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. Walking 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."
"How is that?" asked Max, trying to
piece together how some old hippy guy on Earth, number one, knew
his name, and number two, was alive when there were absolutely no
signs of human life - anywhere.
"You have done amazing
things, Max. You were top of your class in the university, you were
always honest and driven, and furthermore, you helped - no -
you invented the
technology around which the SSCC program revolves. Have you ever
asked yourself just how you were able to achieve such things?
Furthermore, why it is that you can sleep with only one eye shut,
or why under stress you show incredible strength? How is it that
you had the courage to put your life at risk and test your
invention, coming all the way to a nearly-uninhabited planet with
no previous knowledge that it would have even been here in the
first place?"
"I ask myself a lot of
questions, old man," responded Max. "Questions like, if I am insane
and talking to an apparition of an old warrior that doesn't
actually exist. Or maybe I am dead and I'm in Hell. Did I even
survive the journey from Azul? Crap, anyway, being as I'm speaking
to a ghost - what's your name?"
The man smiled softly, and then lifted
the pipe to his mouth. Putting his forefinger to the bowl, a flame
came out just below the fingernail as he puffed away, procuring
light clouds of smoke and creating a pungent aroma at the same
time.
" Cool trick ," thought Max.
"My name is Draagh,
although I have been known by many titles. I am the first of my
line, one of the Prīmulī, and if you look at
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. Walking 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."
"How is that?" asked Max, trying to
piece together how some old hippy guy on Earth, number one, knew
his name, and number two, was alive when there were absolutely no
signs of human life - anywhere.
"You have done amazing
things, Max. You were top of your class in the university, you were
always honest and driven, and furthermore, you helped - no -
you invented the
technology around which the SSCC program revolves. Have you ever
asked yourself just how you were able to achieve such things?
Furthermore, why it is that you can sleep with only one eye shut,
or why under stress you show incredible strength? How is it that
you had the courage to put your life at risk and test your
invention, coming all the way to a nearly-uninhabited planet with
no previous knowledge that it would have even been here in the
first place?"
"I ask myself a lot of
questions, old man," responded Max. "Questions like, if I am insane
and talking to an apparition of an old warrior that doesn't
actually exist. Or maybe I am dead and I'm in Hell. Did I even
survive the journey from Azul? Crap, anyway, being as I'm speaking
to a ghost - what's your name?"
The man smiled softly, and then lifted
the pipe to his mouth. Putting his forefinger to the bowl, a flame
came out just below the fingernail as he puffed away, procuring
light clouds of smoke and creating a pungent aroma at the same
time.
" Cool trick ," thought Max.
"My name is Draagh,
although I have been known by many titles. I am the first of my
line, one of the Prīmulī, and if you look at
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