Sci-Fi Fantasy Collection (A Citizen Tale Books 1 & 2)

by S. K. Holder

  ‘I believe I said we were bound for the same place,’ said Osaphar with a thin smile. ‘I cannot travel with you to Narrigh today. But I’m sure our paths will cross in Narrigh at some point in time.’

  Skelos gave a weighty sigh. The guard escorted him up the boarding ramp. There was no need to panic. He would meet Osaphar at a later date. He would cordially invite him for dinner when he had settled into this new home. All was not lost. Osaphar had smiled at him. And he didn’t smile often. He wants to renew our friendship. It was impossible with the Establishment in the way. It wouldn’t help Osaphar’s status to be associated with a failed scientist and the former wife of a member of the Parliamentary Elite.

  He was slightly discomfited by the fact that Osaphar hadn’t introduced him to the ship’s captain, and he was forced to walk the ship in search of him. He eventually found a sphere droid to direct him to the cockpit. The droid bobbed and floated along, guiding him through the ship’s galley. It took him past a teleportation platform, hidden structures encased in metal, and then through the cockpit entryway.

  The crew did not turn around when he entered. They remained at their workstations. Skelos had to clear his throat to garner the captain’s attention. It was likely that the captain knew he was there.

  ‘Dr Skelos!’ he said, extending an arm and striding to meet him, all legs and teeth. He had a boyish face and fine hair. His short torso was clad in light armour. He wore his captain’s badge on his lapel: a myriad of flat cubes. He had a row of metallic crests down his right arm. ‘Welcome, Captain Badone at your service. Magnificent, isn’t it?’

  Skelos wondered what was so magnificent. They hadn’t gone anywhere yet. ‘How long will it take to reach Narrigh?’

  ‘Not long,’ replied the captain, ‘but the ride can get bumpy. ‘It will be smoother if you’re asleep.’

  ‘Not me,’ said Skelos. He wanted to stay awake for the entire journey. Have a good poke about, find out more about this Narrigh and the work expected of him. ‘You could put Amelia to sleep. If she’s not asleep already.’ He looked around but could not see her. ‘It would be a wise decision. She’s easily frightened.’

  The captain nodded. ‘Then it shall be done.’

  The captain sauntered over to the far end of the deck. A large rotating steel globe sat on top of the pedestal. The captain placed his hand on the globe, and the upper part of it lifted away, unveiling an array of bottles and glasses.

  ‘Zaskian or Primnicott?’ he said.

  ‘Zaskian,’ said Skelos.

  The captain poured a clear liquid from one of the bottles into a tall glass. He then poured, for himself, a glass of the amber-coloured liquid.

  Leaving the globe ajar, he brought over the two drinks.

  This was more like it. Osaphar has seen to it that he would be well treated, that there would be no humiliation to be had with exile. If indeed, that’s what it was. Skelos wondered now if his deportation was only temporary. Once he had perfected his work, he expected that Odisiris would want him back. But would he go back? If he found Narrigh to his liking, he would of course stay, and Odisiris would be nothing but another holiday destination.

  Skelos took the glass of Zaskian from the captain. ‘This isn’t what I was expecting.’

  ‘What were you expecting − exactly?’ said the captain. ‘Did you expect us to lock you away, humiliate you in front of your niece, tie you up, and knock you out. You’re a First Status Citizen doctor, and you will be treated as such.’ The Captain chinked Skelos’s glass with his own, and together they drained their glasses.

  Zaskian was a dry and potent brew. Skelos had not drank it in a while and was overcome by a sudden light-headiness. The captain’s face became a blur, the ship’s windows a shadow.

  He needed to sit down. He hobbled over to the railings. The glass slipped from his hand, smashing to the floor; he joined it two seconds later.

  CHAPTER 10

  Skelos woke on a wooden bench. In Odisiris, wood was an uncommon material for interior furnishing. For one preposterous moment, he thought he was in a garden. Except, he felt no fresh air above his head. The smell of fresh leaves did not waft up his nose. But he did note an odd, almost unidentifiable, smell. He sniffed under one of his armpits to ensure the smell did not come from him. It had been a while since he had bathed. He found himself surrounded by rugged stone walls and a pitted stone ceiling. There was an arched and worn door set in the wall opposite him.

