The Chronicles of Han Storm

Chronicles of Han Preserving Creata Book1 Cover Page ISBN

Living a Multi-dimensional Life

    Where shall we start? Out of the many lives I’ve lived in the physical realm, which life memory should I recall? I guess the best one should be the latest adventures that started on a Planet called Creata.

Creata can be found in a dimension parallel to what you call Earth, and is very similar to Earth.   

    I am Han, and this is my life-memory . . .



    After the devastating Wars of the Universes, and the closing of the Transport and Planetary Portals, a Bedtime story was told to children about a person that would be born that would change the way we knew life on Creata.

    In the beginning, some people imagined that the story was created to give parents and their children hope at better things, or maybe they wished for the kind of life that their ancestors had enjoyed.

    The story led that, when the time was right, and the peoples were re-opened with the knowledge of the Higher Worlds, The One would return to open the Portals, and Creata, Place of Wealth, would become prosperous once more.

    As the years passed and generation after generation related this story to their children and their children’s children, it passed into Legend.

    Some Clans built their new lives around this Legend.

    Others moved to believe it still a bedtime story . . .

    Creata reverted back to a Planetary Governing Body. The residing Clans were left to decide for themselves where they wanted to take their peoples. Some were capitalists and opted to stay in the Cities and use the technology still available after the Wars.

    Some Clans decided it best for their people to revert back to basics, and some gave their people the option of both worlds.

    Yet, all had to pay allegiance to the Planetary Government. 

Preserving Creata

Chronicles of Han Storm - Book 1

Part 1

Learning Curve


*** One ***


    “So, He-Who-Knows-In-Advance, what do you say to a wager on our first day at work.”

    That was Jack. He was my so-called friend. He actually just looked out for himself, like most people did these days.

    We were preparing for the graduation parade of the New Haven Security Forces Academy. Only five candidates succeeded in finishing this gruelling three month course.

    “Let Han be, you always lose to him anyway!” Stacey stood up for me. She had just stepped out of the showers, water still glistening on her copper skin, a scant towel wrapped around herself.

    There was almost no shyness on Creata and ablution facilities were shared. She had her locker two down from mine.

    Jack was adjusting the tie of his new NHSF parade uniform.

    After today we will be Student Officers for another three months before receiving full officer status and the pay that goes with it.

    Not that I needed money. I had a very lucrative business in the gambling industry. I just thought that I might actually make a difference in innocent New Haven lives by joining the Security Forces.

    I struggled into my restrictive uniform.

    Sighing, I thought to myself that I would have to get used to this, or move up to detective ASAP.

    “So, what odds will we set? Two to one? Three to one? Come on!“ Jack nagged. “I really want you to get something wrong for a change and there is no way you will be able to get this right.”

    Jack always nagged. He was annoying, and it was working.

    “Slick!” I called out to a sandy mop of hair trying to get the buttons of the uniform done.

    “Yeah“ Slick responded, looking up through fogged over spectacles. It was not going to help wiping them yet.

    “Let's make it at least five to one, as we are five, what do you say?” he said, taking out a small notepad and pen. He acted as bookie and we all adhered to it. Not betting himself, he always received a percentage of my winnings.

    Ryan came over from his locker. He was the professional one. His locker was already cleaned out and his travel bag ready to go. “I’ll accept five to one. There is no way Han can possibly get this one right. One of us will be able to get our money back.”

     Jack stood in front of me, as if it would help activate my pre-sight.

    “Okay, so what do you see, what will my Sergeant in Charge look like?” he demanded from me.

    It took a few seconds before I could answer. “Large man, mid forties, salt-and-pepper. Stacey. Black man, open face, laughs a lot. Ryan. Sorry to say, but it looks as if you’re in for it. Solid, old timer with beard. Very particular and, wait . . . perfectionist! Slick. Plains person, yellow skin, strange eyes, can’t get anything more. So, is the bet on?”

    “No!” Jack was adamant.

    We all stared at him. “You said five to one. You only gave us four. We need your own as well” he insisted.

    O-kay. Now, it was one thing telling other people’s futures. It was a totally different ball-game telling my own.

    I wanted this bet. It was easy money and I’ve never been wrong before. Should I chance on myself?

    Yes, I really wanted this.

    Turning from the expectant group, I fiddled with my own tie, watching my reflection in the mirror on the inside of the locker door.

    Looking into my violet-black eyes, I allowed myself to get lost in them, then spoke to the students as if from afar.

    “Old guy, balding, near retirement, genuine smile.”

    I kept fiddling with a perfectly good tie. More was coming through. This was one of those strange, very real-seeming daydreams I sometimes had.

    He was called Tucker. He had the utmost respect for me. He knew I was different. I felt love and compassion from him, as if he had known me all my life, as if he was my dad. As if he knew we were meant to be partners.

