The Grand Patriarch smiled grimly at Talin, “This is an opportunity to remove one of my harshest critics. The minister has provided me the means to silence her. She has willfully broken our law and I will have her pay for her transgression.”
“She wields significant power in the Assembly. Her many admirers may cause trouble.”
“Nonsense,” the Grand Patriarch brushed aside Talin’s concern. “Sever the head of the serpent and the body will soon perish.” Then he looked pointedly at the Guardian of the Way. “I trust you to have your best people on this. I want you to use all possible resources. Find her.”
“You have my assurance she will be found.”
“You have my trust in this, but make it soon.” The Grand Patriarch waved his hand in casual dismissal. “I know you have many important tasks before you, my friend. You have my permission to take your leave.”
“I thank you for your trust,” Talin bowed deeply to his leader and left the room.
The Grand Patriarch leaned forward in his chair and took up the snifter once more. He held it, staring at it with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He became mesmerized by slowly turning it, watching the facets of the cut crystal catch the subdued lighting. The snifter rotated slowly, reflecting and flashing light, the polished planes in a constant state of movement.
CHAPTER 40
The shrine rotated slowly, reflecting and flashing light, the polished planes in a constant state of movement. They made no sound. The ancient mechanism had operated without interruption for thousands of years and was constructed to continue its mysterious movements for thousands more. Twelve kilometers down, directly below the shrine in a large circular, dimly lit room a naked body rested on a raised oval pedestal.
A subdued, azure light reflected off the shiny surfaces of room’s contents. These reflections came from metallic spheres of various sizes that ranged around the pedestal. Some of the spheres hung suspended, without apparent visible support, while others extended from the walls and ceiling on articulated arms or telescoping rods. Along the wall were a number of randomly placed panels. The panels were studded with oddly-shaped levers, switches, gauges and winking lights.
Two silvery, head-sized spheres soundlessly lowered from the room’s ceiling and settled just above the body’s torso, one at the chest and one at the area of the solar plexus. Two smaller spheres, shimmering gold in color, rose fluidly on thin flexible rods extending from slots opening in the floor on either side of the pedestal. They sinuously positioned themselves at the head of the body, almost touching the temples. Without a sound, other spheres within the room began to move in closer to the body. They changed positions and angles, retracting or extending as if guided by invisible hands. The body was barely visible behind the crowding mass of spheres.
When the last sphere became motionless, the lighting changed in both color and strength. Colors of varying intensities and hues began to strobe across the body’s flesh. Not a sound was produced by the enigmatic ballet of dancing lights. It was over in a few seconds. The flashing colors disappeared and indirect lighting was again gently illuminating the room’s interior. With the return of the azure light, another change had taken place within the room. The walls were now blank, featureless; no panel marred their surface. All of the spheres save one, retracted back into the walls, ceiling and floor. The one that remained, glowed with a warm white light. It hung motionlessly at the foot of the pedestal, suspended by unseen energies. The body on the pedestal stirred.
Owens slowly returned to consciousness. Fuzzily, he became aware that he was lying down, flat on his back. He lay there for a while, trying to remember what had happened. His mind felt sluggish, as if he was waking from a long sleep. Try as he might, he could only recall that he had been talking to Sharné when he experienced a bright flash of light, then nothing more until he awoke.
As his alertness sharpened, he became aware of a gentle flow of comfortably warm air caressing his body. He had a vague feeling of soreness, as if as if he had engaged in some strenuous physical exertion. He cautiously opened his eyes to the barest of slits. All he could make out was that he appeared to be in a dimly lit room.
Now fully awake, it dawned on him that he was no longer outside, on the planet’s surface. Automatically, he began to consider his situation. Believing that it was likely that he was being observed, he chose to remain still. Warily, he opened his eyes a little wider and allowed them to wander at random as if he was only just beginning to rouse.
He saw he was in a large room and the wall and ceiling in his field of vision were curved. He listened for any sound, but heard nothing. He ignored an impulse to move and instead continued to evaluate his condition. Other than the dim ache in his body, he seemed unharmed, but whatever had been done to him could have some other side-effect. Ignoring the urge to sit up, he took further stock of his body and surroundings.
He was laying flat. The surface he was resting on seemed firm but slightly yielding. He had no trouble maintaining an easy and natural breathing pattern. There was no real pain that he could feel and even the slight discomfort he had originally felt was already beginning to fade. He lightly clenched his fists and slowly wriggled his toes. So far, everything felt right; all seemed normal except for his mysterious surroundings and the fact that he had just noticed that he was naked.
Still trying to appear disorientated, he put on a confused expression and turned his head from side to side while his eyes explored the rest of the room. As far as he could see, no one else was in the room. Then, deciding he had nothing more to gain by staying still, he raised his head and looked down at his feet. He was mildly surprised to see that the only thing in the room, besides him and whatever he was lying on, was a single softly glowing sphere.