  Very strange.

  He massaged his temples. He must have drunk too much Zaskian. There was a jug of water and a small glass set on a table beside the bench. Thank the Palm-of-his-Maker; he was parched.

  He drank directly from the jug and wiped his mouth. At one end of the room was an open arched doorway. The room had the odd spattering of furniture: a high table, a chair, a closet, and a chest of drawers. All made of wood. Is that what he could smell: bark? He was unimpressed by the room and the poor hospitality.

  He would make a complaint about his treatment when he was more settled. If this was Narrigh, where was the welcoming committee? Where was his laboratory and his new abode? Surely this can’t be it. And furthermore, where was Amelia?

  He went to the door. He then jostled the wrought iron knocker appended to it. The confounded thing didn’t work. He walked the palm of his hand mid-way up the wall in search of a biometric panel. He stepped back, perplexed.

  He shouted in his loudest voice for attention. Finally, the door was answered by a woman with a straight nose and sharp eyes. She wore a crumpled beige gown with a collar embroidered with gold thread. She had large rings on the fingers of both her hands. She slammed the door shut behind her.

  Shocked by the vulgarity of her attire and the way in which she sauntered right up to him, inches from his face, without standing at the door waiting to be summoned, without humility or qualm, Skelos took a while to find his voice. ‘Who-who are you?’

  ‘Halera Proth. And you are Mr Scolos Dim.’

  ‘Doctor Skelos Dorm,’ he snapped. They haven’t even taken the time to get his name right. ‘This is an insult. How dare you lock me up like this. Where is the captain? I wish to speak with him at once. Where is my niece? Why are my−’

  He patted himself down. He had sown his stone in the lining of his garments. It was still there. He felt lighter, which meant the Avu’lore globe was not. He couldn’t feel the Shard. There was no sign of the painting, and the last of his spending credits were gone. Stolen!

  Helara bit her lip. ‘Your possessions are under your bed.’

  ‘Bed? What’s the matter with you? There is no bed in here.’

  Halera pointed to the wooden bench on which he had woken. It had a fat pillow at one end and some fluffy rag that might have been a blanket.

  ‘That is not my bed,’ he hissed through his teeth. He passed her a scathing look before hefting up his robes and getting on his hands and knees. He plunged his arm underneath the bench. His fingers found the Avu’lore globe, but the painting and the Shard were gone. Skelos cranked himself to his feet, his face blue with rage.

  ‘What is the meaning of this? ‘I’m a doctor, a high ranking scientist and a Citizen. First Status. How dare you greet me so indifferently? Get me the captain.’ He had a vague memory of taking a drink from a ship’s captain and nothing thereafter.

  ‘Osaphar said you might be difficult and that it may take you a while to adapt to your new home. Of course, if this room is not to your liking, I can allocate you another one more spacious. I apologise if there has been any misunderstanding.’

  That was more like it. They had some nerve allocating him the servants quarters in the first place. He made a mental note of his complaints thus far. It was bad enough that they hadn’t allowed him to bring a change of clothes, but they had also stolen the spending credits from his robes, the Avu’lore globe, the Shard, and the painting. This was catastrophic. ‘There has been a colossal misunderstanding. See to it that my possessions are returned and my niece is br
ought to me at once.’

  ‘I’m one of the Shardner government councilors, or ministers, if you prefer. You will be working for us. You will take all your orders from us. The Shardner govern all of Narrigh, some regions better than others. Our offices are in the Royal Halls, in the Kingdom of Baruch. You will be expected to abide by Narrigh traditions and embrace the Baruchian culture.’

  ‘Bar-bar…what−’ Are these words actually leaving her lips? He had drunk a lot of water, but found himself choking on his own tongue. He took a great glug of water from the jug, shrugging his shoulders. He then took a deep breath and began again.

  ‘Orders? I have no intention of taking orders from you. What Status are you? What’s the name of your House?’

