Shadows of Golstar

by Terrence Scott

  Owens couldn’t help but grin. They spent the next few minutes discussing the plan in more detail.

  After much discussion on the landing procedure, Owens then moved to the matter of hand-weapons that they would need to carry on the planet’s surface. He planned to take a mini-rail rifle and pulse-laser handgun. He was more concerned about Sharné. He asked her if she had any small arms experience. She admitted she had no experience with weapons.

  Owens thought a moment and then asked if she would be willing to carry and fire, if necessary, a dispersal gun. He explained the weapon was a simple point-and-shoot device that fired bursts of non-lethal electrically charged particles. A dispersal gun could paralyze a healthy human at about fifty yards. It was normally used in crowd control situations and required virtually no training.

  Sharné surprised Owens by expressing disappointment the dispersal gun was non-lethal but agreed to carry one anyway. He figured that simple vengeance was behind her comment and wondered if he was making a mistake in arming her. Nevertheless, he had no idea of how many mutineers they might face on the surface. An additional weapon seemed a good idea.

  Owens nodded, “Good. It looks like we have a plan, if you can call hide-and-seek a plan.” He paused, considering the next step, “Now, for another more practical matter.” He asked Sharné, “I didn’t think to ask before, but were you by chance able to get some sleep? If you didn’t, I think there’s still enough time to try again. Even a short nap can help.”

  “Surprisingly, I slept very well,” she replied. “I felt as if I had just put my head on the pillow when I heard Hec calling me to wake up.”

  “Good.” He felt a little relief.

  “Yes, and you were right. I do feel much better now; like yours, my mind is clearer. I do not require any more rest, but I confess I am hungry. You did mention some solid food earlier?”

  He nodded, “So I did. I’m hungry myself. I burned up quite a few calories during our little marathon on the Saber. The med capsule provided me some nourishment along with the transfusion, and the nutra-drink did take off the edge, but right now I could really use some solid food.” He straightened, “If you’ll follow me? Hec, I leave control to you.”

  Sharné rose from her seat and followed Owens down the short corridor past his quarters and into the ship’s galley. They entered and sat down at the six-seat dining table. Sharné was impressed by the ample room the galley afforded. Cabinets, shelves, dispensers and auto-cook were all recessed, set flush in the bulkheads.

  Normally, the ship’s AI would perform the cooking chores. However, rather than have Hec do the cooking, Owens decided to use the manual method. He knew he was being a little irrational. The amount of the AI’s resources the galley would take was infinitesimal. Knowing this he still wanted to keep all of Hec’s capacity dedicated to winning their race with the Golstar ship.

  Owens handed her a digi-pad with the ship’s menu listings and showed her how to make her selection on the touch-screen. Once she had made her choices, she handed the digi-pad back. He was surprised that she had selected a heavy, meat-laden dish. Owens thought it looked good and chose the same. He inserted the digi-pad in the slot just below the auto-cook, which immediately beeped its acceptance and began to prepare their meals. They sat at the dining table with cups of Terran green tea Owens had retrieved from the beverage dispenser. Sharné took her first few appreciative sips from the steaming cup.

  Owens stared into his cup, thinking hard about what he was going to do next, how he might broach the subject of the Light Saber’s woeful condition with Sharné. He hoped to get a few answers to some burning questions in the short time they had remaining before the planet-fall.

  As he considered how he would pose his questions, he again began to feel a little tense. This was surprising in view of their current life-and-death situation. Odd, their circumstances hadn’t made him as nervous as he now felt when he contemplated talking to the lovely woman sitting across from him. He took an absent swallow of tea. He supposed it was because he hadn’t much time to think about it; everything happened at such a breakneck pace he had had no time to consider the situation.

