take me back part 2

Chapter 6

I felt bad. 

Even though my physical health was improving. 

I was walking around a little bit in my room. The wire in my jaw had been loosened. 

Instead of 'nil by mouth'  I was on a liquid diet. 

As you can imagine my weight had dropped dramatically.. The last time I could count my ribs was when I was a five year old child running around half naked in the rice paddies of Banten...

I had come a long way. 

I am the classic story of an immigrant who has made good. By sheer force of determination, hard work, education and a bit of what they call luck, I succeeded. I was in the shiniest and highest skyscrapers of the greatest money city on earth- New York. 

I had it all - penthouse apartment in lower Manhattan, overlooking the mouth of the Hudson river. Can you imagine from my window I see the Stature of Liberty. I had financial investments in several big companies and I owned a several houses up state new York and one near by in Battery Park Brooklyn. 

These provided me ample rental income. 

Oh I have not even mentioned that I made sure my parents we looked after. My father had left my mother at when we were young. 

He had a terrible drinking habit. But he was never bad to my mother. He was kind hearted and he knew well enough that this habit would bring poverty to our family. He also had sense enough to realise that mother, though not rich in formal education, had a very sharp business mind. So he knew she could survive.

So one day he walked out and never came back. I can only imagine for him it was the best thing he could do without destroying everyone else with him.

Mother did what mothers have been doing since the beginning of time..They cry a little. Get up on their feet and make ways which they themselves thought not possible. 

She raised chickens and sold eggs. That was not enough. What she could not grow herself she bought and resold at a profit. 

She learnt to ride a motorbike and bought an a three wheeler van so she could deliver far and wide. 

Mother loved it when she saw how she could make money easily. Well that is how it seemed to others...it must be the Arab blood in her she thought. 

She would scheme and think for days on end how to turn a profit. 

Then out of nowhere she would jump up scream; 'I have got it! Yes! 

"A prawn and trout farm" 

And so she went about getting our little piece of land dug up and turned into four deep water ponds. 

Next she got the water agitators to generate oxygen in the prawn ponds. 

Yes I told you I became senior at the age of 26. Now 28 and lying in a hospital bed, my confidence shattered, my thoughts deeply introspective and brooding, I wondered where I would go from here? 

I knew I didn't look the same anymore, there is some things plastic surgery can't fix. Several if my teeth were knocked out and it will be a while yet before I could see a dentist and my broken jaw needed to heal before anything else could happen. I looked in the mirror. .

I did not like what I saw. I was a mess, sure the bruising and swelling had gone down. I still had scars, my eyes, particularly the left one was bloodshot but I thought in time the capillaries would heal. 

My jaw with a few missing teeth..Gingerly, I walked back to my bed. I wanted to cry and suddenly there was a loud knock at the door.

One of the junior nurses poked her head in and said,

"Hello Zaria. Some people are here to see you. Is it OK for me to let them in?"

"Please do." I said as I wondered who it might be. My friends from work had ceased visiting me, but kept sending messages. Joseph never stopped passing, at night leaving flowers at the desk but he never came in to see me....

"Good afternoon Zaria. I am inspector Tom Anscombe and this is my colleague  Detective Rachel Sears." 

"Hello" I said and beckoned them to come in, " I wish I was in a better state to offer you a cup of tea, you'll have to understand " as I tried to smile at my attempted Joke.

I knew what they were here for; they wanted my witness statement as to what happened that night and get me to press charges so that they would give Kevin the maximum possible sentence of attempted murder, aggravated battery and intent to cause grievous bodily harm. 

Detective Rachel Sears looked like a tough women. Short and well built, blonde hair and grey piercing eyes. She pulled out a noted book and took a few moments to write something.. Flicked through some pages and began:

"Zaria just so you know; currently Kevin Roberts is in custody. We set a bail bond of $3million dollars, seized his passport and froze his assets in case he thought of running away. 

His first hearing is in three weeks time and we do not expect he will post bail, so you are safe. 

But we need a statement from you as to what happened that night and why he attacked you this viciously."

It was still hazy trying to recall everything that night. I tried to tell the police everything. 

At times I cried as I remembered how much Kevin had wanted to harm me. 

Rachel comforted me as best as she could but you could see affection didn't come easy for her. 

Inspector Tom had a recorder, while Rachel took had written notes. 

By the time I had completed giving my statement I was emotionally drained. 

"Thank you for your assistance Zaria, we will prosecute him to the full extent of the law. No doubt about," inspector Tom Anscombe said as they stood up to leave.

'Lucky that Joseph was there and alert to help you or it would be a different story altogether?"

'Yes..Yes I totally agree with you Inspector. Bye."

