"The Sacramento Bee and the San Francisco Call reported the first sighting on November 18, 1896. Witnesses reported a light moving slowly over Sacramento on the evening of November 17 at an estimated 1,000 foot elevation. Some witnesses said they could see a dark shape behind the light. A witness named R. L. Lowery reported that he heard a voice from the craft issuing commands to increase elevation in order to avoid hitting a church steeple. Lowery added "in what was no doubt meant as a wink to the reader" that he believed the apparent captain to be referring to the tower of a local brewery, as there were no churches nearby. Lowery further described the craft as being powered by two men exerting themselves on bicycle pedals. Above the pedaling men seemed to be a passenger compartment, which lay under the main body of the dirigible. A light was mounted on the front end of the airship. Some witnesses reported the sound of singing as the craft passed overhead.
• The November 19, 1896 edition of the Stockton, California Daily Mail featured one of the earliest accounts of an alleged alien craft sighting. Colonel H. G. Shaw claimed that while driving his buggy through the countryside near Stockton he came across what appeared to be a landed spacecraft.Shaw described it as having a metallic surface which was completely featureless apart from a rudder, and pointed ends. He estimated a diameter of 25 feet and said the vessel was around 150 feet in total length. Three slender, 7-foot-tall (2.1 m), apparent extraterrestrials were said to approach from the craft.
• The mystery light reappeared over Sacramento the evening of November 21. It was also seen over Folsom, San Francisco and Oakland later that same evening and was reportedly viewed by hundreds of witnesses."
. . . .
Daryl felt he had dozed all night, rather than slept. He seemed to be at war with himself, his blankets, everything...thrashing about and unable to get comfortable. He'd considered the dam'd pipe but was weary of it as well...if only he could have a night of natural rest!
And so, whilst thinking that he couldn't sleep, and never slept, he dreamed...
. . . .
'You're doing fine, Daryl.' It was Yeats.
'You! Where have you been? Shane, I just wish you would meet, speak with me in Real Time...' Daryl felt but a cog in a wheel and had no idea where that wheel was headed.
'It's tiring, all this...dimension-hopping...'
'You'll live.' Yeats half-smiled. 'Now you know how it feels, eh?' Yeats sighed. 'Ah, it's good to be retired!'
'No.' Daryl didn't like the sound of this. 'No, Shane. I am not your 'replacement!'' He groaned inwardly. 'I have no idea what is going on...I need some clarification on things.'
'Such as?'
Daryl hardly knew where to begin. 'Everything! You act as though I know what I'm doing! I don't! What is going on, man? Specifically.'
'I'm here. Ask whatever you wish to know...'
'Alright. What of John and Morgana? For that matter, what of Drake and Sarah? Or Emlyn's father? Where are they? Are they gone? Will they return? What am I to do with Emlyn and Jack? What of Gwydion and the Sidhe? Will there be retaliation? Oh, gods, man...I'm reeling from it all, I can't think, I can't sleep...'
'You're asleep now.'
'I don't feel like I'm 'resting' at all, dammit!' Daryl was beside himself. Literally, if he knew. 'And what is going on with Axelis and this Warship? War, where, with whom? What is the Others' plan? What of the High Council? I certainly don't wish to be on their bad side...'
'Ah. Well.' Yeats paused. 'Let me just sum up the workings of the universe as terse as possible'...' he eyed Daryl with a jaundiced eyebrow. 'I can perhaps answer some of these concerns...as to the rest, quen sabe? Much is still 'in the lap of the gods', as it were...' Yeats touched Daryl with his mind and sent a wave of peace upon him, and Daryl felt, at last, some quietude still his racing thoughts.
'Better.' Yeats nearly came close to an eyeroll. 'Now. How to put it in a nutshell... We, the League, are, taking the middle path, you might say. We stand somewhere between the Others, and the High Council. We are not acting against the Council, truly...we simply are following...an alternate, somewhat parallel path.
'They insist upon absolute non-interference; wisely, considering some of the karma which was incurred aeons ago with humankind, on Terra. They do not wish to make the same mistakes.
'The Others, have some allies, from that time; old Lyrans and Pleiadian renegades, Atlanteans, et al, who have joined up with them for their own ends. We, and the High Council, as well as the Galactic Alliance, of course, are all taking the same stand: against the machinations of the Others and their endless wars and enslavement of Terra and their plans for ultimate control of the planet.'
'Yes...but, it's still rather vague, Shane. Your plan, the League's, is genetic manipulation. That will incur some karma, neh?'
