The Arwen Book one: Defender

by Timothy Callahan

  She had to admit, it was an interesting painting. It filled the entire west wall of the lobby and was lit by spotlights mounted on the blue marble floor and a white marble ceiling. It depicted a series of battles as it seemed the same Ulliam appeared in the beginning, the middle, and the end. The Ulliam warrior wore a golden suit of armor, reminiscent of what a Roman general might wear into a battle. The Ulliam admired Earth and its history so much it influenced almost all the art on the planet.

  Fran walked over to observe it closer. Near the middle was a golden plaque that had something written both in Ulliam and in standard. She bent over, everything on Ulliam seemed close to the ground since they were a short race, and read it:

  This commemorates the life and death of our greatest warrior, Merriam. He and he alone defeated the monsters that used to roam the great lands of our planet. He led thousands of our troops into battle to recapture Ulliam City when it was overrun with demons. He became our greatest leader. His laws are the cornerstone of all we believe today. He is the greatest Ulliam.

  “Laying it on a bit thick,” Fran said under her breath.

  “Can I help out?” asked a voice that was at ear level. Fran looked over and right into the eyes of an Ulliam woman. Ulliam stand about four feet tall with leathery, badly wrinkled gray skin. Their shoulders seem too high and their heads too low, making a normal, relaxed position look as if they were in a permanent shrug. Like humans, female Ulliam had mammary glands on their chests so it was the best way to tell a male from a female. Because they had short legs, they had a tendency to wobble when walking.

  “Oh, um, no, that’s okay,” Fran stammered. “I was just admiring this painting.”

  “Oh, yes, thank you. It was a gift to your embassy from our government.”

  “When was it dedicated?”

  “About ten years ago.”

  Fran did a quick calculation in her head. One Ulliam year was about six earth months, give or take a day. “That’s five Earth years.”

  The Ulliam smiled as if Fran had answered a question correctly. “Yes, correct.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Ducket,” she held out her skinny, wrinkled hand. “I’m a liaison between Ambassador Simpson and the Ulliam art culture. He’s very interested in developing the spread of culture on our world.”

  Fran took Ducket’s hand and said, “I’m Doctor Francis Mercury.” A thought passed through her head. Inwardly she smiled. It was too perfect a plan. “I’m here studying your culture for an art project of my own. I was hoping to use your computers to do some research but—” she looked up at the ceiling.

  Ducket looked up as well. With a confused frown, she said, “I’m afraid we can’t afford to put a mural on the ceiling yet.”

  Fran giggled. The Ulliam had no concept of subtle hints. “I meant before that ship arrived. I was hoping to talk to Ambassador Simpson but some military captain was escorted in before me.”

  “I can talk to him if you’d like.”

  “He’s going to be busy and I don’t have much time. Perhaps you can show me to the library. I won’t be more than a few hours getting what I need.”

  “Oh, yes, of course I can.” She waddled around Fran and toward a large door. “Follow me and I’ll take you there.”

  Fran stepped back from the mural and looked it over one more time. Pulling out her portable computer, she took a quick scan of it, saved it, and followed Ducket out of the waiting area.

  ~*~

  Marjorie looked at her old friend sitting across the desk. When she had known him, he was an athletic man with a handsome face and a head full of dark brown hair. His eyes held in them an intense sense of intelligence and passion. It was one of the things she found attractive about him. Even if they could only be friends, she was happy to be able to stand next to such an attractive man.

  The man sitting across from her still had the same intensity but the rest of him had changed. When she first saw him she tried not to gasp at how much weight he had gained or ask what had happened to his hair. She was sure there was still a handsome man behind the double chin and horseshoe-shaped bald spot, but, right now, she had a hard time seeing it.

  “Well Marjorie Sanders. It’s good to see you again.”

  “It’s Captain Marjorie Cook now,” she said with a grin.

  “So, you did marry that oaf Payton.”

  “Now Mason, are you still mad he married me?”

