Restoration of the Golden Orbs: A Mind-blowing Journey into an Alien World

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter One. Arrival on Sartan

Chapter Two. The Volks’ Dome

Chapter Three. Strategies

Chapter Four. The Soma

Chapter Five. Satyryx’s Diabolical Plans

Chapter Six. Into the Caverns of Darkness

Chapter Seven. Captured

Chapter Eight. Rescue

Chapter Nine. A Grim State of Affairs

Chapter Ten. Endless Suffering

Chapter Eleven. Escape

Chapter Twelve. Grim times - Glimmer of Hope

Chapter Thirteen. Paranoia

Chapter Fourteen. Increasing Divisions

Chapter Fifteen. Stalemate

Chapter Sixteen. Victory At Last

Chapter Seventeen. Enigma

Epilogue

Book Two of the Series Mind Power

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my wife, Julie, who has been with me at every step of the novel, encouraging me, and offering constructive suggestions. I would also like to acknowledge Daisy McCauley for the extensive time she has devoted to demonstrating weaknesses in the plot; pace; characterisation; and assisting me with the use of imagery. I am also deeply indebted to Annie Girard. This novel would be very different without her careful editorial skills and I am indebted to the love and care she has given me in the process.

Prologue

The tall, dark-skinned goblin-like Satyryx paused before the large, red door with the ornate, golden plate pinned to it. His large, thin face seemed very drawn and his left eye appeared to be opening and shutting spasmodically. He knocked softly on the imposing portal, waiting, taking in a deep breath to stop shivering.

He heard a deep throaty response. ‘Come in and stop all that fear dripping off you.’ His heart began to palpitate. He felt a trickle of cold sweat trickle down his ear. ‘That’s not how Satyryx behave.’

He trembled as he entered the richly-decorated room and felt the soft, plush carpet beneath his feet. However, it did nothing to dispel his fears.

‘Ah it’s you, Fetik. You certainly took your time.’ The figure held down his gaze refusing to meet the intimidating face staring at him. ‘I hope you have come to report the success of your mission?’

The question increased the distress swarming in Fetik’s mind. At first, he said nothing and just stared moodily at the ground, but he failed to stop the pumping of the vein in his neck.

‘Well? What have you to report?’ Fetik felt hot breath searing his face. ‘Don’t keep me waiting,’ roared Saggabub, the Satyryx leader, who swivelled his large chair round to stare disdainfully at the shuddering figure before him.

‘I did my best, my Lord, and I nearly managed to control and kill him . . .’ He tried to calm his nerves with a deep breath and continued, ‘but each time I came close, that damned, multi-wheeled Orf showed up to protect and assist him.’ His words faltered as his fear took hold and consumed him again.

‘So where is he now? Did you at least contain him with your barriers until we can take further measures?’ His leader’s eyes seemed to bulge out of his head. ‘Well, speak up, you bumbling fool.’

Fetik hung his head and once more began to respond, but his words came out hardly above a whisper. ‘I’m afraid he might even be here, at Sartan . . . at this present moment.’ He saw Saggabub’s scowl but knew he had to reveal the truth. ‘After my last attempt I used so much energy I found myself close to death—I was forced to flee back here to safety.’ He realised the irony of the use of his last word and stared dully at the leader’s menacing countenance.

Saggabub’s eyes darkened as he rose to his feet in a flurry. ‘I send you on an important mission and you fail in every respect. I’m utterly ashamed of you.’ His lips gathered together in a snarl. ‘You have precisely an hour to collect your belongings and remove yourself from our coveted Cavern.’

Saggabub paused and Fetik seemed to be imprisoned in a glare as if he was being scrutinised under the hottest search light. The next words filled him with the deepest dismay. ‘If we locate you from this time on, you will be unmercifully killed and your heart will be fed to the scavengers.’ His eyes blazed red. And he roared, ‘Go!’

