Read Online Lives of Future-Past (The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book 1) by S.K. Benton - Free Book Online

Old-Earth Russian literature had certain obstacles to overcome, but it was all about working hard and planning. Then they would have to spend years moving up the ladder – not everyone is born to do that sort of work, but everyone is born with a talent – they just need to discover what it is.
     Frustrated over his lack of success with Jennie, he dropped to the floor, pulling his unorthodox footlocker out from beneath his bed and pressing a combination of numbers on the lock. Opening the top he pulled out a brand-new side space video console and powered it up.
     As the screen flickered to life, a face appeared in the display. An older, aristocratic-looking gentleman, roughly in his 70s, with steel-gray eyes, angular features, short gray hair and a pale complexion was staring back at the lieutenant.
   
    “Father - we arrive soon,” said the lieutenant, with virtually no emotion to his voice. 
 
     

Chapter 5 – Hello, Draagh
          Max stayed hidden behind the fallen log; weapon trained on the interloper, and started to hysterically scream at the newcomer.
     “Who?  --- Who the Hell are… you? Are you from here? Answer me! Don’t kill me! I’ll destroy you! Dammit! Help!”
     The older gentleman chuckled, and then burst out laughing, almost appearing to cry he was so amused.
     “My son, my son…. please put down your weapon before someone gets hurt. I am not here to harm you in any way. I am simply here…. to meet you.”
     Max took some deep breaths and calmed his blood pressure.  He had a tendency to get very riled up in dangerous situations. When he was younger his parents basically forbade him from participating in group-based and/or one-on-one athletic endeavors, as he would get so worked up and competitive that he would injure his opponents and teammates alike.
     Standing up slowly, Max lowered his weapon and gave a long hard look at the man sitting and casually smoking on a pipe. He had fairly long gray hair, a gray beard and mustache that were sporting various braids, and odd, layered black leather clothing. Completing the ensemble was a curiously ornate walking staff that was leaning against the log upon which he was sitting.
     Sighing as if in resignation, Max gave him a sullen look, exhaling as if he had already given up.
     “OK, please, who are you, where are you from and why are you here? I really don’t want to die – yet.”
     Max started to kick the dirt around him as he waited for an explanation from the weird old man.
     “May I stand without you pointing that ridiculous-looking death-stick at me?” queried the visitor, as he moved to raise himself up, albeit slowly. Max shrugged his shoulders, as if saying, sure, why not , and set the weapon back into its holster, but preferring to stay where he was – a good four meters away from the odd man. Waling up to the fire, the visitor gently tapped the contents out of his pipe, and then looked up at the brilliantly lit sky, partially visible off the edge of the natural canopy.
     “My son, we see the stars, but do we really know what they are? Or what the nature is of the universe around us?” The uninvited visitor took a small satchel out of a pocket inside his great leather coat, and put a pinch of something leafy-looking in his pipe.
     “I have come a great distance to meet with you, Maximilianus. By the way, may I call you Max? I think it sounds much better, and as I am considerably long-winded in my speech, perhaps it would be beneficial to all parties involved if I reduced some words by a syllable or two every now and then.”
     “OK, sure,” said Max. “Actually, that’s what everyone called…. hey, just a minute! How do you know my name?”
     The man looked at Max with a kindly expression and said, “Yes, my son. I know your name. In fact, I have known you since you were born.”