He looked at her, his face now infused with a look of impotent anger. He then rose, turned and walked out of the sitting room, slamming the door behind him. He did not witness his daughter collapsing into her chair, a look of growing horror marring her perfect features.
● ● ●
The Grand Patriarch strode angrily down the hall, his two guards trailing him at a discrete distance. Fuming, he thought of all the wasted time, resources and lives that had been expended in the name of the plan, his plan. For a moment, he considered that perhaps Talin had been right. He had proposed straight-forward abduction over the elaborate ruse. However, the notion quickly passed.
No, he thought. The chance of discovery had been too great. It was better that they made the overt request to Confederated Planets with a well-hidden agenda. ‘Hiding in plain sight’ was the ancient term. Yes, his approach was far better than chancing even the remote discovery of a kidnapping perpetrated by agents of Golstar.
Granted there had been some illegal activities conducted, but the necessary data thefts had been executed with minimal risk since his agents were conditioned to vaporize themselves in the event that anything went wrong. In activities where Janus Owen was directly involved, such a drastic measure as a kidnapping could not be considered and the increased risk of injury to Janus Owens had such an attempt failed was simply too great.
But the Grand Patriarch had not foreseen the mutiny and attack on the Light Saber. Janus Owens and his daughter had come so very close to death. He had first thought it providential they had landed on Selane. It was a key factor to their ultimate survival. Unfortunately, there was also an unforeseen price of that survival. Janus Owens and his daughter stumbled onto Golstar’s ultimate secret.
His elaborate plans were rendered useless with their unintentional discovery of the underground complex. He was thankful at least that the Controller had intervened. But why had it revealed itself? The Compact should have prevented such an admission, yet his daughter said that the Controller had referenced the Compact as its rationale to intercede. This mystery could wait; his more immediate concern was how to handle this new situation.
His pace increased as his mind wrestled with the problem. There still might be a way to salvage the ultimate goal. Some elements of his grand strategy would have to be accelerated. However, his unique plan for Owens would be abandoned altogether. All pretenses for requesting Janus Owens as a private investigator would be dropped.
He came to a quick resolution. Yes, he thought, it should be a simple matter. Janus Owens will send a ‘progress report’ to Confederated Planets. In it, he will indicate the assignment was found to be most difficult and therefore taking longer than anticipated. Later, it would be reported that Janus Owens had met with an unfortunate, but fatal accident.
Of course Confederated Planets would not believe the lie for a moment, but coupled with the initial delay resulting from Janus Owens’ status report, a comfortable interval should still be achieved. That should allow for sufficient time to prepare against the possible reprisals from Confederated Planets, if they were to rediscover their courage and decide to act.
The Grand Patriarch reached the familiar door and entered his personal quarters. The two guards took up station in the hallway on either side of the threshold. He walked over and sat down at a great wooden desk. He absently stroked the carved pattern on the chair’s arm as he voice-recorded a message and sent it to Sharné’s personal communicator. In it, he notified her that due to heightened security, she would be temporarily confined to her suites. He went on to assure her it would only be for a short while.
He touched a pressure pad beneath the desk and a square opened on the desk’s writing surface, revealing a panel with numerous buttons. He touched one and a voice from a hidden speaker immediately answered his summons.
He instructed the head of his personal guard to locate his daughter and if not in her quarters, escort her there directly. The Grand Patriarch further instructed that guards should be posted at the entrance and that no one would enter or exit her rooms without his express permission.
With that task completed, his thoughts returned to the modifications necessary to his strategy. He must now act quickly. He pushed back from the desk and considered his next move.
CHAPTER 46
The woman dressed in a faded day-shift sat alone in a darkened apartment. The blue-glow of an ancient, hardwired communications console reflected harshly against the woman’s face, emphasizing the lines around her mouth and eyes. Minister Joselé perched before a battered terminal. She frowned at the flickering display and wondered if it would function long enough for her to access the Preservers’ secure communications gateway. Fearing its imminent failure, she tapped the code into the worn touch-screen. She fidgeted impatiently as she waited for a response.
Finally, a prompt appeared on its marred surface and she quickly keyed the current password. To her dismay, the screen blanked. She was relieved when the display brightened once more with an image of crossed, blazing swords, the symbol of the Preservers of the Way. She saw the urgent message icon winking in the lower corner. She accessed the icon and a message from the Leader appeared on the display. Her brows knitted as she leaned toward the screen. It was difficult to discern the words on the flickering monitor but not impossible. She slowly read the message.
Brethren,
I bring you important news. The Grand Patriarch’s agent of darkness has finally arrived. As I write this, he is being conveyed, under heavy guard, to the palace. I need not tell you the time has come to put an end to the Grand Patriarch’s madness.
Based on recent information, I have taken it upon myself to develop a new strategy, one that will ensure a final victory. I will share my stratagem with all sub-leaders and their lieutenants at a mandatory gathering to be held tomorrow at the old school building on Radiance Way, following the evening Service at nine chimes. It is imperative that you attend so your roles can be affirmed.
