Origins

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Origins Page 20

by Mark Henrikson

Hastelloy decided to open the discussion on a light and unassuming note. “I’d offer you something to eat, but I wouldn’t want to impose the tasteless mush they serve common slaves on you.”

  “Thank you for that, it would not have been a pleasant experience” she said and then proceeded to silently evaluate her host. She was obviously trying to read something from his poker face which was now as vague as a blank marble slate. “I suppose that’s why someone killed a food server just around the corner last night. It seems we have a food critic in our midst.”

  “It looks like someone definitely objected to the man’s behavior,” Hastelloy said while fighting back the urge to crack a smile at Mosa taking the bait. “I heard it happened in the shadows behind a tent. One has to ask what a food server was doing back there.”

  “Not if you’ve paid attention to those shadows for a while,” Mosa added.

  There was no doubt she received his cryptic message; she knew Hastelloy committed the murder. Now that she was confident he was on her side, it was time to yank away his allegiance to her cause and begin the spiral into a state of desperation. Rather than offering his services, he needed her to ask, or better yet, beg for his further participation.

  “There were a lot of extra guards there tonight for the dinner distribution,” Hastelloy continued. “It looks like there are no more unwatched shadows to worry about. Whatever the food server was doing back there will not happen again.”

  Mosa allowed a few wrinkles of frustration to cross her forehead. “One shadow was eradicated, but there are countless others. Even that particular dark place will return given enough time.”

  “The way I see it, two things will prevent that from happening,” Hastelloy instructed. “First, the guards know what can happen to them now. Second, the slaves feel empowered to defend themselves. Problem solved; you’re welcome.”

  Hastelloy glanced over to his crewmen just in time to see Gallono bring his right hand to his chin to stroke his long dark beard, realizing his captain was responsible for killing the guard the prior evening. No doubt he was busy searching his mind for the reason Hastelloy did it; trying to find the strategic angle. Hastelloy’s attention snapped back to Mosa as she spoke with a forceful tone.

  “Let’s assume the back alley rapes have stopped. They will start up again and this time they’ll be carried out in the wide open with protective guards looking on. Mark my words; it will be worse than ever unless a permanent solution is enacted.”

  Mosa paused to get her emotions under control again, “As long as one person has absolute power over another, the problem will never be solved. This slavery must end; I demand you help me do it.”

  Hastelloy sat staring at Mosa for a few seconds. He was trying to decide if the timing was right to bring down the hammer. No, not yet, he concluded. She needed to be completely broken first. To accomplish this, he enlisted some assistance from Gallono.

  Hastelloy knew Gallono’s sarcastic nature would not let him down. With a quick look and a nod, Gallono got the message and piped up. “Well, why didn’t you say so, your majesty? Give me a few minutes while I walk down and have a private heart to heart with Pharaoh. We’re old friends, after all, so I’ll be escorted right in. After a few words I’m sure he’ll see things my way and let everyone go, no questions asked.”

  Mosa’s cool composure suddenly developed multiple cracks. “I need you to help me do this so I can bring honor to my sister’s memory.”

  “What does your sister have to do with anything?” Gallono challenged.

  “She has everything to do with it,” Mosa shouted. “Last week two guards cornered her outside the palace grounds. They mistook her for a common slave and assaulted her. She was too proud to submit to such a violation. She fought back.”

  “So they hit her,” Mosa sobbed. “They hit her and they hit her, and they kept on hitting her until nothing but an unrecognizable carcass remained.”

  The glue holding Mosa together clearly came apart, “I found the body and didn’t even recognize her face. It was the tattoo on her shoulder that let me know my sister was dead. She was raped and beaten in a dark alley by thugs who thought it was their right.”

  Mosa’s shoulders heaved up and down, and tears were dripping from the tip of her nose as she continued. “Pharaoh promised action, but nothing has changed. He is dead to me now.”

  “I will cause the change,” Mosa screamed through her tears and anger even though she had no idea how to achieve the freedom she so desperately desired. The sudden realization of her hopeless situation crushed her spirit to dust.

