Shadows of Golstar

by Terrence Scott

  Neven, again behind his desk, pushed a laser stylus towards Owens.

  Owens said stubbornly, “I’m going to read this before I sign it. You’re going to have to wait a little longer.”

  Neven merely nodded at Owens.

  It took Owens about half an hour to read through the documents while Neven patiently waited. There were no surprises. The two documents appeared as Neven had presented them. Owens signed them, almost breaking the stylus with the force of his hard strokes. He heard the whisper of the office door closing. He quickly turned around and saw that the Marine had left. He turned and stared hard at Neven. Then he asked, “Now will you at least tell me who wants to hire me?”

  Neven smiled grimly, “Have you ever heard of Golstar?”

  Owens sat back in utter surprise, his anger momentarily forgotten. Neven’s question was the very last thing that he had expected. He began, “What kind of question…?” He stopped, and then started again, “Well… I’ve always thought Golstar was more of a myth than fact, an adult fairy tale...” He ran a hand through his hair. He was totally caught off-balance.

  Neven shook his head, “You might be surprised.”

  “All I know is it’s been a favorite topic of regulars of local neighborhood bars for as long as I can remember.” Owens went on, “Of course I’ve heard my share of stories… everyone has. The majority of them are obviously the product of the fertile imaginations of people with too much time on their hands. I chalk most of the stories to be pure fantasy, like ghost stories told late at night around a campfire. Frankly, the only thing that appears consistent in the various versions of the tales is that Golstar has been under a government quarantine edict for the last couple of centuries.”

  Neven asked, “The quarantine, do you know why?”

  “As to why…” Owens said, “well, I guess that would depend on which legend you subscribe to. I know some believe that it’s an ultra-secret testing ground for the military, which I guess wouldn’t be too hard to believe. However, there are others who believe it’s a source of incredible wealth the government keeps for itself, and still others think there’s a race of aliens who are carriers of a terrible disease fatal to humans with no known cure. There’s even a story it’s haunted by specters of a long dead alien race.”

  Owens shrugged, “That’s just the few that readily come to my mind. There must be hundreds more. I have heard the quadrant is restricted for civilian traffic and the restriction is strictly enforced by the military. I’ve never been near the area myself, so I’ve always doubted it ever truly existed. So, are you now actually telling me it’s real? And even it’s true, just what in the hell does it have to do with the mysterious client?”

  “Actually, it has everything to do with your prospective client. A message was recently received from this ‘myth.’ They named you, specifically, and have requested your professional services,” Neven answered blandly.

  Now Owens was really taken aback. He leaned forward and said, “You’re saying it actually exists? It’s not just a cover story to hide some ultra-secret government installation?”

  “Oh, it exists alright,” Neven said. “It’s been a thorn in our government’s side for over three centuries. And now you’re going to find out exactly why you had to sign those papers.” Then, Neven launched into a description of the events that led to the quarantine of Golstar so many years before. After about two hours, they broke for dinner. A servitor arrived with a food-laden cart and they ate in Neven’s office. After the meal, it took another hour for Neven to complete the tale.

  “It’s almost as bad as all the other stories I’ve heard.” Owens said. “So, you’re saying Golstar basically whipped our butts and it’s since been off-limits all these years.”

  “Not quite,” Neven sighed. “After the first hundred or so years, another attempt was made to penetrate the Golstar system. We sent a specially designed spy probe, heavily shielded for stealth. It didn’t even make it as far as the very first unshielded probes. Transmission was immediately lost as it crossed the quarantine’s border and as a gentle reminder, five of the picket ships stationed just outside of the system to enforce the quarantine vanished without a trace.”

  “Quite a response…”

  “Yes, I failed to mention they also destroyed a number of subspace communications repeater buoys that had been in-place since they were deployed by the first expedition. Needless to say, we have not made another attempt since.”

  Owens couldn’t keep the smirk off his face, “That was very wise of you.”

  Neven ignored Owens’ comment and pushed a single hardcopy sheet across the desk. “They have since remained in complete isolation. However, now, after three uninterrupted centuries of silence, they send us this.” He motioned at the innocuous-looking sheet.

  Owens picked it up and began to read. After a few moments, he looked at Neven and said, “You’re kidding.”

  CHAPTER 11

  He awoke to a soft tapping on his bedchamber door. Being a light sleeper, he was immediately alert. He recognized the knock and sat up in bed. He reached over and touched the light globe on his bed stand. As the room gradually lightened, he gathered and drew on his night robe then said loudly, “Come in Sharné.”

  The ancient latch clicked and the dark-oiled wooden door manually swung inward on its black iron hinges. Bright light from the hallway flooded the soft-lit chamber. His daughter haloed in its light, was momentarily framed in the doorway. At that moment, the Grand Patriarch achingly noted her resemblance to her mother was truly striking.

  So many years ago, he thought, and yet he still felt the sense of loss as if it had happened only yesterday. The regret would never leave him. Each night, before he retired, remembrances of his beautiful young wife would gently insinuate themselves into his thoughts. With these remembrances, came the sorrow that such a bright-burning and promising life was extinguished before its time.