Together, we will once again be united in fulfilling the Founder’s vision. In His eternal Light shall we be triumphant.
She reread the terse message. She straightened in her chair and nodded to herself. The news was indeed important. The outsider was on Berralton. A grim smile creased her features.
A man’s voice startled her, “Good news?”
She spun in her chair, her eyes searching for its source in the room’s darkness. She saw a dark silhouette of a man and fear embedded its icy talons into her breast. She started to turn back to the terminal. She had to purge the message before it could be read by the intruder. A hand suddenly grabbed her wrist with a vice-like grip. Someone else had entered unnoticed. The man who had spoken began to walk towards her, the glow from the terminal gradually illuminating him as he came nearer.
Her eyes widened in horrified recognition.
CHAPTER 47
Owens sat wedged between two armed men. They were traveling in a military transport as part of a five-vehicle convoy. The transport’s shielded windows afforded a limited view of the countryside. Their convoy encountered little traffic as it sped down the wide avenue. It was late at night but a large moon and a smaller companion high in the sky provided a surprising amount of light. Still, there had been little to see.
Since leaving the spaceport, all he could make out was what looked to be sparse vegetation and dry looking expanses of earth. It was quite dessert-like. But as they traveled on, the vegetation gradually grew lusher and from time to time, an occasional building would flash by.
They had traveled some twenty minutes before he saw an abrupt change in the scenery. The vegetation gave way to a now constant stream of structures and pedestrian walkways; they reached the outskirts of a city. He asked his companions its name. As he was coming to expect, they remained silent, pointedly ignoring his question.
He shrugged and resumed looking out at the planet Berralton. The buildings grew in both size and density. Although it was late, the number of pedestrians and vehicl
es on the street seemed unusually small. The convoy continued to fly down the almost deserted streets, its speed unabated. It took another hour of travel before the vehicles finally began to slow. He saw they were approaching a huge, ornate complex of tall buildings. Their architecture reminded him of an ancient 2-D graphic of old earth’s Buckingham Palace, only these buildings were built to a much grander scale and surrounded by a high wall.
They neared the wall and the transports slowed further as they closed on the huge entrance. It had no gate, but looking through the opening, he could make out the slight distortion caused by an active force-field. He looked along the length of the wall and could see that it like-wise had the telltale shimmer. They don’t seem to trust their own citizens, he thought. The transports stopped. His vehicle’s doors opened and one of his escorts got out and motioned Owens to follow.
He was led to a featureless block of a building abutting the wall near the entrance. There were more guards in elaborate uniforms standing at spaced intervals around the building. Twin doors slid into their casements and Owens recognized that the interior appeared to be that of a freight lift. Two more guards were waiting inside. Sure enough he was led into the lift. His escort jabbed at a panel; the doors swished closed and a green display began counting off levels. They traveled down ten levels before the doors again opened.
They walked out onto a gray, tiled platform. He could see they were in a small underground transit station. Adjacent to the platform, a three-car tram, with its doors open, was resting on a single, shiny ribbon of metal. Two of his original escorts exited the lift and looked back at him to follow. The other two guards remained in the lift. His escorts then led him to the nearest tram car and they entered, sitting down in plush, red velvet-covered seats. He saw they were not alone; two more guards were already sitting in adjacent seats. Without any overt signal, the tram began to move, heading towards a tunnel lit with a dotted string of white lights.
The trip was short and not unlike other public transports Owens taken on other assignments. He soon found himself on another lift, elevating to fifty levels above street-level and then being hustled through a cathedral-like throne room and into another smaller, connecting room. The guards silently departed, shutting the solid doors behind them, leaving him alone.
As he stood on thick carpeting, his eyes took in his surroundings. The room was dominated by a long, massive wooden table. Its dark smooth surface was inlaid with crystals, creating elaborate, baroque patterns. The numerous leather-covered chairs positioned around the table were equally massive. The room’s walls were paneled in gray, polished stone, each section skillfully carved in bas relief. He noted that each carving was unique. One depicted a number of space ships resting in a valley, while others portrayed scenes of people farming, working construction and other common endeavors. There was a long, wooden sideboard along one of the walls. On it was a silver tray with decanters filled with amber and ruby hued liquids accompanied by two crystal wine glasses.
He looked thoughtfully at the wine and wondered about the way he had been treated since leaving Selane. So far, his clients had been less than gracious hosts. What the hell, he thought, and helped himself to the red wine. He took a tentative swallow and was pleasantly surprised. He pulled one out chairs, sat down, took another appreciative sip and looked about the room again.
To him, it resembled a boardroom, albeit one different than he had ever encountered, but a boardroom nonetheless. Well, he smiled down at his drink, there was plenty of wine to help wile away the time as he waited for whatever would happen next.
As it was, he didn’t have long to wait. He had barely finished half of his wine when the old fashioned wooden door swung open and a tall man strode into the room. He caught the flash of uniformed guards before the door closed. Owens immediately started to rise.
