Shadows of Golstar

by Terrence Scott

  Talin masked his surprise, “Further developments?”

  Grand Patriarch’s tone of voice was dismissive, “Yes, I will explain them to you later this evening. I will call for you when it is time.”

  Talin nodded. He knew better than to pursue the subject any further.

  “In the meantime,” Grand Patriarch continued, “the plan’s overall premise remains feasible. The pretext of the missing statue should allow him to investigate, at least to the limited degree that we have planned. This should put him at ease, performing the familiar tasks of his profession.”

  Talin added, “The accident we have prepared will render him unconscious and the small injury he will incur as a result should account for any loss of blood and tissue.”

  “Yes,” the Grand Patriarch agreed. “Even with all that has happened, it should still be possible to keep Janus Owens unaware of the underlying purpose of his visit.”

  “Perhaps even the attack on the Light Saber will work in our favor. We can claim it was the work of those who stole the statue,” the Guardian suggested.

  “An interesting suggestion, I will think on it.” The Grand Patriarch paused, “It makes it all the more important I discuss with Sharné her observations of him during the crisis. She should be able to shed light on Janus Owens’ perception on what happened.”

  “In any event, the medical staff will be ready when the time comes. The special equipment is being prepared.”

  “Good, we are coming nearer to our goal, but keep in mind that all of our preparations hinge on Owens’ survival.”

  Talin assured his leader, “He will be protected using every trusted resource at my disposal. My forces have been triple-screened and possess the highest qualifications for this assignment. As we are so close to our goal, I have left nothing to chance. To fail now is unthinkable.” He kept his true thoughts well hidden.

  “Yes,” the Grand Patriarch agreed. “It is quite unthinkable.”

  The Guardian of the Way bowed deeply and said, “With your permission, I will take my leave and begin final preparations.”

  “Of course, and Talin, please have word sent to my daughter; I will meet her in the Rose Sitting Room in one hour.”

  Talin replied that he would personally notify her, and then left the Grand Patriarch alone to ponder the future of the Golstar.

  ● ● ●

  Sharné arrived early and was sitting in one of the room’s two high-backed chairs. She was facing a large, wide window overlooking the palace gardens. She took a sip of her tea trying to contain her growing nervousness. She had had time to reflect on how she would approach her father and after thinking it through, knew she could not directly confront him with her discoveries.

  She would have to be careful not to place him on the defensive. While he was a kind and thoughtful man, his volatile temper was well known within the Palace. She personally witnessed a few of his outbursts when confronted with differing views on some of his policies. His intolerance for ‘unthinking reactionary fools’ made her plan the best way to broach her conclusions about the false symbol of their faith.

  She heard the click of a latch, and turning, saw her father enter the room. She hesitated for only a moment then threw herself into his welcoming arms. He stroked her hair, his voice gentle, “Sharné, I thank the Founder you are finally home once more and safe.”

  She looked up at him, “It is wonderful to be home.”

  His voice grew husky, “There was a time when I thought I had truly lost you. I believe it was my darkest moment since the day your mother passed away.”

  “Father, I am so sorry I could not send word earlier of my survival. As you have likely been informed, the mutineers blocked our transmissions. You could not know we were alive and I can only imagine what you must have felt.”

  “Sharné,” he said, “my feelings are nothing compared to what you must have endured. Seeing you here before me has vanquished all of my sorrow. I feel only happiness now I know that you are safe.”

  She smiled. “You should know I could not have been better protected during the ordeal. Janus Owens saved my life many times over. His true abilities are just hinted at in his dossier. Only by his strength and courage did I survive. I confess that without him, I would have perished.”

  The Grand Patriarch noticed a slight change in her voice when she talked of Janus Owens. He sensed admiration and perhaps something else. He beamed at her, “As I suspected, he is a man of many qualities, but even I did not expect he would play a principal role in keeping my very own daughter alive. As a father, I will personally thank him and as the Grand Patriarch, I will commend him. Now let me have a look at you.” He stood back from her and gazed at her with a critical eye.

  He rubbed his chin. “It seems you did not come through your adventure completely unscathed. You have lost some weight and I cannot help but notice that those dark circles beneath your eyes do not appear the result of misapplied cosmetics.”

  Her hand went to her noticeably thinner face. She smiled, “It is nothing a few hot meals and a comfortable bed cannot quickly remedy.”

  He nodded and motioned for her to sit. “Thankfully, that looks to be true. However, since you now mention it yourself, would you prefer to rest a little more before we talk of your experiences?”

  “No, Father,” she said shaking her head. “It is much too important to delay for a few hours of sleep. I feel the need to talk about this before I can truly rest.”

  “Very well, then talk we shall,” he said, taking the chair opposite Sharné’s. “I too believe it is important.” He saw she was about to speak and he raised a hand to forestall her words. “You will please begin at the beginning, from the time you arrived at the rendezvous point to meet Janus Owens. I want you to take your time; I wish to hear every detail. It is important that I know everything.”

