The Terran Ranger Saga Volume 6, Heather Ray [top 10 motivational books .txt] 📗

Brittany thought to herself. How could I have forgotten that the third floor wasn't added until 2001? Sheesh, I'm not thinking! That was close

...

Brittany sighed, and walked down the quiet hallway. Without warning her communicator beeped, and echoed down the hall. Brittany cringed as the loud echo filled the empty hall.

"Excuse me," said a slender man in a navy blue suit, with an obvious toupee, "what was that noise?"

"Noise?" asked Brittany innocently.

The man nodded. "The noise. It sounded a lot like... a pager."

"Oh," Brittany said in relief, "a pager! Yeah, that's what it is, just my pager. Uh, sorry it's so loud --"

"What's your name, young lady?"

"Brittany."

"Well then, Brittany, you should know that pagers aren't permitted in school. Come with me, please."

With that, the principal of the school, Mister Caplan, stepped towards his office, and held the door open. Brittany's shoulders slumped as she walked past him, into the foreboding office of authority.

I just do NOT

believe this is happening!

Meanwhile, Kimberly stood in the corner of the hallway, tapping her chin in thought.

"So," she whispered into her wrist, "you didn't contact me, Billy?"

^Negative,^

he said. ^Did you speak to the other Rangers?^

"Yes," she sighed. "Something's fishy here, Billy."

^Really?^

"Do me a favor? Could you hack into the school's computer files, and find out if there's a new student here at Angel Grove high? His name's Anthony Monroe."

^It'll take a second,^

Billy said, the sound of typing in the background, ^Anthony Monroe, eh? That name sounds...vaguely familiar.^

"I know what you mean," said Kimberly, "I know I've heard that name somewhere before. I just can't place it..."

^Perhaps your telepathic powers are at work, giving you the feeling of deja vu?^

"I suppose that's possible," Kimberly thought aloud. "But it's never happened before..."

^I have the results. According to the school's files, the last new student to enroll in Angel Grove High was Alexis, in late January.^

"That's what I thought," she said, nodding. "Thanks, Billy."

^Do you think I should I tell the other Rangers about this guy?^

"Not yet. I'll find him first, and ffind out who he really is, and what he's doing here."

Meanwhile, out on the moon, a lone figure stood on a cliff. He remained silent, his hands clasped and the long sleeves of his black gown obscuring them from view. He looked at the Earth, the shining blue gem floating in a sea of black nothingness. He then looked towards the stone castle standing in a crater not far from him on the face of Earth's only natural satellite. He began his journey, and took his time walking to the castle.

After all, he had all the time in the world.

Right outside the city limits of Angel Grove was a small block of land, nestled in the dusty, rocky site foot of the cliffs edging the Pacific Ocean. Here, this tiny piece of history remains mostly unblemished by the passage of time. True, the basic look has changed...animal skins have been replaced by denim jeans, and the open fire has been replaced by a stove. Still, the outside changes did little to affect the heart of the people. The bronzed natives, who had occupied this territory for generations, looked at the world with a wonder and deference that most Americans simply didn't feel. The pace of life was slow, for there was no reason to live each moment in expectation of the next. The people were friendly. Nature was respected, not disturbed.

That was how the ancient tribe had always lived. Separated from the "modern"

world around them, understanding the infinite purity of a simple life.

Despite the fact that he was now nearly thirty years back in time, miraculously he felt right at home.

"This is amazing," Micah whispered, standing at the threshold of the Native American reservation. "It looks exactly like it does in our time!"

"That's not really too surprising," his companion Rebecca commented, futily holding down her long dark hair against the strong mountain winds, "I'd bet these lands haven't changed much over centuries. Thirty years isn't really that long."

Micah shrugged. "Considering I'm only thirteen, it's pretty long to me."

Rebecca Mitchell smiled, walking ahead of her friend and into the village. While the people regarded the two visitors with surprise, they were still quite polite and courteous. The passersby smiled, nodding their heads slightly in greeting as they went about their business. Finally, one young woman stepped forward, her flowing hair casually held in a braid hanging over her left shoulder, and a curious glint in her bottomless black eyes.