  ‘Status? I’m not one of your kind. I do not have a mark, Dr Dim.’ She raised both her palms.

  No, there is no Mark, thought Skelos. And then he fainted.

  CHAPTER 11

  Skelos woke up on a soft mattress with a pillow under his head. He sniffed the fabric and smiled. It smelled of fresh air. He lifted his head from the pillow and eased himself to the edge of the stone bed where there sat a low table, set with a thick leather-bound book. He picked it up and sniffed the pages. Paper was a rare commodity in Odisiris, and he hadn’t seen any for a long time. The book had a gold cross on the front of it. He flicked through the pages. From what he could make out, the book was about some ancient god. He had read about other races and their gods when he was a boy. He didn’t find it very interesting. Though people had to believe in something he supposed.

  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, closed his eyes, and pressed the heels of his hands to his temples as he recalled his unfortunate dream, the one where he had woken in a small room and was greeted by an Unmarked One who claimed to be one of those in charge.

  He laughed. ‘How silly.’ What was not silly was how he had not been given quarters befitting of his Status. He would have expected Osaphar to see to it that he had all his home comforts.

  The open arch doorway took him to a washroom with an iron cast bath and a box-shaped contraption. It had a wood-slate cover. Skelos assumed it was a toilet since he saw nothing else in which he could do his business.

  A low square door in the washroom opened on to a stone-carved balcony, pitted from harsh weather. He stumbled to the edge of the balcony. He was way up high. He leaned over the stone railings and vomited. He then drew his arm across his mouth and gazed at the great sweep of blue sky and fat white clouds. Directly below the balcony were lush hills and a footpath snaking into a rich forest.

  Way beyond the forest, he saw a sheer cliff and the white-walled city stretching into the horizon. Its gold and jewelled domes gleamed in the sun’s rays. The city looked beautiful from a distance. He wondered why he was not in it.

  The sound of footsteps drew him back inside. The woman was there again, the woman from his dream. She stood in the washroom in a grey robe, not as crumpled as the last, but hideous nonetheless with its stiff collar and bulbous shoulder pads. Was I dreaming? Could it be? He pressed his hands to his face. He thought he might throw up again.

  ‘You stay away from me,’ he snarled, raising his finger. She blocked his way. He nearly stumbled into the iron-cast bath to evade her touch. He didn’t want so much as a thread on his robe to make contact with hers. He squeezed past her and sought refuge on his stone bed. ‘Where’s the captain? Where’s Osaphar?’

  Helara followed him. ‘Do you like your new quarters?’ She crossed her arms. ‘I know this is a huge adjustment for you, Mr Dim, but you have been exiled. Exiled Citizens hold no rank here. You will be working for the Shardner. We have a specific line of work which we believe suits your field. We will take care of your niece. We’ll let you settle in, and then we shall send for you.’ And with those words she left.

  Skelos curled up on the bed and cried himself to sleep.

  CHAPTER 12

  The next morning Skelos was resolute: he would escape. He hadn’t thought beyond the stone- walled chamber, of how and when he might secure a ship out of Narrigh.

  His first attempt as an escapee was somewhat embarrassing. He scampered to the corner of the ceiling by the door and hung there like a spider waiting for an unsuspecting fly.

  When a servant came in with a tray of hot food, he threw himself down on him, knocking him out. He then hurled himself down the first few steps of a winding staircase. He never saw the end of the staircase that day. He was greeted by a guard with a baton who whacked him hard in the stomach and chopped his hand in the back of his head, knocking him onto the tiles and out cold. When he awoke he found himself back in his stone-walled chamber.

  He usually thought things through before planning an escape strategy. His lack of fortitude surprised him. It was most un-Citizen like. He seemed to spend more time fretting over his woes than planning the perfect escape. He had one failed attempt at an escape in Odisiris. There was no planning there, and now he was faced with another. He had ample time to think up a viable escape strategy.

