Shadows of Golstar

by Terrence Scott

  Owens whispered, “Whoever it might have been, it looks like they’re gone now, unless someone is hiding, waiting for us to move. However, I really doubt whoever it was, was looking for us.”

  “Owens, my father’s rooms are in the same direction where that light originated.” He felt her whispered breath against his cheek.

  “Shit, I thought you said that these passages were all but forgotten.”

  “That was my belief.”

  “Well someone sure remembered them. What else is in that direction? Please tell me it’s not your mother’s rooms.”

  He could feel the slight shake of her head. “No, my mother’s quarters are down the left branch of the passage. I can only remember that, other than my father’s rooms, there are more passages leading to a number of locked doors. What rooms they might conceal, I do not know. As a child, I only ventured once in that direction and after finding all the doors locked, I never went back for fear of discovery.”

  “That mystery will have to wait then. One way or the other, we need to get going. Give me your light, but don’t follow until I tell you. If someone is waiting in ambush, there’s no need for you to get caught.”

  Sharné started to protest, but he found her lips and silenced her with a quick kiss. Then he pulled back and whispered urgently, “Sharné, nobody knows that you’re with me. If I’m recaptured, you’ll be my ace-in-the-hole. Free, you may still be able to help me. But if we both get caught, that’ll be end of any chance I might have to escape again.”

  She silently handed him the light and in return he gave her his smaller one. He switched it on and waited for a few moments until his eyes readjusted to the brightness. He aimed the light in front of him and said softly, “Move back and be ready to run in the other direction, toward your rooms.”

  He started forward, stopping at the junction to the passage running perpendicular to their path. He shined the light to the right and saw only a long, barren passageway, terminating in what looked to be another junction about fifty meters away. There were no obstacles, nothing to hide behind; the passage was empty.

  Staring down the passage, with the shocker in-hand, he waited for a minute or so and then looked over his shoulder, back at Sharné. He nodded and motioned her forward. She quietly joined him and together, they turned left, entering the passage. They ignored the right-hand branch, which was now at their backs. They walked another forty meters without incident, stopping before an unmarked door with a simple lever handle.

  Sharné opened it and led Owens to a door at the end of another short passage. She pushed a small panel next to the door, and it started to swing outward, then it stopped with a rusty squawk. They both winced at the sound and hoped that no one was near enough to hear it.

  “Here, let me.” Pocketing the shocker and handing her the light, Owens moved forward and tested the door with his hands. It resisted his tentative push. He pushed a little harder and the door moved grudgingly. “I’m going to have to put my weight into it,” he told Sharné. He leaned against the door with his shoulder, planting his feet firmly, and pushed again. The door started to move slowly at first, and then, as he applied more pressure, it emitted a louder screech followed by a cracking sound and opened freely.

  With the sudden lack of resistance, Owens lost his balance, fell forward and toppled face down on a soft surface. A cloud of dust puffed up from the thick dusty carpet he had landed on, causing him to sneeze.

  “Bless you,” she said, almost giggling at his unexpected pratfall. She quickly sobered and walked over to a nearby panel and activated the lights.

  “Thanks.” He rose to his feet, dusting off his clothes and looked around the brightly-lit surroundings. They were in a dressing room similar to the one in Sharné’s quarters. However, in this case, the mirrors were all fogged with dust; cobwebs draped along the moldings. The air was musty and stale from being sealed for the many years since the death of Sharné’s mother. He stifled another sneeze as he looked at a shapeless mound in the center of the room. He figured it was a dressing table. It was covered with a gray, grimy shroud that must have originally started out white.

  He followed Sharné into the adjoining room, small clouds of dust puffing at their feet. It was cluttered with furniture, all covered with drab, dust-laden sheets. Sharné turned to him. She pointed to a doorway. “The next room over is the parlor. In it, you will find the entrance from the main hallway that connects to the other long-empty residences in this wing of the palace. It has been barred and bolted shut since my mother’s death. It bears my father’s seal to prevent unauthorized access. It would take some time for anyone to breach the threshold and in the process, a fair amount of noise would result.

  He went over to the parlor’s entrance and looked in. He saw the large ornate door on the other side of the room and nodded. “Okay.”

  “My mother’s files are in her office at the end of the hallway. It might be difficult for us to hear the beginning overtures of a break-in from that far room, so I would ask that you to stand watch here and listen for anything unusual while I am looking through the documents. You can come back and alert me at the first sign of forced entry. Hopefully, should that occur, we will have sufficient time to return to the passageway.”

  “Okay, sounds reasonable,” he nodded. “Why don’t you go ahead and start looking. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

  She nodded and went down the hall while he turned, walked into the parlor and over to the door. He put his ear to the jamb and listened intently. After a few seconds, he was gratified by the unbroken silence. He pulled back, turning to lean against the door and with arms folded, prepared to wait for however long it took for Sharné to find the information.

