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Step on the Sun

  (Council of Three - Book 1)

  Doug Plamping

  Thrown into a hostile galaxy, surviving is only step one

  Copyright 2014 Doug Plamping

  Version 20140616 (remove duplicated scene)

  Chapter 1 – Rescue an Old Man

  The stones hit accurately and painfully. The old man hurried down the Mexican dirt road, trying to get away from the group of kids. Unfortunately, there was an unending supply of ammunition on the road.

  Seeing the old man in trouble, three people ran from the beach, through the cantina, and onto the road. Three young tourists had been walking along the edge of the surf, talking, and cooling off in the waves, when they saw the attack. It was mid-afternoon and they were heading back to their resort after hiking some local trails.

  The tallest of the group was first, shouting, “Vada via! Vada via!” The kids stopped. The man was fit, muscular, and clearly a threat.

  “Paul, I don’t think they know Italian,” Frank gasped as he stopped alongside him. Amy caught up to them a couple of seconds later. The kids took off down a gap between two of the shacks.

  “Yeah, but they got the idea,” answered Paul, laughing.

  They’d got together early in the first week. They were all on a ‘last’ family vacation before they each entered their final year of university. In Paul’s case, that was completing his degree at a military institute. That common circumstance had pulled them together, and they were now friends. They all had a nice tan after a week at the resort. There'd been no interest in boy-girl pairing off yet. Paul was cool, smart, fit, and looked great, as Amy had observed, a result of the fitness training he had every day. Frank was a genius, a little geeky, but he was athletic as well. Amy took on leadership of the group instinctively, and Paul and Frank quietly accepted that leadership.

  Amy knew she was not what the magazines would call beautiful, but she was tall and attractive. “We’d better see if he’s hurt.” Amy led them to the man, and saw that he was very old, and was gasping for breath. He was dressed strangely, all in grey, in something like a monk’s habit from the medieval ages, except shorter. It was tied at the waist with a grey rope, with cloth pants underneath, and rope sandals on his feet. His clothing was worn and in need of either replacement or repairs. He was also carrying a beautiful wooden walking stick covered with intricate carvings.

  Frank and Paul waited for her lead. Amy asked, “Are you OK?” not knowing if he spoke English. She was ready to try Spanish.

  The old man grimaced, and answered in accented English, “I’m fine, just a little out of breath. Thank you for rescuing me.” He looked at them carefully and then asked Amy, “Are there just three of you?”

  Amy answered, puzzled, “Yes, it’s just us three. Our families are back at the resort.” The old man nodded as if that was an important thing.

  He told them, “My name is Simon. I am pleased to meet the three. I have looked for the three for a long time.” Amy couldn’t place his accent.

  Amy did the introductions, “I’m Amy; this is Paul, and Frank.”

  “Why did you stop the children from throwing rocks?” asked Simon.

  “Why?” Amy was puzzled, “It was the right thing to do!”

  “Right! You needed defending!” Paul stated.

  “Charging to the rescue, eh!” Frank agreed.

  Simon then said something in a reverent way, “You are younger than I expected, but Staff was right. I am delighted to meet the three at last.”

  This is weird, Amy thought, and what about this emphasis on ‘three’? That thought was lost as Amy noticed that Simon was struggling for breath. His face was white; he was rubbing his shoulder and chest, and his breathing was shallow.

  Simon gasped, “I think I need to sit down, I feel dizzy. It’s hard to breathe!”

  Amy grabbed one arm and told Paul, “Get his other arm.” They helped Simon across the sand to the cantina, and sat him in a chair, out of the sun, where it was cooler. Frank brought Simon’s walking stick, examining it.

  Amy tried to take Simon’s pulse, and examine him. She had taken advanced first aid courses at the university. “Simon, you’re sweating, but your arm is cold, and your pulse is fast, irregular. I think you could be having a heart attack. Simon, do you understand?” Simon was awake, but didn’t respond.

  Paul checked him as well. “You’re right. This could be a heart attack.”

  Amy realized Simon needed help, more than they could provide. “Frank, we need to get him to a hospital. Run to the store and call for an ambulance.”