  “You could have done better.” His voice teased but his eyes told a different story. Marjorie knew he wanted to be more than friends. That was a long time ago but old feelings die hard. She hoped it wouldn’t affect them now. “I liked Payton, but he wasn’t for you. How is he doing anyway?”

  “I haven’t talked to him in about two years,” she replied reluctantly. “I read he was promoted last year. That’s the last I’ve heard from him.”

  “Well, it seems I was right then, doesn’t it?”

  That was one of the reasons Marjorie knew it wouldn’t work out between the two of them. He was never one hide his opinion. Especially when he was proven right. “We’re still friends. It was a mutual divorce.”

  She looked over the desk and found several pictures of a little girl, himself, and a beautiful blond woman. She picked one of the pictures up and looked at it. “Your wife?”

  “My wife Maddy and my daughter Jennifer. That picture was taken a while ago; Jennifer will be ten in a few weeks. That’s ten earth years, not Ulliam years. Maddy is a fun mother and a devoted wife.”

  Marjorie placed the picture back. “I’m happy for you and I’m glad to see you found something you’re good at. You never were a very good officer.”

  “That’s true, that’s true. We could talk about our school years all day if we wanted to.”

  “I’d rather not—”

  “We should take a walk,” he interrupted. “This office is so stuffy. I have to call an exterminator every few weeks to help remove all the bugs. They love warm moist air like we have in here.”

  The room didn’t feel too warm or moist; in fact, it felt comfortable. Then, she got it. He always had a strange flair for the dramatic. She recalled the many hours the two of them would sit alone in her dorm watching old Earth movies. He had a large collection of film noir movies. Most of the ones he enjoyed centered on crime and in every one someone bugged an office or phone. The Ulliam wouldn’t know what a bugged office was, but she did. “Once you get an infestation of bugs, it’s hard to get rid of them. Sure, let’s take that walk and talk about the old times.”

  He stood from behind his desk, groaning as he did so, and walked over to Marjorie who was already standing. He held his arm out and said, “Shall we?”

  “Always the charmer.” Marjorie took his arms into hers. She didn’t know how far they would have to walk until he felt secure in speaking freely so she decided to continue talking. “Remember those walks we used to take?”

  “Ah, yes. Those nice, non-romantic ‘Marjorie needs to clear her head and talk to her friend’ walks down the most romantic parts of the campus.”

  Marjorie has forgotten how close she and Mason were back then. There was a time, for about a year, where he was the only person she could rely on. “Freshman year was hard on everyone.”

  “Most people fretted over work. You fretted over men.” He laughed when he said it. “You were always good with the school work. Not so good with the relationships.”

  She squeezed him a bit tighter and said, “We had a pretty good platonic run.”

  He said nothing as he led her out a door onto a balcony. Below was a large garden. Pathways crisscrossed around trees, grass, and row upon row of colorful flowers. He leaned in and whispered into her ear. “That would be a good place for us to talk. Strange things are happening here and I need to get off this planet as quickly as possible.”

  “What about your family?”

  “They live on Earth and are very safe.”

  Marjorie knew not to ask any more questions
until they were in the garden. When they turned, they were confronted by two Ulliam guards, each dressed in full-body armor and carrying a very impressive array of weapons. “We are to escort you to the garden,” one of them said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Mason replied. “I don’t think we’ll be harmed out there.”

  The two guards looked at each other and then stepped aside letting them pass. As they walked, the guards kept in step. “Guess we’re not going to lose them,” Marjorie said.

  “Then we’ll just have to keep our voices low,” Mason replied in a low tone.

  “I’ve got a better idea.” Marjorie pulled out her communicator. “Fran, are you ready to leave yet?”

  There was a few seconds delay before Fran replied. “Um, yes, Professor, I got what I came for. Where should we meet?”

  Professor? she thought. I’ll have to ask her about that. “In the waiting room.” She stopped walking and faced the guards. “I am leaving and I’m taking the ambassador with me. If this place isn’t safe for us to walk around, I will protect him and any Earth diplomats.”