'Oh, hai. Probably. But, at this critical juncture, considering the Time, it's something we are willing to shoulder. We need our people, our kindred, and descendents, to awaken. To be able to at least put up a fight, to save themselves.' He paused. 'The Sidhe, Thelene, Anara, are with us on this.'
'Alright, alright...I can see that.' Daryl paused; there was something he'd just missed, but couldn't quite grasp it now...
'I don't see all of it, or understand it all, but, your hearts seem to be in the right place,' Daryl conceded.
'That's what it's all about, my friend. The heart...'
. . . .
Daryl found himself then, wrapped up in a mist...as he felt his way through this foggy world, he heard a familiar voice:
'I'm here, my love...'
'Anara?--Where...?' And then, there she was, beside him, smiling, and they reached for one another. 'Oh, how I've missed you!' Daryl's eyes filled with tears of exhaustion, of confusion, of want, of love... 'It's been so long, love...I nearly went wild from never seeing you, having you with me...'
'I'm always with you, beloved. Your own thoughts get in the way. It's been a trial, of late, but, now is the time for rest, Anara's gentle touch was like a warm, soothing balm of some all-healing herb upon his shattered senses.
'I fear that Yeats has given me his mantle...what am I to do with Emlyn, your sister? And, Axelis! I, I do not wish to go against his wishes in anything I do! So much weighs heavily upon me...'
The fog lifted somewhat, and Daryl saw a wan sun now shining upon a strand of beach; his hearing cleared and gentle waves could be heard yonder... Anara took his hand and led him along the warm sands.
'You are, perhaps, taking too much upon yourself, my love. No, misunderstand me not! You have done bravely and well!' She regarded him with her gaze, like pools of deepest cobalt which he could fall into...gladly.
She looked out to sea, 'Emlyn and Jack are their own masters. They have their own roads to walk. Act from the heart, not the head. Do not endeavor to control, or to impose your way upon them.
'But yes,' she smiled and glanced aside at him, '...it would not be a bad thing to 'take a break' as you say! And, to caution them, is no imposition, my love...'
She turned to him, and as he enfolded her in his embrace, he sensed a deep warmth long missed, as he felt himself melting into her, and she, into him...
'Rest, now...we'll soon meet again...'
. . . .
Emlyn was up early the next day...and installed herself in the library, appropriating a table for her home-made pressurized coffee-maker, and a sketch book, pencils, pens, rulers and a compass. She'd amassed several volumes of the Van Horns' books and, most tellingly, had Daryl's topographic maps and gazetteer front and center, studying it and sipping her brew with focused intent.
Thus did Jack come upon her as he passed the library and his nose led him within, pursuing the enticing aroma of fresh espresso...
'Good morning. And, what have you here, Em?' He gazed with casual interest at Emlyn's commandeering of his table and etceteras.
'Umm...help yourself to espresso, Jack! It's just a small pressurized setup I based upon a sister machine I put together back at Nob Hill...' she pulled a lever and the machine sputtered into life, depositing a thick, black brew into Jack's cup.
'Grazie.' Jack added a splash of almond milk and took a sip, nodding. 'Quite good! Ah...rather strong...' he added more 'milk' and came around behind Em's seat and glanced over her shoulder. 'What...are you mapping out here?'
Em smiled at him, then smoothed out the large, detailed map before them. 'I believe this is the general area of Guano Acres...see? I've circled, in pencil, never fear!' she twirled her compass,'--where Jethro and Homer's place is-- here...'
Jack straighted, sipping. 'Don't let Uncle Daryl see you with that.' He sighed. 'You can't fool him, Em. And, really, he needs some peace and rest for awhile...' Jack sat in one of the handy armchairs, facing away from the windows.
Emlyn sighed in her turn, and closed the gazetteer over the map, and swept her accoutrements into the desk drawer.
'I suppose...' she leaned forward and pulled another cup of ebony brew. 'Ah, that's the stuff! T'ick as the devil's ankles, so it 'tis!' She sat back in her chair with satisfaction.
'This, I must admit, is one of the things I shall miss about the City...Oh, the wonderful Italiano cafes and the smell of roasting garlic and espresso! Bellissima!' She kissed her fingers and made a gesture of benediction.
'...The absinthe cafes I can do without, however...'
She paused and gazed out the windows at the bright morning. 'I shall also miss Madame Yvanna...' she smiled at Jack, '...but, the Madame is hardly one for vegetarian cuisine.'
Jack studied Em, quietly for a moment. 'Emlyn, about last night, I...'