Chapter One

Arrival on Sartan

Dylan examined his family as they sat around the table eating their evening meal. It all seemed so normal. His mother criticised his sixteen-year-old brother, Liam for eating so fast and suggested that he needed to savour his food so he could digest it easily. He was only one year older than Dylan but still liked to assert his authority over him. He observed his sisters, Jasmine and Amy, absorbed in an intense conversation about who they regarded as the best teacher at their school. Their dad was reading his newspaper. He paused and addressed his family. ‘Here’s an interesting article. It’s about a boy missing in Rotorua where we visited the other year. I’ll read it to you:

Dr Bentham baffled as fourteen-year-old boy disappears from ER department at Rotorua Hospital. He looked around ensuring he had captured the attention of all his family and continued to read.

"On 14 November a young boy was admitted to the ER and went to the toilet. After a time, when the boy failed to reply to their inquiries, they opened the door forcefully. They found the room vacant with no possible exit. The boy left a scribbled note on toilet paper explaining he was fine but had to leave quickly.

Despite a thorough search for him, not a trace of him was discovered. To date, there are no clues to solve this intriguing mystery.

Dylan’s dad continued to read the newspaper. Dylan squirmed in his chair and felt his cheeks burning. His experiences when he translocated to Rotorua rushed through his mind. Please, Mum, for once, don’t look at me. You’ll know immediately something’s up. I don’t want to lie. When Dylan looked at his Mum, he saw her looking at the new, red cupboards with a smile on her face. Thank goodness, he thought. That was a close one. He gratefully continued to eat.

Dylan found it difficult to imagine that in a matter of a few hours he would be in a strange land, with all sorts of dangers and all sorts of problems that he was expected to solve. His mind spun back to his memory of Orf, his alien mentor from Sartan, when Orf had first asked him to return with him to his planet to resolve the dire situation there. At first, he had resolutely refused the assignment, but when he realised his family was endangered by creatures from this planet, plus the dream he had experienced, he felt forced to change his mind and take up the mission. But am I going to be able to meet Orf’s incredible expectations of me? Despite his memory of Orf’s teaching, large doubts continued to assault his mind.

His mother, observant as usual, noticed his intense introspection. ‘Is everything okay, Dylan? You do know you can talk to me if there’s something on your mind, don’t you?’ she asked as she looked up from the curtains she was making. It had been largely her decision to come to Perth to provide her children with more opportunities than living in a rather remote, rural location. At times she had wondered if she had made the right decision as Dylan had not found the change easy, but he had seemed to blossom in the past three months. She missed working at the animal sanctuary, but at the moment her family was her main focus.

‘Everything’s fine, Mum.’

Dylan smiled at his mum, realising how lucky he was to possess a caring and nurturing mother, even if she fussed over him at times. He knew she still worried about him because of what she thought was his imaginary friend, but lately he had shown her that he’d handled his life well. She also became careful not to judge him too hastily after her mistake over thinking he had been cheating at school, without providing him with a chance to explain his version of events.

He regarded his two sisters and realised that most of the time they wanted to help, even if Jasmine behaved rather self-centredly at times. His gaze next focussed on Liam. He thought about all the mean tricks Liam had played on him and then remembered the rather helpless figure he had encountered in his bedroom a short time ago, revealing he had completely failed his maths test and how Dylan had helped him overcome his problems with positive affirmations and visualisation. He realised he really did love his big brother, despite everything, and he would miss his ugly face.

Then his mind focussed on Salena, the daughter of his teacher, the notorious Mrs Blackston. Immediately the image of her smile, her sparkling eyes and her shining glossy hair made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He had held a candle for her for a long time. He reflected on how caring and compassionate he found her as a person, always ready to listen to others and provide any assistance, if needed. She admitted that she really liked him and, just at the wrong time, circumstances forced him to leave her and, really, he felt unsure of the future, despite Orf telling him of his ability to manipulate time. What if I never see her again? If only Salena could come with me and be company for me in the strange land and provide help to me when needed. He rebuked himself for his selfishness. I would be endangering a person for whom I really cared. He tried to erase Salena’s image from his mind with little success.