Seeing no physical restraints, Owens slowly raised himself on one elbow and looked closer at his body. The membrane bandage covering the shallow wounds on his chest was gone, along with the wounds. He could discern no scars; the skin was smooth and unblemished. Nothing else seemed amiss. He raised both knees slightly off the platform and was gratified to note he was not restrained by a tangle-field either.
A soft voice began to speak. **Be at ease. No harm will befall you in this place.**
Owens sat up and looked around. He was still alone in the room. “Who is speaking?”
**We are the Controller.**
“Where are you?”
**We are not physically present in this chamber. We are speaking to you through the mechanism within this vessel.**
Owens saw the sphere bob up and down once. He looked closer at the shining ball of light. There were no markings he could see, just a glowing, featureless ball a little less than a meter in diameter. “You identified yourself as the Controller. Are you with the Golstar government?”
**No. We are a part of this facility, a linked machine mind. Our presence on this and other planets within this system spans thousands of your human-reckoned years.** Before Owens could ask anything further, the Controller went on, **We regret that we cannot provide you further explanation. Without certain conditions being met, we are limited in what we can provide.**
“I see,” he said, but he didn’t. He found it a little odd that he wasn’t frightened or the least bit nervous by the mysterious presence of the Controller. In fact, he felt quite the opposite. He was totally relaxed, almost sleepy. He vaguely wondered if he was reacting to some side-effect from an anesthetic. He addressed his question to the sphere. “Have I been drugged?”
**No. However, another mechanism within this vessel is producing subliminal frequencies outside of your range of conscious hearing. In combination with a benign form of radiation, these frequencies have been found to be soothing to humans and have been used to relieve anxiety in your species.**
Owens blinked and vaguely looked around the room again. “Can you tell me where I am and why am I here?”
**You were removed from the planet’s surface for your protection. You are presently sit
uated in a healing chamber within an underground facility.**
A number of questions came to Owens’ mind, but he was hard-pressed to put the words together. Finally, he asked, “My protection?”
**Humans armed with energy weapons were positioned in your vicinity on the planet’s surface. It was determined their intent was to cause you bodily harm. When you were fired upon, we shielded you from most of the weapons’ discharges. You were rendered unconscious and your death was simulated. To the other humans, it appeared their weapons were effective.**
Owens wondered why this Controller had intervened. Before he could frame the question, the Controller continued.
**You were later subjected to an additional energy discharge, but as you remained in our protective field, there was no further harm. When you were left unattended, out of direct human observation, your body was transported here, your superficial wounds were healed and biological functions were fully reactivated.**
“But why…” he yawned. “Why did you save me?”
**As a descendant of General Golan Berral Light, you are afforded our protection under the Compact.**
The Controller’s declaration came as a distant shock. It took Owens some time to assimilate the statement. His mind still felt sluggish. Finally, he said, “I don’t recall being a descendant of General Light and I don’t know anything about a Compact.” Still trying to focus his thoughts, Owens waited for the Controller to respond. The silence stretched and Owens was about to break it when the Controller answered.
**Your tissues were sampled when you approached this complex. Microscopic samples were obtained remotely using the same transfer technology employed to bring you to this chamber. All beings are sampled when they cross the outer defense boundary. Allowing for your heavy-gravity mutations, you possess the requisite number of genetic markers to invoke a unique exemption within the Compact.**
Owens hesitated, still trying to clear his head, “What exactly, is the Compact?”
The Controller did not respond to Owens’ question. Instead it said, **Please recite the access key code.**
“A key code? I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re talking about.
**The information that you request cannot be provided without the proper access key code.**
“Well then, is there anything that you can you tell me?”
**As an additional measure to ensure your safety, this planet’s defensive systems were deactivated on your arrival on the surface.**
Damn it, he was having trouble focusing. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, “Uh.., you mean the Sentinels? You turned them off.”
**Yes, along with a number of other defenses. Your heritage provides you with special, though limited protections, under the Compact. The Guardian units were modified long ago for exclusive human command and control. Therefore, the only alternative was to override the on-board power components temporarily.**
That explained why the inactive Sentinels looked like they had suddenly been switched-off, because they had been. As he started to frame his next question, he was nagged by a distant awareness that his mind still felt a little out of focus. He had thought to ask whether the Controller had anything to do with the strange feelings that he had experienced just before he was shot, but he still lacked clarity and was having difficulty finding the right words.
As he struggled with the question, he gradually came to the realization he was asking questions out of habit. He wasn’t overly concerned about the answers. He yawned widely, his feeling of relaxation now bordered on lethargy. Something still nagged at the back of his mind. He knew he should be feeling some sense of urgency, not this sleepy, lazy feeling of contentment. If the Controller were to be believed, the entity had saved his life. But something was wrong; he still didn’t feel right. What had the Controller said about the sound waves?