'Oh, Jack, no need to explain!' She crossed her legs, and waved a dismissive hand. 'I, you know, I simply wanted to let you know...well, how much you still mean to me, Jack; to us all, and that I, we, worry about you.
'I understand, that you are still struggling with, well, everything you're undergoing now, physical changes...everything...' Em drifted off... 'I only wished to assure you, you know, that you are cherished, Jack. We, we care for you here, deeply.' She cleared her throat. 'All of us.'
Jack said nothing for a moment, considering the previous evening...and recalling that Emlyn had walked with him upstairs to their rooms...she had taken his hands and then embraced him and told him how much he had been missed, but...when she attemped a kiss...somehow, he felt himself back away from her...
'Emlyn...I, I realize that, in the past, we were, intimate with one another. Please do not feel slighted now! But, you see,' Jack sighed once more, 'I am not the same man that I once was. I am relearning...how...how to be human, once more.'
Emlyn looked down, blinking unbidden tears back. How silly, to feel so...rejected! Of course, the poor man was hardly up for any intimacies. 'Yes, Jack, I do understand. Please don't think I'm suggesting...anything! I, we, often would kiss goodnight, is all...' Em finished lamely.
'You have had such a stressful time, I, just wished to offer...reassurance...'
Jack smiled then. 'Emlyn...please don't hesitate to 'reassure' me thus! I would be most pleased.'
He reached behind him and pulled the drapes together, shutting out some of the bright sunlight. 'Ah...' the creases smoothed from his forehead then. 'I think I need some darker lenses...too bright for day, still...I find myself constantly at odds with my environment. It can be...distressing, somewhat.'
He noted Em studying him intently. 'I wear shaded lenses, directly upon my eyes, Em. Contact lenses, they're called. Needed, during daylight, now.'
Just then, Daryl poked his head into the library. 'Alright? How's everyone this morning?' He sidled into the room and studied Em's gazetteer with a wary eye.
'Coffee, Daryl?' Em made magic with her machine once more and served up a steaming cup.
'Hmm. Grazie.' he poured the almond milk in and pointed to the machine. 'Do not get...anything, on my books and papers! --Some librarian!'
'These items are not antique in my time, Daryl! We can replace these locally, even! No worries...besides, do you see anything even near the coffee-works? No.' Em huffed.
'Yes. Well. Perhaps you all should get some...fresh air or do something other than study maps and plans for gallivanting for guano...' he eyed them darkly. 'I'm watching you!'
He took up the maps and papers on the table and unlocked a glass case, stowing them within, and locked up, pocketing the small key in a vest pocket.
'Lovely day for a gallop!' He turned round, regarding them. 'Why don't you both take a ride? Boreson's here now...Pancho...and you need to exercise Trotsky, Jack.' He finished his coffee, set it on the desk. 'Off with you, then! Avanti!' He made sweeping gestures with his hands and then exited the room.
Jack was smiling his crooked grin and rubbed his chin thoughtfully: '--Shall we?'
. . . .
Emlyn rode her dear old harassable Pancho whilst Jack took his trusty Trotsky ahead of them on the trail out of town...
Em was fairly bouncing with java-fueled energy and the fresh air of a new day, although only January, it felt like spring already. The wind was in a new direction and change was in the air.
She eyed Jack ahead of her...it was not the same between them. He, was not the same Jack. And no wonder...Em felt to blame somehow; for what, though? Should she shadow Jack, and battle Morgana for him? She knew she couldn't see Jack entirely innocent in all this. And she banished the thought immediately as unworthy. He certainly hadn't asked to be used thus, and nearly killed... She felt a lump in her throat to see Jack, so lost, sometimes, her Jack...
She would see him well and whole again, she vowed.
And, she had better never again see Morgana.
Jack wore his wire-rimmed sunshades atop of his dark contact lenses, and with a broad brimmed dark hat, fared well enough under the ferocious glare of a winter sun...
Odd enough weather, even without the journey back from Otherwhere, bethought he to himself. Ah, which Jack are we now, he enquired to himself? He hardly knew...
It was good to be aboard Trotsky, and off into the countryside...the old Jack felt reassured by the familiarity of this, whilst the new Jack, the 'improved' Jack, thought it a novel pastime and took in the experience and cataloged it for further perusal and study; meanwhile registering the various sensory perceptions and assorted audio barrages both jarring and sublime...
He'd felt sorry for the previous evening's debacle; clearly Emlyn had expected some, reunion of sorts, perhaps of an intimate nature. Somehow, with all that had happened, Jack could not respond, especially, to the advances of redheads... It was a problem.