He cast one more, fond look around the room, careful not to arouse his mother’s attention, and left the table. He strolled into the lounge to relax by watching television for a short time before he finished his homework, but he just found himself unable to concentrate on his favourite sitcom. He rose and walked down the corridor to his room.

He knew he needed to finish his creative narrative and some HASS (Humanities and Social Science) sheets for the next day but, again, these tasks seemed so trivial and insignificant in terms of his destination that night. Then he remembered that Orf had told him he could return to his home with very little time having elapsed, making his family unaware of his journey away. It all seemed too far-fetched for his mind to comprehend, but he didn’t want to get back in the formidable Mrs Blackston’s bad books, especially after he’d just received his first few praises from her. He pinched himself and affirmed to himself: I am going to complete my two tasks of homework efficiently and repeated the words three times. He found that his focus returned and the next few hours whisked by, though at times, he doubted himself and his old fears of inadequacy assailed him. His new powers then came into play and he possessed the ability to conquer his doubts and fears with positive affirmations. He reflected that, in the past, his fears would have vanquished him.

His wisdom told him not to start packing until everyone departed to bed. He didn’t want to risk his mother or his brother or sisters coming in and having to explain why he was packing his suitcase. He rummaged through his school bag and found the last book in the Narnia series that had provided intense enjoyment for him up to this point. He read the same paragraph three times before he put the book down.

Then his diary caught his attention. He strolled over, opened it, and skimmed through it. Yes, it reminded him of how alone and uncomfortable he had felt, coming from his small country town to the big city of Perth and adjusting to a huge school where he knew no one. The incessant bullying by Ethan had made his life a misery, and being unfortunate enough to score Mrs Blackston as a teacher hadn’t helped his situation. He skimmed to another page and it prompted him to remember how his sisters and brother had rendered his life at home difficult, never giving him any peace to do what he wanted to do.

He turned to the page where Orf, the strange Volk, had arrived in his green suit, with his lop-sided face and the multiple wheels which allowed him to travel so easily in any direction he chose. Dylan at first regarded him as an intruder, but Orf had taught him how to find his inner stillness, rid himself of his inner anger and frustrations and learn to listen to his intuitive voice. Orf had taught him how to interpret his dreams. How significant that had proved for him in his personal journey What a difference Orf had made to his life. He had learnt to cope with the foibles of his teacher and deal with the bullying of Ethan so that, in the end, Ethan became his friend. In addition, he had been able to help Ethan deal with the problems of an abusive father.

He skimmed to another entry. How prejudiced he had been towards Lauren with her problems of obesity and seeming standoffishness. Her courage to express her problems to the class had inspired him to become more honest in confronting his own problems, such as his fear of reading in front of the class. The next page he turned to brought up further memories: how he had suddenly found himself materialising in a strange house, confronting a very unsavoury domestic situation in the house of a fellow student, Michael, and how he had saved the day by stopping the violent acts of Michael’s father by his sudden appearance and the healing he had provided for him.

He put the diary down for a moment and considered how far his journey had taken him. He no longer felt suffocated by his siblings because he had openly confronted them with his needs. In fact, he had even assisted his brother, despite Liam’s former mean pranks. He reflected how his parents had thought he had mental problems when he tried to explain the advent of Orf into his life, leading to a very embarrassing visit to the psychiatrist. But all that was in the past. Then he thought of all the incredible skills Orf had taught him: the ability to lift, by telekinesis, large objects high into the air; build barriers to protect himself; the talent to heal large numbers of people through mental healing; the considerable proficiency to telepathize with others without making a sound; and last, but not least, the talent to translocate, travelling large distances in moments.

The positive memories became temporarily forgotten as Dylan remembered his menacing nightmares leading later to the horrific attack in his own home by the other-world Satyryx, who nearly killed him. Thoughts flashed through his mind of Orf revealing that he possessed a secret agenda, as Dylan had long suspected, and that was to take him, with his special aura, to Orf’s planet, Sartan, and his undertakings to save the inhabitants from the insidious, Satyryx creatures who were defiling his planet and making life a misery for the Volks and the Myrds who lived there. The Satyryx had destroyed the Golden Orbs, which had maintained a perfect harmony over Sartan for thousands of years. Dylan remembered again how, at first, he had firmly rejected this mission, but when he had a dream suggesting he needed to take up the challenge, and when he realised his own family members were in danger, he had reluctantly changed his mind. Yes, his life had certainly undergone massive changes in the past year.

