The Meeting

[Michael]

I hope that no one minds if I post this treat for comic book lovers and behave a bit shamelessly in the process. It is the revised version of the first chapter of T-Bird, what the author—my friend Dan—and I call a "superhero fantasy."

The revision is a drastic change from the published version, I admit, but I’m not lying when I say it needed it. I tried to accomplish the goals I had for rewriting Pure Intensity, such as organizing and maintaining character POV, cleaning up redundancy, etc.

On the other hand, T-Bird had other problems too. Maybe one day in the far future, I’ll post the published version or add it to my Web site for comparison. I will refrain from that for now, since that would be pushing it.

T-BIRD

:The Chosen One

By

Daniel C. Henderson and Michael Southard

The hills of western Maryland rolled on toward the horizon. Stars glinted above the tree line as Sergeant Mark Gordon reached the top of the hill. Using his camouflaged sleeve, he mopped sweat from his forehead, then noted his surroundings.

Private Joe Mack climbed up the hill and halted behind Mark. A moment later, Ken Knight appeared as well.

They’re still slow, Mark thought.

He dismissed it and ordered the men to drop their gear.

Joe grunted and said, "Thanks, Sarge."

Mark ignored that too and removed his own equipment. The halt was not exactly according to standard procedure but he knew his companions were exhausted.

Mark Gordon was not as tired because he was different from most people.

Sometimes that worked to his advantage. However, that was not always the case. Mark recalled several times in the first two years of service when he had pulled extra duty simply because his superiors knew he could do it.

"Ken, radio our position to HQ," he said. "I thought we were supposed to meet the rest of the squad on this ridge."

If anyone had miscalculated, including Mark, then he wanted to know. Even if he was not tired, he was hungry and missing chow was not an option.

Ken sat on his rear and tried to lean against a tree, as had Joe nearby. He had to twist around and untangle the radio first.

Mark shook his head in disbelief.

As Ken began to transmit, Joe stood up and stretched.

"Cougar, this is Crazy Fox," Ken said into the handset. "Come in . . . over."

"What the hell?" said Joe then. "Sarge, did you see that?"

Mark looked in the direction Joe indicated and saw a bright flash of light over the next ridge.

"I see it now. Hey, Ken? You get through yet?"

"No, Sergeant," Ken replied. "I’m still trying."

"Forget it then. Pick up your gear, both of you. I want to know what that light was."

"Are you sure about that?" Joe argued. "Don’t we need back up?"

Mark shook his head. If he were correct about the light in the valley, no amount of support would matter.

"No, let’s just go . . . but keep your distance. Stay behind me and follow my directions."

Ken and Joe gave Mark odd looks but obeyed regardless. The sergeant knew how much they trusted him.

The three soldiers gathered their gear and then, weapons in hand, descended the mountainside in a rush.

~*~

Once they were in visual range, Mark realized that he had been correct. There was a large glowing object in the valley. He knew what it was immediately, so he ordered Joe and Ken to find cover.

Mark scanned the area from the top of the knoll, wondering what to expect. In the valley below, he saw a spaceship with an oval-shaped base and a dome-like cap, large enough for one or possibly two occupants.

Memories of the past rose unbidden in his mind.

It can’t be, Mark thought.

"It looks like a spaceship," Joe said. He seemed tired.

"No kidding, stupid. I wonder if we’ll see . . . any . . . aliens . . .?" Ken added, and then fell asleep.

Beside him, Joe was ready to say something more when he also passed out.

Mark did not waste effort wondering why he remained conscious. He had known he was different for years. Now he had to know if the mysterious visitor inside the craft was a friend—or an enemy.

About twenty minutes passed and nothing happened. Then Mark heard a noise in the direction of the ship. He searched the valley below for the cause.

An opening appeared on the side of the object and an alien creature emerged. It had a human face covered with white and brown feathers and it wore a black and gold uniform.

As the creature stepped through the portal, Mark knew him instantly.

Thesis?

The birdman looked directly at Mark at the summit. Then he smiled and sent a telepathic message.

-Mark, it is good to see you. Do not stand there—come down!-

Mark climbed down the hill to welcome his old friend, a member of the species he knew as the Thunderbirds.

"Thesis, it is you," he said. "It’s been a long time. Why are you here?"

"I’ve been looking for you," said Thesis. "I would have come out sooner but you had others with you. Should I explain to them how you know me?"

"They’ve been sleeping for half an hour. What took you so long, Thesis?"

"I had to ensure they were deep in trance first. How is everything in the Army?"