  Now, after a little rest and a rudimentary survival plan in-place, he had enough time to think and begin to worry. He recognized that some of his uneasiness centered on his concern about Sharné’s response to his questioning. His first taste of her anger aboard the Saber was still fresh in his mind. He was used to asking blunt, even harsh questions in his line of work. He figured that approach wouldn't exactly endear him to the fiery Golstar representative now sitting demurely across from him, delicately sipping her tea. Her goodwill would be critical if he was to get any meaningful information.

  Still, he also was beginning to wonder if that was the sole reason for his hesitation. Damn, he really was dragging his feet. He couldn’t recall being this indecisive since contemplating his first date, as a bumbling teenager. He shook his head mentally, where did that come from? No, his vacillation had to be due to her being what he assumed to be a ranking member of the Golstar government.

  He reasoned that based on her title and the responsibility she had assumed on his behalf, she was a high-ranking official. In his normal line of work, he didn’t usually rub shoulders with people of Sharné’s status. Of course, it didn’t help that she also was from the dangerous, enigmatic civilization that had-to-date demonstrated nothing but contempt for the Confederated Planets.

  In addition, he was smart enough to admit to himself it only complicated matters that she happened to be highly intelligent and from his perspective at least, drop-dead gorgeous. He, on the other hand, was a fairly uncomplicated, self-employed private investigator with no special skills other than those printed on his business brochures.

  Then again, he thought ruefully that it might simply have something to do with the heavy burden placed on him back on Denbus, one that became harder to bear with each passing day. The importance of the in-person encounter with the government of Golstar never truly left his thoughts, and Reynaud’s parting words kept coming back to plague him, “You will, after all, be the first and sole representative of Confederated Planets. You may have the opportunity to play a key role in opening a genuine dialog between our two peoples.”

  So far, he was sure his performance in diplomacy had fallen far short of Reynaud’s expectation. He groaned inwardly as he thought, here was another opportunity for him to screw up. He would have to employ everything he could remember from the briefings he had reviewed en route to Golstar, which right at that moment wasn’t very much.

  He swallowed the last of the warm brew, and his mind looped back. He wondered again if worrying about offending Sharné was the principal reason for his nervousness. Or was her VIP status just an excuse to avoid another possibility? Almost from the start Owens felt a physical attraction to the stunning Keeper of the Way. How could a breathing man not be attracted? Yes, she was striking, he had to admit, but her appeal went beyond that.

  She was obviously intelligent, confident and had displayed courage during their ordeal aboard the Saber. Still, he thought, a very short time had passed since their first meeting and her effect on him seemed all out of proportion. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in the presence of beautiful women before, let alone dated a few them. However, she was different. Maybe, he thought, it was her mysterious background that intrigued him... or perhaps it was a byproduct of sharing and surviving mutual danger, creating a bond of sorts. He realized this line of thinking wasn’t getting him any closer to the matter at hand. Damn it, he was still procrastinating.

  Sharné looked at Owens and wondered why he had not said anything since he programmed the auto cook. Sharné watched him stare moodily into his empty cup, seemingly oblivious to her presence. As he sat there, staring at the cup in his large hands, she could not guess what he was thinking.

  As the quiet lengthened, she gradually became a little concerned and decided to break the silence. “Owens, is there something bothering you, so
mething I should know?” She sensed he was holding back. A troubled thought surfaced, and she wondered if he wasn’t misguidedly ‘protecting’ her from an unexpected change in their situation, perhaps something affecting their chance for escape. She recalled a recent discussion with her father, about relationships between the men and women in Confederated Planets. Could he be truly trying to protect her… for her own good?

  It did not help her mood that Owens was ignoring her question, still staring down at his cup. At his continued silence, Sharné became more agitated, slowly becoming worried he was indeed keeping something from her. “If it is about our current situation, you must not hesitate to tell me. If there is something wrong, then perhaps I can help.”

  He looked up at her, startled. His eyes looked into hers. Still, he seemed to hesitate, as if trying to find the right words.

