Worlds Away (The Interstellar Age Book 3)

by Daniels, Valmore

  During the trip, none of the soldiers spoke to them, and though both Alondo and Nadia whispered to one another, they ignored Michael.

  Once they got out of the truck, the three of them were greeted by a small squad of Guatemalan soldiers, who escorted them to the main building.

  Inside, dressed in the uniform of a general, a dark-haired, middle-aged man with a thin, black mustache, which drooped at the corners of his smiling mouth, stepped out from a side room and gave Michael a conciliatory nod of his head.

  “Once again, I must apologize for your treatment. Welcome to my home.”

  Michael couldn’t believe his eyes, and though he opened his mouth, no words came out.

  Nadia, her voice cracking with shock, said, “¿Papá?”

  “What are you doing here?” Alondo asked, more outraged than surprised. “I thought you were still in prison?”

  Obviously enjoying himself, Oscar Ruiz made a dramatic bow and said, “I haven’t been there for years, my son. It suited me to let the world believe I was still incarcerated. It gave me freedom to accomplish a great many things.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Nadia asked, then she frowned. “Is this why you would not permit us to visit you in La Granja?”

  “I assure you, it was necessary. My apologies, my children. Of course, you will forgive me.”

  Both the siblings looked hesitant.

  Then Oscar waved his hand at them. “Come, we have much to discuss, and my other guests are waiting.”

  Numbly, Michael let himself be led into the adjacent room. He guessed who was in the room before he got all the way inside.

  Yaxche, Patli, and Humberto were sitting beside one another on a long couch, looking refreshed.

  “Are you all right?” Michael asked Yaxche, his eyes encompassing all three of them.

  “Ahyah,” the old Mayan said with a grin. “We’ve been here since noon.”

  Humberto glared at Señor Ruiz. “Where are the others?”

  “Do not worry yourself. I ‘liberated’ everyone from my children’s custody and brought them here. Your injured friends are in another part of the complex being treated as we speak. You see, I am not an uncivilized man.”

  Oscar Ruiz gestured to a table with trays of meats, fruits and pastries. “Please, eat something. I must apologize if the coffee is not quite as good as what we grew on my plantation.”

  Alondo and Nadia made no move toward the refreshments, but Michael’s stomach growled. He wasn’t certain what Oscar’s intentions were, but from his last encounter, he decided the man’s sense of hospitality would prevent him from having his guests harmed out of hand.

  Michael picked up a small dish and filled it with a few choice selections from the table. He found a chair and sat down.

  Around the food in his mouth, Michael said, “You arranged to have me abducted at the airport.”

  “I prefer to say that I tried to extend an invitation to you, Mr. Sanderson, without the knowledge of the Honduran or Canadian authorities. I’ve been paying a great deal of money to ensure everyone thinks I am still incarcerated in La Granja Prison. If my ‘old friend’ Humberto had not interceded, we all could have saved a great deal of time.”

  He glanced at his children. “I am sorry if you have suffered in the past few years, but it was necessary to maintain the fiction. I know you are angry with me, but now that you are here, we will combine our efforts, and once again become prosperous.”

  “In Guatemala?” Alondo asked.

  “Honduras is aligned too closely with the northern countries. The Cruzados are now nothing more than a group of nostalgic farmers and peasants—I’m sorry if that insults you, but it is the truth,” he said to Humberto. “However, the CEO of Guatemala Departmental understands where the future is, and together, we are working to ensure our place in the Empire.”

  Michael had a sinking sensation in his gut. “The Solan Empire?”

  He couldn’t believe it. Somehow, Chow Yin had aligned himself with the government of Guatemala. Had this been his plan all along? Was this why he had really let Michael go, rather than simply to appease Alex? If so, how had Yin known what Michael’s purpose was? Even Michael hadn’t known what he was looking for until he got here. Or had Chow Yin merely been playing the long odds?

  Oscar smiled. “I will answer all of your questions, Mr. Sanderson,” he said, “and I will ensure your friends are returned to their homes in Honduras unharmed.”

  “I sense a condition,” he said.

  Nodding, Oscar said, “And I’m certain you can guess that condition.”

  During the long ride in the truck, Michael had plenty of time to think through the various possibilities. It all came down to one, however: possession of the alien body. Michael had hoped that no one knew the true purpose of his journey. Now that Oscar revealed that he was working for the Solan Empire, he knew a message would have already been dispatched to Chow Yin, informing him of the discovery.

  He suddenly lost his appetite. “You want me to work for you.”

  “His Highness has sent word to provide you with the most state-of-the-art laboratory facilities and equipment available, and to extend every convenience to you. Your stay with me here will be comfortable, I assure you. Once you have completed your work, we will make arrangements to send your friends home.”

  Michael felt like he’d been kicked in the gut.

  Alondo, the look of anger having changed to one of anticipation during the course of the conversation, said, “What of us, Father?”

  “Ah,” Oscar said. “I would like you to return to the dig site and take over once again. I am certain Mr. Sanderson will instruct you on the precautions you need to follow in order to transport the alien body here safely.” He winked at his son. “It is time for me to take you under my wing, and mold you to become my heir in the new empire.”