  As he lounged against the door, his eyes wandered around the room, noting the indistinguishable lumps of sheet-covered furniture crowding the floor. His gaze stopped on a small table. It was the only the piece of furniture left uncovered. A flat box or book rested in the center of its top. He wondered at its significance. The table was ash-colored with the accumulated dust, but the Victorian influence on its design was still easy to discern. His curiosity finally got the better of him and he walked over to the table and picked up the object. It was a box about twelve inches square, four inches deep and covered by the ubiquitous layer of dust. It seemed heavy for its size and he carefully opened it.

  He didn’t know what he might find and was a little surprised by the unusual item that rested within the box. It was a small black rectangular housing made of metal with two short wiring harnesses connected to one side. What was curious was that almost half of its metal surface was covered with irregular, ragged holes, exposing burnt circuitry beneath. The pattern of damage looked as if something had splashed against the housing and eaten away the metal and electronics underneath. A strong acid might have been responsible for the damage.

  What an odd thing to find in a dead noblewoman’s suite. He took out his light and shined it on the metal surface. He couldn’t see any markings, nothing to identify the manufacturer or indicate the function of the small, mysterious apparatus. He gently lifted it out of the box and looked at the object’s undamaged back panel. He spotted a label with some faint words and numbers.

  He brought it closer to his eyes, trying to read the faded tag. He could just make out the words, ‘S-link speed controller’ followed by a serial number. He replaced the now identified speed controller in the box and put it back down on the table. He walked over to the door and again listened until he was satisfied that there wasn’t anyone trying to enter. He leaned against the door and looked back at the table. Minutes passed as his mind wondered at the small mystery of the box.

  ● ● ●

  The old secret passage was the only access to the Sanctum from his rooms. The Grand Patriarch hoped that he would reach the Sanctum’s access before someone remembered the route and began searching it. It did not take him long to travel down the dark, narrow passageways to reach his destination. However, he
had not foreseen a major stumbling block that would ultimately obstruct his path.

  The Grand Patriarch stood in the passage, staring at the door in frustration. It had no handle. Only a sequence of pressure points would open it and at the moment, the Grand Patriarch could not remember the combination. He had not used the passage for years and never thought that it would ever be needed. He had attempted a few sequences that seemed familiar, but with no success.

  He rubbed his brow trying to remember the exact pattern, but try as he might, he could not recall it. Time was passing and he knew he could not afford the time to just futilely stand there, searching his memory for the elusive sequence. The chance of discovery increased the longer he stood there. There had to be another way. Then he remembered. His wife’s old suite was in an abandoned wing. From there he could get to the empty reading room across the hallway. It had a direct, computer access to the Sanctum.

  ● ● ●

  Sharné returned from her mother’s private office and entered the parlor. Her expression seemed troubled. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she said, “I have some good news and bad news.”

  “Just once I’d like to have only good news,” He sighed, leaving his post by the door. “Well, what is it?”

  “I found the birth and death dates and wrote them down in the proper sequence.” She passed him a sheet of parchment.

  He saw a string of numbers. Then he noticed the space right before the last four digits. “Uh, oh, I think I just spotted the bad news.”

  “Well, it is not truly so bad,” she replied. “The records are old and faded. I could not make out the day of the month for the aunt’s death. Until reaching Golstar, we used Earth’s calendar-keeping methodology, so the only missing number in the sequence must be between one and thirty-one.”

  Her somber expression seemed to belie her words and he wondered what else might be troubling her. He said, “No, I guess that’s not so bad after all, just thirty-one possible combinations.”

  The Grand Patriarch stepped out from the adjacent room. “No,” he said coldly. “I am afraid that I must disagree. It is very bad.”

  Owens and Sharné quickly turned toward the Grand Patriarch. Owens started to raise the shocker.

  The Grand Patriarch’s pistol was pointing at his chest. “Please drop your weapon.”

  Owens didn’t move. His arm holding the shocker remained frozen, pointing at the Grand Patriarch’s legs. Glaring at the Grand Patriarch, Owens said, “Would you shoot the only chance to get immediate access to your precious alien technology? If I die, it would take some time to clone a new key and time isn’t something you have in abundance.”

  The Grand Patriarch expression became thoughtful. “An excellent point,” he said and turned the gun on Sharné. “I repeat, drop your weapon. I know you have feelings for my daughter, so if you do not relinquish the shocker, I will most certainly shoot her.”

  Owens looked at the gun. It was pointed unwaveringly at Sharné. “You won’t shoot her.”

  The Grand Patriarch said, “If you do not comply, I will not hesitate.”

  “She’s your daughter, for God’s sake.”

  The Grand Patriarch’s expression grew fierce, “My daughter? My daughter would not betray me or our People. My daughter would not abet your escape; she would not commit the crime of high treason!” These last words were shouted.