  To Sharné, his lack of a reply became inexplicably exasperating, and before she could stop herself, she said, “I need not remind you that you are in my territory, under my indulgence and protection. Your refusal to answer my simple question not only heightens my sense of distrust; it verges on insult. As Keeper of the Way, I will not allow such behavior from a…”

  She stopped, suddenly embarrassed. She had unconsciously slipped into an officious demeanor. Her hidden prejudice was revealed. The unfairness of her statement and the heat in which it was delivered confused her. Why had she reacted so strongly? Right then, she felt like crawling under the table. Under her protection indeed, she thought ruefully. It was really the other way around; it was Owens who had protected her.

  Surprised by the sharpness in her voice, Owens felt a surge of adrenalin. He barely kept himself from an angry retort in reply. Damn, he thought. He always seemed to do the wrong thing around this woman. He tamped down his own rising temper and tried for a reassuring tone, “I’m sorry Sharné; I was uh, somewhere else. It’s a bad habit of mine.”

  She was surprised by his awkward apology. “I was concerned you might be withholding something from me in order to spare my feelings.”

  He shook his head, “No. I’m not hiding anything from you, Sharné. As I said, we’re a team and in this together. You know everything I know.” He wondered what type of information she thought he could possibly be withholding. How could their situation be any worse than it was? “I was just mulling over some thoughts that are ah… totally unrelated to our escape. I guess I drifted off, I do that sometimes. It took me a second to refocus. I can see how I may have alarmed you, given our circumstances.”

  Relieved, she said, “No, it is really I who should apologize. I do not excuse my outburst. I should have known better. Since our escape from the Saber, you have kept me informed of all aspects of our present circumstance and even encouraged my participation.” She looked down, “I suppose I am less resolved with our situation than I had first believed.” Inside she was angry with herself. She was not used to apologizing. What was it about Owens that made her want to attack him? She raised her eyes and looked at him thoughtfully. He still appeared uncomfortable. If it wasn’t their immediate survival that was troubling him, she wondered, what was?

  He saw that she was waiting for him to continue. He guessed that further stalling would only increase her anxiety, and it certainly wouldn’t help him get the information he wanted.

  He said, “If you’re willing, there’s a subject I would like to discuss. However, before I start, you need to know some of the questions I want to ask may be a little sensitive… and to be truthful, a part of my preoccupation was because I’m not quite sure as to how to begin. You have already seen my experience is virtually non-existent when it comes to dealings with officials of state.”

  She said, “We did not request a diplomat.”

  He nodded, “No. You wanted a private investigator, and that’s exactly what I am. Consequently, my questions might seem blunt, perhaps even tactless.”

  Brushing aside his disclaimer, she asked cautiously, “Very well, what are your questions?”

  “My questions are related to my experiences aboard the Saber,” he began. “There were... things I saw before and during the attack that raised a few questions in my mind. I’m hoping you can clear up a few of the anomalies I observed.”

  She raised her eyebrows, “Anomalies?”

  “That was probably a poor choice of words. What I’m hoping is that you’ll help me understand what I saw on the Saber.” He saw her eyebrows dip into the beginnings of a frown. “It’s not to say your assignment doesn’t remain the outstanding question, but right now I’m just trying to clarify some of my observations before we go on to discuss details of Golstar’s request for my services.”

  Sharné was puzzled, “I confess I am somewhat surprised.” She looked at him over the rim of her cup, staring directly into his eyes. She saw how discomfited he still was and asked, “What would take precedence over the reason for our request? Is it about the attack? As I have told you before, I know as little as you.” The lies were starting to pile up. “I have no idea who might have been behind the strike.” At least, this part was true, she thought.

  In a firmer voice, she did warn, “There may be, of course, other questions you ask of which I am not in a position to answer. Nevertheless, for those I can answer, I certainly will try.” Unless, she thought darkly, it was necessary to tell another lie. “So please, you might as well go ahead and begin. Ask your questions.”

