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MILDRATAWA

Page 13

by Nigel Clayton


  “I understand why you mentioned planet Zudomm. Their beliefs are at one with your own. I understand why your work is so important and you surely understand that you will have to leave sooner rather than later. Your work may be incomplete, I do not know, but retire you must.”

  A hand was raised. “I cannot see that which surrounds the Scrolls. I don’t know whether they’ll be deciphered in time. If I could contemplate the Scrolls through meditation then there would be no need to work on them as we do. We will, however, remain for as long as possible. Please, speak.”

  “Brother Anthony must travel with me to the other side of the earth. He is our only hope in order that we may penetrate the great sphere that threatens Earth. Yes, you also understand that Earth will still meet its end, even if the attack is successful, but justice must be met and more agony and terror prevented.” But Doug knew that such devastation could not be avoided; the destruction of the earth was inevitable.

  “I’m getting old, Mr McIlwraith. My eyes no longer see and my ears no longer hear, I can barely feel the presence of the burning candles which surround us.” More silence fell over the room. Long thoughts were endured.

  ‘What can he be thinking?’ Doug looked into the deep black eyes and saw that they wondered from side to side, ever so slightly. His hand shook even more so.

  He was blinded in both eyes.

  The Master looked around the room, seeing nothing. “It displeases me to know that I shall never see these walls again.” He now shot a glance that burnt Doug’s stare away and back to the step, the worn carpet, nowhere as old and worn looking as the Master himself. “Not one of the brothers is aware of that which I am aware. They will surely be saddened. My time has come; and before morning I will be dead.”

  Doug looked up, mouth gaping slightly. Not a confession of guilt or wrong doing, but a submission to allow death its gift of flesh. ‘He joins with the death and destruction of the Scrolls and the earth.’

  “I’ll not have to face that which you will have to face. Refrain from telling my monks what I have just divulged to you. I make a request. Do not force any man to do that which he fears or has no interest. Do not force Brother Anthony to do what he does not wish to submit to. Do not tell anyone what I have told you today. Go now and leave me. You will be guests of ours until my funeral tomorrow. Go.”

  Doug departed with all of the respect he could muster and said nothing to anyone. He would wait till morning before he tried to persuade Brother Anthony to help him in the Mildratawa’s cause.

  The Master relaxed; his body went limp, his 165-year-old temple of flesh had reached its mortal tether. He was dead, but his soul would remain attached, until morning.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  PLANET ALZA NINGH.

  ALMAGORT SPACEPORT.

  The spaceship Atlantic sat on a platform to the spaceport Almagort. The air around Bob Neil smelt sweet and swept in thin strikes across his face as he moved towards the awaiting presidential hovercar that rest on the tarmac of Alza Ningh’s number one spaceport.

  Ozrammoz Abachazdom’s right hand man – Alrim Motap – extended his greeting and a smile. Bob’s neck nearly gave as he bent it back, looking up at the eight-foot giant. “It pleases me to meet with you, Mr Neil. My President and close friend Ozrammoz speaks highly of you. It’s certainly a shame that our efforts on Basbi Triad have to be met with such devastating effects. Please.” They shuffled into the hovercar which reminded Bob so much of an old style Rolls Royce, of which he’d seen many photos.

  “This is a marvellous vehicle you have.”

  “A privilege of being a planet representative, Mr Neil.” The high roof dwarfed Bob to embarrassment. Alrim opened a panel to their front, once seated. “Some caviar and a glass of champagne perhaps? A delicacy from your home planet which I hate to boast was spared no limit in regards to expense.”

  “No, thank you. Perhaps some water.”

  “As you wish.” A glass was poured from a small bottle as the vehicle lifted and steadily sped off through the main gate of Almagort. The eighteen-foot long vehicle was decorated superbly. The chauffeur’s compartment was separated from the passenger’s compartment by way of a sliding glass screen, and the rear seating was arranged so that five large men could sit comfortably whilst facing each other in a means to save time and ploy political views between meetings. A drinks console sat central and closest to the glass panel, holding a varied mass of liquors and refreshments.

  Four other hovercars escorted – two in front and two to the rear. Each was as elegant as the other, but smaller in comparison to the main vehicle.

  The surrounding countryside reminded Bob of pictures he’d seen of Hawaii, a long gone paradise and victim of the Third World War.

  “Ozrammoz is very eager to talk with you and keen to help in the best way possible. I take it that you had a pleasant trip?”

  The change of subject baffled Bob for a short second. “Yes; and I hope that your planet can help accordingly.”

  “That’s for our President to decide. You have yet to prove what you have sent via your transmissions, those in particular that we have received over the past few days. I hope the code you used was a secure one; I have little updates on such matters as to which codes are still secret and those that may be known to the galaxy as a whole.”

  “The Vertons, El Pasadora, nor those of Basbi triad, have the code.” Bob looked over and up to the large head and shoulders. “It’s the only code capable of eluding all three, but still complying with your own. I’m surprised your security forces didn’t inform you of this.”

