Heritage and Shimmer Read Free Page A

crowded with stumps and bits of brown
teeth.
     
    “Oh, you gave me a terrible jump,” a drawl
slowed the man’s words. “Name’s Simon Turner. Excuse me if I don’t
offer a handshake, son, but my fingers ache terribly these days on
account of so many ruinous years.”
     
    Simon lifted a hand and revealed a gnarled
set of scabbed fingers. Beverly thought she saw a spot of
underlying bone in the moonlight, but Simon quickly shoved his
hands back into his pockets before she could tell for certain.
     
    “We’re sorry to disrupt your work,” continued
Jayce, “but we couldn’t help but think that the memorial’s
caretaker would be the perfect person to ask what we should first
consider.”
     
    Simon chuckled. “Suppose I’m a caretaker in a
way. I do my best to prevent things from being forgotten.”
     
    Beverly frowned when Simon pulled the cigar
from his mouth and casually tossed it, still smoldering, at the
base of a tombstone. She glanced towards Jayce and noticed how her
fiancé’s eyes narrowed upon the caretaker.
     
    “Pardon me for saying it, Mr. Turner, but
you’re just making your job more difficult by tossing cigar stubs
about the ground,” said Jayce. “Don’t you think the people resting
in this cemetery deserve better?”
     
    Simon shrugged. “Son, I promise you that the
folks buried under these stones are getting everything they
deserve.”
     
    Beverly suddenly felt self-conscious. “Jayce
didn’t mean anything, Mr. Turner. He’s just graduated from the
Starwatch, and they make such a big deal about keeping everything
clean.”
     
    “Of course.” Simon nodded. “The uniform looks
terrific on you, son. I don’t doubt that jacket will look
resplendent once you start earning your medals.”
     
    Jayce grinned. “Where should we begin?”
     
    Simon winked. “Just follow me.”
     
    The caretaker dropped his weed sickle and
limped off of the stone path and into the weed-infested cemetery
plots. Jayce’s head swiveled back and forth to peek at the
tombstone rows, paying just enough attention to the caretaker as
needed to avoid straying from Simon’s guidance. Beverly knew
Jayce’s imagination was an active one, and she suspected his mind
was spinning stories regarding the brave exploits of each buried
soul. But Beverly’s concentration was more disciplined, and she
better focused on Simon’s walk. She thought the caretaker moved
along the path more quickly than Simon’s long and awkward limbs
suggested, and the weeds didn’t make the slightest rustle as
Simon’s boots shambled forward.
     
    Simon stopped before a tall and black
obelisk. The obelisk lacked a name, nor did any dates define the
window of a lifetime. A glass lens, no larger than a nickel, was
recessed within the obelisk and appeared to be the only feature
given to the stone.
     
    “This always seems to be the grave most
visitors want to see first,” answered Simon.
     
    “Why’s there no name on it?” Jayce
inquired.
     
    Simon smiled. “Who knows if aliens even have
names? You’ll find a small button on the side of that stone. Press
it, and you’ll see what makes this grave a good place to
start.”
     
    Jayce quickly found the button and pressed
the device. A charge of electricity hummed from within the obelisk,
and the glass lens winked as a three-dimensional, glowing alien
materialized above the grave. The hologram, knit from blue light,
sculpted an intimidating and alien warrior. The horns that curved
outward from the forehead stretched the alien’s height over ten
feet, and fear surged through Beverly as she considered the four
long, muscular arms that extended from a set of inhumanely wide
shoulders. The alien’s arms ended in hands that held six sharp and
pointed talons instead of fingers, and the glowing lizard’s legs
shifted as a barbed tail snapped above the creature’s shoulders.
Beverly knew that the alien’s lizard-like scales were composed of
nothing more than light. She knew the