The Chronicles of Han Storm

Chronicles of Han Preserving Creata Book1 Cover Page ISBN 001 Web Preserving Creata

 saturdayscenes Part 1 Chapter 6 preserving creata chronicles of han storm 

Han investigates the Life Memory of another Detective, as well as making use of his Psychic skills to locate a kidnapped girl.

Preserving Creata Part One, Chapter Six


*** Six ***

    I actually slept, dreamless, and felt much better when I woke late afternoon.

    The sun was starting to settle down behind the city, enveloping my room in a red and orange glow. I freshened up and went to the guest room which doubled as my meditation room. After closing the door and the curtains, I lit some candles and incense.

    Settling cross-legged on the carpet in a meditative pose, I faced my newest problem.

    Since I can remember, I have always been able to visit the Universal recordings for Creata. Sensaii called it the Halls of Records or Recording Halls.

    For me, it represented a space somewhat like a library or a computer memory bank. Here, all the actual events happening on this Planet, and life-memories of all individuals with a higher intelligence, were recorded and stored.

    One needed authorization to access this information. Authorization was given to you as your spiritual evolvement progressed.

    I had learnt about this from the private Psychic teacher Zane. At least I had paid attention to that part of his teachings, finding it fascinating that I have always been able to access this Recorded Information System when I was looking for information on whatever I needed.

    I could also access my own records if I needed to see a happening or event in depth. It was as if I was within a movie, but just a spectator, nothing could be altered and I had a chance to see the happenings around me that I had missed the first time round.

    I could consciously access my own life-memories any time I wished.

    Lately, I was allowed to directly access passed over person’s life-memories by way of touching something that presented their life-essence as recently experienced, or so I figured, anyway.

    I was apprehensive that I would not be allowed to access a living, breathing person’s memory record.

    I wondered if it would help if I knew this person? That I’ve actually touched him physically before?

    Sensaii just shrugged. He was not much help either.

    I relaxed body and mind.

    Shortly I felt my flesh starting to go numb, followed by the tug of my spirit leaving my body.

    I concentrated on reaching the personal section of the Recording Halls.

    Keeping the memory of the person I needed, as well as the event I wanted to reach, foremost in my mind, I was pulled along what looked like corridors with hundreds of doors in them.

    These doors represent the individual’s Archives. It felt as if I had walked for ages before I found a door that felt right.

    It had a soft golden glow around it.

    Touching the door, I felt the person I was looking for.

    I turned the handle.

    The door was unlocked.

    I had authorisation to step into the life-memories of Detective David Stone . . .   


    I was Detective Stone.

    Consumed with hate and rage, I drove to the Low-life’s place.

    Sneaking up the porch stairs, I entered through the unlocked back door. He was sitting on his couch, watching home movies as if nothing could harm him.

    As I lifted my granddad’s bat, I reflected that the whole world would be better off without this rogue lord.

    He was one of the most wanted men in New Haven. He was one of the biggest crime lords on Creata.

    But no longer.

    I swung the bat.

    It shattered.

    I knew he was dead before his corpse hit the floor.

    I carefully wrapped the bat in the bag I had brought.

    I kept my mask over my face, just in case they got a psychic out to see what had happened.

    My gloved hands quickly found the evidence of my daughter’s unfortunate escapades.

    I made sure there were no back-ups. The Universe knew it was not her fault for falling for this piece of scum.

    I should have done so many things differently, but I had not.

    I was consumed with guilt.

    It was all my fault.

    I quietly left the way I came in. 

    I had parked the car a block away and only when I was safely on my way, did I dare to take the mask off.

    I went straight home where I stashed the evidence in the extra trench I had dug in the open foundation for the patio at the back of the house. I covered it with dirt and tamped it fast.

    I made sure there were no blood splatters on any of my clothes or in the car. I must say, I had done an excellent job. One blow and not a lot of projecting fluids.

    After cleaning myself up, I went to the hospital where my baby was in ICU, hanging on by a thread.

    Taking her hand in mine, I rested my head on the bed.

    Overdose they said.

    Murder I say.

    Tomorrow will bring its own troubles.

    I’m on standby tonight, and will probably be called out to my own case.

    How ironic.



    The door to David Stone’s memories opened and the light from the passage disrupted the recording.

    I was aware of not being Stone anymore and saw Sensaii beckoning to me urgently.

    I left Stone’s memories and Sensaii hurried me back along the corridors with startling speed.

    I landed back in my body with a start, hearing the urgent knocking on the door.

    Managing to open an eye, only darkness greeted me.

    The candles were out.

