A good soldier must always be prepared to take advantage of unanticipated opportunities, he thought. He knew the Leader would be most pleased. The General’s position in the new regime would now be assured. Finally, the title of General would be legitimate rather than ceremonial. Soon, the officers who had been promoted over him would be removed. He would become the ranking officer over all Golstar military forces. No longer would he be made to endure the humiliation of being passed over in favor of less competent, but politically-favored appointees. And when he consolidated his position, those responsible for his disgrace would pay and that payment would be most dear. He chuckled for a moment as he envisioned their humiliation.
His demeanor turned serious once more and he turned his thoughts to more immediate matters. He had recently come upon a piece of unexpected intelligence that presented a unique opportunity, one that would eliminate the enemy before he neared planet-fall. He relished the thought of finally putting to an end to the outsider, this Janus Owens who had foiled the previous two assassination attempts. This golden opportunity would allow him to succeed where others had failed. He, the General, would be the one to remove the interloper once and for all.
The General smiled to himself. He would not use the plan he originally developed to remove the outsider on-planet. Instead, it would be the new plan; his plan alone would provide the final solution. Far away from curious eyes, Janus Owens would be terminated. Unfortunately, there would be some added collateral damage, but given the outcome, it would certainly fall well within acceptable parameters. As with any competent military leader, he would not hesitate to sacrifice a few lives in the righteous cause for the far greater good.
The execution of his plan would finally demonstrate his ability to act independently, unselfishly for the grand cause. He knew the Leader would be greatly impressed. His military acumen and decisiveness would be proven beyond doubt. Any lingering qualms as to his qualifications would finally be removed. Yes, he had planned well and soon the Preservers would know just how well, he thought. They would be gratified to see that he had planned for all possible contingencies.
The General again chuckled to himself as he thought of his own cleverness. Through his foresight, some time ago, he placed a trusted associate into a key position at the Central Communications Crypto Center. It had not been long before the General had received a message from his spy, indicating that a number of encoded communiqués had been sent from the Guardian of the Way’s office. Copies of the decoded messages were now lying on his desk.
He smiled down at the message that gave the initial instructions for assembling the ships at the rendezvous. It had been no small task placing hand-picked officers and enlisted crewmembers on the two escort ships that were loyal to him. His plan was simple and straightforward. At his signal, they would take over the ships and then proceed to attack and destroy the ship transporting Janus Owens. Of course, coordinating such a plan was much more complex, but he was well up to the task. Soon, his tactical brilliance would no longer be overlooked.
As he again pondered the many rewards he would receive for finally ending the troublesome outsider, a chime sounded. He walked over to the small, secure communication console in the corner of his office and flicked the receive toggle. Immediately, a thin sheet spat out of the slot into the receiving tray. He picked it up and read the short message. He smiled widely. It was good news; the news he was waiting for; the outsider was aboard the Light Saber.
He thought a moment, then tapped out a coded message on the console’s keypad, but did not immediately send the message. His finger hovered over the transmit pad and he savored the heady, almost tangible feeling of power. The moment was intoxicating. He would go down in history; his legacy would be reflected upon by future generations. By his hand, the path of Golstar’s future would forever be altered. With this single act, he would be the one responsible for Golstar’s return to the true and righteous path. He hesitated no longer. With a feeling bordering on ecstasy, his hand descended and the message was sent.
CHAPTER 20
Lieutenant Commander Zane aboard the Righteous Fist was bored and stifled yet another yawn. The initial excitement over the mysterious escort duty soon waned into the boredom of the ship routine. They had been on-station for over four ship cycles. The Light Saber, to which they were to provide escort, had only arrived a cycle ago. Another, unidentified ship rendezvoused and linked-up with the Light Saber shortly thereafter.
Unfortunately, the unknown ship’s final approach and docking were screened from the escort ships’ sensors. They had received a terse message stating only that an expected visitor had docked with the Light Saber. After some curiosity and interest from members of the crew, it became apparent that no other information would be forthcoming. The ships’ captains were the only ones privy to that information and it was expected to stay that way.
Secrecy was the standard procedure in the military and Zane, for one, was weary of it and the other oppressive policies he had endured while honorably serving his people. He thought he might leave the service when his tour was up. He only had half a year left in his obligation. Perhaps it was time to resume civilian life.
He shook himself mentally, trying to elevate his alertness. After all, they were at defensive condition, Beta. All ship’s scanners were pointed outward, carpeting the surrounding area of the rendezvous point. As the duty officer for the ‘night’ shift, he constantly scanned the ship’s activity array console. It monitored all the primary duty stations on the ship’s bridge. As he gazed glassy-eyed at the board, a flashing message indicator caught his eye.
He looked across the deck and saw the message alert lamp lit over the master communications console. He quickly strode over to the Communications officer sitting at the console. He wracked his brain, trying to remember the ensign’s name. A number of new crewmen had recently rotated into the ship’s roster and he was still trying to familiarize himself with the new members of the crew; match the names to the faces. He took a little solace that the Fist’s sister ship, the Light Avenger, had experienced a similar crew change.
