January seventeenth, one hour before the funeral took place, a short eleven minute three mile drive from Dahlgren Place to Olden Cemetery. In early preparation...gentlemen arrived in suits and women in un-decadent dresses with veils. A large presentation but not as large as the whole staff of Lunar Life Corp—only a select few arrived: family and friends of family. Trevor Trahern arrived with Joanne and Lorena Brown, then Tyrone, his most trusted colleague and bodyguard. He accompanied his wife and son, grieving for Cliff, Blake, Thomas and the parents of Joanna and Lorena. The twins were flabbergasted to find their parents now have a new resting place. The twins hugged each other with tears, they bonded like thirteen year olds all over again.
As the funeral went on, this squared field fifty-eight meters across adjoined an avenue traveling by several houses in reach, its trees outgrew roofs while guests traveled miles amid leafy shadows. The street was quiet until the north bend; although, a few children enjoyed the afternoon. Then meeting an intersection, a kilometer away, it shouldered clusters of houses ranging from the funeral's field. And driving down, high-rise evergreens darkened pale tombstones, separated in two crypts, from trees marching across, and sunny rays blanketing the north. They soon reached its parking lot; dark gray pavements shadowed by looming buildings over its corners. Hence black hover cars, and white hover limousines entered a vacant lot. They met on a short walk carrying roses and black gowns. Women were escorted by husbands and children of the police, Mercy Hospital, firefighters squad and Lunar Life Corp.
Then they entered a forested causeway. The old, cobbled pass is arched with trees, from leafless spiky plants, to stalking trees courted with a creek. The flowers were yet to bloom as the moist soil hinted at their arrival. Then down the path, lofty evergreens were across fields of nourished grass where orange bushes highlighted the hooker green. Next, a stone pillar marked the exit, its timeless memorial etched the names of Henry Blake, Clifford Clayworth, Thomas Jenkins, Dave and Nancy Brown and Larry Scone, the police officer who died exchanging fire with Joanna's parents. While only a brisk walk between the fenced evergreens, they noticed the wet grass in smelly weeds. And out yonder, a gathered crowd was seen in the distance, twenty seven meters away they held hands mourning. The sun twinkled over them in a passage of shadows.
Nearby are cypress, poplar, and yew trees with hulking roots and stems. Its arc hugged the open tombs seventeen meters when a throng came under its leafy green foliage.
When Trevor arrived. He placed a sword over his shoulder, and he greeted the throng by the cobblestone pass, but once he waved back to honor the twins.
The cool breeze met the shade as they bowed their heads in piety. When the funeral proceedings neared an end, Trevor was seen about to place a sword in Dave Brown's grave as the twins came to mourn with him. They followed Trevor to the edge of the crowd as others paid their respects, kneeling and placing roses. But before Trahern slid the sword into its black cloth and gold sheath, Trevor met Tyrone and Eddy with firm handshakes. They strolled along the tombs with talkative gestures mentioning Jr. to be the ring bearer while Ty should be the best man, and Lorena the bridesmaid.
Trev's friends were close. The twins saw Trevor raise the sword as it glimmered over a single light's ray. Wiping over its edges, Trevor polished the guard, the very same sword he fought Cliff with.
"Not here," Ty abruptly held the case, advancing it to Trev. "It's not a blade to frolic with."
"Is it really?" Trevor spouted aloofly. Lowering the blade, he swung it down the sheath.
Ty sighed: "is there no pleasing you Sir? But I'm glad to my heart you haven't switched on the blade. With a short press, the shock could almost kill you."
"Really? Ha, ha, ha," Trahern examined the sword sarcastically.
"Thanks Tyrone, you amused me, I needed that friend." Tears ran down Trevor's eyes. Ty patted the chairman's shoulder, Trev responded with: "For the Brown family."