The man said, “Sit down, Janus Owens. I do not have the time to waste on ceremony.” He then walked straight over to the sideboard and poured a glass from the amber-filled decanter. Taking his drink, he went to the head of the table and sat down. He took a generous sip and smiled as the liquor warmed its way to his stomach. He was silent for a moment, seemingly content to savor his drink.
Owens studied the man. He was tall, only about four inches shorter than Owens. Silvering at the temples, his red hair was worn long, brushing his wide shoulders. He wore a white robe, heavily patterned in silver and gold brocade. Owens couldn’t discern the color of the eyes that were staring at him with frank, equal interest. There was something vaguely familiar about the man.
“Now that we have taken our measure of each other, we can move on to more important matters. First, I will tell you that I am the leader of Golstar. My title is that of ‘Grand Patriarch.’ You may address me simply as Patriarch. I alone am the one responsible for you being here. If you have not been told, you are in Golan, the capital city of Berralton and Golstar’s seat of government. This edifice you now find yourself in is the capital palace named, Founder’s Stone. It is here where our great forefather set the first keystone of the colony.”
Owens dared to ask a question. “Patriarch, you are saying this is where the Founder first landed?”
The Grand Patriarch stared at Owens, seeming to weigh the question, “Actually, no.” His smile was grim. “The colony fleet was held back while the Founder made the preliminary incursion into this system. The first planet that he stood upon was the planet he named after his wife, Selane. I believe you are somewhat familiar with the planet.” Then he added, “But you already suspected that did you not?”
Before Owens could comment, the Grand Patriarch went on, “As you can now imagine, it holds a significant place in the hearts of our people.” He paused, and then said, “However, I am sure our history is not in the forefront of your thoughts. But, in order to explain the reason for you being here, some historical background will be necessary.”
“Patriarch, I admit I do have some questions,” Owens said. “But, from my professional perspective, background information is always helpful to put things in their proper context. Such information can only help in my investigation.” Whatever it may be, he thought. “And frankly, I am curious about your history.”
The Grand Patriarch nodded, then with a tinge of sadness said, “Unfortunately, what I am about to tell you, will not be what you may have anticipated, nor, for that matter, do I expect it to be to your liking.”
Here it comes, Owens thought, perhaps he would finally hear the real reason for why he was here. “At this point, any information that will help clear up the mystery will be welcome,” he honestly replied.
The Grand Patriarch smiled grimly, “We shall see.” He stood up and walked over to one of the stone wall panels and touched its carving with a loving hand. He dropped his arm and turned again toward Owens. He was about to speak when a quiet chime began to toll. The Grand Patriarch frowned and sat back down in his chair. He pressed a stud on the chair’s arm and the chimes halted.
“Why have I been disturbed? I am now with Janus Owens. I seem to remember giving standing orders that I was not to be interrupted until I sent word.”
The voice of the captain of his personal guard responded from hidden speakers, “My most sincere apologies, Your Luminance. A situation has arisen concerning your daughter.”
The Grand Patriarch looked surprised, “Indeed?” He looked over at Owens and said, “I suspect this somehow concerns you.”
Owens was puzzled by the Grand Patriarch’s words. How could he be involved? He had never met the Grand Patriarch’s daughter. What could possibly be her interest be in him? Perhaps, he thought, she was in some way implicated in the assignment that the Grand Patriarch had in mind.
“Speak openly,” the Grand Patriarch commanded. “What is this situation that has moved you to violate my order?”
There was a moment of silence before the voice spoke again. “One of the guards posted at your daughter’s quarters called into the dispatch center. He reported… It… it seemed tha
t your daughter was not content to stay in her quarters and…”
“Captain, I will not repeat myself again. Speak plainly and quickly.”
“Forgive me, Your Luminance. The guard reported that his fellow officer was incapacitated when he refused to allow your daughter egress into the hallway outside her rooms. She produced some manner of weapon of which I am not familiar and shot him with it. She was headed for your location, when she was intercepted by a contingent of the guard. Before she could be constrained, she bought down two more of my men.”
Rubbing his chin, the Grand Patriarch seemed to be speaking to himself, “My, it seems that she inherited some of her ancestors’ temper after all.” He seemed almost amused. “How serious are the injuries?”
“Fortunately, Your Eminence, they are not fatal.”
“Well that is something, at least. Where is my daughter now?”
“She is presently in the south wing communications annex, close to your location, the reception rooms.”
The Grand Patriarch was thoughtful. He said, “Escort her back to her rooms. Tell her I will send for her in the morning, at eight chimes. She will join me along with Janus Owens for a discussion regarding the recent events that have been brought before me. I am sure that she will understand the context.”
“At once Your Luminance.”
“Oh, and Captain,” the Grand Patriarch’s voice was stern, “I want a full report of this incident on my desk before this night’s Service, with a copy to the Guardian of the Way. When your men have fully recovered, you will personally bring them before me so that I may render a decision as to your punishments.”
With no hint of emotion, the captain replied, “As you command, Your Luminance.” There was a soft chime, signifying that the conversation had ended.
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