Masi'shen Evolution
Chapter 4: One and One make Three

Copyright© 2016 by Graybyrd

Three and Three make Nine

Michael Hawthorne stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of their guest suite watching two suns descend to the far horizon. He felt little warmth from either; one was large and pale yellow; the other much smaller, a gleaming white disc. He had no idea how far either sun was from the planet, but compared to the blazing hot brilliance of Sol in his home system, he reasoned that the Masi’shen suns were much farther from this planet and less intense. This was a cold planet, an ice planet. It was a miracle that Dee’rah’s people evolved to overcome all obstacles. They became the foremost space-faring race of their galaxy. But that was not his concern, just now.

He stretched himself, standing tall before the window. He was mostly unclothed but for a white fiber wrap around his waist extending nearly to his knees. He dug his toes deeply into the lush carpet. He swung his outstretched arms over his head to nearly touch the fiber-paneled ceiling. He lowered his arms, stretched them outward again, and swiveled himself in half circles from his hips, loosening and working his body. His muscles and joints felt stiff from days of confinement in the healing chamber and the several weeks aboard the T’shu-niach during their long voyage from Earth.

Michael had not yet seen himself in a mirror but looking down at his chest, waist, arms and legs, he saw a profound transformation. His body no longer bore the scars of two wars, the Siple Island helicopter crash, or the Pahsimeroi Valley carnage. His body was smooth and unblemished, a fully mature male, firm and well muscled. Despite his maturity, no hair remained anywhere on his body but for a mat of golden blonde hair on his head. His Scandinavian heritage had given him a fair complexion and blonde hair, but this was different. His golden hair lay wavy and thick on his head like a skullcap. He had not the least hint of male-pattern baldness despite his thirty-eight Earth years of life.

His face retained its original features: a high, proud forehead; thickly-crested brows above deep-set blue eyes; a narrow, sharply defined nose with broad nostrils; and a wide mouth with full lips. His chin was strong and square with a broad jaw. His head sat on a strong neck over square and generously muscled shoulders. He no longer suffered the scars and disfigurements of his wounds from the Middle East wars.

He felt good! Better, in fact, than he could ever remember. He was not yet aware of it, but he had grown taller in the healing chamber. He had been a tall man at six feet, six inches. Now he towered a full seven feet and weighed 240 pounds, a slender weight given his new height.

He glowed with a golden radiance. He’d be a long, long time becoming accustomed to that, despite his time with Dee’rah and her parents and the Masi’shen. All Masi’shen bore a soft, golden radiance.

 
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