He strolled to the window and quietly opened the curtains. He observed the full moon hanging in the sky and scrutinised the outlines of its landscape. He gazed at the stars shining in the night sky and wondered which stars Orf and his people viewed from his planet, Sartan, and if any of them could be seen from Earth.

Then his ears picked up a familiar sound which made his heart begin to beat as fast as a drummer boy’s before an ancient battle. The sound of Orf’s gyrating wheels gave him both pleasure and pain as he realised the mind-blowing assignment he had accepted. He gazed into Orf’s blazing eyes and heard in his own mind: The time has come for us to depart. I know your family is still awake, but I will erect a sound and light barrier around this room so no one will hear anything or will be able to enter. Hurry up and pack three sets of warm thick clothes, remembering how grimly cold and unpleasant conditions are on Sartan under the Satyryx domination. Take as much water-proof clothing as you can, as you have seen how wet it is.

Dylan searched his cupboards for his warmest and most waterproof clothes and soon his suitcase started to bulge. It became necessary for him to sit on it twice to force it to close. Finally, perched on the suitcase, he informed Orf of his readiness for departure.

Orf locked his eyes on Dylan. By the Revs of the Orbs. Come on. Keep your mind clear, he spoke aloud, his eyes blazing and his ears resonating strongly. You have chosen appropriate clothes for your suitcase’ He paused and stared at his initiate. But what about what you are wearing now? Do you want to freeze when you get there?

Dylan looked down at his shorts and short-sleeved T-shirt, his face reddening like a ripe tomato. Quickly, he found some more thick, warm, winter clothes and put them on and stood perspiring in the warm house.

What about some warm gloves? He gave Dylan a frown. Do you want your hands to freeze?’

Hastily Dylan found his warm gloves and put them on. Orf examined him and gave him a look of approval and asked him, ‘Are you ready for the long journey? Brace yourself for a shock,’ he warned. ‘You will need to use all the skills I have taught you, and more.’ The muscles twitched in his lop-sided face as his expression became quite grim. He stared at the young boy before him.

Ready? Translocating now.

Dylan’s heart started to beat wildly. It’s happening! Am I really ready? Out of the corner of his eye Dylan sensed another figure. Who’s that? Can it be a Satyryx? Oh no! But yet . . . it seems familiar.

These thoughts faded away as he felt as if he tumbled into nothingness, yet he harboured no feelings of anxiety or distress. Then the darkness became broken by flashes of intense light. Next, he found himself back in the darkness. The pattern repeated itself many times: dark, light, dark, light. He tried to take in the events rapidly flashing before him, but found it too strange for his mind to encompass it all. Suddenly, he felt a change and his senses began to witness a new setting.

* * *

Despite Orf’s warning, Dylan could not believe the severity of the conditions when they arrived on Sartan. The ground underneath his feet seemed covered by a mantle of hardened, icy snow, which he found difficult to stand on without slipping forward precariously. His vision became impaired by thick, grey cloud that swirled erratically around him, so he only managed to see a few feet ahead. His breath funnelled out, creating small white balloons, seemingly made from fine, white tissues. Cold pierced him, as if icy needles were being injected into all parts of his body. The wind ravaged through the barren landscape making his eyes red raw in moments, reducing his vision even more. He tried to rub his eyes with his hands to rid them of the salty tears which poured down his frozen face, but his gloves, now frozen hard, proved inflexible. He soon gave up his futile efforts. It’s so unbelievably cold. I’ve never realised cold could provide so much pain. I just can’t think properly.

