Eye of Ra (8 page)

“Why did you do this to me?” He shook and lowered his head.

“I am your familiar; it is my primary order to protect and preserve your life,” the massive robotic king cobra stated again.

“What does that mean?” He snapped lashing out. “I’m just some bum from Brooklyn! I’m nobody! Who I am supposed to be to you?”

“You are the direct descendant of Amun-Ra, son of Amun, and grandson to Ra of the house of Ra,” the familiar informed him.

“Amun-Ra…Ra…Ra…” Laurence kneaded his skull.

He painfully searched his brain for the name that sounded so familiar; his eyes widened as it dawned on him where he had heard it

“I’m the descendant…of an Egyptian sun god?” He swallowed.

 “Solar deity was one of the names given to him by the humans of that time. Within the Aztec culture of your planet he was known as Tonatiuh. To the Inca he was known as Inti and Apu-punchau. He however was no deity.” The gleaming metal serpent informed him. “Amun-Ra was the son of Amun and Neith under the house of Ra, one of the five ruling houses of Anu. As translated in your English language he was a renowned leader, politician, scientist, explorer, and soldier.” 

“So…he was an alien?” Laurence shuddered, “you’re saying…I’m part alien.”

“You are twenty percent Annunaki,” answered the cobra.

Senses crashed, emotionally battered, Laurence made his way back to the pod to sit down and attempt a reboot. His eyes had closed as a frail junkie bleeding out from a fatal knife wound, and they had reopened better than healed, sitting within an alien ship at the bottom of the ocean talking to a robotic snake. The fact that he couldn’t chalk this experience up to a drug induced hallucination made processing his current predicament even more strenuous. What bothered him most was that he could
feel
his physical strength, which had replaced all the pain and compounded ailments that he had learned to cope with. Something that should have brought him unbridled joy was driving him to blubbering insanity. Why him? After all this time, what made him so special?

Suddenly, he remembered when he was at death’s door; he was not the only person in the room that day.

“There was …someone else with me,” Laurence swallowed. “A girl …Rosemary …what happened to her?”

“Her life force was extinguished by the projectile wounds she received.” It bluntly answered. “I did not take a proper scan to determine how she expired, but I could not detect her heartbeat after dispatching your three assailants.”

“Why didn’t you try to help her?” a choked up Laurence asked. “Why didn’t you just
stop
them before they shot her?”

“Again she was not a part of my primary order; you also did not give me a command to protect the female.” It answered. “Had the assailant known as Trevor pointed his projectile weapon at you, I would have dispatched him before he pulled the trigger. Your rushed movement and close proximity to the assailant known as Brick Bear made his blade attack unavoidable. By calculating the rate of your blood loss I was able to assess a strategy to eliminate all assailants while preserving your life in an acceptable time period.”

“Not a threat?” He grinded his teeth, “They had fucking weapons! They were murderers!”

“Criminals and civilians intermingle in the same space within your society on a daily basis; some of them are also armed.” The reptilian machine coldly returned. “That is not the determination of a threat level. In order to remain within set protocols, I assess and react to situations that will occur as a threat to your life, nothing else.”

“I want …to go…back,” he demanded. “Take me back to Flatbush …now.”

“I would advise against that,” it cautioned. “The local authorities are searching to question you for the deaths of the female and three male assailants. It would not be wise to return to the location known as Flatbush or any part of the North American Eastern Tristate area at this time.”

“Why …why did you come back?” He asked through furious tears. “Why didn’t you stay where you were?”

“The individual you gave me to was not of the bloodline of Amun-Ra,” returned the familiar. “My primary order is to serve and protect the bloodline of Amun-Ra; I cannot fulfill my primary order if I am not with you.”

“Shut up!” he roared. “This is all your fucking fault …if you’d stayed where I left you she’d be alive! You got Rosemary …”

“That is false,” the familiar cut him off. “Based on the chain of events, had you not given me to an individual that was not of your bloodline, I would not have been forced to obey my primary order and make my way back to you. This same individual would not have come under the impression that I belonged to him, and come searching for me. The female’s death was the cause of your poor decision.”

He sat tarred by its words as his lower jaw unhinged and hung open. The unfiltered truth coming from the soulless animated creature rendered him powerless.

 “Fuck away from me yo,” he whimpered. “Get away from me!”

“You are distressed due to guilt,” it analyzed. “I shall return once you are in a calmer state of mind.”

As it slithered away, Laurence roared. He roared and bawled mixing in incoherent wording. The only audible word to come from his lips was “Mary”. He continued to bellow until he lost strength in his legs and dropped to the floor. He clutched his belly as a sharp grief set in, adding to his tears. Images of Rosemary flashed before his eyes. There was a lot of bad, but some good, especially the times when they mustered enough strength to remain sober for an hour or two and just lay together staring into one another’s eyes while taking turn tracing each other’s hands with their fingertips as the world disappeared, leaving just them for a little while.

Those tiny sweet droplets of memory were slowly engulfed by the haunting final images of her face before her death. Eventually nothing came from his mouth as it remained locked and contoured by bitter regret, as he lay there on the metal floor of the alien vessel.

 It was supposed to be him, not her …it was supposed to be him.

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Days later, Laurence lay in the pod staring at his arm; he wasn’t sure how long he had been in that state, since there wasn’t a window or device to update him on the time. He didn’t care. He lounged there gazing at the arm that had once been whittled down to nothing, riddled with calluses and sores from needle injections. Now it was strong and healthy, healthier than it had been in years. There wasn’t one scar left from the damage he had done to himself. On top of that, the craving to get high was gone, possibly forever. It was as if the four years had never happened. He however could find no joy in his new lease on life, due to its price being so heavy. Visions of Rosemary brought forth no more tears but left him in a numbed state that he refused to pull himself out of. His plan was to lay there in that pod at the bottom of the ocean and rot to make fair exchange.