  Mosa momentarily recovered from her breakdown to look up. “This slavery must end, that is the only adequate resolution for me. I demand you help me make it happen or I’ll reveal your betrayal to Pharaoh.”

  Hastelloy looked into her eyes and saw nothing but a broken spirit. The message her eyes conveyed was clear. Resorting to such a threat was her final play. It was a very weak and toothless threat and they both knew it. With that realization, Mosa buried her chin in her chest and continued crying softly.

  “Gallono raises a valid issue. Pharaoh won’t easily let go of his slaves,” Hastelloy said with a compassionate tone. “Forcing his hand will require great hardship to be inflicted on your people. If I agree to help you down this path, will you have the strength and conviction to see it through to the end, no matter the cost?”

  Hastelloy could visibly see the hope return to Mosa’s body as the convulsions stopped and her posture straightened to bring her, once again, to a dignified stature. She wiped away the tears on her cheek as she replied, “You have my word of honor that I will do whatever is asked of me on the quest to free everyone in this camp from their bondage.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Hastelloy admonished. Following an affirmative nod from Mosa, he continued. “Meet us in this tent tomorrow during the midday break. At that time you and Tonwen will follow Gallono’s suggestion and seek an audience with Pharaoh. You’ll demand freedom for the slaves or his kingdom will face the wrath of your god, who is far greater and wiser than his.”

  Mosa shook her head from side to side. “He’ll simply laugh at me and assume it’s a game for his amusement.”

  “The laughter will stop when the god’s power is displayed for all to see,” Hastelloy assured her. “Once this happens, you’ll leave his presence and wait for further instructions.”

  “I don’t understand,” Mosa protested. “What sign? Where will it come from? How will I know it’s the sign?”

  “Enough,” Hastelloy interrupted. “Your understanding isn’t required. Either I have your unquestioned obedience on this, or the endeavor dies here and now. Your choice.”

  Mosa’s eyes narrowed as she straightened her back and shoulders to present a reply backed with conviction. “I will follow your instructions without question.”

  “Very well, Tonwen will see you tomorrow then,” Hastelloy ordered in a tone that allowed no room for further discussion.

  Without a word, Mosa rose to her feet, smoothly paced back to the tent entrance and melted away into the darkness beyond.

  Gallono stepped in front of the tent door to interrupt Hastelloy’s stare. He then bent down at the knees and turned his head with an inquiring look. “Clearly your walk last night was more eventful than you let on.”

  The damage of revealing his actions last night needed to be addressed. To that end, Hastelloy let out a soft chuckle, presumably regarding his first officer’s odd posture, and lazily gestured for the others to rejoin him at the table. In reality, his light-hearted laugh was a ploy to show he was confident enough in his actions to be playful.

  “Pawns sometimes need to be sacrificed to open an opportunity for the queen to do her work,” Hastelloy responded. “Besides, the bastard had it coming.”

  “That’s the angle,” Gallono blurted as if he had just solved a riddle that nagged him for days. “You killed the guard for doing something naughty behind the tent that Mosa didn’t like. That
gained her favor so you could move on to enlisting her help.”

  Gallono paused in his praise as the other crewmen sat down. “Did I mention how much I like this plan? The only weakness I see is relying on Mosa playing her part. Are you sure she’s even on our side? Do you think we can trust her to deliver the message on cue?”

  “The only thing I’m certain of at this point is that we’ll know the answer to your question midday tomorrow,” Hastelloy said off-handedly. Then he looked over at Tonwen with concern. “If she does betray us, you’ll be the first to suffer the consequences. Under no circumstances are you to be taken alive. In that event, once the regeneration chamber brings you back on the island, start building another boat to come ashore.”

  Tonwen showed what a true professional he was by not even batting an eye at Hastelloy’s description of the danger he faced. He accepted the perils and moved on to giving his final assessment of the plan. “Organized religion will be the next social development for these people, so I see no real cultural contamination dangers with this course of action.”