I rang the call bell and the nurse came. I gave her a letter to give to Joseph whenever he passed by. 

I wanted to thank him.

More than that I was hoping he would want to see me.

Chapter 7

My letter to Joseph:

Dear Joseph,

If you are reading this letter, then I am glad for one think, that you have received. 

I cannot tell you how much the flowers make a difference to me. They smell lovely and they look beautiful. I can see you have an eye for beautiful things. 

I thank you so much that you faithfully do this. In my loneliness, I realise I am not as lonely and as wretched as I think I am when I see your gifts. 

Why you do this, after the way I treated you, I cannot understand. It breaks my heart because in know I don't deserve any kindness from you. 

I was mean and cold to you. But you are the man who saved my life from the man I thought I loved. 

You have checked on me everyday you work.. While all my colleagues, the ones I worked with, socialised with, seem to have forgotten me. I thought I meant something to them. 

Joseph, I have one more favour to ask of you; when you do pass by, please to come into my room and see me. 

It would fill me with happiness. Even if I am sleeping please ask the nurse to wake me.

Thank you again

Kindly

Zaria

A house in the woods

I had rebelled against my strict upbringing and here I was now in a foreign country on my own.

This was something that was not done : an Asian girl travelling on her own without a male relative to look after her. 

But I was not a normal girl. 

I liked to play with the boys. 

I liked how rough they played and how dirty they could become doing all sorts of mischief. 

I also heard a lot if naughty things. 

I was a tomboy. Rough and ready as they say. 

I was intelligent and did far much better than anyone in my class boys or girls. 

The number of girls reduced as they were married off one by one. 

My mother pleaded with me. We have such good matches for you. Every time they brought a good match I refused. I was always nice but refused. 

My father loved me.. 

He had been born to a poorer branch of the family tree. He had dreamt of being better than running a shop, he dreamt if stars and rocket ships. But life had other plans. 

My mother, a distant cousin had been the only daughter to a fairly well of family and to rescue my father from his dreams and poverty they said marry my mother and inherit the businesses we have. 

So he had but to accept. So my mother always had control over everyone including my dad. 

My mother threatened to send me to the village so that I would be forgotten.. 

Though I was a tomboy... I could not escape my looks.  My green hazel eyes and dark long hair. My caramel skin complexion like I was burnt by the sun...was not much valued here as beauty here was considered a milky white skin. However, regardless men had sense enough to see this beauty in me. It was a burden for me. I cut my hair, I coloured my hair all sorts of colours so that people would think I was less attractive.

I won a scholarship to study.. I didn't tell my parents. I arranged everything in secret. 

For the airfare I borrowed from a very close friend who had married. 

She understood me and accepted I was different. 

She sold some of the gold she received as a wedding gift from her husband. 

I promised I would pay back twice as much in value..

PART2

I arrived at Heathrow airport in London at about 5am. Our flight was 15 minutes early.

As you can imagine, though curious and adventurous by nature, this was a shock to my system. In my country, I was considered the progressive one and the 'most modern'. But I had not expected to see this much advancement. 

I realised I came from a rather backward nation and this intimidated me. I was nervous and envious of the confident people who moved about freely with no concerns whatsoever. A lady, smartly dressed

They flew a lot I could see. 

As I stood in line to clear the immigration and customs I was all nerves: what would they ask me? What if for some reason I am turned back? The British can be cold and cruel so I have heard and this thought struck my mind. 

Nothing I imagined vaguely came to pass. The man was pleasant wished me all the success. 

Getting outside I was used to the idea of a huge number of relatives waiting anxiously for other relatives coming from overseas to visit. 

I did not anticipate a small welcoming party.

I saw the joy as people greeted each other with shouts of  excitement and tears of joy. Timidly I pulled my bag through the arrivals and searched for the signs pointing to trains or buses to central London.

Weeks before I travelled I had studied all the detailed instructions on how to get to Preston, where my university would be. 

I had £100 on me, several gold chains and a ruby ring my father had given me as gifts over the years. It was my insurance policy, if I lost the money, I sold those things. 

So now I needed to catch the underground train. It was called the Piccadilly line and I was supposed to travel in the east bound direction. Get to Piccadilly circus and change for the Victoria line...would I manage. 

I followed people going towards the direction I was going and sure enough I saw the ticket office and with much confusion bought a single ticket to zone 1 as the person at the window had told me. 

"Excuse me sir," I said as I approached what looked like someone working for the London underground.

"Yes, my dear. How can I help you?" Said this man, pink faced, slightly chubby but with a kind face.

'I need to get the east bound train going to central London, please?' In a heavily accented voice. I was self conscious in the face of this beautiful English accent. .'oh this is how to speak proper English,' I thought.