  To Nadia, he said, “My daughter, I have a very important mission for you. With all our new guests, I require someone to run the household—” At her sour look, Oscar held up a hand to forestall any protest. “—and to liaise with the Guatemalan CEO’s office as an official ambassador of the Solan Empire. Do you think you are up to the task?”

  For the first time, Michael saw the young woman’s eyes light up. It would be a prestigious position.

  “Now,” Oscar said to Michael, “you have to excuse me while I report the good news to His Highness.”

  Michael dropped the plate of food on the table, its contents uneaten, and shared a miserable look with Humberto. He’d been a pawn in Chow Yin’s game all along.

  34

  Skanse Aerie :

  Gliesan System :

  Justine accompanied Yoatl to his apartment on another spire, where she met his wife, Ekthin. She was a dainty woman, who spoke with a very soft voice.

  “Welcome to our home,” she said by way of greeting. “I hope the outfits I chose are to your satisfaction.”

  “They’re perfect.” Justine grabbed the fabric of her top and stretched it out. “What’s it made of?”

  “There’s a small species of animal on Gliese, similar to the opossums of Earth, that produces this for their nests. We’ve managed to synthesize the material. It’s very durable and warm. We call it swa.”

  Yoatl gestured to a living room area. “Come, make yourself comfortable. I hope you don’t mind, but before I take you to your quarters, there are several of the Solan Society’s members I would like you to meet. I hope that will be all right.”

  “After I retired from NASA, I got a job as a public relations hostess for diplomats and ambassadors.” Justine laughed. “I am more than comfortable with crowds.”

  Smiling widely, Yoatl said, “Excellent. I will let them know you are ready to meet them.”

  ∞

  Justine spent the better part of the evening chatting with the dozen guests Yoatl invited. For the most part, they were more interested in her personal history than world events. They wanted to hear stories of her time in NASA as a pilot.
Her history with Alex and Michael was a hot topic, but when she spoke about Yaxche, everyone grew excited.

  “From what we’ve learned, we share common ancestry with him; his forefathers and ours were from the same region on Earth,” one of the older men said. “I would have enjoyed meeting him.”

  “I didn’t spend a lot of time with him,” Justine said. “But he is very wise. I’m sure he’d love to meet you someday.”

  The evening went on for longer than Justine had expected, and when Yoatl finally announced that it was time for their guest of honor to retire, she was more than grateful.

  Saying goodbye to the visitors took another hour, and by the time the last one was gone, Justine was exhausted.

  He escorted her to another apartment at the end of the spire. “There was some debate on where to house you,” he said. “The commander of the station thought you might be more comfortable with the other Aethers, but we convinced him you would adjust to life here faster if you were surrounded by Solans.”

  Justine didn’t want to tell him that it didn’t matter to her where they put her; she had no intention of adjusting to life on Skanse Aerie, as wondrous as it was. Instead, she smiled at him and shook his hand as they stopped outside the apartment door of her new quarters.

  “Thank you,” she said to him.

  “I will come by tomorrow morning, and we can begin your orientation.”

  “That would be perfectly fine.” Justine waved her hand over the protrusion on the wall—as she’d seen Yoatl do at his apartment—and her door slid open. They both said their good-nights, and Justine went inside.

  She was too tired to take a full tour of the apartment, and only looked around long enough to spot the reclining platform. A few hours’ meditation there was just what she needed.

  ∞

  After resting, she explored her new quarters. There were four rooms. Besides the lavatory and reclining platform, there was a kitchen with a nest-shaped area for eating. Justine climbed on and played around with the console until the panel in the wall folded out. Pressing a few other buttons on the console produced a breakfast dish—at least, she hoped it was breakfast. A shallow container appeared in the recess, filled with something that looked to be of the same consistency as the vegetable mash from last night. She tasted it, and decided it was palatable. She remembered how to order water, though she would have preferred coffee—she had no idea if Gliese had anything like caffeine.

  Once she’d eaten, she went to the large, central room that she decided was the main living area. There was some odd-looking furniture placed around the room. Instead of chairs, there were soft pedestals. She assumed the Gliesans were more comfortable perching on these than sitting. Yoatl’s apartment had more earth-style furnishings, all designed for humans. She’d have to ask him about getting some for herself.

  Along one wall, she recognized a computer area, set up similar to the one aboard the Fainne. Immediately, she sat down on the curved chair, and the holographic monitor flickered on.

  It didn’t look as if the computer had a synaptic interface, but she was just as comfortable tapping the controls with her fingers.

  Previously, she’d researched the ancient history of the Kulsat. She needed more current information, and she spent the next hour scouring the Gliesan database for anything that would help her understand them, and provide her with a means of stopping them from destroying Sol System.

  The Kulsat home world was largely a mystery to the rest of the galaxy. They were a highly paranoid society, and they had a contingent of several hundred warships guarding their star beacon at all times. The Collection sent Sentinel scout ships on reconnaissance to the Kulsat System on an unsystematic cycle. The ships would materialize in Kulsat space, take as many readings as they could, and fly back seconds before the Kulsat Risen could close access to the star beacon, and before the warships could fire on them.