Zane gave up trying to remember the crewman’s name and leaned over the ensign’s shoulder and asked. “Ensign, I saw that we just received a new message. What is its classification?” He fervently hoped for something that would pull him out of his boredom, like new orders or even a recall, anything but this dull station keeping.
The sandy haired communications officer looked up and seemed mildly surprised by a visit from his duty officer. He looked at the lamp above his head and verified it hadn’t erroneously flashed amber, indicating ‘Priority.’ He confirmed that it was solid white, indicating that it was just one more routine message. “It cleared crypto sir, here it is.” He touched an illuminated square on the console and a flimsy slid into a tray. He looked at a small status screen on the console. “It is coded as a test/calibrate message, sir.”
Zane picked up the flimsy and saw that it was indeed a test. He sighed in disappointment. Just more routine, he thought. He looked at it anyway. The message’s classification was labeled ‘TEST’ across the header and calibration symbols filled a column to the right of the test message. The test message itself was a quotation from the Book of Light. He read, ‘The Light shall prevail in spite of all attempts to dowse it with the dark waters of sin and chaos. The sacrifice of a few to save many may be necessary to preserve the Way. Those who do not shirk from this most difficult duty will be bathed by the Light.’ He didn’t bother to read the remaining lines. Another zealot, he thought of the sender on Berralton. He gave the flimsy back to the ensign and said, “Carry on.” He slowly walked over to his station.
The ensign watched the retreating back of the lieutenant commander. Another bored slacker, he thought. Soon, the lieutenant commander wouldn’t be bothered by boredom. Soon, he wouldn’t be bothered by anything ever again. The ensign smoothed the ‘test’ message, straightening out imaginary wrinkles. It would be valuable someday, he thought. The
colonel sent the message with the code-phrase. It was the go-ahead for the mutiny. This simple message would change history and he would play an important part. Instead of slipping the flimsy into the discard slot, he put the message in his personal abeyance file. He would retrieve it later.
It is now time to get down to business, he thought. He knew his counterpart on the Light Avenger would have received an identical message. He and his counterpart would contact the rest of the mutineers on each ship. They had little more than an hour until the attack would begin. The attack had to be precisely coordinated and started at exactly the same time on both ships. He thought it was unfortunate that none of their people were on the Light Saber. However, he understood it had been too dangerous to attempt any change in personnel assigned to the Grand Patriarch’s own ship.
It was finally time to begin. First, he needed to get off the bridge. He absently reached into his shirt pocket and palmed the small capsule containing a harmless mixture of chemicals that would simulate the onset of food poisoning. He reached up and rubbed his chin, then moving to his mouth, slipped the capsule between his lips. Once he was excused from his communications duty for a trip to sickbay, he would take the antidote. He could then begin contacting the others. He waited in quiet expectation and was pleased when he felt the first chill as the capsule’s contents began to take effect. He could imagine his face was beginning to pale.
Two members of his group were currently at their posts on the bridge. His sudden sickness would be their signal the operation would begin at the end of the next full hour. It would be very soon. As he began to feel worse, he was glad it was now finally starting. The lieutenant commander wasn’t the only one who was bored.
CHAPTER 21
Owens waited to be called back by the Keeper of the Way. It had been over an hour since he had entered the room. At first, he paced back and forth, still trying to figure a way out his predicament. As he was pacing, it dawned on him his room might be under surveillance. He stopped and sat in an overstuffed chair, hoping he would be viewed as being contemplative rather than anxious. He sat stoically as his mind continued its search for a solution to his problem. Finally, he admitted to himself, there was nothing that he could do to repair the damage.
He then stood up and walked over to a round, carved wooden table. A silver tea service rested on its surface. Reaching down, he picked up the sugar bowl and idly turned it in his hands as he silently cursed the man responsible for him being here, Neven the blackmailer, Neven the consummate bureaucrat. What he wouldn’t give right then to place his hands around that scrawny neck and squeeze. He was startled by a sound of grinding metal. He looked down at his clenched hands and saw that the sugar bowl was now a twisted mass, the sugar pooling between his boots. He hastily put it back on the silver tray. The small misshapen lump of metal looked out of place with the remaining pieces and he hoped that it wasn’t some sort of family heirloom. Just one more thing to piss off the Keeper of the Way, he thought darkly.
This brought back to mind her recent behavior. Her initial reaction to his alleged violation seemed totally out of proportion to the infraction. At the time, she actually seemed on the verge of losing control. Even when he explained the nature of the harness, she remained quite angry, as if she hadn’t really listened to his words.
He hadn’t expected that. He had assumed that Golstar would have sent a high-level diplomat. She didn’t seem to fit the profile. The Keeper of the Way didn’t exhibit any of the diplomatic mannerisms he had experienced while back on Denbus. Then again, he thought, maybe arrogance and haughtiness were Golstar’s version of diplomacy. Perhaps it was just her age, he mused; she did seem awfully young to hold such an important-sounding title. He shrugged and put those thoughts aside for future consideration.
But, to be honest, he had to admit her reaction would not have occurred at all had he not been responsible for the oversight in the first place. Instead, he might still be engaged in polite conversation with the ravishing Keeper of the Way. Well at least, he reasoned, he had been earnest in both his admission and apology.