Tyrone wiped the cloth around the steel as Trevor grasped the hilt. Then Setting the sword, It rested under a cloth blanket in its velvet case. Trahern felt the warmth of his circle of friends. They came to see the sword now in its velvet interior box with Trevor's engaged girlfriend Joanna across from Ty, hugging his wife and son.
Tyrone stepped back as Trahern shared the sword in its velvet box, passing it around. It was a damask—gold—striped sheath. The base bled blood with Cliff's signature, and below its steel bejeweled guard, the hilt ran down his pinky—white with rubber ridges, two sharp teeth clenched its glass bauble. Trevor placed the sword snugly into the tomb honoring the Brown family, as Joanne once wanted a royal burial for her parents.
The open greenway was a long walk as a mysterious man anticipated Joanna's arrival. She was watching the tomb burials when the security guard who Jo hit over the head came by her side. He pulled a black object from his pocket; Joanna was relieved to see tinted sunglasses. The security guard shook Joanne's hand under a deep, "hello;" and a grave stare as he spread the shades over his silver-gray sideburns.
"Hey, it's a pleasant day isn't it?" He replied calmly, bungling his sunglasses down a back pocket. The security guard spoke of startling news—how Joanna was almost arrested and examined after she forgot to finish signing in, also, about the camera error and when Thomas returned her plasma knife. Her face became flat as a cold pale tombstone, but warmth flushed back in when he spoke about Jo being an undercover FBI agent, grinning.
The grave-hearted officer conveyed the rest of the information after overlooking his com with bronze cufflinks along his black suit's sleeve. "That criminal syndicate threw all it had at us, and we're very sorry for the passing of Thomas, Blake and Cliff, but that knife's too dangerous...even for your protection."
"Yeah, you're right indeed, Sir," Joanna said
"And you should be thankful I know you and Trevor, or you might have been sent off."
"Yeah," she nodded carefully.
"Joanne, for two decades since Trevor was in his teens until he replaced his father as chairman, we were friends at times...besides Cliff's gambling addiction." Then the security guard turned to Trev. "And I got to hand it to you man, Joanna's one attractive woman...but watch her...I have a gut feeling she has issues." The security officer left shaking Trevor's hand nodding in a sign of encouragement as he strode by and took Jo's plasma knife.
She sighed after a deep breath of relief after the security guard took her knife.
Joanna was flanked in the grassy mead. A steady rhythm of steps broke when a stranger breathed against her nape, turning to see and kiss the man behind her. Trevor gasped, feeling a youthful energy.
"You mean you're the one who robbed me—?" Trev's speech was interrupted as she leaned against his chest.
Joanne sighed wearily, "your receptionist saved me back then."
"You know, you didn't need a plasma knife." Trevor winked, expressing that she is a talented FBI agent.
"I was careful," Joanna giggled. "But I needed the knife for protection, and if I got rid of it...I...could have been caught."
"How...?" Trevor said, warming Joanne with his body. Joanna hugged back when her com began to beep. Trahern followed Jo while she silenced him with a smile. Seeing her pace forth and back, he kept his distance waiting to continue the conversation. Trevor greeted any guests that happened to stroll by amid listening to the broken half of her gossip, as her talk fest concluded in a nearly five minutes.
"If I heard right, our wedding preparations are ready, right Jo?" Trevor said.
"Yes," she said shyly.
As they left, Joanna gently took Trevor by the hand and clasped it between her fingers; then they went their separate ways across the cobblestone pass. Furthermore, with a kiss, they contemplated the goal to one day be together at First Reach, where they planned to retire after becoming wealthy miners, and all the funeral guests dressed themselves with wedding attire and met at the Lunar Life Corp launching pad in thirty minutes to not miss the bride and groom launching on their honeymoon.
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Red Entaries
Science FictionA chairman who shares his great grandfather's dream of helping moon colonists finds himself on a mission to surpass this vision. Whenever the chairman had a dream another one would bloom as well. The chairman's friend and engineer discovers the firs...