  She stopped, seeing the wisdom in his request and reorganized her thoughts. She noted that his tone had changed. At that moment, he was more the Grand Patriarch than her father. She took a careful sip from her cup, then after replacing it on the small table, she began to tell him of her first meeting with Owens.

  Her father sat back, his eyes resting on her face and listened intently, only interrupting from time to time with a question. She spoke for a long time, going through a number of cups of tea while in the process of describing the horrific destruction of the Light Saber and their subsequent escape on the Sherlock Holmes.

  Throughout, other than his few questions, her father remained reflective. He would nod at one point of her narrative or another, and smile encouragingly from time-to-time. As she talked, the words gradually came easier, but she remained on-guard, careful to edit out Hec’s sentience and the romantic aspect of her budding relationship with Owens.

  Her Father seemed to be particularly interested in the discussion that took place between she and Owens aboard the Holmes. She made a side comment about hating to lie to Owens. Her father immediately replied that it was the correct tactic and she should not be ashamed of small transgressions when it was to achieve a far greater good.

  He said, “Your explanation for the condition of the ships was nothing less than brilliant. I underestimated Owens’ inquisitiveness. By your quick thinking, you have protected our prestige in spite of my own lack of foresight.”

  “Thank you, Father,” she said and felt a little of the guilt lift. Then she continued with the tale. When she at last came to describe their decision to head for Selane, he straightened in his seat, his eyes gazing at her intently, more focused on her words.

  “So,” he said. “It was at your urging that Janus Owens guided his ship to Selane.”

  “Yes Father, it seemed the only place where we could find a haven given that his ship’s condition prevented us from reaching subspace.”

  “Ah… Talin and I suspected that it was you who suggested Selane. Again, you thought quickly and wisely.”

  “So you agree I was right in this?”

  “Yes, you m
ade the correct decision, and as a result it certainly forestalled your destruction.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  “No, it is I who should thank you. I see my faith in you was not misplaced.” He stood up and stretched. “This seems as good a point as any to pause. I will call for refreshments, then if you feel up to it, you may resume your description of what is becoming quite the epic adventure.” He gave her a small smile and pressed an unobtrusive button on the arm of his chair.

  Before long, a steward knocked discretely at the door. Having been given permission to enter, a lanky young man in an immaculate white tunic walked into the room, pushing a food-laden cart before him.

  Her father smiled at her surprised expression, “I anticipated this would take some time, so I took the liberty of arranging in advance, a light supper to fortify us through the rest of the evening.”

  The smells wafting from the food whetted her appetite. She was hungrier than she had realized. “Truly, you are the Grand Patriarch,” she teased.

  They smiled, and then allowed the steward to serve them. Their meal was eaten in companionable silence. When Sharné confessed she could eat no more, her father signaled again for the steward. He arrived quickly, cleared the plates with silent efficiency and after leaving a fresh pot of tea and decanter of wine, departed just as speedily.

  Holding a glass of his favorite wine, her father said, “If you are ready, please continue.”

  Sharné once more took up the thread of the story. She described the Holmes’ screaming entry into Selane’s atmosphere and continued on through to the attack of the teddy bear-like animals.

  “I did not know that I raised a warrior,” he chuckled. “It took courage to fire on that pack of predators.” His voice sobered, “You saved his life and in doing so, saved our people’s future. You must be tired of hearing me say this, but I must do so again. I am very proud of you.”

  His praise made her blush, “Really Father it just happened. I did not have time to think... I simply reacted.”

  She then paused looking at her father. “Father, did the admiral inform you of the location on Selane where he found us?” Her nervousness returned.

  He took a sip of his wine. “As a matter of fact, he did. I did find it curious that you ended your trek near the old and revered shrine established during the Founding.”

  She studied him as he spoke the words in a matter-of-fact manner. To her eyes, he gave no indication of anything other than a look of mild curiosity.

  This was her opportunity, she thought. Soon, the damning disclosures of the Controller and the spheres would be brought to light. She would leave nothing out except her interactions with Owens. With this resolve, she returned to her story.

  She began describing Owens’ sudden unexplained sensations of being observed, being drawn to the location of the shrine. Her father asked no questions, his expression unremarkable. So she continued without interruption, next describing the attack that apparently took Owens’ life, all the while darting furtive glances to gauge her father’s reaction. He still seemed unaffected by her narrative.

  It was not until she began to describe her miraculous transportation into the underground complex did she notice a change in him. His eyes took on a hardness she had rarely seen before and his lips became noticeably thinner as if he were pressing them tightly. Seeing her father’s suppressed reaction, her nervousness returned. It became harder for Sharné to speak. Her mouth had become dry and she began to stumble over her words. Finally, she finished the tale. Her father did not say a word during this last, most incredible part of her story.

  After a few uncomfortable moments of silence, his expression relaxed. Taking a sip of his wine, he gazed abstractedly out the window. Without looking at her, he said, “Well, that was hardly the manner in which I would have chosen for your introduction into our most closely kept secret.”

  “A secret you kept from me,” she said quietly.