'Well my dear lady which train you catch will take you to central London. You see this is the last stop and the trains turnaround and go back.'

'Where is it you want to go exactly?'

I responded my final stop was Victoria station.

OK get on this train and when you get to Piccadilly circus, get of the train. Follow the signs that say Victoria line. Northbound. Remember north bound. Take that train and in two stops you are Victoria. OK my dear'

' Thank you so much sir' I said as I rushed with my language onto the train. 

My first journey on the London underground was a journey of observation. Through the Heathrow terminal stops it was a mish mash of tourists, mainly white faces, business people, a lot of bags and chit chat. I saw brown faces but going in the opposite direction. They must work at the airport I thought. 

The more it went into central London, the more colourful it got, the busier it became as people where going to work. I saw a mixture of colours and nationalities. It was a culture shock; these black faces, the Chinese faces, these mixed faces, these white faces, Oriental and south Asian faces. All there in this train that goes under the earth. 

I tend not to get lost easily and I got to Victoria station in one piece. I found my way to the coach station and picked up the ticket I had paid for online earlier. Went and found bus stand 32 - M6 coach Manchester. National express. It was due to depart at  10:30. Now was 09:50am. I had time. 

I Bought a little snack and drink. I wondered how strange, most of these little shops in the heart of London are operated by Indians? What happened to the English?

By the time the bus was about to leave, it was partially full and a nice girl came to sit next to me. 

Blonde, long hair and suntanned. She wore glasses but they suited her well. 

Settled in she said "hie" and I responded 'hello'

So how is it going she proceeded to ask. I was shy but happy that someone talked to me. 

She asked me where I was going and I told her Preston. And she was I am stopping one stop before you.

" I just want to pass by and see my boyfriend before I head back to Germany. 

I have spent six months travelling in Asia, mainly Indonesia ( Borneo and Sumatra and a bit of west Java), I have also been to Thailand, Vietnam and Laos. It was an amazing experience "

"Oh that's nice. It is my first time travelling really. I am here as a student. I am hoping to study government, politics and law' 

" Oh that's good. Sorry.. I have not introduced myself, my name is Brigitte and you are? "

"My name is Farzana Ali." I said 

Brigitte asked me ' so where you from its hard to tell from your accent?'

'Pakistan.'

"Really!" Said Brigitte, " I once had a boyfriend from Pakistan.  The most good looking guy I have come across..but we were so different.  Our relationship didn't work!' 

 

I am Debbie

I will recount a story I heard many years back as told to me by a friend. It is based on what really happened. It is sad but my friend wanted it retold so that people must remember to be slow to pass judgment because they don't know the road a person has travelled on.

' I begin with trauma and end with drama.

I tell you I was traumatized. Yes my mind. My mind. I have to fight to keep the memory of the trauma haunting me. The scars do not go away. They run through my mind and they run deep.

I am a mother of three beautiful children. A son and two daughters - they should never have to go through what I went through. And they shall never know what I did to keep them in the life they have. 

My son - I only hope he grows into a man that knows how to treat women. That is all I ask of him. 

I work. I have found work and respectability. I work for a company of international repute and standing. 

I am twice divorced. My first two children are from my first marriage and my last one from an elderly man I married from Singapore. My first husband never was a responsible for us. So I worked and earned a living. I shall tell you more on this. You must follow my story. 

Him, my grandfather. Him, the one they looked up to as the elderly one; the wise one. It is him, that is the man that forced himself upon me. 

Yes I was raped by my grandfather. 

Who would believe it if I told it so? 

I felt violated. I felt awful. I lost what was precious to me. I as a teenager.. Coming to bloom as a woman.. Confused at what all these changes in me meant. My moods changing. My skin breaking out. My breasts growing bigger. My embarrassment at my own nakedness and along he came and threw me into a world of confusion. 

I wanted to end it all. I could not bare it. I could not tell it to anyone. Who would believe. I Lived in a village in Indonesia and he was respected. I would be the one to face the trouble. 

As a teenager I did not have a sense of self worth. What was I but a dirty rag. My mother, my grandmother, treated me no better. 

I felt more worthless. I wonder did they feel the same? Is it true women do more harm to other women, even though it is men who oppress us?

Maybe my mother did not like that I was beautiful. I was fair skinned and attractive. But this did not save me from the actions of my grandfather. 

Behind the closed doors and curtains, the fire still burned in his loins.. He had his way with me.  His crazy and disgusting fantasies. 

I did not fall pregnant because he gave me contraception. He gave me pills to arouse me.

I am smart. I am intelligent. I am beautiful. I carry a heavy burden. I have lost my confidence. 