    I must have been gone a considerable amount of time.

    The now familiar headache and dry mouth did not bother me so much, but I experienced trouble getting my body going again.

    Tucker gently opened the door to my meditation room as I struggled from the floor.

    My body felt cold and stiff.

    He switched on the light and came over to help me.

    “Where have you been?“ he asked. “You are cold as ice. We should warm you up.”

    For the second time, he helped me to the bathroom like an attentive father and made me stand under the shower, increasing the hot water slowly. He helped me rub my hands and feet to speed up the circulation.

    It was beginning to feel second nature to be pushed into a shower by Tucker. I really appreciated the old man’s help.

    He was also not a chatty person and did not ask a lot of questions. He accepted a lot of things he could not explain. It took a great man to go entirely on faith.

    “Why do you help me, Tuck?”

    “I’m responsible for your wellbeing. It is my duty. And my honour. I think it makes me feel wanted again. You know I have nothing except the job, and you certainly need the help. The way you are carrying on, I’m starting to think about moving in with you.”

    He laughed his big, belly shaking laugh. It was good to see him laughing. It made me want to laugh, too. I smiled back at him.

    “I’m pretty much thawed out. You think you can order in some food. I’ve finished what I had left in the apartment when I came home yesterday.”

    Tucker left to order food and, I hoped, to make some coffee. I dried and dressed and had a quick peek in the mirror.

    I did look better. There was some colour back in my cheeks and most of the blue under my eyes was gone, as well as the puffiness. Maybe I’m getting the hang of this ‘vision’ thing now. I surely hoped so. It was really hard work, mentally and physically.

    I smelt coffee before I reached the kitchen.

    Tucker presented me with a huge mug as I sat down at the table.

    “The Flatbread place was the only one still open. We’ll pick it up on our way” he said while I drained the coffee and gave him an inquiring look.

    “We were summoned by the Captain to an address on Upper Hill. It sounded pretty desperate and I said we’re on our way, I just had to pick you up first. I tried phoning, but I see that your communicator is on silent.”

    He handed me my comm and I stashed it in its holder at my belt.

    “You also make a habit of not locking your door. I hammered a few times and then just walked in. I’m glad I did. Are you going to tell me where you went in that meditation, or must I rather mind my own business?”

    Well, for a man with few words that certainly was a lot.

     “I’ll tell you on the way, after the food” I answered him.



    Three Flatbreads later and I was starting to feel really mellow and happy again. I knew Tucker was waiting for an answer and, as I did not want to reveal the whole truth, I decided to compromise.

    “Our little Low-life was actually the crime-lord known as Blitz” I announced.

    Tucker whistled. “Do you have any proof?”

    “Of course not! You know how this works. I can only tell you what I saw. It is up to others to follow the leads and do the investigations. I can also not tell who had killed him as he did not see anything before his death.”

    The lie came out sounding part of the conversation and I hoped that Tucker would not pick up on it.

    “Okay. I’ll take your word for it, but I know that you are not telling me everything. I’m sure you are being prevented from giving me everything by some higher force or something and I’ll adhere to that. I’ll put it down that even you guys have your limits.”

    And here I thought I was the psychic!

    Lots of people knew things, they were just too indoctrinated or scared to allow their talents to grow. It probably was a good thing. We did not want criminals to be able to know things in advance. That would really be looking for trouble.

    Or are there some of my kind who have already turned to the darker paths?

    I put the thought out of my mind. Let me concentrate first now on training myself in these new things. Time to worry about darker things when I might come across it.



    We entered the Northern suburbs that stretched up into the mountains. This was prime property and only the richest people could afford to live here. About halfway up Upper Hill we turned into a massive driveway.

    A huge, old building was nestled snugly into the mountainside. Half of it was exposed, the other half was dug into the mountain itself.  It did not look like a very friendly place, but the grounds were kept impeccably neat and I expected the house to be the same.

    There were two vehicles already parked in the driveway. I recognized the Captain’s vehicle as one of them.

    Tucker’s voice cut through my thoughts.

    “That is the vehicle that Skinner uses. He’s with Missing Persons.”

    It was already in the early hours of the morning. This was not a good time to be missing a person.

    We were met at the door by Captain Truman. Looking past the Captain, I could see a middle-aged couple in the lounge with Skinner.

    “The ransom note was delivered yesterday” Captain Truman informed us. “The Partry's sorted the funds out today and were promised their daughter back by nightfall. The ransom was paid, but their daughter is still not home, nor have we received any information as to her whereabouts. Steve only contacted me after midnight.