  The two guards looked at each other, their alien faces unreadable. “We cannot allow that. He must stay.”

  “Contact your boss. If he replies before I reach my shuttle, we’ll talk. Otherwise, tell him what I told you. Come on, Ambassador Simpson, we’re leaving.”

  ~*~

  Ducket hovered over Fran as she skimmed through the search results. She dare not stay on a page for too long since she didn’t want this curious little Ulliam to know exactly what she was looking for. So far she found nothing of interest and simply copied all the data about Merriam and the Gyssyc she could find as well as other unrelated data to help keep the illusion up. Ducket looked over her shoulder and said, “You sure are getting a lot of stuff from our computer banks.”

  “I like to be thorough.”

  “I noticed you seem to be concentrating on Merriam and the exile of the Gyssyc.”

  “Yes,” Fran replied, trying to think of a way to justify her interest. “That mural in the lobby fascinated me. I wanted to find out all I could about him.” She turned to face Ducket who was so close she could smell her breath. It smelled like fish and cheese with a hint of wine for some reason. “Can you tell me anything about him?”

  She stepped away, agitated. “No, I can’t. You need to go now. I think you have all you need.”

  “What’s wrong?” Fran asked, unplugging her computer from the terminal.

  “Nothing, just—I’ll lead you back to the lobby where—”

  Fran’s communicator beeped. It was Captain Cook, “Fran, are you ready to leave yet?” She couldn’t have Ducket know she was working for Corps right now. Who knew what would happen.

  “Um, yes, Professor, I got what I came for. Where shall we meet?”

  “In the waiting room.” The communicator cut off.

  “Thank you for your help,” Fran said, walking past Ducket and toward the library door.

  “You’re from the Arwen, aren’t you?” Ducket asked, placing her short arms on her nearly non-existent hips.

  Fran, no longer wanting to lie, sighed. “Yes, I’m sorry I misled you but I needed to get some information to help us figure out what’s going on.”

  Ulliams weren’t known for their intelligences. They weren’t dumb; it just took them a while to understand concepts. Ducket seemed to think the new information over. Fran had the urge to turn and walk away but she needed to know what her Ulliam friend would do.

  “Take me with you,” Ducket said. “I can help.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “If you don’t I’ll alert the authorities of what you were doing.”

  “They won’t do anything to me just for downloading research.”

  “They will if they know you were looking for information on Merriam.”

  “Why?” Fran asked. Her heart began to race as another piece of the puzzle felt like it was about to fall into place. Perhaps Ducket could be a useful source of information. Would the captain let her come?

  “Take me with you and I’ll tell you.”

  Fran grabbed Ducket by the hand and pulled her along. “Okay, you’re coming along for now. It’ll be up to the captain to give the final okay.”

  ~*~

  Captain Cook and Ambassador Simpson briskly walked down the hallway. Every second they were in the building was another second they could be stopped. Marjorie wanted to run but knew Mason would never be able to keep up with her so she walked as fast as she could with her heavy friend in tow.

  They made it to the lobby just as Fran and a small Ulliam woman entered. For a second Captain Cook thought perhaps they had stopped Fran and she would have to either talk or fight her way out of the embassy.

  “Captain, this is Ducket. She wants to help.”

  “Come on,” Marjorie said, not missing a step as the four of them hurried toward the landing platform where the shuttle had landed. “We don’t have time to talk about it. Do you think she can help?”

  “I don’t think she can hurt,” Fran replied. “Not sure how much she can help.”

  “Good enough for me.” Marjorie pulled her communicator out. “Shuttle, this is Captain Cook. Get ready to take off. We’re leaving hot.”

  “Leaving hot?” Mason asked.

  “It means to get ready for a fight.”

  Mason wheezed heavily as they ran up a flight of stairs toward the roof. She wished she had brought her sidearm with her. The feeling of vulnerability ate at her insides.

  As they approached the roof, she heard the distinct sound of energy discharging. “Shuttle, report!”

