Shipwreck on Lysithea (Mastery of the Stars Book 4)

by M J Dees

  “The Mastery of the Stars? Isn’t that the ship taking Ozli to Tomorrow?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay, put it through.”

  A crackly image of Ozli replaced the crackly image of the guard.

  “I am returning to Future,” the image spoke. “I shall see you when I arrive and tell you my story of my unexpected return.”

  The screen flickered and went blank.

  “What does this mean?” asked the President. “Are they all coming back? Or is it a trick and nothing has happened at all?”

  “Are you sure it was him?” asked Fenris.

  “It was definitely him. Any ideas?”

  “No idea, I’m afraid, but let him come, I would like to confront him myself.”

  “If you wish.”

  “Good. So, you will not force me to be friendly?”

  “I will not. If he has come back and abandoned his mission and does not intend to return, then I have a new plot ready which he will not escape and they will be able to blame no-one for his death. Not even his co-begetter will suspect trickery. It will look like an accident.”

  “I would like it better if I could be the agent of his death,” said Fenris.

  “If it falls into place. Many in the Republic have been talking about you, some of these conversations have been in front of Ozli and they have been very favourable to you. Ozli has not shown the slightest degree of envy except on one occasion.”

  “What was that?”

  “There was once a visitor from Helios Station on Zistreotov. He was fast, you should have seen him at the 100 Qbits Sprint, very skilful, almost as if he was one with his vehicle.”

  “He was from Zistreotov, was he?”

  “From Zistreotov.”

  “Jahraldo.”

  “The very same.”

  “I know him very well. He is exceptionally good.”

  “He spoke of you, Fenris. He said you are very skilled at Jetpack Tag and doubted that anyone could beat you. When Ozli heard this, he became very envious and was looking forward to your return so that he could challenge you.”

  “I fail to understand the relevance.”

  “Did you love your begetter, Fenris?”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not that I don’t think you loved your begetter,” explained the President. “But, in my experience, time dulls its flame. Sometimes delay dampens the desire. What would you like to do when Ozli returns?”

  “I would like to kill him.”

  “Revenge is good, Fenris, but do me a favour. When Ozli arrives, confine yourself to your rooms. When he gets here, Ozli will know you have returned. We will praise you in his presence and stir up the envy once more. Then we will have a competition and gamble on the outcome. Ozli, being careless, won’t examine the jet packs so that with ease, or a little shuffling, we can ensure Ozli receives a faulty jet pack. Then, with a deliberate shove, you will revenge your begetter.”

  “Okay, I will do it,” said Fenris. “I know exactly how to adjust the jet pack so that the slightest knock in the correct place will trigger a fatal failure. I’ll ensure I do it at such an altitude that it will mean certain death.”

  “Let us plan further and decide the best time for our plot. If we fail, it would have been better not to have tried at all. We need a contingency plan in case our first fails. Let us, in the refreshment break, supply some poisoned pish that will do the job.”

  Ozli’s mother entered the control room.

  “How is it going, my partner?” asked the President.

  “Dreadful news follows fast after dreadful news,” she said. “It’s your co-beggoton, Fenris. Zarah is dead.”

  “Dead?” asked Fenris. “Where?”

  “They found her in the grounds, she had decorated her vehicle with flowers from the grounds and had pierced her own observation dome, mixing her own gas of life with the chemicals in the air of Future which, she must have known, would be lethal for her. By the time they found her, it was already too late. Her living vapours had diffused.”

  “Then she is dead?”

  “Yes, dead and gone.”

  “Goodbye, I must go.”

  The President and Ozli’s mother watched Fenris leave.

  “Let’s follow him,” said the President. “I have just calmed him down, now I think that will stir him up again. Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 10: HEADLONG FLIGHT

  “Is it going to be a traditional ceremony to send her to the Better Place?” asked a guard, protecting the entrance to the ceremonial garden. “I thought they could only go to the worse place if they took their own lives.”

  “She is,” said the second guard. “They are giving her a proper ceremony.”

  “How can that be?” asked the first. “Unless she killed herself in her own defence?”

  “Apparently, that is the case.”

  “It must have been self-defence, it can’t be anything else. She can’t have taken her own life willingly.”

  “How do you work that one out?”

  “If they use a device to pierce their life preserving dome and die, they go to the worse place. But if the object or device comes to them, they are not guilty of shortening their own life and they go to the better place.”

  “Is that the law?”

  “It is.”

  “Well, it sounds reasonable. If she had not been so high in Republic society, she would have gone straight to the worse place.”

  “You’ve hit the Scatan on the Kelxons, there. It’s a shame that those higher in the Republic have permission to end their lives as they please.”

  “Enough of this, I have to go. Enjoy your watch.”

  The second guard left, leaving the first guard protecting the ceremonial garden alone.

  “When I was young and so in love, I thought it was very nice,” the guard sang. “To enjoy myself, have a wonderful time. There was nothing as nice.”

  “Look at that guard singing as he guards the ceremonial garden,” said Ozli to Sevan as they entered the grounds from the caves. “Does he have no respect for the memory of those he is guarding within?”

