Veklocks

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by S. H. Jucha




  VEKLOCKS

  Pyreans Book 4

  S. H. JUCHA

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by S. H. Jucha

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Published by Hannon Books, Inc.

  www.scottjucha.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9600459-2-1 (e-book)

  ISBN: 978-0-9600459-3-8 (softcover)

  First Edition: July 2019

  Cover Design: Damon Za

  Formatting: Polgarus Studio

  Table of Contents

  Author’s Note

  -1- Rictook’s Passing

  -2- Triumvirate

  -3- Triton

  -4- Traitors

  -5- Twenty

  -6- The Offer

  -7- Allies

  -8- Weapons

  -9- Targets

  -10- Secrets

  -11- Three Proposals

  -12- Sika’s Targets

  -13- Tsargit’s Reply

  -14- Journeys

  -15- Alternatives

  -16- Three Intrusions

  -17- Now What?

  -18- Hyronzy Station

  -19- The Bluff

  -20- Tsargit Council

  -21- New Friends

  -22- Norloth

  -23- Projects

  -24- New Friends

  -25- What Are You?

  -26- Sika’s Opening

  -27- Interrogation

  -28- Plebiscite

  -29- Imian’s Revolution

  -30- Underground

  -31- If We Win

  -32- Recyclers

  -33- Sika’s Return

  -34- Downsiders’ Dilemma

  -35- Tails

  -36- Target

  -37- Elections

  -38- One More Look

  -39- Assembly

  -40- Epilogue

  Glossary

  My Books

  The Author

  Acknowledgments

  Veklocks is the fourth book in the Pyreans series. I wish to extend a special thanks to my independent editor, Joni Wilson, whose efforts enabled the finished product. To my proofreaders, Abiola Streete, Dr. Jan Hamilton, David Melvin, Ron Critchfield, Pat Bailey, Mykola Dolgalov, and Tiffany Crutchfield, I offer my sincere thanks for their support.

  I wish to thank several sources for information incorporated into the book’s science. The bone replacement copy (BRC, pronounced brick) originated from the website of EpiBone and commentary by CEO Nina Tandon.

  The El car diamond-thread cable concept was borrowed from Penn State Professor John Badding and Dow Chemical Company senior R&D analytical chemist Tom Fitzgibbons, who isolated liquid-state benzene molecules into a zigzagging arrangement of rings of carbon atoms in the shape of a triangular pyramid — a formation similar to that of diamonds.

  I’m a fan of James White and his Sector General series of twelve, science fiction novels, which were set aboard the Sector 12 General Hospital, a huge hospital space station. The facilities were designed to treat a wide variety of life forms, with a broad range of ailments and life-support requirements. I’m pleased and proud to pay homage to Mr. White’s legacy by borrowing his concept for Rissness Station.

  My thanks to Michael Fossel, MD, PhD, with whom I’ve had formative discussions about telomere lengthening, which I mention in this story. I highly recommend his book, The Telomerase Revolution: The Enzyme That Holds the Key to Human Aging and Will Lead to Longer, Healthier Lives.

  Despite the assistance I’ve received from others, all errors are mine.

  Glossary

  A glossary is located at the end of the book. Some alien names are used frequently. For pronunciation of many of them, refer to the glossary. For instance, Jatouche is pronounced as jaw-toosh, with a hard “j,” as are all the Jatouche names beginning with “j.”

  Author’s Note

  My first novels created the Silver Ships series, which details the stories of humans and their allies a millennium in the future. Later, I added the Pyreans series, relating the history of another group of humans.

  Each of three worlds — New Terra, Méridien, and Pyre — were established by colonists who launched aboard massive exploration ships from Earth within the same century. While these two series are set in the same universe, the timelines of the Silver Ships and the Pyreans are separated by about four hundred years.

  I recommend to individuals who enjoy the Pyreans series but have not yet read the Silver Ships series that they should take the opportunity to read the Silver Ships series after this novel. You’ll discover the original series is similar to the Pyreans books. They possess strong characters who challenge the status quo, despite the obstacles they face, and they create profound and lasting changes in their worlds.

  The story of the Pyreans doesn’t end with Veklocks. The two series will merge and reveal a future that includes descendants of Pyrean characters, who readers enjoy, and our adventuresome present-day Omnians of the Silver Ships series.

  In the Silver Ships novel, Alliance, which follows the recently released Sojourn, ex-Earther Olawale Wombo and a small band of Omnians have supported the technological uplift of the inhabitants of Sol, the Earth’s star. There exists a strong desire among Earthers to know the fates of their colony ships, which launched to claim new worlds. The Omnians and the Earthers set sail to explore the fate of one of these colony ships, the Honora Belle, the transport of the Pyreans.

  I want to thank my readers for your ongoing interest in the novels I write. I hope to continue to entertain you with exciting and thought-provoking stories of the possibilities that, one day, our galaxy might hold for humankind.

  S. H. Jucha

  July 2019

  -1-

  Rictook’s Passing

  The Jatouche monarch, Rictook, was dying. It was his time. His body’s telomeres had been lengthened, granting him an extended life. By the rules of the Tsargit, the alliance’s governing body, of which the Jatouche were members, the procedure was granted only once to an individual.