  Sharné quietly entered the chamber and the moment was lost. She closed the door behind her and sat down in a side chair next to the oversized, canopied bed of her father. He smiled, “Well daughter, what brings you to me at this late hour?” He looked over at an antique clock, “Or perhaps I should say, early hour?”

  “I am sorry father, but I could not sleep. I cannot stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong. More importantly, if the plan should fail because of me…” she said quietly, staring at her hands resting in her lap. “I am not usually so insecure.” She looked up, “I just needed to talk.”

  He reached over and took her hands. “Sharné, it is I who should be the one to apologize. I knew it might be difficult for you, given the role that you will play, and I am truly loath to put you through all this. There is always a possibility something may go wrong; there are so many variables after all. Nevertheless, I truly believe you will do fine. I have faith in you.”

  “I will do my utmost to justify your faith.”

  “I know that, daughter. That is all any father can hope of his child.”

  She said softly, “Still, I worry that I may not prove adequate to the task.”

  “Enough,” He said kindly. “You are the Keeper of the Way. That position is by no means undemanding. Yet you have excelled in all that has been asked of you, have you not?” He smiled, “You have nothing to say to that, now have you?”

  Sharné could not help but smile, “No, father.”

  His own smile faded, and he allowed himself a small sigh. “To be honest, your performance is the least of my worries. The eventual outcome will likely be influenced by other, unforeseen events for which no amount of planning can prepare. Please believe me when I say I am confident that you will not falter in your role.”

  “Thank you father. I suppose I just needed to hear your assurance. These doubts overwhelmed me in a moment of weakness,” she said ruefully.

  He said, “Your doubts are a sign of concern for the People, not of weakness. You must know I too harbor a few doubts as to the ultimate outcome of
my plans.”

  Sharné looked at him skeptically.

  “No, it is true. I do have my doubts. In particular, I am concerned the Grand Council and the Assembly may yet discover what we are doing and attempt to intervene.”

  “They would dare to defy openly the will of the Grand Patriarch?”

  He chuckled, and then said, “No, not openly and not a majority. They would not do it in public because the general populace remains ignorant of the severity of the problem. The Council and Assembly understand bringing our activities out in the open can only polarize our people into separate camps. Not even they would risk civil war.”

  He paused, rubbing his eyes, “However, that being said, the members of the Council and Assembly would still intervene and attempt to undermine our plan.” He nodded to himself, “Yes, there are those who would not hesitate to disrupt, out of the public eye, all that we have done and hope yet to accomplish.”

  “You are certain?”

  He nodded, “The activities of certain members have been documented. Minister Joselé and her cronies immediately come to mind.”

  Before Sharné could voice the protest he knew was coming, he continued, “She has been a worthy adversary and in past years she provided the necessary balance that our government needs. However, on this issue, she refuses to see the truth of it. Should she become aware of our efforts, I know she will not stop at anything short of public exposure to prevent our plan from succeeding. I understand she has the best interests of our people in mind, but on this, she is wrong.”

  He saw that Sharné seemed to accept his words. “So, you are not alone in your feelings. And just as you, I confess I too sometimes lay awake at night, wondering if I have done all I could to halt our continued fall and ensure that our people will flourish.” He sighed again, “Yes my daughter. I have my doubts also.”

  “Thank you for confiding in me, father.”

  “Thank you for listening, daughter.” Then as if an afterthought, he said, “You understand that the plan is a last act born out of desperation. It may very well fail due to its own inherent shortcomings. Nevertheless, something should have been done long ago. I read my great, great grandmother’s journals. She suspected the coming crisis almost two hundred years ago. The signs were clear even then. However, our scientists assured her a solution was close at hand, as they have with each ruler since. And yet the situation has steadily worsened. And up until a short time ago, the Founder help me, I believed them too.”

  Sharné looked at her father intently. “We all believed them; everyone within the inner circle believed them. You cannot take the full responsibility on your shoulders.”

  “Oh, but I must,” he gently countered. “After all, I am the Grand Patriarch, hereditary leader of Golstar. Our people look to me to protect them and our Way of life.” He paused, looking into her eyes. “But you’re not here to listen to me lament my fate. I see there is something more that troubles you. What is it, daughter?”

  She bowed her head once more. “You know me too well. It is the man from Confederated Planets. He is... I have reviewed the profile that you provided me.” She became silent.

  He prompted, “And?”

  She raised her head, “He is alien.”

  The Grand Patriarch asked, “In what way? Is it his background, his personality profile or perhaps his physical appearance?”

  “It is what he represents.” There was repugnance in her voice. “He comes from a foreign culture, an alien culture. He is not of our Way. His people are our enemy. He is our enemy. For over three hundred years his kind has been our nemesis. And now when I view his image, our enemy has a face. How can I…” She stopped abruptly, unable to say the words.