  She stopped, searching for the proper words and took another sip of her tea. Then she said, “Owens, with everything that has happened, you have more than earned the right to ask questions. And if you knew my… the Grand Patriarch, you would realize bluntness does not necessarily offend me. In fact, you may have noticed that I have also exhibited that very same trait, at least in a sense aboard the Light Saber.”

  Owens felt a lessoning of his tension and with a faint smile said, “Yes, I do seem to remember a bit of that in a past discussion about something to do with my gravity harness. He patted the slight bulge in his jumpsuit. He was wearing a spare harness to compensate for the lower gravity setting he had had Hec maintain since Sharné boarded the ship.

  Owens relaxed a little more. “Okay, first a little background. Let’s start at the beginning, back on the Saber at the onset of the attack.”

  She nodded, “Very well.”

  “I remember you seemed just as surprised as I, that it was totally unexpected for you as well.”

  “Yes, of course,” she nodded slowly. “But mere surprise does seem an inadequate description for what we both experienced. I cannot deny it was more of a dreadful shock for me. The deceitful nature of the attack was not something my government, or I could have anticipated, nor honestly, were we prepared for. There is nothing in our history where a similar event has taken place.”

  Golstar’s attacks on the Confederated Planets expeditions immediately came to Owens' mind.

  She went on, “I suppose even shock cannot fully express what I felt at the time of the incident. For a time it still seemed unreal, more like a horrible nightmare than a waking reality. Even now, it is difficult for me to accept fully what has happened.”

  Now thinking of the earlier attacks on the Holmes, Owens felt some kinship, “I can understand that feeling. The attacks I recently experienced were surreal for me as well. It’s hard to accept such things when you can’t come up with a logical rationale, the motive behind the act of aggression. ” He shrugged. “So, you’re saying you didn’t anticipate an attack?”

  “As I have said, it was totally unexpected.”

  Owens deliberately framed the question in general terms. As he expected, she had carefully limited her response. He went on, “But you were prepared for some contingency, weren’t you? Perhaps you anticipated the possibility of an attack from the outside, an external agency?”

  She frowned, and then countered with her own question, “Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged again and trying for a matter-of-fact voice, said, “Well, based on the welcomin
g committee awaiting me at the rendezvous location... it appeared you, and your government were at least prepared to defend against some sort of aggressor." Owen realized this might sound like the beginning of a cross-examination and hoped once more that Sharné would not take offense at his words.

  Her frown smoothing, she replied, “I see to what you are referring. The presence of three fully armed ships was designed to preclude any further attacks on your ship. So no one, including myself could have anticipated what we know now to be a tightly coordinated mutiny occurring simultaneously aboard two of our own ships and… and the following incomprehensible attack on the Light Saber.”

  “How did you determine to come in force?”

  “Our intelligence service reaches far beyond our borders and we knew of the attacks on your vessel soon after they occurred. Based on those two previous encounters, it was felt that three battle-class ships would deter any further attacks from the outside. I could have been more complete in my earlier answer. However, I suppose it was easy for you to see by the nature of our ships at the rendezvous coordinates that they were well armed.”

  “Well, yes,” he replied, relieved that she had not taken umbrage. “I didn’t have to be a private investigator to note the impressive amount hardware you had assembled at the rendezvous.” He briefly thought of Hec’s analogy of a ten-ton hydraulic press folding a napkin. “But, to be honest, my very first reaction on seeing the assembled battleships was that it was more for show.”

  Surprised, she asked, “What would be the purpose for such pretense?”

  He rubbed his chin, “Now don’t take this wrong, but my initial thought was those ships there to impress me, and I readily admit they certainly did.” He watched her for any reaction as he carefully went on, “At the time it seemed logical to me. All I knew was based on Golstar’s almost mythical, long-standing reputation. From our perspective, your people are looked upon as being, uh, powerful and militant in nature; forgive me again, and more than willing to show the edge of your sword when you feel threatened.”