    He is a personal friend of mine and little Georgia is my god-child. Please Han, if there is anything you can do for us. I would like to handle this as quietly as possible.”

    This was very serious. The Captain was actually begging me and he never used first names.

    “Where’s her room?” I wanted to know.

    “Come.” He led us to an upstairs bedroom.

    Tucker requested the Captain to wait downstairs. “We’ll come down as soon as we’re done.”

    It was a typical little girl’s room with loads of soft toys and dolls. Pink and white frills decorated the fairy world of this child.

    Looking around for a catalyst, I decided on her pillow. It was unwashed and still had her smell on it. It was ideal.

    Tucker stood guard with his back to the closed door, effectively blocking any unwanted entry.

“Please, whatever happens, let me finish in my own time” I advised.

    Tucker nodded, looking very uncomfortable.



    Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the carpet, hugging the pillow, I allowed my spirit to be pulled out of my body.

    At first I thought that I would go to Georgia’s life-memory file. Instead, I found myself hovering on a dark plane with hundreds of pinpricks of light upon it.

    In my wildest dreams, I have never imagined such a place to exist.

    What I was experiencing was the actual pulsating lights of entities in the city. Each light represented an entity of high intelligence. Tucker’s aura was recognizable around his light essence and, as he was the nearest to me, I definitely knew it to be him.

    Already having picked up on Georgia’s vibration, or particle signature through her pillow, I set out seeking for it.

    I shot, what felt like upwards, until I could see more auras and lights.

    Resting a while at this high place, I focused all my attention on Georgia’s essence, silently asking for Georgia’s spiritual Guardian to help me find her.

    Just as I perceived Sensaii enveloping my aura and light, keeping me safe from harm, I knew every person had such entities around them. I felt that Georgia’s Guardian might be able to help.

    Sensing a pulling sensation towards what I perceived to be the lower regions of the city, I allowed myself to be pulled down towards a handful of lights.

    Totally surprised by the sudden sharp lights and noise, I blinked.

    *Who are you?* A little girl’s voice said inside my head.

    I was sharing Georgia’s body and it felt extremely cramped. 

    *I’m a friend of your daddy’s and I’m going to send someone to take you home. Right now, I need your help to find out where you are. Okay?*

    *Yes. I’ll help you.*

    It was amazing that the child was acceptable to what I was making her share.

    Through her eyes I saw that we were in a warehouse. Everything smelt of fish, so it was definitely one of the fish packing plants. Our tiny body was not injured in any way and not restrained. We were in a small room filled with cans of fish.

    Georgia was too little to have learnt to read, so I quickly scanned the labels. We took a pallet of fish to the door, struggling, for it was very heavy.

    Eventually we had it at the door and clambered upon it. We barely managed to see out of the sliver of window by standing on the tips of our toes.

    There were people arguing outside and we were able to hear snatches of the conversation. Some of the people were arguing that we should be returned to Georgia’s parents. They’ve already paid the ransom and the Security Forces were not yet involved.

    Some wanted to leave us here in this place, and some wanted to get rid of us. They all seemed to be waiting for someone.

    I softly separated myself from the little girl. She did not want me to leave, but she already knew that I would bring help.

    I hastened back to my own body . . .



    I took a huge gulp of air as I settled within myself. This experience was not as draining as dealing with the actual life-memory of someone.

    I opened my eyes.

    Tucker rushed over and took my hands. He seemed relieved that I was not too cold and helped me up.

    “She’s unharmed, for now. She’s in the Constant fishery packing plant. In one of the back rooms. We must hurry. They are deciding what to do with her as we speak.”

    Tucker hurried out to Captain Truman while I slipped out to our vehicle. The less everyone knew of me, the better.

    As Tucker started the vehicle, he announced that we were to go home to wait.

    “Skinner has everything under control. He has a squad standing by in every quadrant of the city and there is a squad in the vicinity of the docks already moving in.”

    Tucker’s comm beeped as we entered my home twenty minutes later.

    After a short conversation, Tuck enlightened me.

    “Captain said they found her and made some arrests. They also recovered the ransom. A great night’s work, don’t you think?”

    I just shrugged. I was feeling very drained all of a sudden. It was almost time for normal people to go to work, but I did not think we would be missed too much at work today.

    “I’ll crash on your couch if you do not mind“ Tucker told me. “It seems such a waste going home, just to come out here again in a few hours.”

    I did not bother to reply, going straight through to my room. I only managed to take my shirt off before falling into bed.

    I was asleep almost immediately.



Copyright © H Gibson Chronicles of Han Storm. All rights reserved. 2009-2016

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