  The science officer then cracked a rare smile, dripping of gallows humor. “The danger to me is another matter. I am not fond of playing the role of a sacrificial pawn. Did I mention how much I dislike this plan?”

  Hastelloy gave Tonwen a reassuring pat on the back, and then looked over at Valnor. “You’ve been awfully quiet, ensign, do you have any thoughts?”

  “All these chess references put me in the mood to play the game again. Do you think it would be all right if I made a set? Even if these people see us playing, there’d be no real harm done right?” Valnor asked.

  “No harm at all,” Hastelloy agreed. “And I’d love the opportunity to show you a few things about strategy in the game.”

  “Oh, I don’t need a board game for that, sir. I must say, you may not be this god’s emissary, but when it comes to strategy and manipulation you are a god among men,” Valnor said with reverence.

  Hastelloy let out a labored sigh. To the others it looked like he was brushing aside the hero worship, but deep down he knew it was a sigh of relief that his weakness of rash action was now transformed into a strength. That was the true mastery of the evening’s discussion.

  Chapter 30: Royal Rumble

  Hastelloy released a loud grunt as he pushed one of ten spokes connected to a large wheel. The turning wheel drove an elaborate gearing system attached to ropes. The ropes in turn pulled a gigantic stone obelisk along a row of logs.

  Hastelloy looked to his right and saw Gallono and Valnor pushing with all their might against the same spoke. In all, thirty men were required to drive the wheel around. Slowly but surely the crew was getting the job done. The stone spire was almost in position.

  The top of the pyramid narrowed to the point that only three of the original five log roads were able to fit and haul stones to the top. Tomal was not one to waste resources so he redeployed the decommissioned roads to his newest engineering initiative.

  Four enormous stone spires measuring three hundred and fifty feet tall were cut from single pieces of limestone. The grand plan was to place one obelisk at each corner of the pyramid. Hastelloy couldn’t fathom how Tomal planned to raise the towering fixtures into place from their horizontal positions. He was no master of engineering, but even Hastelloy could see that simply attaching ropes to the obelisk and pulling wouldn’t work. It would put too much strain on the tall, thin structures and snap them in half like twigs.

  “These obelisk’s weren’t a part of the original pyramid construction plans. Why do you think Tomal’s going to all this effort?” Valnor asked.

  “Mosa told me he needed to present Pharaoh with something special to get back into his good graces after his friends turned out to be such trouble makers,” Gallono answered with a huff.

  “What, whipping the captain into the ground wasn’t enough?”

  “Apparently not,” Gallono replied. “She said designing these things and planning to bring them upright has consumed Tomal’s every thought and action for weeks now. He’s obsessed with it.”

  “He does have a lot riding on staying on favorable terms with Pharaoh,” Valnor suggested. “Otherwise he’d be back slumming with the rest of us.”

  “He has a lot more than his lavish life style at risk,” Gallono grunted. “He knows his overseer status is the only thing keeping me from tearing him apart.”

  “Enough, gentlemen,” Hastelloy ordered. “Regardless of his motives, the raising of this thing should be a sight to see. The morbidly curious child in me can’t wait to see how it gets done.”

  The work foreman signaled for the wheel turning crews to stop. Grateful for the rest, Hastelloy turned around to survey the site. The obelisk still lay on its side, but it sat on top of what looked like a one hundred foot high sand dune being contained along one side by a stone wall. At the base of the wall was a wooden plug that kept the sand from rushing out of the hole. Hastelloy knew from prior observations that buried within the dune was a giant stone funnel that narrowed from top to bottom to a specific point. The obelisk was pulled until its base was perfectly aligned with a predetermined mark Tomal set in the sand.

  Hastelloy shook his head as he watched four sets of ropes get attached to the stone spire’s peak. “Can’t that fool see pulling on those lines is just going to break the obelisk in half?”

  “Oh please let it break,” Gallono stated with revenge burning up every syllable.

