Andrew and Ham’s Space Adventures

Copyright © 2021 BJ Chen.

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Cover Image from Shutterstock

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9195-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9196-9 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date:  09/13/2021

CONTENTS

1   The Alien

2   Andrew

3   Ham’s Space Tale

4   Ham Explains

5   Time Travelling

6   Coral’s Story

7   Egypt

8   Andrew and Djedefre

9   Catching the Lurcher

10   Getting the Lurcher’s Eggs

11   Home

1

THE ALIEN

F eeling slightly grumpy to be pulled away from his survey of this fascinating planet and more than alarmed at the leading request of the High Mother , the alien landed gently, hopped out of his small space runabout, and set about disguising it. Satisfied that it was safe—because it now looked exactly like all the other rocks on the strip of white sandy beach—he looked up and saw the spread of flowers that had delighted him from above. They did so again. The flowers were large, bright, and multicoloured. They filled his mind and made his tendrils glow. Slowly, he spread himself out and floated gently up the sloping bank, almost covering the mass beneath him. Delighted with the colour and form, he relaxed and ran his mind though the earth’s plant dictionary, which was already lodged in his brain. The plant’s common name came to him: pig face!

Oh dear! he thought. Then the plant’s botanical name popped into his brain. Mesembryanthemum. He smiled and sent a message to his own spaceship, Mother, circling above the earth. "Can you see the flowers, Mother?"

"I can, she answered. He was aware of the smile in her answer when she said, No wonder someone has given it an easier name."

Spreading himself thinly, he drifted over the glory beneath him. Feeling exhilarated, he slowly rose up and over the edge of the high bank. Once on the top, he gathered himself together and looked around. The coordinates were right as far as he could tell, but suddenly his thoughts were in tatters; the air was too full of oxygen for comfort, and he struggled to gain control over his breathing. With great effort, he stopped moving and waited to calm down.

Then he morphed.

The change of shape was easy after all the past practise, but walking on uneven ground felt odd. He quickly adjusted the transparent filter covering the whiskers, closing it over his mouth and nose. The cat image was a good idea because the fur, as well as keeping him warm, obscured his body image, and the whiskers kept his oxygen intake under control. He wondered for the hundredth time what he was supposed to do here—and whatever it was, would it work? He took a deep breath—and gagged. He told himself that he really must remember to think before he took a lungful of air, but really, his mind was on the leader of the great armada—the High Mother—and why she had requested he wait on this planet. She had not bothered with any of the other planets he had reviewed. He was their senior scientist and history keeper, and she would never bother him unless it was something urgent. He and his teams visited any promising planets ahead of the main body of spaceships, listing places that could be useful in emergencies. She appeared to be concerned with her own spacecraft, not the whole armada. It was a puzzle.

He turned his thoughts to what he was doing, and quite suddenly, the High Mother’s mind blended with his. In an instant, he knew everything! Shocked, he understood the calamity which had befallen the lead ship and why she had sent him to Earth. A hidden danger had been found on the mothership which could wipe out his entire species. He finally knew what the Mother, needed him to do. Her request was odd because all she had to base her plans on was something mentioned in her forward visions of their sagas.

Forward sagas were like dreams. The old ones, even if they were a bit muddled, did document the history of their own poor old planet, and they were—well, sort of—almost always right. The smallness of the planet he was accessing now pleased him, but for her to find help here was unimaginable! But, as always, he followed her instructions, weird as they were.

Busily thinking, he looked up at the sky and saw what he knew he would see: blue and white everywhere. Very pretty, but not comforting. Still, he knew it was all he was going to see for the time being, so it was best not to think too much about it. He took a few steps and stopped again. Ears pricked forward, he listened. He had been careless, and too busy wondering about it all to think properly about where he was. The bicycle hit him before he could move.

2

ANDREW

T he bicycle bounced off a small tree and dumped Andrew onto a pile of old cans and bushes on the opposite side of the track. He lay where he had fallen for a while, and then he rolled over and crawled onto a grassy patch on his right. He was winded, his backside hurt, and his left leg had a bad graze from knee to ankle. His palms felt as if they were on fire. He sniffed back the tears that threatened and looked at his bike. No way could he ride that now. The front wheel was twisted, and the tyre was about to come off. He looked back along the track to see what he had hit, but a slight bend and the trees and bushes made it hard to see anything.

Still fighting tears, he got himself up onto his feet. He was dizzy and hurt all over, and he could still feel the soft thud and hear the awful screech that had occurred just before his bicycle hit the stone wall. He was terribly afraid of what he would find around the bend. Hobbling slowly back, he held a bloodied handkerchief between his palms. Half sobbing with fear and shock, he turned the corner and gulped.

Lying beside the track with its feet in the air was either a very, very large cat or a medium-sized Lynx. Andrew backed off fearfully as the animal rolled onto its side. Its golden eyes looked coldly into his. He stopped backing away and stood stock still, too scared even to breathe. It seemed to him that he had stood there forever when, from somewhere, a voice said, Why don’t you trot over to that seat behind those fir trees and sit down before you fall down?

Andrew stood as still as a statue but took a deep breath.

Go ahead, do. I will be with you in a minute, said the voice.