It slowly dawned on him that he was somehow being tranquilized. Could it be the sound waves that the Controller mentioned earlier? In the strongest voice he could muster, he said, “Controller, I’m not comfortable with being exposed to these subliminal sounds. You said you are acting in my best interest. If that’s true, then please turn it off now.”
**We did not intend for it to cause you distress. We apologize; you are not accustomed to this form of therapy. We will therefore comply with your request. The emitters have been turned off.**
Immediately, it felt like a fog was lifted from his mind. His senses became sharper and a familiar feeling of alert caution quickly asserted itself. He was back to normal. Now with his head clear, he reviewed his conversation with the Controller. While under the globe’s influence, what had he missed?
“Controller, just before I was shot, I experienced an unusual sensation. It was if I was being drawn to a certain location. Were you responsible?
**Yes. You were drawn to the Messenger for your protection.**
“Messenger? Please explain.”
**It is an artifact designed to draw the attention of intelligent life forms within its vicinity. Its physical appearance was designed to be intriguing to the ocular appendages of other intelligences. It presents a pleasing kinetic display of universal shapes and colors. It broadcasts a beacon over a broad spectrum of energy bands. It also contains a number of different communication and translator devices. It can establish communications using light, sound and other sensory mediums.**
At least he hadn’t been going crazy, he thought. As he pondered his follow-up question, he was again drawn to his stark surroundings. Looking around at the featureless walls, he was bothered by something he was forgetting, something very important. A feeling of alarm grew as tried to remember what it was that eluded him. Then it suddenly dawned on him that he was alone. A wave of nausea lapped against his stomach. How could he have forgotten? He almost shouted, “Sharné, what about Sharné? The woman, the woman who was with me, was she injured? Is she all right?”
**The female human is unhurt. She did not have a sufficient number of genetic markers to match the profile map for the protections proscribed under the Compact. However, direct intervention was unnecessary. She remains uninjured and her biological processes are viable. She is in good health.**
He felt an immediate sense of relief and then a thought struck him. “Can you bring her here on my behalf, transporting her like you did me? For my sense of well-being, I would like to see for myself that she’s safe. My concern for her safety is a human trait."
**That is permissible.**
Owens looked down at himself and quickly said, “Wait! You’re sure that she’s alright, there is no immediate threat?”
**That is correct.**
“Then don’t bring her here just yet. First, is there any way that I can get my clothes back? I would feel a lot more comfortable if I was wearing something when she arrived.”
**The human requirement for external coverings is well understood and your request will be honored. Your original over-garment was severely damaged. The material used in its construction was found to be well below acceptable standards, for your protection. We have taken the liberty of constructing a new garment for your use.**
Owens had been looking at the shining orb when he felt something brush across his legs. He looked down and found a mound of satiny gray-green material lying across his legs. “Decent service, at least,” he muttered.
He picked up the clothing and swung his legs toward the side of the platform. He hopped off the platform and landed lightly on the floor. It too was slightly yielding and Owens surmised the floor was comprised of the same material as that of the platform’s surface. Again, he was gratified to note he felt perfectly normal. He couldn’t detect any dizziness or weakness. He rotated his injured arm. He felt no pain or stiffness. In fact, he felt better than he had in some time.
He held out the new garment and saw it followed the same general design as his survival suit, only the material was quite different. It seemed both lighter and softer, and had a subdued shine he hoped wouldn’t reflect light. A
set of underwear, indistinguishable from what he had been wearing, had also been provided. He put the clothes on and found that the new survival suit fit better than the original. Just below the knees, the suit’s pant legs seamlessly transitioned into a pair of boots. He found them as comfortable as the rest of the suit.
There was a rustling sound and he saw that the survival gear he had carried in the old suit was sitting in a tidy pile on the platform along with his backpack.
**Your equipment appears serviceable. Upgrades were not necessary. You will find your new body covering is, however, vastly superior to the original one you wore. In addition to duplicating the survival characteristics of the original, the material in the replacement garment will provide an added degree of protection from energy weapon discharges, up to level five.**
Owens was finishing replacing his gear in the suit's numerous pockets. “It’s more comfortable too. You’ve sold me. But I’m not familiar with that rating system. What’s a level five?”
**The hand weapons that were discharged against you were rated at a level three. Each higher level of weapon classification will result in a greater degree of damage from its discharge. Does that aid your understanding?**
Owens whistled. He patted the suit and said, “Not bad, I’ll take a half-dozen.” The Controller did not respond. No sense of humor, Owens thought. He said, “Okay, now can you bring Sharné here.”
Owens didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t for her arrival to occur as it did. One second he was standing in the room, alone, the next second she was in the room with her back to him slowly getting to her feet and rubbing her wrists.
She looked up, suddenly realizing that her surroundings had changed. She put a hand to her mouth and stared at the featureless wall, obviously trying to comprehend what had just happened. She heard a quiet rustling behind her. Not knowing what to expect, she steeled herself and suddenly turned to confront whoever, or whatever it was.
Shadows of Golstar Page 44