  “They opened fire on us the second we lowered the landing platform,” her security guard replied. “We were able to get the shields up and we extended them to the door. You should be safe but hurry. Those fighters we saw earlier are heading this way.”

  “What is happening?” the little Ulliam asked.

  “They don’t want us to leave,” Marjorie replied opening the roof’s door. “Shuttle, I have an Ulliam who is coming with us; do not fire at her.”

  Fifty feet in front of her was the shuttle, the air around it distorted like heat vapor rising from a sun baked road. “Are you sure you want to come with us?” Marjorie turned to see Mason sweating through his suit. The Ulliam looking determined and Fran frightened.

  “That question was directed at whom?” Mason panted.

  “Both of you.”

  “Yes,” Ducket said. “Take me please.”

  “I don’t think I could go back if I wanted too,” Mason replied with a grin.

  The back of the shuttle opened and three guards walked out. Beams of energy, fired from a higher place, perhaps another building, were absorbed by the force field in blue and red flashes.

  One of the guards pointed behind her and then raised his rifle and fired. The beam passed between the groups and hit an Ulliam that had appeared from the top of the stairs. Marjorie heard the sounds of others that had joined the chase.

  “Run!” she yelled, grabbing Mason by the hand, pulling him hard, trying to get his massive girth to move faster.

  The two other guards joined the fight by skillfully aiming their shots over or between Marjorie and the others. Their shots hit the soldiers as they appeared in the doorway.

  Fifty feet might as well have been a thousand feet, it seemed so far away. She wasn’t sure Mason was going to make it until a beam of energy, fired from above, exploded in a brilliant green flash above his head. His speed picked up considerably.

  Ducket found her speed and bolted past them as fast as a cheetah. She had never seen an Ulliam run before and was greatly impressed by its swiftness.

  The three ran up the ramp and into the shuttle. The guards fired a few more times before stepping in. “Nice shooting,” Marjorie said. “Get them strapped in. I’m heading to the front.”

  She placed her hand on Mason’s shoulder. He didn’t look good, his face was red from exhaustion an
d he was having a hard time catching his breath. He smiled though and through the panting asked, “Does the Arwen have a gym? I think I might have to start using it.”

  Marjorie laughed. “You just sit tight. We’ll be off this planet in a few minutes.” She ran to the front of the shuttle and sat on the copilot’s seat.

  “Captain, the fighters will be here in minute.”

  “Have you contacted the Arwen?”

  “We’re being jammed.” The pilot pulled back on a lever and the shuttle lifted from the rooftop.

  Several shots hit the shields but did no damage. Leaning forward, she scanned the sky looking for the distinct glint from the Ulliam fighters. She saw them and pointed. Shuttles didn’t fly armed, so they couldn’t fight their way out. However, they were very fast. Their only hope was to try and outrun them.

  Beams of energy from the fighters slammed into the shields and caused it to rock. Marjorie gritted her teeth as she looked at the shield readouts. “A few more blasts like that and we’ll be forced to land.”

  Missiles from the bottom of the fighters’ streaked toward the shuttle. The pilot banked the shuttle to the right as hard as he could. The force crushed Marjorie in her seat. She heard the Ulliam let out a fearful yelp.

  “I don’t think they’re trying to get us to land,” the pilot said as he sharply banked the shuttle the other way. Two missiles passed dangerously close.

  The pilot pulled up hard on the stick, trying his best to get into orbit as quickly as possible. She felt the blood leaving her head, her vision blurred and she was about to black out. She recalled her training on how to deal with a high acceleration turn and clinched all the muscles in her legs and torso then let out several loud grunts trying to force the blood into her head.

  The proximity alarm went off and sounded as if it were a thousand miles away. The control panel seemed to shrink away from her. All she thought about was how embarrassing it would be to pass out in front of the pilot.

  The shuttle leveled out and the blood returned to her head with a vengeance. She looked out the window to see the welcome blackness of space. Below, Ulliam rotated. “The Ulliam fighters have retreated,” the pilot said. “Their missiles ran out of fuel.”