He endeavoured to take in the scene before him and, during that time, he heard the sound of water. The next moment, a great gush knocked him off his feet. He found himself floundering in the most chilling water that he could possibly imagine. He felt all the warmth sucked out of his body. He started to experience extreme difficulty in breathing. The pain in his ears became excruciating. He felt all the energy in his body disappearing, as if he had just run a gruelling marathon.

Orf’s words broke through his thoughts: Grab on to the rope just by your left hand. Dylan tried to use his eyes, but all he saw appeared to be a cloud of blackness. He felt around in the water but found nothing. His fears started to control him. His mind became almost blank. Then, to his enormous relief, he discerned something coarse and stringy. He gripped it with all his might. At first, his sodden gloves made little contact. With sheer determination he forced his fingers to close. Finally, he felt the rope between his fingers. He sensed his body being pulled from the icy water but, just as he began to feel some relief and hope restored in his mind, his fingers lost their grip. Once more he experienced the icy water encircle his body. He surrendered to a sense of utter defeat.

A part of him wanted to give up until he heard the desperate words of Orf in his mind once more: Don’t give up! Help is at hand. Try once again to feel for the rope. It is now on your right side.

Listlessly Dylan reached out to his right. It seemed to take an age before he felt the coarse rope. He hung on grimly, knowing that if he failed to succeed this time, it would be his end. He felt himself dragged vigorously out of the freezing water and into comparative warmth. He started to breathe more freely and his watery eyes began to clear. Dimly he perceived a shape to the left of him. What’s that? It looks like a figure. A person? But there couldn’t be anyone else here, in this sucking, gushing tunnel of whipping winds and dark-blue, flashing lights. He saw it again out of the corner of his eye. Is someone else being transported? Straining, he tried to turn his head. The winds blew shards of light into his eyes and he managed to see no more. His head began to spin. Abruptly, he became aware of a distressed voice that he only just heard above the raging wind that tore at his face. It seemed like a figment of his imagination. A deep part of him listened intently. At last, he began to make out clear words.

‘Help me. I’m freezing to de-e-ath. My lips and tongue are so st-iff. Soon I’ll be unable to speak. Please help me!’

Dylan wiped the icy tears from his eyes and stared ahead into the grey gloom. Who is it? It’s familiar but . . . Slowly, he made out a hazy, wraith-like figure with hands outspread, pleading for assistance. He moved towards the figure through the murk but still failed to recognise its identity. A strand of icicles curtained its face, and its clothes seemed stiff and frozen. Yet something about its posture triggered something in Dylan’s stolid brain and he suddenly realised . . . he stared at a frozen . . . No! It can’t be.

He stared again with all the intensity of his being, but his eyes told him the same thing. He realised he saw an image of a very frozen Salena. His mind went into a whirl. She is actually here on Sartan. He felt weak at the knees with deep emotions surging through him. But then, excitement bubbled inside him, so delighted was he at her presence. Then the logical part of his mind clicked in. How did she get here? How can I help her? How can I protect her in this perilous land?

Then his mind cleared and he searched for ways to assist her. He tried to open one of the zips in his jacket, but his stiff, frozen fingers prevented him from having any traction. Then he remembered the possibility of constructing psychic barriers around them to protect them. He tried to find his centre of stillness, but the harsh conditions rendered this very difficult at first.

Nevertheless, with sheer determination, he finally managed it. He formed a protective barrier around Salena and felt darkness enfold him as he finally succumbed to the stressful conditions.

* * *

When Dylan opened his eyes, he began to make out shapes all around him. At first, because the shapes seemed so dark, he assumed them to be the Satyryx. He tried to rise to his feet.

Orf’s words came to him: Relax, Dylan, these are the Myrds, who are our allies against the Satyryx. He gave him a reassuring smile. They will help us until we can get to the Volk enclosure.’

As his vision started to clear, Dylan realised he lay in some sort of cavern. Sitting up, he gazed between the bodies of those standing around him and gasped at the sheer magnitude of the underground chamber. He knew there was a roof, somewhere above his head, but it seemed like a dark arch far above him. Overhead, gas lights illuminated the high ceilings, creating dark shadows as their flames fluctuated in the unpredictable down-drafts that gusted through the cavern. Rough, wooden structures dotted the whole gallery, laid out without any recognisable pattern. On closer inspection, many seemed very old and dilapidated, giving off a smell of mould and decay. Dylan found himself sneezing several times. The sights in the building made him realise that he gazed not on a thriving civilisation, but at one that struggled to survive.