  After a lengthy sleep, Rictook woke late in the morning. For the first time in many cycles, he appeared refreshed and relaxed.

  Lindsey Jabrook, the senior of two Pyrean empaths, provided support for Rictook. In the ruler’s present state, it required little effort on Lindsey’s part to ease his pain.

  Staff notified Tacticnok, the monarch’s daughter, that her father was awake, and she hurried to his side.

  Rictook gazed at his eldest, when she knelt by his raised pallet. His eyes held compassion and hope for her. Tacticnok was young. Yet, on his death, the enormous responsibility of ruling the Jatouche would be thrust upon her. He did have high expectations for her reign. Already, Tacticnok had taken bold steps that had delivered incredible results for the citizenry. She’d attracted the Tsargit’s attention, due to her improbable forming of a bond with the technologically backward Pyreans, the humans.

  “You look rested, Your Excellency,” Tacticnok said tenderly, addressing her father formally in the company of others. She reached a furred hand to grasp her father’s.

  In turn, Rictook squeezed his daughter’s hand. “Today is better,” he said.

  The staff looked at one another with concern. The monarch’s recent weight loss and accelerated graying fur marked the body’s final act of defiance against an inevitable end. His body’s resources were being sacrificed at a heightened rate
in an effort to delay fate.

  Tracy Shaver and Sasha Garmenti, the other Pyreans, rested on nearby pallets. Tracy was one of the Pyrean dome explorers, and her courage was celebrated by the Jatouche. She’d accompanied the empaths, as a minder. To be precise, Harbour, the Pyrean envoy to the Jatouche, had sent Tracy to curtail some of Sasha’s impetuousness.

  That Sasha was a teenager was part of the problem. The other potent aspect of Sasha’s personality was that she was one of the most powerful empaths. Her fellow empaths described Sasha as having limited control. She was either on or off. And without the control that could direct her power toward a single individual, a room had to be vacated or everyone would feel the emotions she emanated.

  When Rictook’s discomfort was greatest, which was usually late in the cycle, Sasha would be left alone with the ruler. From the pain Rictook felt, the lips along his muzzle would tighten in a snarl, and Sasha would feel his emotionally charged emanations. Then her ministrations would blanket Rictook’s mind, clearing his tortured expressions and allowing him to rest and, eventually, to sleep.

  The Jatouche were known throughout the alliance for their medical services. Races of all sorts journeyed through the Q-gates, which connected the alliance’s systems and unexplored worlds, to seek medical services. An ancient race, the Messinants, who were no longer present, had built a vast number of domes. Each dome possessed one or more gates, and each gate was paired with one other destination. The races referred to their instantaneous transfers as journeying.

  Rictook could have spent his final cycles aboard the Jatouche premier construction, Rissness Medical Station, under the care of excellent medical practitioners. Approaching the end of his life, he would be placed in a peaceful state of neurological suspension.

  However, events precipitated by the Pyreans’ activation of their single Q-gate had catapulted the Jatouche to the forefront of Tsargit politics. Rictook made the decision that it was necessary to forgo the expected medical support for his final days. He needed to be alert and discuss the future’s ramifications with his daughter. At a time when the Jatouche couldn’t be treading a more tumultuous path, Tacticnok would don the royal crown.

  In sympathy with Rictook’s decision to remain alert, Harbour, who was the empaths’ leader, among other things, had sent support to ease the ruler’s final cycles.

  The monarch glanced toward Lindsey, whose hand rested on his bare arm. He flashed his teeth and softly chittered. Lindsey’s ear wig, a Jatouche gift, translated Rictook’s speech.

  “Your services have been appreciated,” Rictook said. “The time you’ve given me with Her Highness has been invaluable.”

  “We’re repaying you, Your Excellency, and Her Highness for rescuing Pyre,” Lindsey replied, which Rictook’s ear wig translated. “Without your aid, Pyreans might have struggled for centuries to reclaim Pyre.”

  “Our meeting has been fortuitous,” Rictook pronounced. “It has taken patience, inventiveness, and courage from both races to carry us to this moment.”

  With a free hand, Lindsey adjusted her ear wig. The translation programs were a miracle of the Messinants dome consoles. Speech patterns were recorded by the console, as two species examined images over the course of many cycles. Simple images migrated toward much more complex ones. In the end, the console produced a language program for the ear wigs. Over time, the translation programs would grow with corrections and additions, as the two species interacted. An ear wig in the presence of another race would exchange updates to their shared programs.

  Rictook turned to face Tacticnok, and he continued their discussion where they’d left off the previous afternoon. This time, he spoke urgently, as if sensing that the end was approaching. Soon, he exhausted his energy and fell asleep.

  Late in the afternoon, Lindsey sent a staff member to Sasha. Lindsey was requesting to be relieved, and Sasha hurried to the ruler’s private apartment.

  “He’s resting peacefully,” Lindsey said to Sasha, when the teenager tiptoed into the room.

  A medical team was bustling around Rictook, caring for his physiological needs. When the team finished, they exited the apartment.