I cannot stand the sight of men or boys. When all that the other girls would ever want to talk about is boys...I shied away from these conversations. Boys or men all they wanted from me was to have their way with me...

I never formed any meaningful relationships with any boys as a teenager because I didn't trust them. 

It was that much harder because my beauty attracted them to me, my body with it's curves. 

I went to high school. A great place to learn, to grow and to thrive. And thrive I did...

dark side of the moon part 1 and 2

a SciFi adventure)

Thanks to Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos and 100s of other space privateer corporations, space flight had become as common as taking a train from one city to the next. Or a flight from London to Amsterdam. 

Several space colonies were orbiting millions of Miles from planet earth. Mainly as holiday resorts or staging points for deep space travel. Now what was kept classified were the military and research colonies. Rivalries on earth had just shifted to space. 

Weapons had just moved to space. They watched each other on earth, so they must watch each other in space. 

On top of that the moon had become earth's biggest commercial venture. Every nation that could get to the moon to mine, went to the moon and mined. Those too poor either gave up their sovereignity to mightier richer Nations to starve off certain doom. Earth was much changed in 2050. The rich and powerful lorded over the poor just as the barons did in the 17, 18 and 19th centuries.

Chapter 2

"How is it going Justin" flight engineer Eve Smit said.

'Its going good, Eve. I spent three weeks on holiday in the underwater spar just off the coast of Bahamas. It was fabulous."

' What about the other two weeks' Eve added with a cheeky smile on her face...

'I heard what you guys got up to the other weekend...that's crazy. I thought you had given up drinking..' Eve laughed as she said this.

We were on our crew boat heading to launch pad 92. Space systems and transportation corp leased launchpad 92 from Blue Origin space systems. 

As you may know Blue Origin belonged to Jeff Bezos of Amazon and Space X was Elon Musk. 

Basically it was a duopoly... Between them they had the most launchpads along the offshore equator. It was cheapest and therefore most lucrative to launch along the equator and offshore. 

The space rockets were now reusable up to fifteen times a year but usually it never got beyond 10 times before they hauled the huge rockets to Florida for refurbishment. 

Space X and Blue origin had diversified their business model. As the originators of cheaper reusable rocket systems they had won all the major government contracts in the early days. 

First to reach Mars were the Americans, after the Chinese spectacularly miscalculated missed mars by a million miles and sadly lost all crew on board. 

What was significant with this flight to Mars, was that it was done by a private corporation, not NASA, not Roscosmos nor the Chinese space and certainly not the Indian space agency but Blue Origin. 

Not to be outdone, Space X landed on Mars and sent a mini space craft with a two man crew to Phobos, one of the moons of Mars. They set up a communication satellite and flew back to Mars without issue. 

As our boat pulled up to the jetty of the offshore launch pad, the preflight prep crew were waiting. The journey from Florida Keyes to present location takes about 3 hours. 

Jack Ruben, the docking and telemetry engineer and Eve had both slept most of the way. 

I thought about the last weekend and tried to remember the girl I met. One minute we are drinking in the bar and next morning I wake up with her next to me..

She was quite the catch, a beauty. But she had brains too. Most of these girls I pick up at bars struggle to and 1 + 1. She was able to look at my flight plans to the docking station and the moon, calculate the docking speed and rendezvous points as if it was a nursery rhyme. 'I need to see her again. I hope I tool her number.' I thought to myself .

"Evening Commander Wyre'" one of the attendants ' can I take your bag?'

"Time to suit up Jack and where the hell is Eve? briefing is in under an hour," I said

"She has to do the medical because it is still within the five weeks when she fell ill."

Jack responded.

'I hope she is not pregnant or something. Then they would replace her with Hammer if she failed. Man hate that guys guts.. There is something I just don't like about him.'

Fortunately Eve passed the medical and joined the other two in the flight briefing room. 

The flight coordinator explained it was a crew change and resupply mission. Flying with us would be 10 guys from the Zeneca mining corporation. They were flying to delta spot B a huge mining complex. Zeneca was basically a front for the US government. It was an open secret that this was no private corporation. 

On our way to Delta Spot B, 20,000 miles  in space we would intercept a cargo supply capsule with 30 tonnes of food and supplies. 

To make logistics easier, food and other supplies are launched in a scheduled fashion on unmanned rockets. Once in space they orbit around the earth until they are required, thereby saving time and money. 

With the passenger crew strapped in, we were taken to the command module. 

We went through our systems checks, fuel, loads and weights. Ran a test of functionality. 

It was the flight engineer's job to check all the data of the flight the coordinates which had been inputted into the computer. Eve would have to manually input the figures into a simulator and it agreed with the onboard computer, I as commander gave the green light for the start procedure. 