  Hastelloy took his attention away from the spectacle and looked at the sun to judge the time of day. In another hour it would be show time for Tonwen and Mosa. He hoped the raising of the stone spire would move along quickly so it didn’t interrupt their meeting with Pharaoh. Sensing Gallono suddenly grow tense, Hastelloy looked back down at the obelisk and instantly spotted the cause.

  Tomal finally appeared on the job site and casually strutted over to the base of the sand dune. Hastelloy was surprisingly at ease considering this was first time he’d seen the man who brutally beat him since the incident. Gallono was another story.

  Hastelloy looked over to find his first officer surveying the guards standing nearby. Gallono was sizing up if he could reach Tomal before too many of the guards could intervene. A dejected look eventually came to his face. Gallono was very good in combat, but he also knew his limits and taking on fifty guards at one time was beyond even his formidable skills.

  “Patience, you’ll get your chance,” Hastelloy assured him. “For now let’s just enjoy the show.”

  A great deal of commotion came from the far side of the sand dune. Pharaoh, along with his entourage, showed up to view the raising of the spire. Looking as magnanimous as possible, Pharaoh gestured with his arm for Tomal to begin the lift for Pharaoh’s amusement.

  Without further ado Tomal, along with ten other workers, took primitive sledgehammers and knocked the large wooden plug loose from the wall. Instantly a powerful stream of sand came bursting through the hole.

  Tomal and the other hammer bearers quickly stepped back as hundreds of slaves moved in with wide straw brooms to sweep the escaping sand away so the flow from the hole could continue.

  Five uneventful minutes passed while the sand steadily drained away before Hastelloy noticed movement from the obelisk. The base of the stone spire was descending into a hole forming at the top of the sand dune. Like an hourglass turned upside-down, the sand was draining from the middle first and pulling the base of the obelisk down with it.

  As time went by, the base sank lower into the funnel as the sand level declined. After only thirty minutes, a thunderous boom sounded throughout the job site when the base of the obelisk made contact with solid ground. The massive spire was not yet vertical, but soon it was brought perfectly upright with a few gentle tugs on the four ropes attached at the top.

  A resounding roar of applause and cheers came from the workers and guards alike. Even Pharaoh inclined his head slightly to convey his approval toward Tomal. Clearly, Hastelloy was not alone in his be
lief that lifting a stone spire that tall and heavy to a vertical position was simply not possible. Tomal’s stature with the ruling class was safe once more.

  “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I would never believe it,” Valnor said softly. “He is definitely a master at his craft.”

  “Good for him,” Hastelloy stated briskly and with great sarcasm. He then raised his arm to point out Mosa and Tonwen approaching Pharaoh. “Now it’s time to display the mastery of my craft.”

  With their task of turning the wheel now complete, the three men moved closer toward Pharaoh for what Hastelloy trusted to be an earth moving performance. As they drew closer, Mosa’s voice became clear.

  “Great Pharaoh, I bring a message from god,” Mosa stated firmly in the Sigma language.

  Pharaoh bore a genuinely puzzled look upon his face. “I am at Anubis’ service of course but why would he send you, a woman, to deliver his message. Discussions with such a weak and feeble underling are beneath him.”

  Mosa straightened her back and raised her chin to present a confident posture. With a booming voice she delivered her reply. “I carry a message from my God - the God. Not those oversized jackals you worship.”

  Any individuals in the vicinity not paying attention to the very public conversation between royals now gave it their undivided attention.

  Pharaoh looked stunned, unsure if he heard Mosa’s words properly. He quickly found his dignified composure again and smiled broadly. “Mosa, I usually enjoy your games, but playing at the expense of heresy will not be permitted. Not in my presence. You are of my blood so I will forgive your poor judgment – this time. If you deliver an apology to me, here and now, for mocking the gods you may be on your way.”

  Pharaoh spread his feet shoulder width apart, folded his arms across his chest and waited for the required display of repentance; one that would never come.

  Mosa took half a step forward and yelled for all to hear. “The message from my God is simple. Free the slaves or you will suffer his wrath. I implore you brother, heed this message for it comes from a being of immense power and infinite wisdom.”

 

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