Chapter Two: The Daughter’s Heart

High above the devastatingly beautiful planet of Zenn-La hovered an immense, bulky craft.  As it descended from the blue and pink atmosphere, the rocket stabilizers fired with a defining sound, slowing the ship to a crawl.

On the landing platform positioned on the edge of a cliff that looked over the great green valley, stood the honor guard of Zenn-la.  Though they were protectors, they were not warriors and it showed in their composed faces.  Twelve of these guardians surrounded either side of the platform dressed in their welcoming garb of thin, silky sky blue robes with the darker blue jumpsuits underneath.  They stood at attention, their hair shifted by the substantial force from the immense ship, which lowered itself onto the landing platform below. A discharge of steam escaped from the inner parts of the hull as the craft made one final shudder as it met the ground.

Not far off from the landing port, another small personal craft approached with the maidservant Zein-Ma and an honor guardsman on board.  After landing, the old servant-woman made her way past the motionless Honor guard, though the thick fog and up to the craft.  With another blast of steam, the ramp of the immense ship lowered revealing the shadowy cloaked figure, which descended the ramp to greet the maidservant.

“Welcome back to Zenn-la,” said Zein-Ma, foolishly attempting to hold back her joy.  “It has been… too long.”

“Yes it has, my dear Zein-Ma,” spoke the covered figure, her voice cracked with emotion,  “It has been too long.  Though I do wish it was under better conditions.”

In an inept silence, the two figures walked through the resin fog and onto the small craft.

Deep inside the castle, in the innermost part, beyond the ballast wooden doorway that was once the chamber of Nalla-Bal, daughter of Shalla-Bal.  Zein-Ma pushed aside the sturdy outer door and with a huff dusted off her hands.  The cloaked figure that followed glided to the center of the room and hesitated, taking a moment to gaze at the room.  The neglected chandelier hung down from the high ceiling, the large abandoned bay windows, where the angelic light shone through and the temperate walls and floors that had not been treaded upon for some time.

“I have not been here for what seems like ages,” spoke the shadow, who pulled back the hood revealing the angelic face of Nalla-Bal.  “It is somewhat as I had remembered it.  I sense Mother has not allowed it to be altered?”

Zein-Ma consoled Nalla-Bal and removed the heavy cloak revealing the once hidden stunning full figure.  Still a woman, but with the composure of a man out of battle.  Her ebony hair was long and flowing, not uncommon of the women of Zenn-La but her ice blue eyes hid something unnatural.

“Your Mother left it as you did.  She wanted it to remain the same for when you returned,” said Zein-Ma.

“I had hoped it had changed with the time, as I have,” sighed Nalla-Bal.  “This room was built to protect me from the outside world.  It was a different time then, with diverse enemies and numerous threats.  We’ve all moved on, I don’t need protection anymore.”

Zein-Ma moved over to Nalla and took the younger hand in her own wrinkled old one and spoke with all of the deepest heart the old woman could muster.

“Please understand, young one,” whispered Zein-Ma “Your Mother is dying, she hasn’t long.  Give her this, I beg you.  Your life goes on while hers teeters at the edge.  Help her, if not for your Mother, then for all that is good in the universe.” 

Then after an eternity in an extensive stillness Nalla asked, “Will you take me to her?”

The Silver Surfer awoke to the clattering sounds of machinery.  Blinking several times the Surfer realized that the room was pitch black as the sounds grew louder with the passing seconds.  With immeasurable pain that shot through his skull, his world went complete white.

“Who is there?” asked the Surfer squinting with pain.

“We are here,” spoke the voice casually. “You have come here as our enemy once did and you will now pay for those crimes.”

Gradually, the Silver Surfer’s vision returned, revealing a shadowed figure standing to his right.

“What is this that I have done?” questioned the Surfer.

Stepping out of the shadow, the short skeletal figure limbered over to the table on which the Surfer was strapped.  The figure’s cranium lengthened at the neck, coming within an inch of the Surfer’s face.  Now he could see his enemy clearly.  Hovering near the Surfer’s face, the jagged cranium looked like a combination of metal plates, wires, and pasty white skin, though the shape was more like that of a wolf with the protruding snout.  Its detached eyes sat deep in the skull and throbbed with a sharp blue pulse.  From the skull, the plates continued in three sections along the thin neck, which was dense with the ashen skin and whirling gears and sparks of light littered the long shaft.  Its body was less visible under a dark brown sack; its two freestanding legs and bony arms protruding from cuts made below.  Its digits were more impressive than the Surfer’s own; sporting three long sharp claws that extended in four sections: at the end, a long arrow shaped needle.  After a moment of examining the Surfer’s face, the figure trotted with an up and down motion towards a control panel. 

“You will bring him here,” were the words that echoed in the Surfer’s brain as another brutal shock rocked his nerves, sending his torso heaving into the air, only to be restrained by the bands that held him back.

His eyes grew heavy as he stared blankly at the glowing ball containing the holographic image of a dark haired female, which spun in the center of two metallic arms.  Galactus was bored.  While he awaited news from his herald, Galacatus would often remove his mind from his daunting hunger with holographic images of times past.  The offer of concentration that buried his needs and wants keeping the hunger at bay.  Nonetheless, the wait had never lasted so long and Galactus knew this would only mean an uncertain dilemma and a disconcerted delay.

The helm of Galactus’ great ship began to hum with activity as the plant-eater moved into position.  He knew he would have to search out his herald and investigate why so much time had passed since the Surfer had left on his mission of nourishment.

With the sputter of an ancient space cruiser long in need of reformation, the considerable mass goaded leisurely towards outerspace in search of the lost herald of Galactus.

To Be Continued . . .

Silver Surfer: All The Years… Vol. 1 No. 2
Story (c) Copyright 2000 Mark Robert Bourne.  All story rights reserved.  No part of this story may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system without the express permission by the writer/story copyright holder.

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