  “I don’t speak Spanish,” Frank answered.

  She should have remembered that! “Paul, you’ll have to go.” Paul didn’t question it, he just ran down the dirt road to the store.

  “Frank, help me lay him across some chairs.” Amy took off Simon’s small backpack. She used it as a pillow, and with Frank’s assistance carefully laid Simon’s head on it. Amy saw that Simon’s skin was pale and his breathing was slow and shallow. Some of the people from the cantina were offering to help, but no one was a doctor. She was given a cold bottle of water by the bartender, and borrowed a towel. She wet it, and put it on Simon’s forehead. There was nothing else she could think to do.

  To keep her mind occupied while they waited, Amy picked up Simon’s walking stick from where Frank had put it down. It looked heavy, but wasn’t, and went from about three quarters of an inch wide at the top to maybe an inch and a half at the bottom. It was dark brown, polished without being too shiny or slippery, about five feet long, and covered in an intertwining line pattern except for a center band of small symbols. Beautiful.

  “I don’t like this waiting,” said Frank pacing around. “It makes me feel helpless.” Amy didn’t answer; she felt the same. They both watched Simon’s slow breathing. Frank pointed out that Simon’s backpack was some unusual type of leather, and hand made, but finally lapsed into silence.

  They watched Paul come back down the road to the cantina, where he announced to them and the people in cantina that the ambulance will be here in 10 minutes. Paul quietly told Amy and Frank, “Because I didn’t know if Simon was Mexican, I had to promise them a credit card number when they arrive, otherwise they wouldn’t come.”

  “You should have said he was Mexican,” Frank commented. Amy just ignored him; Frank wasn’t always truthful, and he didn’t see honesty as an issue sometimes.

  As Amy watched Simon, his breathing became slower and shallower. The waiting seemed endless. By the time the ambulance came, it was hard to tell if Simon was still breathing, and his pulse was so faint that sometimes when she checked, Amy wasn’t sure his heart was beating. Paul ran to the road and waved the ambulance down.

  Amy confirmed everything in Spanish with the ambulance driver while the paramedics examined Simon; especially that she would pay. The paramedics quickly transferred Simon to a stretcher and carried him across the sand to the ambulance.

  “I need to go with them to complete the paperwork,” Amy told Paul and Frank. “Can you guys come up to the hospital?”

  “We’ll get a taxi and see you there,” Paul answered, as he picked up Simon’s backpack and walking stick.

  Amy was relieved; she didn’t want to do this alone. “Great!” and she jumped into the back of the ambulance. The ambulance left with its sirens screaming. Amy realized that she didn’t even know where it was going!

  * * *

  Paul followed the English signs to Admitting; San Crecerlan was a tourist town. Frank tagged along behind him. Paul noted the worn floors, dented and scraped walls, and stained ceiling tiles. The smell of disinfectant was like that of any hospital. At the counter, he found Amy filling out a number of hospital forms.

  �
��Simon recovered briefly, and he told them he wasn’t Mexican,” Amy told them. “After that he relapsed, and they shocked him a number of times to get his heart going. It didn’t look good. He’s still in emergency, and I don’t know if he’s alive. I’ve been waiting out here. They wouldn’t give him any medication unless he had cash or insurance, so I’m taking care of it.”

  “Amy, you shouldn’t try to take care of every sick man you find,” said Frank as he pushed in beside Amy trying to look at the forms she was filling out, “that’s what governments and insurance are for. What about everyone else in this hospital? How much will it cost?”

  Amy answered firmly, “Well, I have the money, and if I choose to, I’ll do it! Life is about making a difference!”

  “You can do this indefinitely!” challenged Frank.

  “No I can’t. But I will do what I can!” answered Amy with eyes flaming, turning back to the hospital forms.

  Paul saw Frank was getting stubborn, and his cheeks were getting red. Frank continued, “What if he needs surgery or something?”

  Amy ignored him.

