Setting: USS HATHOR, Storage Bay
Lea stopped and looked around the storage bay after stepping in. Her
conversation with David had left her a little frazzled and the CMO
needed time to get her mental footing back.
At times David could be so gentle and understanding that Lea could not
help but smile. Other times he was just plainly too stubborn for his
own good making the CMO wish for nothing else but to be away. True
David had seemed quite different since his return from the dead. Still
there were sides of him which still needed time to be understood by David
himself. For that he needed time alone and away from distractions,
such as the CMO. On a ship as small as the HATHOR it had not been easy to
avoid the CEO. Or anyone else for that matter so Lea had to seek her
escape somewhere else.
Without saying anything to anyone, Lea approached the table where the
unclassified crystals were being kept. Carft had been busy on the
bridge beaming in a great number of these crystal. What astounded the CMO
the most though was that all of the crystal all looked exactly the same.
Their shape, their size, everything about them was identical to the
others. How the race who had created them had been able to tell them
apart had been just another mystery.
Lea carefully took hold of a random crystal with the safety glove that
had also been on the table. Triggering the memories contained within
while standing had been an unsafe proposition. So a system had been
set-up which gave the CMO the chance to get to a chair before hand.
Once sitting comfortable, Lea removed the glove and looked down at the
crystal lying on her lap. Maybe, if the CMO was lucky, the crystal
might give her an insight in David as well as this unknown society.
Stardate: 60333.1430
Lea found herself in the same room atop the tower. The walls, tables and chair though appeared to be decades older then when she had first seen them. Some of the furniture the CMO had seen the first time had become nothing more than rubble on the floor. The state of the stones which made up the walls also gave hints of the amount of time that had passed.
The inscription on the wall had not moved though. The only difference having been that dust had gathered blocking most of the inscription. Lea ran her hand over the plaque, cleaning it and revealing the same strange writing. Although the CMO had not known the language Lea had again been able to read it.
=-=*=-=
I was born of fire
Gave way to water
Rose to become air
To fall upon the earth
For I am thrice born
And tomorrow I shall die
But for tonight
I shall live
Forever!
=-=*=-=
Lea smiled softly. Reading that poem seemed to bring in her an inner peace that she rarely felt. No longer thinking about what had happened before, the CMO turned to the marble pedestal. The large leather bound book was still there, its pages yellowed by time.
As it had happened before, Lea looked upon the unknown language and heard a man's voice speak the written words. His voice had sounded much older, and sadder than she could have ever expected.
=-=*=-=
The road to despair is long and dreary
and those who travel it tired and weary.
I am trying to traverse its winding ways
though I feel I will be here till the end of my days.
Loneliness is the quickest way
to find that road and forever stay.
So sick and tired of standing alone
I can feel it in my every bone.
Just like a sickness gnawing away
or like a river eroding the clay.
It finds its way into every crease
and you begin to think it will never cease.
No one to share the pain with,
and all your memories are like a myth.
No matter how hard you try, the memories remain,
and that causes an even greater pain.
One day I'm sure I'll fight my way free,
but I don't know how long I'll be.
=-=*=-=
Lea looked out through the openings of the tower and saw the ocean. The once clear water had turned a murky, sickening colour. Something had indeed happened, not only to the author of these poems but to the world in general. Had the writer been a willing observer of what had happened? Had he chosen to stay atop this tower all these years?
The CMO looked around the small room once again and doubted so. No one, not even the most devoted of poets would live like this on purpose. Whoever this man had been, he had been forced to remain in this tower. This place had not been where a poet had shed away the layers of being a man. The tower had been a prison where a man had lost everything to become a poet.
=-=
Lt. J.G. Lea Summers
And
Chief Medical Officer 2005 post #597
Tiffany Rose {lady_tiffany_rose@mail.com}
Chief Medical Officer
USS ANUBIS
USS HATHOR