  “Let him be near you, breathe the same air? Let him get close enough to allow him to talk to you?” The Grand Patriarch’s voice strengthened, “I do understand. Much of your reluctance comes from our Way of life. Even though the adjustment will take a little time, I know you can sublimate your true feelings. You know as well as I... you have no choice in this matter, if my plan is to succeed.”

  “Yes, Father,” she said in almost a whisper.

  “Remember, you need only to tolerate his presence, his existence, for but a short while. And hopefully he, in turn, will not be made aware of your bias. It is here that I expect your diplomatic experience will be beneficial. And remember, too, he is our one real hope. He must remain unaware of your true feelings. Your part is to shield him from not only from your own feelings, but also from those of our citizens. In doing so, you will help him to help us.”

  “I know that father, but it remains the hardest part of my role,” she replied, her voice regaining its strength. “Inside, I know I will feel the way I always have. He is tainted, an enemy to the Way.” She shook her head, “But you have been very patient in explaining why I must suppress my natural reaction. I will do as you ask.”

  “And what of him, Sharné, have you considered how he might feel about you?”

  “I remember my schooling,” she responded coolly. “An uninitiated citizen of Confederated Planets would look upon us as strange, sterile replicas of their perception of what it is to be human, more akin to their mechanical servitors than living, breathing people.”

  “True enough,” he nodded.

  “And I can accept that. What I cannot accept, or for that matter, even conceive of, is his way of life. Father, it has no structure, no higher purpose. His society allows wanton interaction between opposite and same sexes. They genetically manipulate their bodies on personal whims, not for the common good. They exploit their environment and each other. They have as many religions as there are grains of sand on Founders Beach.”

  “I am keenly aware of his society’s shortcomings.” A hint of impatience had crept into his tone. “I am not asking you to endorse his way of life. I am asking you to present our request earnestly, without apparent prejudice. And to do that, you must appeal to his instincts as well as his intellect. We need him to believe we truly need his professional services. And we need you to provide the bridge; a bridge to span the differences between our two peoples, at least temporarily.”

  The Grand Patriarch rose from his bed and started to pace. “He will never know our need goes far beyond his professional services. Should he somehow discover the true reason he was allowed to be here, well… there are other contingencies, although less pleasant, which may ultimately be necessary. However, I sincerely hope we will not have to employ them. It would lead to…” He sighed, “Further complications.”

  She suppressed a shudder. “I… I think I was simply afraid, for perhaps the first time in my life, of the unknown. That fear clouded my judgment and brought me these doubts. I thought I had outgrown the need for fatherly reassurance.”

  He had stopped pacing and was looking thoughtfully at her.

  “With all of my responsibilities as Keeper of the Way, I believed my experience would stand me well in the upcoming role I am destined to play. Nevertheless, I have underestimated the strength of my beliefs and biases, and the need for changes I must make within me. Unexpectedly, I found myself once again the little girl who needed her father to sooth away her childish fears. Truly, I thought I was more self-sufficient. I am very sorry Father.”

  “Never be sorry,” he said with mock sternness. “It gladdens me you can still come to me and seek my counsel. Again, it is I who should be seeking forgiveness. I am asking a lot of you and it is unfair. I know. I admit a portion of the plan’s success rides on your lovely shoulders. Apprehension in such a situation is natural. You know you can come to me any time of day or night. I am your father. I will always be here for you and know I love you very much. I only hope I have helped, if but a little.”

  A grateful smile flitted across her lips. “You have, thank you Father. I do promise to be more patient and work harder. No matter how that I feel, I will not let it interfere with my responsibilities when the time comes.”

  She rose, reached over, gave her father a
gentle hug and whispered in his ear, “I love you too.” She then quietly left without another word. As the door closed behind her, the Grand Patriarch’s brow furrowed with concern.

  His daughter’s visit troubled him. Other doubts about the plan since he had set it in motion now returned to plague his thoughts. Logically, he knew it was natural for Sharné to be unsettled. Nevertheless, this late-night visit was unexpected. The plan’s success depended more on Sharné than he had first envisioned, even more than he had intimated to his daughter. Was Talin right? Should he reconsider using his daughter? He again went over the facts as he knew them and eventually concluded that it remained the only course to take.

  He was fully awake now. He rose from his bed and walked over to his reading table. He took a large tome with frayed bindings that was resting on the table and sat in the adjacent leather chair. He activated another nearby light globe and carefully opened the book to a place marked by a thin, faded green ribbon. He breathed in the musty tang of the yellowed brittle pages and began to read.

  CHAPTER 12

  After reading the message from Golstar, and following the long ensuing discussion, Owens finally sat back in his chair and looked across at Neven. “So, you’re telling me that you honestly have no idea what’s behind this?”

  Neven shook his head, “No, only speculation.”

  Owens looked up distractedly at the ceiling. “Three hundred years ago we tried to make contact, and in response, they pushed our face in the mud. Absolute silence since the warning and now after centuries they want to hire a private investigator. On top of it all, they name me in particular. Now what the hell is that?” His gaze returned to Neven. “You mentioned speculation. So, you at least have a theory?”