  Paul pulled Frank to the waiting room to prevent any more friction, and to let Amy complete the forms in peace. He didn’t disagree with Frank, but Amy was a big girl and could make her own decisions. The waiting room was small, with only a few plastic beach chairs already taken by relatives and friends of other patients. It wasn’t quiet! The kids in the waiting room were screaming and fighting, women were shouting at the kids, and men were speaking to each other loudly over the noise.

  Amy joined them once she was finished with the forms. Ignoring the argument with Frank, Amy explained, “Sorry that took so long, the forms were in Spanish and hard to figure out.” Amy looked and listened to the chaos in the waiting room, and suggested, “Why don’t you two wait outside? I can get you if there’s any change.”

  Frank checked his phone. “It’s dinner time,” Frank stated. Paul figured out that he meant supper after a second. Frank was from Canada and his English was a little different sometimes. “Our families are expecting us.”

  “Duh! Of course! They’ll think we’re lost!” said Amy, slapping her forehead. “I’ll stay here. You guys go back and let everyone know what’s happening. Paul, leave Simon’s backpack and walking stick with me in case he needs them.” Paul put them against the wall behind Amy.

  Leaving was OK by Paul; he didn’t like hospitals. He was reluctant to leave Amy, but was thankful of the chance to get out of the madhouse of the waiting room. The excruciating screech of a baby demanding its bottle decided it for him. Paul gave Amy a sympathetic squeeze on the shoulder, before saying, “OK, we’ll see you later.”

  * * *

  A long five hours later, an emergency room nurse told Amy, “Simon is resting. We moved him to Ward 5. You can visit him for few minutes, but then you’ll have to leave. Please understand,” the nurse paused, “he might not survive the night.”

  After a struggle with directions, Amy found Ward 5. There were eight beds on each side of the single room, and over each bed a small window, open, in an unsuccessful attempt to keep the ward cool. The curtains hanging around each bed gently moved in a slow breeze. Not seeing Simon, Amy went over to a bed in the far corner with the curtains closed. She found Simon awake, looking at her as she opened the curtains. She saw that he had more color in his face.

  “How are you feeling?” asked Amy as she sat on the bed and held his hand.

  “Better. I thank you Amy for buying the medicine for me. I have never seen a…aguja hipodérmica?”

  “Hypodermic syringe,” said Amy.

  Simon memorized that word before continuing. “Yes, hypodermic syringe; on my…where I come from, we don’t have anything like that.”

  Amy wondered where on Earth they didn’t have syringes, “We were worried about you.”

  “I am old. I hoped to get home, but that may not be possible now. I see you kept my pack and staff safe. Thank you.”

  “Where’s home?” asked Amy. Simon’s gaze slid away from her face. Didn’t he trust her? Amy let go of Simon’s hand.

  “For you, a long journey from here. When I came here I had to learn Spanish, and then once I found that English was the language for most of your planet, I learned English,” said Simon, slurring some of the words.

  Amy’s thoughts focused on ‘most of your planet’. What a strange thing to say! What did Simon mean? She could see that he was exhausted, so she’d have to ask later. “I’d best go and let you sleep. I’ll come back in the morning and see how you are.”

  Simon gripped her arm, he coughed clearing his throat, sweat beading on his forehead, “Yes, I’m tired. I need to see all three of you in the morning. Will you all come?”

  Amy was starting to worry. Simon was acting strange again with this emphasis on ‘three’, but, she reasoned with herself; the man had just had a heart attack, and she had to make allowances. There would be no harm in having Paul and Frank come with her tomorrow. “OK, we’ll come. You get a good night’s sleep and all three of us will be back in the morning.”

  Simon struggled to say one more thing to her, “Amy, please take my pack and staff with you. Bring them back in the morning. They won’t be safe here.”

  “OK,” said Amy. She wiped the sweat off Simon’s forehead, and then picked up the pack and walking stick. As she picked up the walking stick something stung her palm, probably a splinter, she’d look later. As Amy walked around the bed to leave, Simon was already asleep.

