dragon seeds. She then tapped Lyn’s hand, “Any word from Max?”

“Funny you asked. Just before takeoff, I got a message from Aqua Man.”

“Great, open it.”

Lyn unfolded a paper-thin microcomputer, from her shirt pocket, that expanded into a pliable touch screen. They stared at the computer screen, wondering about their field dig site. Max’s communications were always encrypted; he used the alias Aqua Man. Max had cautioned from the beginning about the necessity of secrecy, regarding their field digs. His words ran through Lyn’s mind as his e-mail appeared on the screen, accompanied by a soft, compelling audio alert. “Ari, let’s swim together in paradise and share forbidden fruit.” A red apple bobbed on the screen, as the alert repeated until she opened it and saw attachments written in complex mathematical algorithms.

She chortled and said, “Max has the mind of a romantic spy. I think he missed his calling.”

Jill said, “Romantic spy or not, Max is a famous paleoanthropologist, and our gracious sponsor.”

Ali interrupted, “Yes, yes, but what does it say?”

Mad, oblivious to their conversation, listened to the comedy channel, while Sade slipped into REM sleep. Her breathing became rapid, irregular, and shallow. Her eyes jerked in different directions as her heart rate and blood pressure rose. Her limbs paralyzed as a tunnel of light transformed her sleep into a mythical time machine that whisked her away, to a land that existed millions of years ago near Hadar, Ethiopia.

She unknowingly peered into where we came from—yet could only see half the truth of how humans came to walk upon the Earth.

“… Lyn was oddly aware; she was peering into a Star Chamber with gleaming transparent walls that reflected the past, present, and future. Gradually, she realized she was looking into a space-time crystal ball, a cosmic ball she had once gazed into as a small child. She realized they had left their bodies in the mandala’s cavern and had not even noticed. She felt the others but could not see them. She heard Jill’s pleading voice call out,

“Are we dead or alive?”

Lyn tried to respond but could not find her own voice. Mesmerized by the shift in space-time, she realized their nightmare of annihilation was a subconscious projection, a projection of their deepest fears when they pressed the star symbols, not knowing whether they would live or die. Regardless of its reality, she was thankful they survived the killer alien tornado.

Mad, in exasperation, cried out to the unseen force, “Why did you summon us? There must be a reason. Tell us.” She heard a dreamlike voice.

“You are Stargirls.” The voice paused, letting the fog and confusion of their nightmare to lift.

Lyn found her voice, “But why us?”

“You are the chosen ones by prophecy;  you have proven your worthiness. A time warp brought you here. The one you opened was no accident. It was left a hundred thousand years ago just for you. Your Star training as children has prepared you well. You are ready for the next stage in your evolution.” Her disquieting words shifted reality, creating an energy-womb within them, a powerful psychic connection to their puzzling destiny.”

EARTH, CIRCA 2035

Sade sat entranced. She was about to embark on a perilous journey with her cheeky, younger sister, and adventurous cousins that would change their lives forever. She had been haunted since childhood by inexplicable psychic events and ageless questions:

Where did we come from?

Who are we?

Why are we here?

Questions that confounded her young mind until her obsessive thoughts took on a life of their own, as a mystifying premonition emerged into her awareness. Sade’s eyes glazed over. She felt spacey; her body tingled as an intoxicating smell overpowered her—the heady and sweet odor of static electricity. It felt like déjà vu. She tried to speak, but muttered only gibberish. She saw astonishing lights and then a vortex. She felt powerless to resist what called her as a shadowy force swept her away.