  “What is the ceremonial garden?” asked Sevan.

  “It is the place where we hold ceremonies to send those who have died to the better place. It is a kind of garden of remembrance, I suppose.”

  “Maybe he has become relaxed in his duty.”

  “But as I got older,” the guard continued to sing. “Age has held me tight. One day it will despatch me, no matter how I fight.”

  “Those remembered in that garden used to sing like him,” said Ozli. “There are so many remembered inside.”

  “A weapon slung by my side, to guard the honoured dead,” the guard continued to sing. “That they may see the better place, that’s way above my head.”

  “I’ll speak with that guard,” said Ozli, moving over to the entrance of the garden. “Why are you guarding the ceremonial garden?”

  “There’ll be a ceremony,” said the guard, abruptly straightening up.

  “A ceremony? For whom?”

  “One of those high in the Republic society.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Not he.”

  “She then.”

  “Not she neither.”

  “Well, who then?”

  “She was she but she is no more.”

  “How long have you been a guard?”

  “Since the old president overcame the outer regions.”

  “How long is that?” asked Ozli.

  “Do you not know? It was the same day that young Ozli was born,” said the guard, oblivious of who he was talking to. “Ozli is mad, they have sent him to Tomorrow.”

  “Why was he sent to Tomorrow?” Ozli probed.

  “Because he was mad. He will recover there and if he doesn’t it doesn’t matter.”

  “Why?”

  “No one will notice his madness on Tomorrow. They are all mad in the Corporation.”

  “How did he become mad?
”

  “Strangely they say.”

  “What do you mean? Strangely?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “Do you always guard the ceremonial garden?” asked Sevan.

  “Oh yes, I know everyone here and look,” the guard allowed them to enter the garden a little. “There are marks for everyone who they have sent to the better place from here.”

  “Whose mark is that over there?” A tool emerged from Ozli’s vehicle and pointed to a mark near the entrance to the garden.

  “He was definitely mad, he was. Do you know who he was?”

  “No idea.”

  “He was terrible, poured pish over my head once. He was the President’s joker, Gedo.”

  “He was?”

  “He was.”

  “Ah, poor Gedo. I knew him well, Sevan. A very funny joker, he used to entertain me when I was younger. Where are his jokes now? He was the life and soul of a party. There is no-one to cheer up the presidential palace now. Everyone is miserable. We are all recycled in the end, Sevan.”

  “Look, over there,” said Sevan.

  Ozli turned to where Sevan was pointing and saw his mother with the President, Fenris, an official and guards carrying a box.

  “What’s happening? Is this the ceremony the guard was talking about? Come on, let’s hide over there and see what’s going on,”

  “She should have the ceremony,” they could hear Fenris complaining to the official who was a celebrant. “Why shouldn't she have a ceremony?”

  “The ceremony will be as elaborate as they have authorised me,” said the official. “Her death was doubtful and without the order I would not have been able to offer her to the better place.”

  “Can we do no more to guarantee her entry to the better place,” asked Fenris.

  “We cannot disrespect the ceremony.”

  “You are ignorant,” Fenris abused the official. “She will be looked after by the guardians of the better place long after you are suffering in the other place.”

  “Oh, poor Zarah,” Ozli’s mother cried out.

  “Zarah?” Ozli wondered aloud.

  “I wish you could have made a union with my Ozli,” His mother lamented. “I thought I would have decorated the ceremony of your union, not attend your death ceremony.”

  “I wish I could go to the better place with her,” said Fenris.

  Ozli emerged from his hiding place.

  “Who are you to grieve so loudly,” shouted Ozli. “I am Ozli.”

  Fenris moved towards Ozli and activated his vehicle’s weapons. Ozli, in turn, activated his.

  “Go to the worse place!” Fenris shouted at Ozli.

  “You have misplaced your wishes Fenris. Put away your weapons because I am as dangerous as you.”

  “Split them up,” ordered the President.

  “Ozli,” reasoned Sevan.

  “I will fight him,” warned Ozli.

  “Why?” cried his mother.

  “I loved Zarah. Forty thousand co-begottons could not amass the same love.”

  “He is mad, Fenris,” said the President.

  “Leave him alone,” Ozli’s mother pleaded.

  “Show me what you would do,” Ozli challenged Fenris. “Would you grieve, punish yourself? Drown yourself in pish? Eat a Kaek? I will do all these things. Do you come here to complain? To outdo me with grief? Go to the better place with her, and so will I. You can rant all you want; I can rant just as well as you.”

  “This is madness,” said Ozli’s mother.

  “Do what you will,” said Ozli, before turning and leaving, followed by Sevan, completely bemused by the entire scene.

  “Be patient,” the President advised Fenris. “Remember what we spoke about. We will put the plan into action as soon as possible.”

  The President turned to Ozli’s mother.

  “Come, my partner, let us find where your begotton has gone to in his headlong flight.”

  Ozli’s mother followed the President out of the garden.

  CHAPTER 11: THE ASSASSIN

  “I am tired, Sevan,” Ozli complained to Sevan. “That business at Lysithea was too much.”