  * * *

  Back at the resort Amy found Paul and Frank near the pool talking under the lights. She pulled over a deck chair and sat down with them. “Simon asked me to take care of his pack and staff. The doctor said that Simon was old and his heart was not strong. The heart attack has damaged it. If Simon’s alive, a specialist will look at him early tomorrow, but he may not live out the night. Simon insisted that all three of us come in the morning, and I said we would.”

  Paul and Frank weren’t thrilled to go back to the hospital, but they agreed.

  * * *

  Amy found her parents and her brother John in the resort’s theatre. The evening show had just ended, and they were finishing their drinks. Amy’s parents were still getting used to the idea that John could now legally drink alcohol, and he was careful to limit his consumption in front of them. Amy grabbed a vacant chair and joined them, ate what was left of their nachos, and updated them on what had happened after Paul and Frank had left her to come back to the resort.

  Her Dad was thinking about what she’d said, and her Mom was quietly waiting for him to comment. This routine was normal. Luc Eugene La Reine was a leader, in the family, in business, and in his time in the army before he retired. The army had put its stamp on him; even now he sat at attention, his back hardly touching the chair. Not that Rosemary La Reine was a pushover; in family matters she usually let Dad have his say first, and then she weighed in with her opinion. In business matters it was different; each of their businesses was completely separate, but they often sought the other’s advice and suggestions.

  Dad’s tone was more of a question than a statement, “It could be expensive. Your trust fund was for university, not this.”

  Amy agreed, “Yes, I’ve thought of that. I have enough in the fund to complete university and do this.”

  Mom asked, “So what’s next?”

  “If Simon lives through the night, or even if he doesn’t, then I need to get his family, or someone, to come and take care of him.” Amy saw Dad and Mom nod to each other, and she guessed that was the answer they wanted. She hadn’t told them that Simon had been talking strangely; what if he was some kind of wandering hermit with no family or friends?

  * * *

  Amy didn’t sleep well that night. A dream came, one she’d had before, a dream that was not always the same. The two guys with her were Paul and Frank, she knew that this time. Together they watched a group of men in red jackets using their spears to herd some older people into
a meadow. Amy knew they were from a village, but she didn’t know how she knew that. She’d watched this before. Her dream took her somewhere else; long grass surrounded her, ending at the base of smoking volcanoes. Next, a huge circle of tables in a yellow room, with hundreds of people...

  Chapter 2 – Secret of the Pillar

  Amy struggled to get out of the taxi first; Simon’s walking stick seemed to catch on everything. It was giving her a lot of trouble. She'd woken up with the walking stick in her hand, banging her shin with it. Amy remembered leaving it by the door, and couldn't remember getting up to get it. But she must have?

  Amy headed for the hospital entrance. Seeing Paul and Frank weren’t following, she shouted, “Come on! Simon asked to see us all. He just wants to thank you. You don’t have to stay.” She walked into the entrance. “Wimps!” Amy said, loud enough for them to hear.

  Figuring that the guys would catch up, Amy went to the reception desk. She was told that Simon was recovering, which was a relief. Paul and Frank were relieved when they saw Amy’s face. Amy said, “The specialist is in the hospital, and I’ll find him after saying hi to Simon.”

  Simon was in the same bed, but this time the curtains were open. All the windows were still open, and after the night, the ward was pleasantly cool. Simon was sitting up, propped up on some pillows. He smiled at them as they came over. After checking how he was feeling, Amy went to find the specialist to figure out what to do about Simon, she didn’t want to abandon him.

  * * *

  As she came back into the ward, Amy knew her face showed the bad news. Looking at her, Simon said, “You have talked to the Doctor. He tried to tell me about my heart but I didn’t understand it all. I know it is bad. Staff has told me it cannot be cured.”

  Amy gave Frank a kick in the ankle, and after a confused look, Frank stood up so she could sit down to talk to Simon. Frank lacked the social graces, but he was smart, balancing things out.

  Frank told Amy, “I’ve checked his chart. I translated some of the Spanish with my phone, and Paul’s help. The chart says the only treatment recommended is medication.” Frank was incessantly curious, always seeking the answers to any problem or question. He was also a gadget freak, loving his phone, pad, and laptop, and Amy was sure that half of his luggage was electronics and cables.