Mark crossed his arms. "You did not come all the way from Exor to chat. Why are you here?"

"Mark," Thesis began, and became serious at once, "we need your help again. Better yet, you need ours."

"What do you mean?"

"I do not have time to explain, but Earth is in danger. I need you to come with me to Exor—now."

The sergeant’s uncanny intuition flared. Thesis would not lie about this.

"Since you put it that way, let me get my things."

"Mark, when you return to Earth, you will not need anything again."

Mark shook his head and followed the alien into the ship.

Here we go, he thought.

~*~

Thesis commanded the ship to disengage the faster than light drive system.

Mark grew impatient as they neared Exor—a planet he knew was far from home in space and time—and demanded an explanation.

"Still the same," said Thesis, laughing.

"Come on, Thesis. Tell me something. You haven’t said a word for the whole trip."

Apparently, the birdman understood and respected Mark’s need.

"It’s Carl," he said. "The first time you met him, he had only recently manifested his powers. Soon you will discover that he is more determined than his father was. Now he has only two goals: Kill you and rule the universe—beginning with Earth—like his father before."

"Thesis," Mark said, "I stopped Calidor when I was a teenager. Now I’m a grown man. If Carl thinks he can conquer Earth, then let him try."

"You do not understand. Carl is half-human like me, which makes him stronger than his father—and many times as deadly."

A hybrid? Mark wondered. He twitched in his seat. That means the Council must have an ace somewhere.

"Okay, so he’s a hybrid. That does change things, but you sound like you want to talk me out of this."

"Mark, I consider you a good friend, as did my father—"

"Thanks for your concern. I’ll be fine."

"I think you should know what you must confront, although the Council does have a special plan for you."

"I figured that when you said Carl was a hybrid. I’m strong—but not that strong. What is it?"

"It is the Council’s place to tell you, Mark—not mine. I am sorry." Thesis paused, and then he said, "We have arrived."

This was more ominous. Mark knew that an ancient prophecy about the "Chosen One" was the foundation for Exor’s government. He also knew that the Council, Thesis, and others believed that he—Mark Gordon—was the Chosen One. He had met the Thunderbirds as they searched for him when Calidor tried to invade Earth with his evil clones.

Was there more to the prophecy that they had not revealed?

The spaceship stopped without audible direction from Thesis—which demonstrated the advanced technology of his people. Thunderbird computers operated ships with few commands from the pilot. Orders were often telepathic as well.

Thesis stood and approached the hull without waiting for Mark. A hole opened in the wall and he stepped through it onto the landing platform, where three Thunderbirds waited.

Mark jumped from his seat and followed Thesis, feeling neglected.

"Mark," said Thesis, "my friends will direct you to your quarters. The Council will convene within the hour."

You are so hard, thought the soldier.

He looked around then and remembered.

"Thesis," he said. "I—can’t help thinking about Mary—"

The birdman sighed. "That was a long time ago. I miss her, too."

All the memories, events, and people Mark believed he left behind had returned to remind him of his destiny.

All the people except one very special person, anyway.

Mary—

Would he see his friends again? He could not help thinking about Justin Roberts, as he had occasionally since he joined the Army. Justin had also enlisted soon after Mark did but was stationed elsewhere.

He noted then how the Thunderbirds greeted him with respect—even reverence. The legend of the Chosen One had grown on Exor, and they remembered too. In fact, many Thunderbirds had Earth-centric names, a tradition they had honored for centuries—because of the prophecy.

Mark tried to return the greetings with equal zest, which was easy for him. He always had been proud of himself.

When Thesis spoke again, Mark snapped to attention.

"Mark, the Council will meet soon. Go to your quarters and relax until then. I know you do not want to be late. We can talk later."

~*~

(Continued below . . . um, as soon as it works. Oh, well, I best not keep trying just now . . .)

[Lacedaemonian]

Excellent mate. To be honest this is not my usual cup of tea, but it was very easy to read and the characters were interesting.

[Michael]

Thanks you, Lace. Got to admit, Dan Henderson created all the characters, but I've added some of my own voice to the story.

[koma]

Not bad atall. Have to say that telepathy is not my favourite "thing" in the world, but each to his own. It always throws up too many possible problems for me to consider it in a story.

[Michael]

Thank you, koma. I wish I could have posted the end of the chapter as well, when Mark Gorddon receives the Spirit Rings and becomes T-Bird. I think Dan had a great idea and story to begin with and I enjoyed (most of the time) working on it. Dan seems to have a natural grasp of comic book conventions, as well.