  He looked at her, studying her face. With a rueful note in his voice, he said, “That particular revelation was not to be revealed for a few years yet to come. I had hoped to have you better prepared.” He sighed, “But I suppose what is done, is done.”

  “Preparation for what exactly, Father? I am, after all, a grown woman. I hold the office of Keeper of the Way with all the requisite training to execute the office’s responsibilities. What more preparation could I possibly require?”

  He looked pained. “Your high position notwithstanding, your education was less than it might have been. You have not been inculcated with the Doctrine of the Mysteries.”

  She could not keep the surprise out of her voice, “The Doctrine of the Mysteries? What is this doctrine? I confess this is the first that I have heard of it.”

  “It is well that you have not. It is restricted to those who have gone through the prescribed rituals and oaths. They may speak of it, but only within the circle of those initiated. To speak of the Mysteries outside of the circle would lead to the severest of consequences. Given the nature of your recent exposure to them, I may exercise a certain degree latitude.”

  Sharné looked down at her hands. “May I ask who are the initiated?”

  “Of course, given what you now know, it is appropriate. Key members of all the ruling families undergo the initiation.”

  “I still fail to understand, Father. Why was I not included?

  “That is a story of its own and it is best put aside for another, more appropriate time.” The royal command in voice was unmistakable. “This current discussion has progressed as far as I will allow. You will learn more soon; however, it will be when I deem it appropriate.”

  She felt her own temper begin to flare. “I see, but I have already gained more knowledge, Father.”

  The sudden hardness in his voice was evident. “Oh?”

  “Yes,” she answered. She knew that she continued to tread on dangerous ground, but she would not back down. “I believe I understand more than the Controller may have intended to reveal.”

  He just looked at her, his stern expression fading. His face was now shaded towards that of mild interest.

  Breathing a little easier, she told him of Owens’ experience with the Controller and mood-altering function of the glowing sphere. “Father, it looked identical to the smaller light globes found aboard our ships’ chapels.” She hesitated. “In fact, the Grand Light globe we have in the Cathedral of Light looks the same but just on a far greater scale.”

  “I see,” he said slowly. “And what conclusion do you draw from this?”

  “To me, it appears obvious. The Orbs of the Light, the very symbols of our faith are not truly inspirational icons, are they, Father? Rather, they must be instruments of control, designed by non-humans, are they not?”

  He did not answer, a look of mild consternation his only reply.

  She rushed on, “The globes transmit subliminal sounds and radiation, do they not? These emanations somehow influence the human mind. When worshipers talk of revelation or healing, they trust that it has come from the Light, the sacred spirit of the Light of the Way.” She hesitated, fearing his reaction.

  Finally she said, “But that cannot be true, can it, Father? Given what I have so recently learned, it cannot. Instead, those feelings of comfort and hope are false. They are artificially generated and must originate from a cold unfeeling machine, an alien construct.” Her last words came out more bitter than she had intended. She searched his face for a reaction and was crestfallen to observe no surprise or even a hint of regret.

  He raised his hand to halt her next words, “You must be careful Sharné, so very careful.” There was genuine concern in his voice. “You truly know little of what you now speak. Your brief glimpse during your stay on Selane has provided you nothing of the true nature of the circumstances by which we live. You must not allow incomplete information and superfluous emotionalism cloud your mind’s eye. As my daughter, as the Keeper of the Way, I would expect this of you.”

  S
he stood up. “Then please tell me, Father, tell me. Tell me that the alien machines are not used to control peoples’ minds. Please, help me to understand.”

  He rose from his chair. His expression softened. “I cannot, at least not now, at this very moment. There are more urgent matters that require my immediate attention.”

  She cried in consternation, “What could be more urgent?”

  He looked her in mild surprise. “Why surely you must already know.” He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, “Think a moment, daughter. Think about all of what you have just told me.” He opened his eyes and again looked at her.

  She was at first confused, and then belatedly it dawned on her what she had just revealed. Amidst all of her recent adventures, budding romance and subsequent revelations, she overlooked the most obvious outcome from sharing their experiences on Selane.

  He nodded, “Ah, so you do begin to see it. The urgent matters of which I speak are all related to our newly arrived guest, Janus Owens. He, a citizen of Confederated Planets, has been exposed to our most precious secret. A secret, were it to be revealed, would tear our society apart; a secret so vital that should he inform his government of it; our very survival would be threatened.”

  She looked at him, unable to find any words.

  He gave her a look of real regret. “This series of unfortunate circumstances has effectively bound my hands in this matter.”

  She knew where this was leading, but she forced herself to ask anyway, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, through no fault of your own, your decision to land on Selane has ultimately forced me to abandon my plan altogether.” He shook his head sadly. “Instead of being allowed to conduct the investigation to recover the stolen statue, a mystery of my own device, Janus Owens must now be immediately placed in custody and kept in total isolation until I can determine what next must be done.”

  He smacked his fist into his palm, “To have come so far in achieving our goal only to now find that all of our plans are rendered useless is… distressing to say the least.”