When I gave the go. It took thirty minutes to fuel the oxygen tanks, run an integrity test once all clear. The minute countdown began, as the fuel hoses and escape tower unlatched..

10, 9, 8,.....2 main engines ignite, 1, we have lift of MarinaStar 1 to Delta Spot B on the moon.

A violent shaking ensued as the rocket it made it off the launch. This shaking lasted for no more than 45 seconds but you never got used to it. 40,000 pounds of thrust per second and the Almighty roar of the engine and every bone in your body being shaken like you are about to be broken into a thousand pieces. 

It is intense for us pilot the ships but it must be tough for guys going to work. 

You can feel the velocity increase as the force of the rocket breaks through the pull of gravity. We now use a two stage rocket. The fuel mixture is oxygen and a patent rocket fuel which can be compacted but expands to four times its size when heated and generates 10 times the force.

Stage one falls away and Eve glances on her dials that we are where we supposed to be when it happened. She gives the thumbs up. In another half minute the engines will switch off and the guidance system will put us in the correct navigational course. We will rendezvous with the cargo in 18 hours and then another 5 hours to the moon.

"3, 2, 1, main engines cut off", Eve announces.

On course to rendezvous with Dragon Capsule in T-20 hours. " 

The passengers have feed tubes and the ability to rotate their seats. But due to space limitations and other inherent dangers, they are pretty much strapped to their suits for the duration of the flight. Luckily they have trained for this and if need be, on their suits after eating and drinking, they can take sedative that will see them through the journey.

Chapter three: Moon give up your treasure to mother earth

You've got to go back to the late 1960s and 1970s, during the Apollo missions. 

When man landed on the moon, that was just the beginning of an even bigger technological advance. 

You see, the American government did not bother to waste time trying to debunk the myths that the moon landings were faked in a holiday studio. 

This served their purpose perfectly. 

On Apollo 11 Neil Armstrong and "Buzz Aldrin brought some samples back to earth. These were widely shared with scientists across the globe as was convention. The dust appeared to prove the moon was once part of the earth and the spectrometer analysis showed a higher the average presence of matter from cosmic regions such as the asteroid belt and ancient meteors. Nothing strange there.

It was the Apollo 17 mission which yielded something of greater value, according to recently declassified documents.

Now, the astronauts Kelly Scott and Brian Kidd, had completed their assigned tasks and decided to take the 'moon buggy' for spin. 

After an hour or so they reached a deep crater. You may say why this is of interest; on the dark side of the moon is in perpetual darkness because the sun never reaches this side as it is always facing away from the sun. 

When the light from the buggy shone on this crater, they gave off sharp silvery reflection. Most of the surface of the moon made up of dark soil, uninteresting. For rock fragments you have to dig. 

Kelly told Brian to log the coordinates as he started to pick up samples of the rock. A second thing, was some of this silver rock when he picked it up crumbled to a fine dust of a reddish brown rust colour. As if weathered or decomposed. So he collected it in two bags..marked sample 'a' and sample 'b'. Kelly had tried to see if there was a pattern to the deposition of these samples but that would have meant going through a crater that appeared over 50km wide and 20km deep (later confirmed by aerial moon survey maps).

Back on Earth with something new.

Back on earth, having returned with the samples, these were separated out from the regular moon rock samples. 

The first to analyse the rocks were the planetary geologists. They studied the impact site and then looked around to see if there were more in close proximity. This was the case in deed. Over an area of a 1000 square kilometres or more, there were craters of varying sizes. To guage the reflectance the spectral cameras used infrared so see if this reflective rocks where present or not, since at a distance light could not be shone on the craters. 

A report by the geogists concluded it that there was an impact event for sure. They argued as on earth so too the moon - these are tektites.

How can that be? These are not meteors that hit the surface of the earth, melt and are flung into the upper atmosphere before dropping to earth. They just don't have those specific characteristics. 

 It was certain what impacted the surface disintegrated into many fragments hence the number of crater sites. 

What was disputed was the nature of the rock. Some said it was an iron condritic meoterite and others refused and suggested that it was an asteroid of unknown origin. 

They could not explain the difference between sample a and sample b. There was no weathering on the moon. There is no suggestion their could have been water on the moon after the event nor before. 

Along came the Chemists

And this is where things got considerably more interesting. 

Sample a was silver. When hit it sounded metallic. Its weight was consistent with a light metal such as aluminum. So does it magnetize? No. Fine. Can it pass a current no. 

So is it a semi conductor, do we need to lower the temperature? Right. Nothing with supercooled temperatures. 

Over what temperature does this thing melt? Scientists and the industrial engineers were beginning to lose interest as their high hopes of finding some fabulous new material for advanced engineering use, were being diminished. 

