Authors: Kipjo Ewers
Patterson kept riding me to spend more time training than studying. He told me that they didn’t give me a full scholarship to study, but to win games, and if I couldn’t do that, they’d take it away from me and send me back to the hood where I belonged.
I tried to complain about him. I went to my counselors, submitted complaints to the College Board. Nothing worked because he had led the Spartans to several division championships before I got there and was on the verge of bringing home a national title on top of bringing in more money from sponsors. My own teammates didn’t even back me, and because I had complained he made my life a living hell during practice and games.”
“You did not report this incident to your paternal parent?” The familiar asked.
“My pops had been looking out and taking care of me all my life,” Laurence shrugged. “I didn’t want him to worry about me anymore. I figured I could just stick it out, that I could graduate and take care of him for a change. So I gave up my studies and focused more on playing ball so I could keep my scholarship. My grades started to drop, and because I had gone against the coach, I didn’t get the treatment other players got. So it didn’t matter if I was on the team or not; if I didn’t bring up my grades, I’d fail out, get suspended from the team, possibly lose my scholarship, and eventually get kicked out.”
His chest began to expand as his mind journeyed to darker memories.
“We were in a game against the Wyoming Cowboys; I barely got any sleep because I was pulling all-nighters to get my grades up. It was the third quarter, the Cowboys were in the lead by ten points, and we were getting hammered by their defense. What made it worse was for the majority of the plays Patterson had me running the ball. I had taken a couple of nasty hits, and my legs were like rubber, but I refused to give that bitch the satisfaction that he was getting to me. I just kept on getting back up.
It was third down, and we were still at the thirty. I found an opening and took off. I felt two linemen on my heels, my legs were cramping, but I just kept going. I was so tired I barely saw the ball in the air. I went up, caught it at the ten and then got smacked out of mid-air.”
He winced shaking his head as if it was happening to him all over again.
“I knew it was broken before I hit the ground. Coming down on it as I hit only made it worse, but despite all that I held onto that ball with all I had left.” He tried to muster up a smile. “I ain’t never felt pain like I felt on that day. It felt like it was run over by a truck, or someone was cutting it off with a dull axe. It hurt so bad that I started bawling, and I wouldn’t let go of the ball. I think I eventually passed out.”
The weight of the memory lowered his head.
“He didn’t even come onto the field and at least
pretend
to see if I was okay. When I woke up in the hospital after the first surgery, there was a note on my table waiting for me with no name on it. It said ‘You’re done.’ I knew the second I read it that it was from him.
When my dad heard about it, he borrowed a company taxi and drove for over ten hours straight just to get to me.”
A scowl of anger and frustration washed over his face as he wished he could go back and exact further vengeance on his former coach.
“The doctors said the hit had torn the majority of my ACL and MCL, and my kneecap was broken in four different places. Even with surgery I would never be able to run on it again at one hundred percent. My ball career was over after that, along with my scholarship.” he shook his head. “There was no way I could afford the tuition even with financial aid, so I had to leave school. Then the medical bills started to pile up from all the additional work done on my knee, and pain medication, which did jack to help me. My dad took double and triple shifts, but in the end he couldn’t keep up. Without my degree it was impossible for me to find a decent job, and those that I found, I couldn’t keep because of my condition. I started falling into a depression, and I was always in pain. I just wanted the pain to go away so I could think straight. When doubling up on my medication didn’t work, I started to get into some stronger shit. I knew the fix was temporary …that I would be worse off when I came down, but for that brief time I was high … I couldn’t feel the pain …my leg wasn’t broken …and I got to dream that I got my degree …that’s all I ever wanted … I just wanted my degree.”
Tears of frustration finally streamed down his face as his head dropped almost to his knees. He wrapped his hands over the back of his bald skull for comfort as he wept bitterly.
“I broke my leg. I broke my leg, and they threw me away. Who does that yo? I wasn’t a person to them. Just something they could use to win games … for their fucking sponsors. I broke my leg, and lost everything and everyone …even my dad. Now I’m nothing …but a worthless junkie.”
“I find your self-analysis inaccurate,” responded the familiar.
“What are you talking about?” Laurence wiped his eyes.
“Based on the information that you have provided me, and data on human male players who participate in this sport on a high school level,” the familiar began to calculate. “Approximately three percent of players go on to play on a college level yearly, while only two percent or less go on to play on a professional level after college. Based on this analysis providing student players with a proper education should have been a higher priority. The system that this and other universities created, which focused more on accumulating wins and championships in this sport over preparing students for a competitive workforce, is what is flawed. About 1.2 million players were injured per year based on consolidated medical records, therefore it is clear that your outcome was very likely due to this failed system.”
Laurence found himself sitting up a bit taller as he paid attention to what the familiar had to say.
“Also, the human definition of a ‘junkie’ is a person with a compulsive habit or obsessive dependency on something. In urban slang it is an individual addicted to a narcotic-- such as heroin, morphine, opium, codeine, or methadone,” clarified the alien constructed cobra. “I have altered your DNA making you immune to such toxins, I have also upgraded your healing process optimizing your testosterone, protein, and IGF-1 levels, repairing the damage that made you dependent on such narcotics in the first place, so the definition of ‘junkie’ no longer applies to you.”
Laurence realized in its indirect way without recognizing it, the familiar was attempting to cheer him up.
“You are Laurence Danjuma, son of Douglas and Harriet Danjuma, whose bloodline spans thousands of years to the line of Amun-Ra and the House of Ra.” It reiterated. “That is the only designation that I recognize.”
Its summation brought a slight smile back to his face.
