ADMIRAL’S GHOST
Book One in the Onyalum Series
By NB VanYoos
ADMIRAL’S GHOST
Book One in the Onyalum Series
Copyright ©2005 by NB VanYoos
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
The paperback version of this book may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting the publisher:
www.lulu.com
Phone: 001-919-447-3290
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid.
ISBN: 978-1-452-37163-4 (ebk)
First Trade Paperback Edition (Onyalum Retribution): August, 2005.
For more information on the Onyalum Series: www.onyalum.com
This is a work of fiction. All the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover Art Credit:
NASA and The Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA)
https://hubblesite.org/newscenter/archive/releases/2004/10/
I dedicate this first book to my lovely wife, Heidi, whose love and support through the years is singularly responsible for the realization of this dream.
Table of Contents
Beyond Death
A Needle In The Universe
Fate's Teacher
Admiral's Luck
Calm Before The Storm
Yooso
The Admiral's Soliloquy
Purgatory
About The Author
Other Books By NB VanYoos
Preview of the next book in the Onyalum series
ret·ri·bu·tion n
… dispensing or receiving of reward or punishment esp. in the hereafter.
Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary, 1986, MERRIAM-WEBSTER INC., Springfield Massachusetts, USA
“Beware, there are beings of this Universe that will do you harm. The Onyalum possess the flesh of the dead, bringing back a distorted form of the life that once lived within. Their motives are evil, and they will bring death and destruction to you and your peoples. Be wary of those whose recovery seems miraculous, for only my interventions are a miracle. You will know when it is my miracle, for all others, it is an Onyalum.”
Mishthrap’s Dream, Gospels of Thosolan, Modern Edition, 14th Translation
Beyond Death
Tyler Jensen woke slowly to the sound of traffic drifting through an open window. His body was sore from the hardwood floor he’d slept on, and his thoughts swam thick from the night’s party. As was common these days, he wasn’t certain where they were. Memories of the night’s activities ran through his mind in incoherent flashes of people, music, and consumption.
The room was large with vaulted ceilings and sparse furnishings. Cluttered remnants of the party lay scattered throughout the room as bodies slept off various effects. His girlfriend, Linda, was quietly curled in a blanket on the corner of a large rug against the back wall.
He didn’t recognize the place, but assumed they were in a loft converted from an old warehouse or manufacturing facility. From the sounds coming in through the open windows, he figured they were somewhere in an industrial park. He leaned stiffly against the wall, lighting a cigarette to start his day. He was accustomed to waking like this and wasn’t even sure what day it was.
His head throbbed with the dull memories of consumption, and spotting a partially filled beer bottle, he drank the dregs hoping to ease the incessant pounding. The beer was warm and flat, but it contained the precious alcohol that would ease his pain. Hair of the dog, he thought absently.
Across from Tyler, a large archway led into another room where industrious sounds mixed with the occasional clink of bottles. Somebody was cleaning up. One of the hosts? Who cared, Tyler never offered to help.
Snuffing his cigarette out in the empty beer bottle, he nudged Linda. She groaned hollowly before pulling the blanket tighter around her. Despite the hard night, she was still beautiful. Only her mussed up hair betrayed the debauchery that was a regular part of their lives. Tyler didn’t understand why she’d stayed with him. She deserved better, and he was the first to admit it.
Linda Ashton came from an affluent family in Bellaire. Tyler had met her six years earlier at a beach party thrown by one of her fellow UCLA students. He’d been one of the ‘suppliers’ invited to the outing, but after meeting Linda, he’d spent all his time entertaining her.
Tyler, on the other hand, had come from a dysfunctional, lower-middle class family in the valley. After his parents split up, he’d drifted through the rest of high school before moving out after graduation. During those final years at home, he’d become a distant member of the family he no longer felt part of.
For several years afterwards, Tyler had drifted in and out of low-end jobs while attending the local community college. He was declared for an associate’s degree in business, but his heart never fully embraced academics. As the years went by, he lost what limited direction he’d had and replaced his goals with substance use.
It was during a brief stint as an assistant manager of a movie theatre that he’d met Raul Sanchez at a co-worker’s party. Like Linda, Tyler and Raul quickly became friends, and within a few short months, Tyler quit his job to sell drugs for Raul full time. Tyler still attended the community college, for a while, since it proved lucrative for his new business venture.
It was a great life. He earned five times what he’d made before and all his party supplies were provided. It didn’t take long before he became well acquainted with the elite of Los Angeles.
Fortunately, Raul wasn’t connected with the typical gangs controlling much of the drug market. Instead, his clientele leaned heavily toward upper-middle class and wealthy youth. It was a safe market, and Tyler quickly established himself as a top distributor.
He’d met Linda when she was a junior at UCLA. Like so many at that school, she was studying to become an actor. Although she drank and occasionally smoked weed before meeting him, she’d never experienced the wide range of narcotics Tyler provided. It took little time before he opened her eyes to a larger world of possibilities, and after six years together, their lives were a whirlwind of parties. His exotic lifestyle lured her from the life she’d known, and it wasn’t long before she dropped out of school and moved in with him. A short time after, she became alienated from her family and turned away from the haughty world of Bellaire.
Tyler felt guilty about corrupting her, but after his own downfall, he’d discovered his judgment was jaded. He felt important in the ‘in’ crowd, and if anything got you down, you had a pharmacopia of substances to lift the spirits or ease your pain. Linda readily traded her previous life for the non-stop merry-go-round.
She worked at a second hand store specializing in classic clothing from the sixties and seventies. Although she didn’t need the work, she loved the styles and socialization it provided. Tyler didn’t mind, it brought a great deal of business his way through connections in her shop.
As Tyler lit another cigarette, he wondered what future they would have together. She often spoke of marriage and children but she never pressed him with those ideas. Tyler knew she barely concealed her desire to start a new life—a more ‘normal’ life. He wasn’t certain he could provide it, so he conveniently avoided the issue.
Although he realized she wouldn’t continue their lifestyle forever, he fe
ared losing her more than life. It was a constant frustration that drove him further down the path of self destruction. He thought he wanted change, but he wasn’t certain how to achieve it. The thought of a regular job frightened him nearly as much as losing Linda. The power and prestige of his position could never be replaced with a typical desk job. He felt trapped.
Every day, his lifestyle inflicted increasing damage on his body and mind, and even Raul suggested he take a break and dry out. Tyler knew it was sound advice after watching so many of his best customers destroy their lives for the next high. Would that be his fate? Many even overdosed—something he’d recently begun to fear.
He hit the cigarette, exhaling a cloud into the vaulted ceiling. No drug could ease his troubled thoughts, and he realized he and Linda needed to find rest and solitude to re-discover themselves and their relationship. How often did they wake up in crowded rooms? They were rarely intimate these days, and this began to weigh heavily on their relationship.
Raul had offered Tyler the use of his villa on the Pacific coast of Mexico, but Tyler never took advantage of this generosity. Perhaps now was the time to accept his offer and get away from the life that was killing them. Maybe getting out of town would help clear the mind and provide them the opportunity to discuss the direction their relationship was headed. Tyler knew it was a hard road that lay ahead, but losing her would be far worse.
He put out his second cigarette and made up his mind to talk with Raul that afternoon. He was almost thirty, and time was catching up. He’d put off a vacation for too many years, but assumed it was better late than never. He warmed to the idea of relaxing in a Mexican villa far from Los Angeles.
He nudged Linda again, and this time her eyes blinked briefly. He was amazed that the simple act of touching her could produce such warm feelings. It was this warmth that convinced him he was making the right decision. He knew she’d be excited, she’d always urged him to take time off and travel.