    Wanting to pursue this dream/vision, I took a step towards the mirror, bumping my nose. Everyone burst out laughing.

    “All bets confirmed?” Slick wanted to conclude business, adjusting his glasses. He was so far-sighted, he needed those to see up close. He had wonderful natural vision on the shooting range, never missing a bull’s-eye.

    “Yes”, “Uh”, “Yip”, “Definitely” came the replies while I rubbed my sore nose.

    “You’ll all see who will be laughing come First Day” I remarked sourly at them.

    “Now, do not get all hot-headed about good banter” Slick told me. “You’ll have your money soon. That should be revenge enough.”

    Ryan departed with his bag and the rest of us rushed to clear our lockers. Then we followed him outside, leaving Stacey to finish up in peace.

    I never understood why she was always behind with everything. It was a miracle that she made the grades required.

    Luckily we did not have long to wait. Jack was just starting to pick his teeth when she joined us. We left our bags in the passage and headed over to our Commanding Officer.

    With just the five of us, there was not going to be an official parade, just a small ceremony of handing over our badges and our graduation papers.

    We lined up in Sergeant Wilke’s office and stood to attention.

    It was one of Mayor Houghton's duties to welcome new officers to his taskforce. The Universe knew he needed them.

    At the rate crime was climbing in the cities, Security Forces work was popular and well-paid employment. It simply took some doing in finishing the courses and staying alive on the job.

    “I’m so glad you young people decided to serve New Haven. Congratulations to all of you” the mayor said while handing each person a badge and a rolled up certificate. His handshake was clammy and it felt like touching a dead fish.

    He was perspiring by the time he had finished. Wheezing, he turned his bulk to Sergeant Wilke. “I hope these ones last a little longer than the last batch.”

    To us, he smiled and said “Good luck all of you,” before gathering his two private security officers and went on his merry way.

    Sergeant Wilke glared at us. “Right, now that you are officially on the payroll, let me remind you about arrangements for First Day. At the New Haven Precinct. 07h00. Captain Truman’s office. Please make me proud.”

    “You know we will Sergeant” Ryan answered for all of us. “We always give our best.”

    Sergeant Wilke looked me straight in the eye. “I know, some more than others.”

    I kept his gaze. He knew I had much more to give. He broke the contact. Very few people could face up to my stare for long.

    We trooped out of his office, glad that the three months of physical hard work and extraordinary mental input was finally finished.

    Jack noticed that he had Stacey’s badge. We swapped out badges and certificates until everyone had their own.

    “The Mayor did not even take the time to make sure he got that right!” Jack complained.

    “He probably does not think it necessary to make friends with the new crowd that may be lost soon” Stacey commented.

    “Not to worry” I jokingly put in. “No-one is going to die. You can take my word for it.”

    They all laughed with me as we grabbed our bags and made our way down the corridor to the main doors. Our vehicles were parked outside. We were finally going home to start our new lives.



    I was glad to be able to drive my battered, dark-green, four-door Commoner again. There was nothing wrong with its systems and the vehicle was a very efficient drive. I also found that the state it was in made it safe from most criminals and gained me the appearance of a not too successful gambler. I preferred it that way. It made my life much easier.

    Heading out of the campus gates, we all turned west, back to New Haven. Stacey passed me by on her two-wheeler, shouting something at me. I could not hear, but received the distinct image of a tortoise.

    Sometimes I picked up on people’s thoughts spontaneously. I was sure I could do it consciously, if I concentrated.

    Jack drove past in his yellow, roofless Rogue. Flashing a smile at me, his black face created the illusion of very white teeth.

    I smiled back. They all had families to hurry to. An empty apartment awaited me.

    It was an enjoyable experience to drive in the countryside. Not that there was much undisturbed countryside left between the sea and the mountains with New Haven stuck in between, getting more crowded each year with more people moving in from other cities.

    Everyone was looking for sustainable jobs. New Haven’s natural, deep harbour and fishing industry provided just that.

    At least it was a comfortable drive.

    All too soon I reached the intersection and joined the EW1 (East-West) highway that came in from the Eastern Coastal Cities. The EW1 lay just below the Airport on the sea side.

    The WE2 (allowing for traffic flow in the opposite direction from the EW1) was just above the Airport on the mountain side.

    Hill Street ran South-North from the pier to the top of the mountain, crossing underneath the highways, but also serving as the main access-roads to them. The New Haven Airport’s entrance effectively divided Hill into Upper and Lower Hill.

    The same went for Mountain Drive that ran on the West side of the Airport. Mountain Drive wound through the slums into the foothills and eventually found its way to the inland side of the mountains.