  In spite of the extra padding of fat around his middle, he could not make himself comfortable on a bed made of stone. He spent most nights awake. The food they served him was plain and the portions small. It would help if he knew where he was and what he would be escaping to. He felt as if he was light years away from the home that rejected him, oh so coldly. He rubbed his hands together and stared around his poor surroundings. He found himself missing Amelia and her incessant questions, her insolence, and the hideous dresses she insisted on wearing. He had always imagined that exiled Citizens were sent to other planets within the galaxy with similar cultures and traditions to their own. Given his Status, he wasn’t expecting this – mistreatment.

  There came a knock on the door. Skelos got used to the knocks. A weak one for the servants, a strong one for the guards, and no knocks for members of the Shardner.

  ‘Yes, filth.’ Despite loathing everyone who walked through the door, he welcomed the interruptions. It broke up the day and lifted his mood. Hurling insults at Unmarked Ones became his guiltless pleasure.

  The servant, a young man with a hunched back and stumpy legs, entered carrying a clean towel over his arm and a jug of water. He placed the water and the towel on the table and left without a word. He never spoke. Only members of the so-called Shardner spoke to him. Skelos guessed the others were instructed not to converse with him, not that he wanted to get into the habit of conversing with Unmarked Ones; he would sooner eat his own tongue. He was thinking he might have to when one of the Shardner came through the door.

  Skelos recognized Shardner members by their attire, which was splendorous compared to the servants. This one had on black trousers, a shirt, and a long cape hanging on his broad shoulders. He wore long brown boots on his feet. He had a frothy grey and white beard and walked with a slight limp. He closed the door behind him and gave a throaty growl.

  ‘Skelos. How are you? Are they treating you well?’ His words were warm, but his eyes were cold and uncaring. He stands by the door as if I and my living quarters are more than he can bear.

  ‘What do you want?’

  The man whipped his cloak behind him. ‘My name is Yerryn Denvor. I’ve been made to understand that you feel you have been duped?’

  ‘Understand from whom?’

  ‘From the Shardner council and the servants.’

  ‘So you have them spying on me as well. This exile is unjust. No one has given me a nuance of respect. I’m being starved to death by your deplorable food. The air smells fowl. I have the right to relocated as per Odisirian law.’ Skelos was a little hazy on the details of the Odisirian law concerning exile, having never been exiled before. In fact, he had never been involved in the Odisirian legal system or politics; he had always relied on Nylthia for that.

  ‘That law was amended under the new vice-chancellor. Unless Narrigh is on the brink of ruin, you cannot request a transfer.’

  ‘And what would you know about it?’ He seized his p
itcher of water and took a long drink, hoping it would take the edge off his hunger.

  ‘I know your people. I’m a Peltarck.’

  Skelos wiped the water from under his chin and set down the empty jug. It wasn’t the first time he had come across a Peltarck. Peltarcks came from the planet Pyridian within the Andromeda galaxy.

  ‘How did you find your way here?’

  ‘I was asked to come here as penance for a crime I committed long ago.’

  ‘And they made you a member of this Shardner government?’

  ‘I obtained this position through hard work. I started as a secretary for Sahara, one of the other council members. She appreciated my skills as an advisory and promoted me.’

  ‘How long did that take?’

  ‘Eleven years. Given time, you too could be placed in a position of trust.’

  Skelos was not about to wait eleven years to attain a high position on a planet ruled by Unmarked Ones. The very thought of it produced a strange cloying sensation in his stomach. ‘You’re Peltarck. I’m Citizen. Perhaps your idea of a position of trust is different from mine. The very fact that there put me on this despicable planet is a testimony to the position of trust the Parliamentary Elite have bestowed on me. They will never trust me. And rightly so; I do not trust them. I expect that being on Narrigh is a life of luxury compared to Pyridian. Why you get to see a real sunrise and sunset every day.’

  The Peltarck smiled. ‘Mock if you will. Narrigh takes some getting used to. One day you may have the chance to invent something new here, and you will be well rewarded for it.’

  ‘But I don’t want to invent something new here for Outsiders to benefit.’

  ‘We are the outsiders here. You must refrain from using that term. It will not be welcome. Unmarked is the correct term for non-Citizens as you and I well know.’