Andrew risked a quick look around but could not see anyone. When he looked back, the catlike thing had closed its eyes. He was trembling so much that he knew he would fall if he didn’t move, so he wobbled his way to the trees in front of him while keeping his eyes on the animal on the track. He lost sight of it when he had to go behind a screen of trees to the seat. He was crying now in earnest, shaking and shuddering; he could not stop himself and wanted nothing more than his mum and dad and to be out of this place and away from the thing he had run into.

Look, said the voice, I can understand you being upset, but after all, you only fell off the bicycle. On the other hand, I was well and truly knocked out. And I had a couple of cracked ribs to redact. Still have a few bruises, if I am not mistaken. So I think I have more reason than you to be upset, but I’m not making such a fuss, now am I?

Redact? Oh, he means fix. Andrew looked up, his tears forgotten in another rush of fear as the cat thing strolled slowly around the seat and sat about a metre away.

He saw the earthling child and his brain almost shrivelled. Something was wrong! This could not be the one the High Mother had said he must find. His soul shaking with disappointment, he cried. Oh, light! What now? The child was hurt, and he knew he would have to help it. This is all wrong, he thought in anguish. He called out silently, Oh! Mother, I am sorry. So very sorry. I have failed!

Calm, calm, calm, the High Mother’s voice said in his mind. Your coordinates have worked. The timing was perfect. This is the correct one. Ask it for a name.

But Mother, it is a child! How could it help us?

The other one I have found is also a child. Together they will help us when we arrive. Identify this one.

What are you called? the voice asked.

Andrew. Andrew Cheyne, the boy answered automatically. He stared at the giant cat in terror.

His alien heart soared, and even the Mother’s voice trembled. "Ondochyn!" she whispered. He is in the Sagas! The awe is her voice was clear in his mind. Calm him. Heal his hurts. I’ll call you, and you can bring him safely to us when we arrive.

How can it be? Mother, I have no memory of this!

Her voice came to ease his mind. That is because you have not yet accomplished what you must. You shall, of course. There are seven days before the hatching. I am so happy.

Will it come without me forcing it to? he asked doubtfully.

He is a human, not an it—and he will come, she said positively. You will make sure he does. Talk to him; make friends with him.

Calm down, Ondochyn, the cat thing said gently. I am not as ugly as all that, surely?

Andrew’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. He shut his eyes tight and thought, I am hurt, and I am dreaming that a big cat is talking to me and he’s saying my name wrong. I was riding down the hill and trying to better my time, and then there was a bump and a scream or screech and—

That was me. And I did not screech, the voice in his head interrupted testily. I may have cried out a little. After all, it’s not every day a mad human child on a bicycle runs one down—it was something of a surprise. One is bound to make some sort of sound under those circumstances, hmm? The cat tilted its head to one side and narrowed its eyes.

This is not real, Andrew thought. It’s too crazy. My leg hurts awfully and so does my hand. And this cat seems to be talkng inside my head. He moaned and tried to dab at his leg. It really did hurt. He began to cry again.

Hush dear boy, let me look, the cat said.

Andrew pulled his legs up onto the bench quickly and yelled, You stay away from me!

The cat stopped. Good heavens! Why? it said.

I’m allergic to cat hair! Andrew bawled.

The cat sat upon its hind legs and put its paws over its ears. Must you really be so loud? it asked, squeezing its eyes tight and covering its ears with its paws.

Andrew stared at it in amazement. Do you really talk? he managed to croak.

The cat’s tail waved from side to side as it lowered its paws. Yes, it said, but subvocally. In fact, I’m not speaking, precisely. It’s more like thought projection. There is a scientific name for it, but you would be too young to know of it, so it’s no use trying to explain it to you.

I’m not dumb, Andrew said, angrily. And go away! I’m hurt and I need to get to my bike to find out if I can push it, and you’re in my way. You … you can’t help with the bike or my injuries, so I don’t need you making me think I am crazy. This is a dream! I’ve hit my head and I’m dreaming while I’m unconscious. That’s what I am doing!

Well, said the cat, I’m sorry you think so. That it’s a dream, I mean. It isn’t, of course, And as for your injuries? I suppose I could do something about them. Your bike, did you call it? That should be easy since it is not a matter of nerves and tissue.

The cat moved towards him, and Andrew, who had forgotten his fear for a few moments, shrunk back.

I’m allergic! he yelped.

Oh, of course. I forgot. Well, sit still and let me concentrate. I have never had to do it in this sort of predicament.

Do what? Andrew shouted. The great cat stood directly in front of him. It was closer than before. He thought he must run but knew he had no chance; the thing was too close. There was not much he could do except shiver and shake, and he was doing plenty of that. The cat sat down again and looking intently at him, it began to purr—sounding like a low, continuous drum roll. Andrew began to feel a little sleepy and, strangely, happy. The cat continued to purr, and as it did so, the pain began to leave his leg and hands. His bottom stopped hurting, and he stopped feeling sick.

There! Feeling better? The cat yawned hugely. Andrew looked at its teeth and shivered.

Will you stop with the shivers, it snapped. "Have I not just healed you? If I had wanted to eat you, which I don’t, I should have done