  “You can never be too careful; and besides, what real need is there for my security forces to inform me of what code was used unless I of course asked, and to which I did not? Similar to the fact that I wouldn’t be told of a new political members resume unless I asked to see it. Isn’t it wondrous how we trust in each other? Of all of the codes amongst the planets, we can still communicate, in our own belief, with anyone we choose, but without – how do you say – letting your pants down to anyone in particular?”

  “Indeed.” Bob lifted the water to his lips and drank heavily. “I’m sure the rifles I have in my possession will satisfy Ozrammoz to the point where an agreement can be met and cooperation justly carried out.”

  “Yes. Let’s hope so, Mr Neil; let’s hope so indeed.” The journey took a little under 30 minutes, in which time the surrounding countryside hadn’t changed. Beings seemed to go about their business just as the Human population of Earth went about theirs.

  Everything was well proportioned and it wasn’t until Bob removed himself from the hovercar and sat at the dining table in Ozrammoz’ palace, that the mere size of things finally hit home. Not one person was seen to be less than 7.5 feet tall. The tallest was estimated at nine. All were large in size, bodies well proportioned.

  The meal with the parliamentarians and their wives went well, and even the females were towering – but petite – in comparison to their mates. Little political views were shared during the course of the meal, apart from the idle gossip on planet likenesses. The only real measure of difference was that of the thin air on their planet of low gravity, which was part contributor and cause for the beings of the planet being so large. It wasn’t surprising that Bob took all movements slowly, even eating. He’d found that breathing was difficult since he’d landed, and a medical bag stood close by in case any fatal difficulties should arise. No comment was made on this difficulty, as all were aware that Bob was embarrassed enough, in particular by his blood nose that ran like a faucet for several minutes during the course of the main meal.

  Other cultures were dwelt upon. Basbi Triad became a focal point and was found to be very interesting by the wives, especially with concern to the planets two types of surface conditioning, one being as extreme as the other. The Vertons were also mentioned, but no political statement made. Religion was an obvious unspeakable subject and the slightest mention of such may have brought an early end to the meal, al
though philosophical beliefs and views were touched upon lightly.

  At the conclusion of the meal the wives were elegantly ushered into another room and the business side of matters took stage.

  Bob Neil’s evidence and assorted files allowed for a quick orientation. After two and one-half hours of deliberation and negotiation it was decided that Alza Ningh should put to training its armed forces in the field of planet hostilities. All warfare had its own specifications and the Alza Ninghs needed all the training they could receive in such a short span of time.

  Their size in body, force, and weaponry, was certainly up to par with other races, but their knowledge of interplanetary war, space tactics, and other planet strategies, were never touched upon.

  Two hundred thousand men would prepare themselves for war as of tomorrow, seven days after the attack on the House of Suudeem. Cargo ships would also go under the welding iron for a facelift, to transform them into attack craft capable of twice their normal – cargo – parsec speed.

  The verbal agreement had been put into effect and was now scribed on paper.

  PLANET EARTH.

  TIBET.

  By early morning the blizzard had lifted and the Scroll Master’s body lay stiff on its open coffin of inter-twined sticks that in turn was supported on a steady platform of pine stilts. The fire beneath sparked into life as Anthony set the kindling into flame from the burning torch that he held. The small flames leapt into action, setting off a contrast of beautiful colours against the rising sun.

  The cremation lasted two hours and the monks prayed openly their meditative thoughts as a light breeze picked up and came out from the east, stinging at their unprotected faces, though little discomfort, if any, was shown.

  Doug’s ten men stood in two ranks, with himself positioned to the front. They said nothing as ashes dropped and smoke rose. One of the men fell exhausted to the carpet of snow, the heat of the fire giving no relief to the indifferent torturing cold; two others carried him away.

  At the completion of the ceremony a group of six monks approached the ashes and ceremoniously shovelled all remains into a large golden pot, after which it was carried to its resting-place under the stone tiles of the library floor. This was marked only by the date of death and the Master’s name. Unknown to the other monks his soul was immediately reincarnated, somewhere on the planet Siest of Quadrant Six. The remainder of the morning was spent in prayer and lunch was given to fasting.

  Four o’clock soon arrived and Doug was called into the Scroll Master’s chamber where Brother Anthony now sat in contemplation and in authority over the other Tibetan monks.

  Doug approached the monk, as he would have done the Master before him, his audience being granted. It took strength and compassion to explain to Brother Anthony the concept of all that had, and would, occur.

  The monk could only nod in appreciation to what Doug was saying, whether he agreed with it or not. It was understood that the monks would have to abandon their home and place of worship forever. Time seemed so short.

  The entire plan was divulged so that nothing was left out. It was now Brother Anthony’s turn to speak. “My appointed task does seem so very important, and it would appear only attainable from I. For the reasons you have spoken, and for all humanity, I will surrender myself to your scheme. I certainly hope that I can attain the power within myself to forgive my actions at a later date.” He paused. “I shall also have all monks of the monastery surrender their obligations to the Scrolls and encourage them to take flight to the planet Zudomm where they may put on the Fio-nop and expand into a different philosophical and religious plain as that of Yambi Zudommi’s planet. I’m sure our cultures will mix and prosper. I also know that they’ll be given free permission to continue with their ways that have led them through so many centuries of inner peace.