“I’d like to go back to the ship now,” Laurence stood up wiping whatever tears he had missed from his eyes.
“As you command,” obeyed the familiar.
He extended his arm, allowing it to shrink and wrap around it like a bracelet again. As it opened up another portal, Laurence gave a quick look around to ensure no one was looking before stepping through with no hesitation.
He went forward, no longer looking back.
CHAPTER 6
Almost twelve hours after the incident at Michigan State University, a calmer, more level-headed Laurence inquisitively strolled through the halls of the Annunaki transport with his familiar slithering next to him.
Like a curious child, he ran his hand across the various metallic and crystalline materials used to create the ship. Passing by one of the observation windows, he shook his head as large fluorescent creatures swam past, reminding him that he was actually at the deepest depths of the Pacific Ocean.
He continued walking, and an oval door split in two, silently sliding apart into the walls of the ship, granting him access to the main command deck. Slight disappointment fell over his face as he stood in the middle of a bare room with a single observation window that allowed him to look out into the blackness of the Pacific.
“Not much of a starship deck,” he rubbed his chin looking around.
“May I ask what you were expecting to see?” questioned the familiar.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Something like the Enterprise or Millennium Falcon I guess.”
Out of nowhere the familiar’s eyes blazed as it projected a holographic schematic of the ship they were on. The ship was a wide triangle shape that had been slightly bent to a curve in the middle, while the nose and its wings had a dull round shape. There were several levels to the ship which made it appear as if it were a pyramid with a domed top.
“Those are fictional interstellar ships from your planet’s popular fictional science fantasy genre,” confirmed the familiar. “All of this vessel’s functions including flight and navigation are controlled either by voice command or by a familiar communicating with the ships artificial intelligence.”
“So it can think just like you?” He formulated.
“It is capable of self-maintenance and obeying complex commands,” it explained. “It is incapable of making independent decisions.”
“I see,” he nodded. “So Amun-Ra, Set, and Osiris were the first three visitors from another world to set foot on Earth, right? Why were they here?”
“Mainly research,” it stated. “Osiris studied your planet’s biology and zoology from life to progression to death, while Set studied your planet’s meteorology, ecology, and oceanography.”
An archived holographic projection beamed from the ceiling, showing an irritated Set preparing to backhand an Egyptian male who had contaminated one of his scans by curiously placing his hand in the path of his staff’s light, undoubtedly seeking some sort of godly grace.
“Seems like he wasn’t a fan of humans,” Laurence smirked.
“Set’s view of humans back then was that of your primate cousins,” indicated the familiar. “He was less amused with the culture branding him as a deity, specifically when their attempt to worship him interfered with his research.”
“What did Amun-Ra do?” he asked.
“His field was your natural resources, technology which was minimal at that time, and astronomy.”
“What can you tell me about the Annunaki?” He decided to change the subject.
“Where would you like me to begin?” it asked.
“How about the beginning?” he nonchalantly tossed up his hands.
“Would you prefer to sit for this lesson?”
“Sure.” He nodded.
Like the table and seat in the dining hall, a rectangular section of the floor detached itself and bent into three sections to create seating for him. Laurence sat down, still astonished by the strength of the magnetized repulsion system that allowed it to remain suspended while taking his full weight.
More lights began to project from different parts of the command deck, slightly startling Laurence. The lights working together created an image of a bright green and blue planet that appeared to be twice the size of Earth with four different moons orbiting it, while it and five other planets orbited a blue star.
“The Planet of Anu, located in quadrant 83315 of our universe, is approximately 2.272 billion years older than your current planet Earth,” said the familiar beginning its introduction. “In the early stages of the planet, ruling factions fighting for expanded territory and power divided the planet. They used tools such as military force and religion to subjugate the population under each of their ruling houses.
This way of ruling went on for several centuries, until a Northern High Lord by the name of Geb took steps to carry out what was known as ‘The Great Uprooting.’ In one night, he made use of a slow-acting poison to systematically wipe out all opposing factions along with their bloodlines; as well some from his own that he felt may oppose him in the near future.”
“That’s coldblooded.” Laurence shook his head.
“With no one to oppose him,” the familiar continued. “Geb took rule of the entire planet and ushered in an age of growth and prosperity to Anu. His main focus was the betterment of the people, the planet, and the pursuit of knowledge and education to advance his race. In time Geb would sire five sons: Set, Ra, Khnum, Osiris, and Nu.
Near the end of Geb’s rule, infighting broke out between the brothers to see who would rule in his place. This grieved him greatly. Under the advisement of his mate Nut, Geb took action.
Inviting his sons to the throne room, he had them arrested and bound. He then destroyed his throne in front of them and decreed that upon his death, the single monarchy system on Anu would also come to an end. He then gave his sons two options: to embrace the new governing system he would initiate, or join him in death to become a part of the Awakening, so that Anu would continue to prosper.
All five sons accepted the first option.
Under the new governing system, the five brothers would become the Council of Elders, making decisions in unison on behalf of the people and the planet. Citizens of Anu were then given the chance to decide what house they wanted to pledge allegiance to. This would be known as the House system.
“I don’t understand,” Laurence shook his head.
On Anu, a citizen pledges allegiance directly to one of the five Houses of the Council of Elders. By doing so, the House pledges to honor, protect, and provide for that citizen’s well-being as they would their own direct bloodline, while the citizen pledges their allegiance and yearly tithing to the House. In time, his sons understood the lessons he was instilling in them, that the responsibility of a ruler was to serve the people, and to make them better. For if the people are not strong…”