Gathering Glory

Destiny pushed him like a bus driver, up the main entrance to the Civic Center, past the entrance table where he found the lights and a loot bag and proceeded to his publisher's booth in the back corner. There it was: a fictional anthology, brightly colored but creeping to draw his attention. He picked up a copy to look at, saw his name on the cover, a third from the top, and felt an increase in satisfaction. His first sale as a writer.

"Do you like science fiction?"

He looked at the girl behind the desk, a weak creature with bright eyes and long black hair. "All right," he said, holding up a book. "I'm Nigel Harris." Click forward with your finger. "I'm covering you."

"Nigel!" he said getting up from his chair. He walked around the table and hugged her tightly. "I'm so glad to know you." He stepped back and stared at her with a happy face. "I'm Stefany Rose, the publisher."

"Aw." He nodded. "Great." She looked younger than she thought through her email. And why is physical contact so aggressive?

"I have your check," he said.

He smiled. "It's cool."

"Up." He said pointing. "We'll get it later."

"No problem." He waved a modest hand.

Stefany led her around the table on the business side. "Sit in my chair for a minute. You've come a long way. Can I get you a mocha latte?"

"Absolutely." He kept looking around. "What if someone wants to buy it?"

"There's a card reader in the box." He clicked it with his toe. "Wait a minute until I come back. Ask them if they want your signature, 'okay?"

His signature? Holy cow. He nodded and followed her exhausted and turned to see a group of young people moving hesitantly towards the table, a pile of haute couture. The little girl picked up a copy of the anthology. "What is it about?" He had a crystal stud on the left side of his nose and a small tattoo on his temple.

"It is the subject of an anthology called the Lost Nations."

He answered it. "Did you write?"

"I have another story, 'Gathering Glory.' There are ten stories in all. They are a good value for your money. " Now that sounded like a cripple. Was that the best thing he could do to improve his book?

The girl smiled and tilted the moving head of curls. "What is your story about?"

"Well, it's about a lost race from another planet that gets lost and scattered on Earth when their star crashes into the ocean.

The girl held her mouth and nodded. "Whoa. I'll take one. Will you sign me?"

He patted her pockets, feeling her face glow with heat. "Eh ..." He glanced at the box under the table and checked the football point. "Absolutely." He raised his finger and went down for a moment.

"To Helen," he ordered and looked around the room. "Can you date Con, please?"

"Here's your coffee, sir," said Stefany behind him. "Can I get something for you?"

"Eh ..." He turned to see his oppressive plot. He said straightening his shoulders with his shoulder. "This lady would like to pay for a copy."

"Brilliant," he said. "Debit or credit?"

Two other teenagers lined up behind Helen to buy copies as Nigel provided more details about her story: secret codes on the net to include immigrants, private social events, and anonymous psi contacts. He seems to be interested in this abandoned age group.

"She's natural," Stefany said as the teens came out in droves. "'Gathering Glory' is a wonderful concept of truth."

Nigel stared at the young publisher for a moment. His smile was bright, his face was beautiful.

"I mean," he said. "It's probably true, you know. The aliens didn't stop at sea. They got off the ship and disembarked across the continent from Alaska to the Chesapeake Bay." She tossed her black hair with confidence.

"Absolutely." Nigel nodded, playing. There were many stories in the book and he had not read any of them. "That could be."

Stefany examined him briefly. "Well, a very good idea," she repeated, squeezing her mocha latte. "Do you want to stay a little longer and meet ordinary people?" He pulls up again and pulls out another chair. He patted her knee and wondered if she was flirting, but her eyes were overcome by two other customers approaching the table.

When his colleagues finally arrived to carry on their work, Stefany took him upstairs to collect his salary. He sat outside in the hallway as he entered his hotel room and returned with a large black bag full of papers. He missed the moment and looked up. "Have you seen the view on the roof? It's so beautiful. C'mon."

Nigel followed faithfully behind as he pushed the crash site out. The air was cold and clear, and the wind was blowing high this way. He walked to the edge and pointed with his palm to the shore with distant boats. The sun was setting, and a bright red cloud formed.

"It's very good," he said.

"Aliens can fly, Nigel. I wonder why you don't use that in your story." He glanced back at his bag, fished, and finally pulled out an envelope with his little royalty, his first one. He picked it up but backed away waiting for his answer.

He glared at Nigel. "They have wings?"

"They have the genetics of antigravity. It's not aerodynamic."

"Ahh." He nodded. "It's cool."

She read to him. "I'm surprised you didn't know. A lot has been lost in two generations."

"Of course," he said, picking up a holy envelope, his first salary as a writer. He felt a new sense of destiny, forgiveness.

Then the wind blew the paper away like a kite. Stefany bent down to catch it, lost his balance, and collapsed on the edge. "Nigel," he said with a smile on his arm.

He angrily grabbed her and tried to back away, but his shifting weight put them both on top of the mountain. The moment of weightless panic overwhelmed him as the horizon was tense and the commotion boiled in his stomach like a death knell. He felt a short breath in his face, saw the grave, and found himself floating, holding Stefany by his dangling arm. He looked around the city in an instant, and he saw the red sun shining through the mirrored windows, and a flock of doves surrounded the tower. Confusion seemed to surround him with ease, an ancient truth made clear.

"Put us back on the roof, Nigel," Stefany sighed as he grabbed his wrist with both hands. "And you are welcome at home in the family."