  Over the past several hundred years, major offensives had been launched. At one time, before the Aetherbeings worked out how to limit access to the star beacon, more than a dozen systems had sent thousands of Collection ships to attack Kulsat in a concerted effort.

  They’d managed to get past the first line of defenses, but before they could meet the bulk of the Kulsat armada, every Kulsat ship that had been in other systems returned home. The Collection ships were trapped between the two forces, and had been decimated. It was the last time anyone had attempted to bring the fight to the enemy.

  The Kulsat, with their numbers and technology, had attacked and destroyed over ten-thousand cultures since the war had started a millennium ago.

  So far, the only effective defense against them was to remain as unnoticeable as possible, and not to pose an immediate threat. As in Gliese, all star systems maintained a permanent patrol around their star beacon. Should it activate from any Kulsat-occupied system, the Aetherbeings would all work together to suppress access through the star beacon. Although the technique was effective against an armada, it would not stop a small number of ships from passing through. There was always a military presence on hand to deal with such situations.

  In order for Sol System to defend itself, it would require enough Kinemats to do the same thing to their star beacon, and they would need a fleet of warships to interdict any Kulsat who managed to get through the restricted opening. Also, they would need to understand the technology the other systems had developed to read and control the star beacons. For all Justine knew, that could take years…

  Growing despondent in the knowledge of what seemed like insurmountable odds, Justine called up some non-military information, wondering if there was some other way to defeat the undefeatable force.

  As a society, the Kulsat evolution was driven by necessity. Their home world, mostly oceanic, was a harsh environment, filled with dozens of underwater predators. In their history, the Kulsat were easy prey, and had needed to develop the ability to use tools and weapons to ensure their survival.

  Their progress had been geared toward industrial endeavors, and their social structure was based on technological merit; the more advanced they were, the higher their chance to protect their species against their enemies—and they considered any non-Kulsat an enemy. It was almost as if they had a genetic predisposition toward paranoia.

  One social theorist in the Collection posited that meeting the Grace would have been one of the most frightening experiences in Kulsat history: a force so far advanced that they were completely at their mercy. As with many militaristic cultures, the Kulsat, realizing they were powerless, had become subservient to the Xtôti, biding their time until their own technology advanced to the point where they no longer felt threatened.

  Once the Xtôti died off, the Kulsat had begun a thousand-year campaign of expansion and domination that terrorized the galaxy.

  Justine lifted her head when she heard the chime at her door, and quickly stepped over to answer it. Yoatl was waiting for her.

  “I trust you had a restful night?” he asked.

  Nodding, Justine said, “Yes. I have to say, that hammock is one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever been in. I just wish I could experience sleep; then I could take full advantage of it.”

  “It’s an extension of the nests the prehistoric Aves made. Warm, supportive, and protective.” Yoatl crooked his head. “Have you thought about my offer to join the Solan Society? We’re much more than just a casual affiliation of humans; many Aves are also members. We are strong advocates for future ties between Gliese and Sol, when they eventually become members of the Collection.”

  “That does sound promising,” Justine said. Although Yoatl had already shown that he was a man who believed in the Galactic Law, and would not go against it, there might be others who were more sympathetic, and could provide Justine with other means to accomplish her goal: stopping the Kulsat.

  “Before we do anything else, is there any way I can see Red Spot, and see if she’s all right?”

  “Of course,” Yoatl said with a kind s
mile. “Though they have not been afforded nearly as much privilege as you, the Kulsat have been granted official refugee status from the Parliament. We can head there right away, if you like.”

  “Yes, please.”

  Stepping back to give Justine enough room to exit her apartment and join him in the long hall, he said, “On an interesting side note, Gliese has been, historically, very welcoming to species from other worlds. I believe nearly eight percent of the Gliesan citizenship are xenomorphic in origin. Should Red Spot and the others desire to work toward citizenship, they would be the first Kulsat in the history of Gliese to do so.” A moment later, he added, “I’m sure, if you should decide to apply for citizenship, we could push for a quick approval. There are only five Solan Aetherbeings—including Ah Tabai—I’m certain you could become a role model, and perhaps convince others to attempt the conversion.”

  “Only five?” Justine asked.

  “The Solans on Gliese are highly family-oriented, and we have kept many of our ancestral traditions, including a great reverence for nature. The sacrifice of being away from home and hearth for the rest of one’s life is a difficult decision to make. I believe the Solan Society would gain political status with the Parliament if we could contribute more to space industries.”

  They’d reached the central hub of the station, and Yoatl directed Justine to another platform that floated above the large area and ended near the entrance of a guarded spire.

  Two Gliesans looked up as they approached, and one of them faced Yoatl. “Ambassador,” he said, shooting a glance at Justine. “We weren’t expecting you.”

  Yoatl gave the guard a polite nod. “Last-minute decision to see to our other new guests.”

  “One moment, please.”

  The other guard tapped something on a podium in front of him. Justine assumed it was a computer or a communications console, because a few moments later, the guard nodded to his colleague. “The commander has cleared them for visitation.”