  “Are you rested, Sasha?” Lindsey asked.

  “Tracy made me take a nap,” Sasha replied petulantly. “I’m good until star-rise.”

  More than once, Sasha was tempted to utilize her powers in response to Tracy’s directives, which she considered overbearing. Only one thing stopped her. After they returned via the gates to Pyre, she would have to face Harbour and pay for her transgressions.

  For hours, there was little for Sasha to do. She lay on a raised pallet next to Rictook’s. She’d laid a finger on his arm to enable a finer sensing of his needs, while she dozed.

  The raised pallet was the common piece of furniture for the Jatouche. While conversing, they preferred to lie on their sides, which accommodated their bushy tails.

  Staff frequently peeked through the doors, felt nothing from Sasha, and tiptoed into the room to examine their monarch. Satisfied that all was well, they quietly exited.

  It was in the early morning hours, when Sasha awakened to sensations of fear and pain. She abruptly sat up and gripped Rictook’s arm. The ruler struggled in his sleep, and his short, dark claws curled and flexed.

  Sasha coiled her power, opened her gates, and sent a feeling of bliss and calm to Rictook. His tense body relaxed, and he immediately lay quiet on his pallet.

  Slowly Rictook’s eyes opened. They were sad. “It’s my time,” he said to Sasha.

  “You’ll be fine, Your Excellency,” Sasha replied hopefully.

  “No, Sasha, but it’s appropriate that you are my final companion — an elderly Jatouche, who’s leaving this world, as a young Pyrean greets my race,” Rictook replied. He saw Sasha’s eyes widen, and he asked, “Are you frightened?”

  “No … yes,” Sasha managed to stammer.

  Sasha’s emotional challenge was that her power had grown at a phenomenal rate, and it had given her a sense of invincibility. She was the empath who had cured Lindsey and other elderly empaths. They’d lost their ability to block the sendings of others, especially normals, who couldn’t control what they felt. Through Sasha’s efforts, that critical gate control was restored.

  “If you wish to leave, I would understand,” Rictook said.

  Sasha was tempted, which caused her to hesitate. That interrupted her focus, and she saw the ruler’s gray-furred lips shudder. She quickly channeled her power, calming Rictook’s mind and soothing away the pain.

  “You’re a brave human,” the ruler commented, when his thoughts cleared. “Do not lament my passing, daughter.”

  Sasha’s heart squeezed, and she struggled to maintain control. The history of her family was dark. The escape of her sister, Aurelia, from their family’s captivity had eventually liberated her mother and her.

  During Sasha’s years in the downside governor’s house, she’d never experienced a father’s love. The empaths of the Honora Belle, the original colony ship, took her family under their care, but they were all females. It was the nature of genetics. The ship’s residents befriended her, but she was often kept at arm’s length due to her uncontrolled power.

  As strange as it was, Sasha’s first father figure was an alien ruler, and he was dying. Tears clouded her eyes. She’d held to her amazing powers as proof of her worth. Now when she depended on those powers to mean something, she saw that belief for the childish fantasy it had been. Her capabilities had their uses. There was no denying that. But they were merely tools. She couldn’t save the monarch, who had adopted her by right of his kindness to her. She could only ease his pain.

  The light of Na-Tikkook’s star brightened a row of dark apartment windows. Rictook opened his eyes and focused on the light. “A new day, Sasha … at least, for you,” he said. Then with a long sigh, he exhaled a final breath.

  A little later, staff crept into Rictook’s private chamber. They discovered a human teenager, tears rolling down her
cheeks and smooth pink hands clasping their dead ruler’s gray furred one.

  * * * *

  The Jatouche mourned the passing of their monarch. His body was transmitted to Rissness Station, the medical platform near the Jatouche moon, where the system’s dome was located.

  After the end of the prescribed period of lament, Tacticnok was elevated to the throne. She was the first female to occupy the lofty position since the uplift of the species by the Messinants.

  Most Jatouche were ecstatic about their new ruler, but some were not.

  Following the ceremony, Tacticnok met with her four master advisors. Three of them, Pickcit, Roknick, and Tiknock, served her father. The fourth, Jaktook, was elevated by her father to serve her.

  Jaktook was one of only two Jatouche to journey with the Pyrean explorers through the labyrinth of non-alliance gates and confront the Colony, the aggressive and deadly insectoid race.

  Tacticnok chose to hold this critical first audience in the throne room. It seemed an ostentatious move, but she wanted to establish her authority to one particular individual, Roknick, the master strategist. She waited nervously for the staff to notify her that the attendees had assembled. When a staff member gestured toward the throne room entrance, she gathered her courage, assumed a serene pose, and walked to take her place on the Jatouche throne.

  “This is a new day for the Jatouche,” Tacticnok said solemnly, after she and then the attendees were seated. “We have two critical opportunities to pursue,” she continued. “There are no more important goals for us than these.”

  “Your Excellency?” Jaktook queried, partially raising a hand.

  Tacticnok was careful not to show deference to Jaktook, who was becoming more than an advisor to her. There was nothing overt between the couple, but the feelings for each other were mutual.

 

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