'Oh just be done with already. It's of no use to us. Had it back to the geologists, they were already having fun with it', they said.

Sample a was heated in stages. First at 100 degrees Celsius. Nothing. 

Then 200 degrees Celsius. A slight expansion was noticed. The chemist, stopped the heating of the oven. Noted the parameters in his log book. He open to oven so to better get the sample and describe any physical changes, using gloves and a forceps, he picked up the rock. 

 Just then an almighty electric shock transferred from the rock, as a blue flash of lightening, throwing the forceps all the way across the lab. A distance of almost 20 metres.

Recovering from the initial shock the chemist could not contain his excitement. Noted the temperature: 200 degrees Celsius, rock sample 'a' electric current effect is observed. Need to measure the charge. 

He gets his multimeter and makes sure he wears gloves. It is a small rock sample only 20 grams in size. Roughly between 120 and 150 volts. He tried it after an hour. Same result. The temperature had cooled. But it had a current driving it. So it could not be handled for risk of shock. A month later same effect but a drop by 20 volts... 

Back on the spaceship

The MarinaStar 1 had been in orbit for almost 16 hours as it approached the rendezvous and docking to the free orbiting cargo supply with 30 tonnes of supplies. In was in Jack's hands now. He did his final calculations on the weights, speeds and fuel burns required to dock at exactly the same speeds. All was in order. 

We could see capsule B1 now but we still chasing it. A bright spot on the horizon.

The Zeneca crew if still awake we told to stop anything they were doing. Their seating would automatically become disabled to any movement. 

"Jack over to you now. Do your thing,' Justin said. 

" Roger that Commander Wyre"

At that moment ground control came on to the communication systems. 

Listen MarinaStar 1 you are go go docking and latching to capsule B1.

'Received. Over' responded Eve as she now had communications duties. 

Jack aligns the laser guidance system.. 20 clicks out. 

What?? Jack double checks his logs and rechecks. We should be 15 clicks out. Did he burn fuel longer than he should have slow down enough? 

No. He is certain. 3 seconds, 40 per cent throttle. Again two minutes when we rotate the axis...4 seconds 60 percent throttle.

Ground control. Do you see this? 

'Copy. We are examining it' they respond. 

'OK jack continue chase. Dock and latch. We have enough fuel for the landing. We will advice next steps.'

Fuel loads were calculated with precision. It was the case you drop your load on the moon and pick up returning traffic. A 7 hour turnaround time. No need for refueling. The gravity on the moon was a sixth of the earth's. But you still need enough fuel escape the Moon's pool, position yourself to enter the earth's atmosphere without burning up.

Jack docked. It lasted two minutes longer than it should have. Two minutes in space can be the difference between flying to China and ending up in Mexico or worse. 

We make our way to the moon. 

To be continued

Platform 4

It is 6:40am in the morning.

The middle of winter early January morning. I have just picked up a free paper to read while on the train. 

The train is due 6:43. I make sure to catch it. I need to be in the office by 7:30. I commute from the outskirts of London three days a week. The other two weekdays I work from home. 

'I must get an apartment in central London. I really don't like the early starts. ' I think to myself 

6:4am the train pulls into the station; luckily as we are one of the earlier stops, it is not so full. I find a seat and I don't bother to look up and begin to read my paper. 

The silence is a London thing. No one talks or looks at strangers. We could ride the same train for ten years, see each other night and day but still never exchange a word. Gosh! The madness of living in one of the greatest cities on earth. We are lonely, but we never cross the lines to break the ice. I wonder what will it take?

Today for some reason feels different. I don't know; I feel hormonal; I feel sensitive. May be my period is due? This us how I normally feel before it happens. 

The train doors open and a group of people push and shove to get seats. We are getting closer to the centre and it is getting busier. 

For some reason I look up from the fashion section I was reading and I notice directly opposite me a good looking black guy staring at me. Embarrassed, he quickly turns his stare elsewhere. 

Normally I would not give it a second thought and carry on reading just to show a lack of interest. 

This time I look at him; I study him and measure him. 

More than black he is dark brown with short neat curly hair. Beautiful teeth. 

He dresses quite causal: a deep blue Polo top and some khaki chinos and a suede pair of smart shoes. 

It doesn't look like he goes to the gym and he is not overweight. He seems to be naturally slender but not skinny. I guess 6 feet tall. 

He has a book: A mind for numbers' says the title. So is he a teacher or does he just like maths? I doubt it. May be he is carrying it to make an impression. 

But why? All these other guys are in suits and ties and work for the big investment banks. They make a lot of money!

He doesn't look like the fancy well paid city guy. 

I cannot date a guy who makes less money than me. I tried it before and it didn't work. 