Of course on the bright side, he thought with a flash of dark humor, with her superior attitude there was always the chance the Keeper would allow for him as being a complete idiot and accept his apology out of pure sympathy for the mentally impaired. He snorted, yeah, and maybe with their advanced technology, they could implant some intelligence in his brain. He shook his head in self-disgust and imagined the reaction of his government on learning that their representative had managed to royally piss off a high-ranking Golstar official within mere minutes of boarding the vessel.
Right then he wished he could talk to Hec. Not that he thought that Hec would offer anything useful, but he would provide a much-needed sounding board, at least once he stopped laughing. In his mind’s ear could hear Hec say, ‘…and they want you to follow clues? Excuse me Boss but it seems to me that you can’t even follow simple directions.’ Imagining the crusty AI’s reaction, Owens couldn’t help but grin.
His humor quickly faded and his thoughts returned to the gravity of the situation. His regret was gradually giving way to indignation. The sole reason that he was here was because of their damned invitation. They wanted a private investigator, and had asked for him, specifically. And goddamn it, that’s what he was, a private investigator, not a diplomat. If they had a case that needed investigation, fine, just give him the damn problem and he would try to solve it. If the rulers of Golstar had issues with his minor transgression, then either shoot him or send him back. Screw diplomacy, he thought.
With these thoughts, he actually felt better and the tenseness in his shoulders began to ease. As he became a little more relaxed, his thoughts returned to the Keeper of the Way. Her admonishment faded into the background as a grudging appreciation of her obvious female attributes began to crowd out his previous reflections. It had been a very long time since he had held a woman of her stature in his arms and he idly wondered what it would be like to kiss those inviting lips, provided of course there was an antidote to the venom that spewed from them. He did have to admit she was definitely a beautiful woman; at least from the brief external view he was afforded. However, as he continued to think of her, he remembered the modest cut of her clothing and without willing it; his natural analytical mind began to take over.
Her clothing was conservative, only her face and hands exposed. It more or less matched the attire he had been ordered to wear. This triggered a new thought. His eyes tracked around the room and he again noted the marked Victorian style of the furnishings. In fact, he thought, everything that he had seen of the ship so far had left him with an impression of ancient Victorian England.
He again considered the Keeper’s clothing with the high neckline and low hem touching the floor. He looked down at his own modest apparel and thought even the Guard’s uniform had a distinct Victorian cut to it. He wondered if it could be that obvious, that simple, that the Victorian age of old Earth had a marked influence on Golstar’s culture.
How very odd, he thought, that he would be familiar with that ancient period in Earth’s history. While no scholar on the subject, he knew the Victorian period was named for, and corresponded to the reign of a Queen named Victoria. She ruled a country called England from 1839 to 1901, old Earth reckoning. He remembered that the country’s social foundation was greatly influenced by the Queen and her husband, Prince Albert. The Victorian era exemplified what was then considered as high morals, modesty, and proper decorum.
He knew this because out of curiosity, he had researched one of his favorite authors, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who was born back in the late 1850s during the Victorian era. Doyle’s first story featuring the great mythical private detective, Sherlock Holmes, his ship’s namesake, was titled ‘A Study in Scarlet’ and was published in the latter period of Queen Victoria’s reign. He had considered naming the ship ‘Scarlet,’ but decided that he didn’t want it confused with a great, ancient literary character of the same name.
As he began to speculate on how much influence the historical era might have had on Golstar society, a soft chime coming from the vicinity of the door interrupted his thoughts. The chime sounded twice more at discrete intervals, then the door to his quarters opened and the same guard was waiting out in the corridor.
The guard, taciturn as ever, simply said that the Keeper of the Way was ready to receive him again and then turned and started down the corridor without another word. Owens rose from the bed and rushed to follow him, almost running into his back. He had forgotten that he was not wearing his harness. Without it, he would have to be very careful. His reflexes were attuned to higher gravity. He had to remember to compensate and slow his reactions. He reduced his bouncing gate to a more controlled shuffle.
The guard had not noticed his difficulty and continued to lead Owens back down the long corridor. Owens was careful to pay better attention on the way to the Keeper so that if he had to, he could find his way back to his quarters on his own.
It struck him as odd that they had encountered no crew on the way to his quarters. On this return trip, the corridors were just as deserted. It was strange to him that on a ship this size he had met only two people, the Keeper and the guard. Perhaps they had screened off this section of the ship to keep him isolated from the crew. In his preoccupation with the empty corridors, Owens almost collided with the guard again who had finally stopped in front of a door. The guard tapped the pressure plate and the door opened into the same room in which Owens had originally met with the Keeper of the Way.
He entered the room and the door slid closed behind him. He saw her sitting at a small table he had not noticed during his initial meeting. He stood just inside the threshold, waiting. She put down what looked to be a document reader and said in a neutral voice, “Janus Owens, please take a seat.” She gestured to the chair across from her. He searched her face and saw nothing in her demeanor that would indicate her state of mind. Carefully, he walked to the chair she had indicated.
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