His eyes rolled in disgust as his ears picked up the sound of the mechanized serpent that constantly interrupted this plan. For the umpteenth time, it slithered back into the medical bay to check on him. It periodically came in and asked for verbal confirmation of his condition. When he did not respond, it would do some kind of scan to get the answer for itself. It would ask him if he required nourishment, to which he would give it his back letting it know he wanted it to leave him alone.

This time it did not bother ask him how he felt and just went for the scan. While it was scanning him, he took the time through dismissive eyes to give it a good look over. It was large, the size of an Amazon jungle anaconda. Its golden scale hood was so large it appeared capable of flight. Its entire body was comprised of the gold metal that Pops had confirmed was not gold, yet when it slithered across the ground it made no scraping sound against the hard silver colored floor. Its beady eyes emitted a reddish glow but turned to blue when it scanned him. It also did not open its mouth when it spoke to him.

 “You have not ingested sustenance in over three days since your awakening,” the metal cobra stated after completing its scan. “Although you are now able to endure longer without food and liquids; you still must maintain a reasonable diet to stabilize your health.”

Laurence rolled over giving it his back while continuing his silent treatment.

“You will leave me no choice but to take measures to ensure that you maintain balanced nutrition.” It calmly warned.

“I’d like to see you try that shit,” he snorted.

The cushion he had been laying on sunk, knocking him out of his smug state dropping him on his back.

“What the …?”

Before he could sit up, parts of the cushion became malleable and wrapped around his arms and legs, securing him in the pod.

“Fuck you doing yo?” He roared.

“Your current fragile mental and emotional state is compromising your health,” stated the familiar. “I must take measures to maintain your physical form until your mind makes the proper adjustments.”

“Let me go!” He barked. “I order you to let me go!”

“I will not obey your commands if they violate set protocols,” it returned. “Self-endangerment of one’s own existence due to psychological issues is one of those protocols.”

Enraged, Laurence growled as he fought with all of his strength to pull himself from the clutches of the cushion material holding him down.

“It is useless to struggle, even with your upgraded physiology …”

A furious Laurence ripped his right hand free of the cushion and pulled himself halfway to sitting.

“I have miscalculated,” the familiar calmly observed.

Before Laurence could get his left arm free, the cushion morphed into five lashing tendrils that wrapped around his arm, pulling it back down again. Additional tendrils formed from the cushion, further securing his limbs and upper torso.

“Your enhanced strength is far greater than I calculated it to be.”

Struggling and unable to move, Laurence nervously watched the familiar slither to the wall on the opposite side of the room. A small circular port opened, and it stuck the end of its tail inside.

“Wha …whatch you doin?” he stuttered.

“I plan to provide you with the proper nourishment until you can feed yourself,” it answered.

It pulled its tail from out of the hole as the tip transformed into a very sharp and thick needle point.

“Whoa! Whoa!” He screamed. “What you doing with that?”

“I intend to administer an abdominal injection to fulfill your daily intake requirement,” it answered. “The initial injection will be quite painful, and you will feel a sensation as if you’re about to urinate. I am ninety percent sure that will not happen.”

It slithered back to him, increasing in size and length so that its tail could get into range to stick him in the gut.

“You ain’t got to do this yo! You ain’t got to do this!” He let out a frightened wail. “I’ll eat! I’ll eat! I want to eat! I said I want to eat! Give me something to eat dammit!”

His request halted the familiar’s injection mid-strike. The point of its syringe-converted tail hovered inches from his abdomen. It retracted its tail and shrank back down to its normal size as the cushion released him. An unnerved Laurence sprang from the pod and scrambled away, crashing back-first into a wall to get as far away from it as possible. His attention quickly went back to the familiar.

“Please follow me; I shall guide you to the dining hall.”

His tried to clutch his heart which fluttered within his chest as he watched it slither away. It halted at the entrance to wait for him. Lacking the strength for another altercation, he forced his feet to move, keeping a safe distance as he followed.

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Minutes later, Laurence sat with a screwed up face looking around at an oval hall with a similar color scheme to the med bay. The table and chair were large and small round disks that detached from the floor and remained suspended in place at the required heights via magnetized polarization.

The cause of his sourpuss was the silver bowl in front of him that contained a white milky substance with various types of chunks within it. He leaned in closer to give it a whiff, and then recoiled as the sharp stench popped him in the nose.

“Hey yo,” he turned to the familiar. “What the hell is this?”

“A healthy mixture of protein, calcium, grains, vegetables, and fruit which also provides H20,” it answered. “It contains the requirements for a proper diet.”

He leaned in taking another whiff, and then dipped his finger into it. He retracted the finger with a chunk on it, and begrudgingly inserted it into his mouth for a taste. It came back out into the bowl with a wad of saliva from a grossed-out Laurence.

“Oh hell no yo!” He choked. “This tastes like straight sweaty butt crack!”

“I am not equipped with taste buds,” the familiar stated. “So I cannot confirm what sweaty butt crack tastes like.”

“It takes like this!” He violently pointed. “I can’t eat this shit!”

“I intended to inject you with the same substance.” It revealed to him. “Would you prefer the injection?”

“No yo! If you want me to eat then I want
Earth food
,” he stood up and put his foot down, as his seating floated away. “And I want out of this tin can! I need
real
air! You got me suffocating at the bottom of the ocean up in this bitch!”