Don't get me wrong; it was not about the money... Well it was. More than the money, it was a sense of self esteem. 

I dated two old fashioned guys who refused to let me pay for anything because they believed as men they should pay. 

Once we got into an argument and I told him I earned twice as much as he did and I didn't need his fancy manners or money... That put a stop to our romance - it crushed him. 

The other guy simply could not accept a woman earning more money than him. He had to be in control - so that ended that relationship fast. 

OK where was I ? In the train and looking at this black guy. 

We get to Black friars station, a lot of people are getting off and so am I. So is he as he stands he stands to but makes way for me. I politely thank him. 

I can smell him...oh my goodness to bury my head in his neck. A sweet, citrusy vanilla smell. He smells beautiful...

From the 18th floor I work the day through. 

I had a presentation to complete as I was giving one to one of our clients. We were making a pitch for more work from them.

We had delivered for them before and we sure could again. I was team lead so I had to put it all together. I enjoyed my work. It involved creativity and imagination. 

I was very intelligent in school and hardworking. Being Chinese, my father and mother wanted me to be a doctor. This would bring them great prestige. Sure enough I was accepted into medical school with full scholarship but I choose not to take it up. 

I had a gap year and spent it Cambodia working with a charity for orphaned kids. It was a great experience and I loved the beauty of the country. 

Coming back the UK, economics and advertising and marketing. I Loved the challenge of creating desire for products. 

I excelled. At one point two agencies fought tooth and nail for my services. I chose the smaller and it grew to be one the biggest and best. 

Once my parents saw how much money I made; I bought them a home and made sure they need not worry financially - all was forgiven for not doing medicine.

I am Chinese by the way...oh yes I have said. I am tall by ,Chinese standards or by any girl standards. My legs are long and shapely.. Maybe from all the tennis and swimming and cycling I do. I have curves, firm curves of a sports woman. My hair is shoulder length. My eyes are light almost brown - a mystery they say. My skin is porcelain but I tan well.

I think I am OK but my friends never stop admiring my beauty. It makes me bashful at times. The men turn their heads when they see me... Or am I just an oriental sexual fantasy?

It's 9:50pm. 

I have had a long day. The presentation went well. It went longer than we anticipated. It left no time for anything else. After 5pm my friend Sarah had a dinner date but she needed someone else to come along because her date was coming with a friend. So I agreed to go on this double date as Sarah is one of my closest friends. 

We were taken to French- Vietnamese restaurant. The food was delicious. Sarah clearly head over heels in love with her date almost forgot we were there. Kissing and touching throughout the meal. 

We went to a bar for a couple of drinks. My date clearly a very very handsome man, but also so full of himself thought I was easy. He didn't make an effort to try to know me. Cracked jokes which were not funny and preceded to try kiss me. I let him know that though he was a great looking guy I was not interested. 

From that point he didn't talk to me and left. Sarah barely noticed, so I told her not to worry I would make my way home - she must have fun. 

9:50 I am in Farringdon station as the train pulls up I get in, slightly tipsy from a few glasses of wine. I take a seat on a four seated with a table and directly opposite is the black guy from this morning...

Luckily there is just two of us. He does the best thing I can imagine.... He smiles at me as if he knew that I had just escaped a horrible date.

' are you the girl from the train this morning? '

I say ' it could be or it could be my twin sister?' I smile and laugh..the alcohol is wearing off as I have been drinking a bit of water.

The black guy goes ' not with those legs, not with that face and not with that smile...there is no one around here looking just like you. So it has to be you...)

'What a charmer you are' 

My Name is Mel and you are?' 

Denzel ' he says. 

For a moment we just look at each other blank. At a loss for words because just maybe the attraction is mutual. 

'I have to have this man...I have not spoken to him before. But I feel I have known him from a thousand years before. '

Even though we barely spoke. What is it about him...

A little cloud fills my mind. 

My mother used to say to me. Please my daughter marry a Chinese man. I know we brought you up in the UK but there a lot of good Chinese guys who understand our culture. 

She went on, fine if you marry a white man..it is not the best but we will accept as our son...what can we do. 

But do not ever try bring a black man into our family. We will certainly disown you.  Please don't bring shame on us.

Ever since I was young.. Something about black guys appealed to me but I could not tell you what. I had never dated or really hung out with black people.. So I thought this affection would die off. For a while it did and mentally I erased it out but I could not get it out of my bones, my heart....

Denzel at that moment said you have beautiful eyes.  I can see you good heart through those eyes.. 

What could I say? I was lost for words...I fumbled and stumbled for words. 

' what day are you free? Do you work in the area? We can meet for a lunch date if that is OK?'

Denzel replies ' how about Thursday? My dairy looks good. Couple of things in the morning and then free!'