    These important main routes were the arteries that kept the heart of New Haven going.

    Fisheries from around Creata had their canneries and fresh stock packing plants here. Our cold coastal waters teemed with life and Creata was glad for its bounty. The Airport was the fastest way to get the fresh fish to markets around the globe.

    Leaving the EW1 highway at the Snout off-ramp, took me straight past the business district into the residential area of Market Square.

    Market Square used to be the original business sector, but as newer, more modern places were built, the old buildings were revamped for residential service.

    I stopped two blocks from my building at Luke’s Grocer. Luke’s was the only decent place in the area for supplies.

    The schools were out and I had to fight my way through the throngs of children, making sure my wallet was secure. You never knew with these little thieves in the vicinity.

    I should know. I was once one of them.

    Upon reaching my home at the Heights Building, I parked my vehicle in the basement. The light at the stairwell was broken and, as usual, the lift did not work. I had to climb the basement stairs and the three flights to the top.

    The janitor was not to be blamed. He really tried his best. It was an old building in a rough neighbourhood.

    Maybe the presence of an officer would make it a bit safer for the residents.              


    Unlocking the door to 308, I went inside, slamming the door closed with my foot. It had an automatic locking mechanism that could only be unlocked by the key or manually from the inside.

    It was so wonderful that I was going to have the whole weekend to myself!

    Dumping my travel bag in the first room to my left, I took my supplies straight past the extra ablution facility that separated my bedroom from the guest room, into the open plan kitchen. It was not a big place, but it served my needs.

    It was early afternoon and I was glad for an extra half-day off before starting work. The tests we had to take at the academy really made my head swim with all the legal stuff and response codes.

    I found it boring and dreadfully tiring to remember all of it. I knew I would remember everything if I had to, it was just too much to ask to write the answers.

    After preparing a light lunch of sandwiches and spreads for myself, I settled on the small patio to watch life go by.

    The patio offered a great view of the airport. I’ve never flown in an aircraft and wondered what the difference would be in flying in physical form, but had a notion that I would not have to wait too long before finding out.

    I suddenly wondered where this notion came from. It was similar to the pre-sight experiences I had. I just knew things before they happened.

    Since I can remember, I’ve always been this way. Sometimes I would just know things. At other times, I would actually see things happening in the future.

    It was confusing, and sometimes scary.

    I knew I could help people with this gift and had this feeling since . . . when? . . . forever.

    It really scared me and I squashed it down, trying desperately to ignore this feeling of pending destiny.

    My efforts were not successful and my communication device, thankfully, intruded on my thoughts.

    It was Jack.

    “Hi. The guys are going to celebrate at The Pikes. I’ll pick you up at 17h00 for an early dinner and then we’ll join them. It’s on me. See you later.”

    He did not give me time to respond, knowing I would chicken out if I had the chance. I was not fond of public places, except when I needed funds of course. The noise gave me headaches. Tonight I would definitely not mind.

    There were a few hours to kill so I looked around my place. The old windows did not seal and it was a constant battle to keep the place clean. It was covered in soot from the black organic fuels used by the factories.

    I wished the Government would ban it. It polluted the whole area, and with the winds blowing from the sea the whole time, the city was constantly sweeping up soot.

    Preferring my privacy, I had to do everything myself. It was a major effort to get down to housekeeping, but I placed all my concentration on my tasks, effectively blocking out any invading thoughts that wanted to surface.



    I was showered and waiting in front of my building by the time Jack arrived.

    “Could you not find yourself another place to stay?“ Jack complained. “This is so out of the way, and primitive. Even your building seems ready to crumble down on us any minute.”

    “I have been here since childhood. This is my home. Besides, now that the neighbourhood has their own Force Person, things should be safer around here from now on.”

    “Yes, until you become a target with your uniform on.”

    “I’m planning to get dressed at the precinct, like all of you.”

    He laughed at me. “Wise.”

    Jack took me to a Plains People diner near The Pikes. These yellow hued people called themselves ‘Orientals’. Traditionally named, The Orient diner was situated opposite the Airport in the Shopping district.

    Jack loved their food, and, as he was paying, I helped myself to generous portions.

    The academy food was not great and this was heaven after being so long without decent food. We stuffed ourselves.

    Finally we sat back and relaxed. Jack ordered some more rice-wine for himself. I almost never took alcohol. I was not fond of the taste.

    Jack looked at me for so long, I became uncomfortable under his steady gaze.

    Finally he spoke up. “You know, you are going to have to be very careful with your pre-sight on the Force. Someone will surely notice your psychic ability and then you’ll be in for it.”

    “I know. I have my ways of hiding it quite successfully. And I’ve decided that First Day’s bet will be my last. I’ll be earning honest money now and would not need to gamble any longer.”