"Excuse me," she said hesitantly, "but are you two youths from a great distance, searching for someone?"

Micah and Rebecca both startled at the woman's insight. Micah blinked, fixing her with a powerful stare. "Um...how did you know?"

She smiled, biting her lip slightly in excitement. "My instructor, the Shaman of our tribe, told me to watch for you. I am to bring you back to him now."

Still perplexed, Rebecca and Micah closely followed the woman to a tent, which stood out drastically compared to the small houses that housed the majority of the tribe. Rebecca leaned closer to Micah, bringing her mouth close to his ear.

"The powers of the tribal shamans are so mysterious," she whispered, keeping her eye on the back of their guide. "It's not quite like psionic abilities. It's more like it's drawn from the world around them, rather than within themselves. I can see a faint aura of energy around this woman. It's not much, but she's clearly learning how to tap the energy of the world around her."

"My Aunt Mandi talks about that kind of stuff a lot," Micah whispered back, never moving his dark gaze from the young woman in front of them. "Actually, I think she dabbled a bit in the mystical arts of the tribe before she married my uncle."

The young woman turned back to the teens behind her, and pulled open the only tent in the community. She stuck her head into the darkened tent, and fixed her eyes on the elderly man, with feathers and leather cords entwined in his flowing snowy hair. She cleared her throat, causing the man to awaken from the meditation that had occupied his attention.

"I found the young travelers, Shaman," she announced.

The man smiled, nodding his head. "I knew you did, Emandia. Please, let them in."

Emandia nodded, and rose from the crack in the tent. Her brow wrinkled slightly with discomfort as she noticed the astonished expressions on the two youths' faces.

"Y...y...you..." Micah stammered, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Your name is Emandia?" Rebecca finished for him.

Emandia blinked. "Well, yes," she answered, frowning slightly. "Why do you ask?"

Rebecca then smiled quickly. "Oh, it's just a coincidence. We both know someone named Emandia, and it's not really that common a name."

Emandia's smile returned. "Well, that certainly does sound like a coincidence, doesn't it?" she remarked, waving the two into the tent. "The shaman is ready to see you now."

Emandia then walked casually away from the tent, clearly intent on performing her other duties. Micah watched her departure, still speechless from the surprise. Finally, Rebecca grabbed his shirt collar, and forced him to lock eyes with her.

"Snap outta it, Mike," she said briskly. "We've got a job to do."

"That's just so...weird!" Micah gasped, "I didn't even recognize her!"

"It'll get weirder, when we encounter the rest of our parents," Rebecca reminded him. She then let go of his collar, and stepped into the tent. "Are you coming?"

Micah quickly followed his petite companion into the tent. Together, they looked around the small area, lit with a small lantern seated before an old man crouched near the back of the tent. The flickering light sent moving shadows over his visage, clouding much of his features and filling the chamber with an eerie aura. Micah swallowed hesitantly as he took a seat beside Rebecca. While Micah was clearly uncomfortable in his present surroundings, Rebecca wasn't at all rattled by it. Instead, she was entirely calm and collected.

Once thing she learned from Professor Xavier's school was to never show fear.

"So," Rebecca said casually, "Emandia tells us that you've been waiting for our arrival."

"I have," the shaman said, leaning closer to the children. His proximity brightened his features somewhat, revealing a gentle smile.

Micah calmed down a bit.

"If you knew we were coming, then you probably know why we're here," Rebecca hypothesized, clenching her hands together.

"I do," he responded, "I saw it in a vision, Child of the Stars."

Rebecca blinked at the comment, her mouth hanging open slightly. "Why do you refer to me that way?"

"You are quite inquisitive," the shaman said, "unlike your friend. Do not be afraid or disquieted, Son of Falcon. You are among family in this tribe."

"How...how did you know?!" Micah gasped, his astonishment never ceasing.

"You should not be so surprised," the shaman declared, "yet you are. You are not familiar with the ways of your people. You are much like the Falcon. He has many doubts about his destiny, yet