  “I know,” Sevan sighed.

  “I keep thinking of the battle. That could have been the end for us, Sevan.”

  “It amazed me that you got us out of there,” Sevan admitted. “Every time we take a step towards home, we end up taking one or two steps back.”

  “I am still troubled by the memory of the fight, Sevan, even though it was nowhere near as bad as the sights we saw at Trinculo. I really thought we would not escape and yet, sometimes our intuition serves us well. When our plots fail, there is something looking after us.”

  “Are you starting to believe? It was you who negotiated with the pirates, Ozli, not some kind of higher power.”

  “I’m not talking about the pirates, Sevan, I’m talking about Tafazolli and de Wijs. As we left Future, when they were in their quarters, I accessed the orders they had received from the President to hand over to the corporation on Tomorrow. It was an exact command, Sevan, decorated with all kinds of reasons, talking about the good of the Republic and the good of the Corporation and many terrible things that would happen if I lived. They would have killed me, Sevan.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I will send it to you so you can see it at your leisure. I thought they had trapped me, Sevan, but I engineered a cunning plan. They had made the first move so, just like a game of Screxels, I had to react. I took the original message, and, with Ron’s help, we forged a new message almost indistinguishable from the original but with new orders.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this? What were the new orders?”

  “It was a promise from the President, that peace would exist between the Republic and the Corporation as long as the Corporation would execute the messengers delivering the message.”

  “So, you always intended Tafazolli and de Wijs to go alone?”

  “Yes, it was I who organised the attack by the pirates.”

  “What? You know pirates? They could have killed us.”

  “Yes, the plan almost went horribly wrong. I couldn’t let you, Ay-ttho or Tori in on the plan in case you behaved in a way that made Taffazolli or de Wijs suspicious.”

  “So, you knew they would take the escape shuttle?”

  “Yes, I made sure they knew about it and how to use it. I knew they would.”

  “Weren’t you friends?”

  “We knew each other many solar cycles ago but I do not feel guilty for their fate, they knew what they were doing, they were opportunists who did not have what it takes to survive the kinds of games they were trying to play. The President has killed my father, taken my mother, and now he tries to kill me, although I think it is not the first time.”

  “You think he was trying to kill you at Trinculo?”

  “I am sure of it. And to use such trickery. Sending us to Tomorrow for the Corporation to kill us. I will kill him, Sevan.”

  “But Ozli, he will soon get a message from Tomorrow and find out what has happened there.”

  “He will, but the meantime is mine. Anyone’s life is but a moment, Sevan. I am sorry that I lost my composure in front of Fenris. He only seeks revenge like me. I will be more polite to him the next time I see him.”

  As they were making their way through the palace, Ozli and Sevan met one of the palace employees, Kirkland, coming from the opposite direction.

  “Welcome back, Ozli,” said Kirkland as he drew near.

  “Thank you. Sevan, do you know Kirkland?”

  “No, I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “Then you were fortunate until now,” said Ozli. “He is extraordinarily rich and that is why he roams the palace. Give a Ghot'ok enough credits and they would let him roam the palace. Though this Ghot'ok is generous with his credits, it is true.”

  “Joking aside, Ozli,” said Kirkland. “I have some information from the President.”

 
“I will hear this information. What is it, Kirkland?”

  “The President is betting against you, Ozli.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Fenris has returned from Zistreotov.”

  “This much I already know. I know Fenris very well, and my experience of him has only been good.”

  “You like him?” asked Kirkland.

  “Why are we even talking about him?” asked Ozli.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “If you don’t understand, how am I supposed to understand?”

  “Kirkland, why did you mention Fenris?” Sevan asked.

  “Do you not know?” it puzzled Kirkland.

  “About what?” Ozli was losing his patience.

  “The President has bet that Fenris would beat you by less than three lengths if he challenged you with the jet pack.”

  “He thinks Fenris would beat me?”

  “He knows Fenris would win but he thinks that you would get within three lengths of him."

  "Who says that I would race Fenris?"

  "Would you agree to race Fenris?" asked Kirkland.

  "If the President wishes me to race Fenris," said Ozli. "Then I will race Fenris."

  "May I pass this acceptance on to the President?"

  "You can do what you like, Kirkland."

  "Thank you, Ozli," said Kirkland, hurrying away.

  "He seems in a hurry to get away," Sevan observed.

  "I guess it worried him that we might meet his request with a different answer."

  Sevan and Ozli continued their journey through the palace, and before long they met another member of the presidential staff.

  "Ozli," the member of staff greeted them as he approached. "Kirkland reported to us you will race Fenris. Are you willing to race him now or would you like more time?"

  "If he is ready, then I am ready," said Ozli.

  “I will tell them,” said the member of staff. “They will meet you at the launch pad.”

  “We will meet everyone there.”

  “There is something else,” the staff member sounded nervous.

  “Yes?”

  “Your co-begetter, the president’s partner, requests that you try to be nice to Fenris before the race.”

  “How could I not grant such a request?”