    “Now, that would be a pity” he answered jokingly.

    He turned serious. “I know you think I have only my own interests at heart, but I’m very serious right now. You have the makings of a great Force Person. All of us can see it. We would hate seeing you going to the Government. Okay? So just be careful. And no more party tricks either.”

    I did not like his tone of voice, but I knew he was sincere.

    He paid the waitress and we walked the block to The Pikes to meet our team. No vehicles were allowed in this avenue. It was reserved for pedestrians only.

    This was one of the richer shopping areas. I found most of the people shopping here shallow and materialistic, looking down on anyone not ‘dressed’ to their standards.

    But the restaurants were great, the gaming houses were plenty, and proprietors did not care where their money came from, as long as you paid cash upfront.

    We met up with the rest of the team and were shown to a private booth where it took some doing to fit all five of us in around the same table.

    I ordered my usual mixed fruit juice and the others took bottles of strong black ale.

    Shifting myself slightly to the background, I listened to all their tales and wishes of what they wanted to become in their respective areas.

    Stacey wanted to transfer to Forensics as soon as her three months as Student Officer was completed.

    Slick was working to get into special ops, preferably as a sniper.

    Ryan wanted to become the next New Haven Captain, and Jack just wanted to be an officer of Law. His whole family was on the Force and he was following in everyone’s footsteps.

    I thought about what I wanted for myself. Until now I had allowed myself to go with the flow of things, making the best of what was offered to me, trying to live my life to the fullest.

    This niggling feeling of Destiny threatened to overwhelm me again. It felt as if I really had no control over my life. I did not even know what I really wanted from it!

    I was suddenly angry at myself for being so different from others. I did not want these …. abilities, I told myself.

    Still, I knew in my heart that I loved being different, able to know and perceive things others could not.

    Out of spite, I ordered a glass of ale for myself and downed it in one gulp.

    BIG mistake.

    It was revolting.

    Everyone cheered at the expression on my face and encouraged me to have another.

    I declined and they left it at that.

    They were on childhood stories now, telling each other about happy times and loving parents and siblings.

    It made me very uncomfortable as I had never known my parents, being raised within the Government foster system until I quit it at ten years old.

    After that, I had lived mostly on my own. It did not take much to see where some of my issues came from. I would probably be a psychiatrist’s nightmare.

    Jack was fast getting totally drunk. The others drank responsibly enough, and by the time we took our leave of each other, I was still feeling confident that they would get home safely.

    Jack was another story. He could barely stand as I helped him to his vehicle after taking the keys from him. I dropped him in the passenger seat before settling behind the steering wheel.

    I was not feeling so good either after that glass of ale. My head was spinning and my vision blurred. I guess it was an adverse reaction to the alcohol.

    Carefully driving towards my building, I avoided the Highway, which would have been the fastest route.

    We soon left the shopping area and entered the business district. Passing through several intersections, catching all the traffic lights green (which was one of my favourite bets, I never lost), we entered the residential area of Market Square.

    I was just letting out a sigh of relief as we were almost home, when a shadow ran out from a yard.

    Having no time to respond with my brain being fuzzy from the drink, I drove over whatever it was.

    “Did you see what that was” I asked, glancing over at Jack, bringing the vehicle to a stop.

    No response came from a passed out Jack.

    Walking around the vehicle, I identified the shadow as a cat.

    Squatting down next to it, I touched the bleeding body, smearing blood all over my hands.

    I suddenly saw, and felt, the cat’s sensations; thoughts.

    The cat knew it was dying. There was not a lot of pain. It had been sick for a long time, and did not mind returning to the spirit plane.

    Its spirit slipped out of its body, looking at me for a full minute before moving on.

    Releasing the body, I wiped my hands as clean as I could on my shirt before heading back to Jack’s vehicle.

    With shaking hands, I managed to steer the vehicle to the basement of my building. I left Jack in the vehicle, taking his wallet and the keys with me. I was not going to carry him to my apartment. He would be safe enough in the basement.

    Safely in my own apartment, I scrubbed the blood off my hands and discarded the shirt in the trash container before making some strong coffee.

    This was my first direct contact with death, feeling life slipping out of a living entity with the true essence revealed to me. I never fathomed having such a psychic reaction to something’s life-essence.

    I was feeling shock and excitement at the same time. If this could happen when I touched an animal, what more if I could touch a human?

    Shuddering at the thought, I realized that I would share the same experience as the other person. I did not know if I was strong enough for that.

    I finished my coffee and retired to bed, finally giving in to the drugging effect of the alcohol.      


Copyright © H Gibson Chronicles of Han Storm. All rights reserved. 2009-2014

A full excerpt of Chronicles of Han Storm, Part 1 is available on Wattpad       


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