He discerned the familiar figure of Orf, who seemed to be conversing intensely with a very tall, thin figure who gesticulated energetically towards what Dylan assumed to be the entrance to the inner cavern. The figure turned around and walked sedately up to Dylan and bent down before him and prostrated himself on the rocky floor at Dylan’s feet. Dylan found himself totally non-plussed. Why was the figure acting so weirdly? How was he supposed to respond? He stared at the motionless, bowed figure. Then he heard Orf’s gyrating wheels become louder. He felt a shock shiver through him when he looked into Orf’s eyes. Instead of his eyes blazing, they appeared lack-lustre and extremely pale.

Suddenly his mind regained its clarity. He remembered Salena and shouted in a hoarse voice to Orf, ‘What about Salena? She’s stuck out there in the freezing blizzard.’ Orf tried to respond but Dylan cut him off. ‘What’s happened to her? We need to help her,’ he implored, with his hands outstretched.

Orf hovered close to Dylan and spoke gently, stroking Dylan’s face. It’s okay. She’s resting in the area for the sick. He sent Dylan healing thoughts. We’ve given her dry, warm clothes and food and, although a bit worse for wear, she will be fine once she recovers from her ordeal.

‘But what I can’t comprehend is how she came to end up on Sartan.’ His fingers drummed on the side of the bed. ‘It’s so dangerous here at the moment.’ His thoughts became discordant as his anxiety for Salena seeped through him.

I’m puzzled myself. Orf replied. I certainly did not focus on her molecules and yet she arrived with us in some way’ His eyes took on a distant look and Dylan knew he was pondering. The only explanation is that fate intervened and brought her here to assist you in accomplishing your mission.’

‘Another thing I don’t understand,’ Dylan said, ‘is that I formed a protective barrier around her.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘How did you manage to break through?’

When you passed out, the protective barrier weakened. So, I managed to penetrate it quite easily. After that the Myrds carried both of you to the safety of their Enclosure. Orf handed Dylan a language translator. This will help you to communicate with the Myrds.

Dylan regarded the small square black box, considering how it might work, and then refocused on his mentor’s lop-sided face as he communicated once more. Ask our friend here to stand up and direct us to his Council Members. Circumstances have deteriorated since I left.’ A deep frown started to furrow his face. The Myrds informed me that they remain virtual prisoners in this chamber, because if they move more than five hundred metres from this cavern, they come in contact with a fresian barrier.

Dylan frowned back and looked quizzically at Orf. ‘What’s a fresian barrier?’

It is a unique barrier developed by the Satyryx, using their black arts.

‘But what does it do?’

I’m coming to that so stop interrupting me. His face softened as he realised that he needed to use more patience with his charge. It first renders foes unconscious and then, while in this state, their minds are taken over.

Dylan’s face paled. What had he become involved in? How could he assist against such dark arts being practised? As he continued to listen to Orf his fears only intensified. He paused once more and gave Dylan a searching look. This means that the Myrds no longer maintain access to their usual sources of food and water and supplies, which are rapidly diminishing.

Dylan’s mind boggled and he felt the blood rushing from his face snatching all the colour out of it. ‘How on earth am I expected to deal with something as bad as that?’

You are not expected to solve all our problems by yourself, Dylan. Orf’s smile gave Dylan a bit of hope. You will have all our Volk community and all the Myrds assisting you at every step. I am just informing you of some of the difficulties we are confronting. He paused in his telepathy regarding the Myrds surrounding him.

If you look around you will notice how spectre-thin the Myrds are growing. They used to be well known for their athletic, muscular bodies with their incredible strength. Now they are reduced to the skeletal bodies you see before you. Dylan found it difficult to imagine Myrds with such strong bodies. His imagination