 Take my card', as denzel gives me his card.

I give him mine. 

Today is Tuesday and Thursday looks so far away..

a look into the wishing well part 4

"Well. I think there is something we can try." The doctor quietly said as if he was speaking to himself.

He had the test results in front of him and he studied them and he looked at my husband and then me. 

" you cannot let those beautiful genes go to waste my son.." He laughed as he stood up and stroked my hair like his own daughter. 

He was an old man but a highly respected doctor. 

People came to him because when he needed to be he could be familiar, less stuff or professional. 

'Can I speak privately to your husband my dear? It will only be for a minute or two?"

"Certainly doctor. I will wait outside,' I replied.

When I had stepped out. The doctors face grew stern. George ( my husband) did not seem the least bit concerned but something said he expected what was to come next.

" Does she know why you can't have kids? "

George flashed back " it's in the past, she does not need to know anyhow. Besides you said something can be done. You are the urologist so what's this about harvesting immature sperm cells and letting then develop in vitro before implantation into my wife?"

"Why did you delay treatment? You would not be having these problems now? The old man spoke...' I know you don't want to talk about it and just to be sure you are not living that way anymore? You are rich so it is perfectly possible?"

"Yes it is. And no I am not. I was young and foolish. Maybe reckless. It's the only thing that used to make sense for me...I just chose the wrong one and I paid heavily. I did not want my family to know. I already had another issue brewing."

George thought for a moment. In his early twenties the number of girls he had been with. Those days, having a fancy car and fancy clothes did not require you to make any effort when it came to finding a quick thrill. 

In his immediate circle of friends he had slept with all the girls he knew, even trying his friends girlfriends. George remembered he cared very little how they looked. He enjoyed the thrill of dark alley ways and pulling panties to the side. It was his drug of choice - the sex. 

At 18 he made a girl pregnant and his family paid of this girl's family to disappear. It caused great tension in George's family especially since the girl was from a lower class and poor upbringing. George's father had said let us raise the child and let the girl continue her life. 

The girl's family refused and they had the support of George's mother.

'How can you separate a mother from he child?' She had asked. 

So it was agreed. Move out of town, we buy you land and a house and give money each year until the child is 18. Trouble us no more. 

His opinion was never asked and this angered George. Why? It was my child also. 

This anger pushed George to further sleep with more and more girls, throwing all caution to the wind. 

Until one made him sick. The burning sensation when he urinated. The limping and the redness around the genitals. 

He thought it would pass and he persisted in not seeing the dofaster.Once when he tried to pee he screamed so loud and startled his mother. She asked what was wrong. George had said he pulled a muscle and would see the doctor. 

He was prescribed a course of antibiotics for three weeks to try clear the infection. His doctor berated him...are you crazy... This would have done you a great deal of harm. Now it appears it had led to his infertility.

"So doctor. This is between you and me. No one is to know." 

"Yes doctor patient confidentiality. I swore an oath so no one needs to know."

"Second thing, if the first procedure does not work, we must speak to your brother and ask him to donate some semen, which we will mix with what we harvested from you. More than likely, you wife will carry your brother's child but that is OK. Biology yes but in all other senses it is your child."

George left the doctor's office and joined Olive. Well it would be a few interesting months. George did not particularly like any of his brothers. 

Forget it. He was not even going to bother with biological similarities, I will get my friend to donate. I cannot think of a better man than my best friend to be a sperm donor. 

My brothers are fools- the lot of them, why should I give them that honour? Soon they will want to take Olive from me too. 

He was getting angrier as he thought these things through..

"What's wrong Darling?" Asked Olive

"Nothing dear. Some business transaction I didn't complete is bothering me.." He covered with this line. 

Olive at 33 just seemed to look better and better. The wife of a wealthy man - she looked the part. Weekly manicures, facials and pedicures. The ate well, used the gym and swam every morning. 

Lately, one of the fashion magazines had requested her to model some of their clothing lines for women over thirty and it had turned out to be a big success. 

Soon more advertising and fashion work was coming. Her phone didn't stop ringing. 

It was going well. George now thought of running for political office.

Olive said it was not a good idea. She did not want to be a politicians wife. She knew the pressure and the scrutiny..

Meanwhile in Paris, life had become rather sad for Pierre. 

After the break from Olive, he had taken to the bottle. He drank way too much and looked after himself little. He lost some of his good looks and age that bit faster.

He had several girlfriends but none that he ever wanted to settle down with. He had improved as a painter to the point were he could make a living from his painting. 

The crown of all his paintings was of Olive - he had painted it from a picture he had taken of her. So many offers of vast sums of money for that painting but it was never for sale....

To be continued