  “I, however, cannot surrender myself to the agony of self-pity, space travel, nor openly blaspheme my planet’s Scrolls of Prehistory. I do all that you ask under the proviso that I remain in the monastery until my task has been completed, to work on the Scrolls in my own time, taking up where the other monks would have left off. My brothers are not to know of my impertinence. If this is not permitted me then you receive nothing; call it greed if you will. The Scrolls, as you can understand from its sheer size in collection, can never be removed from these walls. The atmosphere is what binds them. To remove them could be catastrophic, as well as immoral.

  “If you have nothing further for me, then I would relish some time to myself with this most regrettable of news.” Doug remained silent and listened to Anthony’s last words. “I will meet with you tomorrow for our journey; good afternoon.”

  Doug paced backwards graciously and removed himself from the chamber. So much burden, so much pain, so many regrettable facts.

  He closed the great oak doors behind himself.

  QEM-GATE FORK.

  ZULU 1-ESTO 1.

  The battle cruiser Cyclops came out of parsec on the border between quadrants three and one. It was the seventh day since the galaxy had accepted the knowledge of the Nicaraguan sphere as being fact, and no sooner had the four soul survivors from Lake Nicaragua returned and their country had sent them out on another mission.

  Each of the special force soldiers now had a similar mission to that of their World War Three counterparts: To enter deep into possible hostile territory and befriend into recruitment the swelling tribes of Quadrant Three.

  Four planets of concern existed; one of which was planet Equatia. The marines were to penetrate and befriend the mercenary agitated tribes before the Vertons could persuade them into joining their very own ranks: Recruitment for the much-needed reinforcement of man power; something that both sides wanted to secure.

  Equatia itself was not likely to give easily to the pressures of the Vertons, but their control over the other planets was an important link for recruitment. John Younge was to head a company of one hundred men to help stabilise the opinions of the King and Queen (of Equatia) amongst their followers, to support the King’s very words, in order that the buying of mercenary forces by Verton could be prevented.

  Julius Moda, Brad Smith and Nakatumi Jassat were to infiltrate the planets Stia, Equotor and Nougstia respectively. Each had a platoon of twenty under their direct command, though no jewels or money for bargaining power existed.

  It was also understood at this point in time that the reason that the planet Irshstup was of no consequence was due to several rationales. Irshstuptians were a serious people and in galactic peace with Basbi Triad. Although the news of such war on Basbi was kept from them, as it was from the rest of the galaxy, they could still not bring themselves to interfere.

  The Irshstuptian structured society also held an enforced law: Foreboding intergalactic police, robots that could bring the ultimate destruction to any form which dared to penetrate the borders of the planet without prior approval from its leader, Mialdi Somcari. These robots ruled the skies and land by day and night, and were developed in such a manner as to maintain all law and order, as well as the imposed curfew.

  Immediate disintegration was the only punishment for breaking such a curfew. It also stood to reason that Irshstup lay inside the boundaries of Quadrant Two, and to penetrate into this sector was not yet within the plans of the Mildratawa. Such a move could favour the Vertons; unless it was carried out in force from other directions in space, from Equatia and Zirclon, with the aid of as many quadrants as possible – an alliance so large in force that defeat would be out of the question.

  John studied the monitor to his front as his three friends departed with their platoons aboard the shuttles from the safety of the Cyclops. Their destination was that of the jungles on the planets’ surfaces two to three light years away. John’s fleet of five ships now took their turn to depart the bays, bridging a distance of eight kilometres in less than thirty seconds, soon arriving at the entrance of another QEM-gate within the fork.

  It was now that the Cyclops disappeared fr
om the monitor in front of John as it streaked into parsec, back to Zirclon and ultimately Earth. John spoke into the microphone: “All spectre craft prepare for run into parsec twenty by point four; by computer, all acknowledge.”

  All spectres came back in numerical order. A few more kilometres were now covered at the snail’s pace before the computers took over for the jump into parsec along each of the projected QEM-gates. A few hours of flight time would see them within distance of their destinations, ready for the final trip through the outer atmosphere and to the planets’ surfaces for their mission parameters to be undertaken and met. In all reality however, and in recognition to ‘real’ time, the flight would be considered instantaneous; that was to say, after a flight of two hours through QEM-gate, their timepieces would have to be re-calibrated – put back two hours.

  PLANET BASBI TRIAD.

  ZANE DESERT.

  Jools de Cane entered the atmosphere of Basbi Triad on the only covert mission for the Mildratawa’s move towards peace. His small one-man craft was capable of passing through any radar in the vicinity without detection.

  His rendezvous with Muutampai, one hundred kilometres west of the ionised House of Suudeem, was a success and the deliverance of the present situation handed over. “That’s all I have for you, sir. As you can see, it’s going to take several weeks before the Mildratawa is ready with a strike force large enough to secure a blow against the Verton’s unprecedented attack and the Darkside’s penetration over the Twilight. I know the situation doesn’t look good, but the ball is rolling. So long as we can contain El Pasadora we should be on the road to success earlier than anticipated.”

 

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