Oddly, although a part of him regretted this, another part was utterly removed from it, and Em. He was fairly consumed with simply...being.
It was a brave new world, indeed. He'd been reborn. He felt such a rich, vast consciousness...part of this amazing planet and beyond, reaching, where? Were there limitations to the universe? How fresh the air...he breathed deeply...
He cared not for the person he had been. Today, who he was Now, that was all that mattered...
By early afternoon they were resting and munching apples near the river, letting the horses rest and graze awhile.
'So, you see, Jack, I'm thinking of moving out of the City and into the foothills now. I can't bear city life any longer...to visit, it's alright, but, I need space, clear air, green growing things, and quiet! Except for bird song...'
Jack studied his apple, and fed the core to Trots. Em did the same for Pancho and found the gesture appreciated by their faithful beasts.
'I feel much the same, Em. Even more so now...I can't imagine living in a big city. Odd, though...' he paused, wondering how much he should disclose...
'Yes, Jack?' Em prodded.
'Well, it's just...I don't wish any of you to take this the wrong way, but, my life before Now, seems rather...' he gazed off over the rushing river, '...obscured. Like, something I read in a book, rather than experienced.' He picked up some rocks and tossed them one by one toward the pools near shore.
'But I don't want this to alarm or distress anyone, because, you see, Em,' he looked at her with his dark reflective lenses which gave him the appearance, indeed, of a man apart, 'I, feel wonderful now! Most of the time. My senses are heightened, and well, just being alive is such an adventure! It's like childhood returned, I suppose...' he smiled, and Em saw a little of The Old Jack in his crooked grin.
'I just don't wish to upset others. But, me, I'm fine with the changes... Most of any problems stem from, not wishing to alarm anyone.'
Emlyn studied Jack; and realized he was 'her' Jack, no longer... But, that was well, too. He wasn't the only one who had changed...
'Oh, Jack...just let us know these things! We're rather used to, you know, oddities! We'll get used to things.' Em lobbed a stone or two, 'I feel I have changed, also, so you aren't alone in that.' She paused a moment.
'Last night, I...I was reprising our familiarity, I suppose, just for some reassurance, myself. I confess, I seek some familiarity when re-adjusting to the New...as Daryl noted.'
They sat silent awhile, listening to the river's voice and bird sounds, hawks calling as they wheeled gracefully above... Jack stirred again, 'I...don't know when or if, I can respond to intimate touch now, Em. No, I know you...don't mind, but you did say, to let you know how I feel, yes?' Em nodded with a small smile of understanding.
Jack sighed, 'I don't remember much about Before, especially regarding my abduction; I think I've tried to block alot out...especially regarding...Morgana.' He made a bitter face. 'But, I was used, Em. And discarded, after. Like an animal...' he swallowed, looking grim. 'I think...the experience, left a mark on me.'
Emlyn frowned, blinking back tears; she couldn't bear thinking of
Jack, at the Tempest's mercy, surrounded by madness... 'Of course it did! Our poor Jack...' She put a tentative had on his shoulder and patted it gently, then withdrew. 'Don't think about it if you'd rather not. Put it out of your mind, and concentrate on Today.'
Damn that Morgana! Emlyn didn't think she was one for revenge, but she hoped that evil witch would meet her karma soon, in spades...and far from here.
Just then, they heard a noise coming from above.
'...Jack? What, what IS that?' Emlyn pointed above the treetops to the west.
Jack attempted to focus. 'I'm not sure, a dirigible, perhaps?'
For that was what, indeed, it appeared to be: football shaped, with a gondola suspended beneath. Propellers at either end, and sputtering along at a low rumble.
'An airship!' Emlyn stood up, shading her eyes as she gaped at the thing. 'Oh, Jack! Oh, if we only had camera apparatus with us! Where are they headed, I wonder?'
'And where do they come from?' Jack enquired, standing beside Em and pulling his hatbrim down as he snuck a sidelong glance skyward, squinting...could this be THE Airship Jack wondered?
It was the right time frame...1890's...
Em patted her pockets, 'Oh, for a spyglass! I would see that flyer up close, so I would!' Em turned as it sailed past them to points unknown. 'It appears to be headed east, toward the mountains...I hope it makes it over the Sierra alright. Did it come from San Francisco, I wonder...?'
The companions turned as one, following the track of the airship until it was lost to view.
Emlyn turned and beamed a smile to her old friend...
'A brave new world, indeed, Jack!'
. . . .
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