  Unflinching, Sharné stared back at her father. “It is not I who betrayed our people. It is not I who employs the Trah-tang technology to subjugate our people. And…” she paused as if finding the words she was about to speak, blasphemous, “it is you who have known all along the reason for the population’s decline, you and the Grand Matriarch before you.”

  “You foolish, foolish child, you know nothing!”

  She shook her head sadly, “My mother knew and now so do I. I found it her last journal when I was searching for the key code. In it, she revealed the truth.”

  The Grand Patriarch sneered, “The truth? What did she know of the truth? She understood only a fraction of the entire problem. Only I and my predecessor were privy to the true picture, its complexity and the consequences of choosing the wrong path. ”

  Tears were starting to track down Sharné’s cheeks, “Wrong path? Father, there is only but one solution. My mother knew it. She told you, tried to reason with you. She begged you and when you continued to refuse…”

  “She threatened me, me the Grand Patriarch, the rightful ruler of Golstar! She actually tried to intimidate me, said she would take it to the People, allow them to decide.”

  “But you could not let that happen, could you Father?”

  He shook his head slowly. His voice lowered, “She threatened the Way of Light. Do you not see? She was wrong and had to be stopped. Dear Founder, she had to be stopped.”

  “And so,” her voice was barely above a whisper. “You had her killed.”

  He stared at her, his face alternating between anguish and anger. He said nothing. The gun continued to point unerring at her breast. The cold silence stretched.

  Owens broke the tableau, “It was you. You sabotaged the transport your wife was riding in.”

  The Grand Patriarch’s gaze remained fixed on his daughter. “Very good, Janus Owens, you are indeed a capable investigator.”

  “It wasn’t so hard. Sharné told me her mother died in an accident. You left the incriminating evidence lying on a table in this room.”

  The Grand Patriarch said, “I know I should have had my wife’s rooms cleared, but I am not without sentiment.”

  “Saving a piece of the mechanism you sabotaged as a memento of a murder doesn’t strike me as particularly sentimental. In examining your macabre trophy, it appears you had acid applied to a component of her vehicle’s speed control.”

  The Grand Patriarch smiled coldly, “That and the braking system, yes. My wife loved to tour in reproductions of ancient, wheeled vehicles. Many of the upper classes enjoyed them for recreation. She said it made her feel more in touch to her surroundings. Often, she would go out on long drives to clear her mind. Unfortunately, for her, the mountain road she was so fond of traveling proved to be quite treacherous. Sadly, the vehicle lost control on a particularly sharp turn and sailed over a cliff, killing her instantly. I will always remain empty without her in my life.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you were really broken up.”

  “Make no mistake, I loved my wife, Janus Owens, but the needs of the People must always come first. It was a terrible sacrifice but one I had to make.” He paused, and then said, “I have indulged your transparent tactic for delay, but now the time for discussion is at an end. You have really no choice, Janus Owens. You must now yield to me and fulfill your destiny.”

  Owens looked at Sharné. The tears on her cheeks had dried. He withheld a caustic reply. Instead, he asked, “Patriarch, before I give up, would you at least answer one more question?”

  “You have no leverage to exhort any more answers, but I will allow you one question. It will depend on you whether or not I provide an answer. I am still waiting for you to drop your weapon.”

  Owens ignored the demand and kept a tight grip on the shocker. “What is the cause for the decline in population?’

  It was Sharné who answered. “Owens, it is the aliens’ orbs of teaching. They were not designed for humans. The constant bombardment of the ultrasonic sounds and a subtle form of radiation causes accumulative tissue damage in human fetuses, including the reproductive organs. Along with a number of other maladies, the control spheres are ultimately responsible for the infertility!”

  Owens said, “I don’t get it. Why not just shut them down? The problem would be solved.”

  “That was what my mother proposed.”

  “Silence!” The Grand Patriarch’s angry voice filled the room. “To turn off the mechanisms would have created chaos. The People need the Orbs of Light. They teach and reinforce the principles of the Way. They aid in putting minds on the path to enli
ghtenment. Generations of unborn children and adults alike have benefited by the subliminal teachings.”

  “But that is not all that they do, is it, Father? Discounting the tissue damage for the moment, they also instill in the People blind obedience to authority, your authority. It gives them a false sense of hope, comfort and the belief in the infallibility of the ruling classes. It shrouds the imperative for unthinking obeisance with the counterfeit feeling of peace and contentment.”

  “Sadly, as it was with your dear mother, you are misguided, Daughter. They unite the People for the common good of all.”

  “No Father, they indoctrinate the People to follow blindly the edicts of the elite families... whose members are shielded from much, if not all, of the effects of the orbs.”

  The Grand Patriarch shook his head sadly, “You are your mother’s daughter. You voice the same tired accusations she once raised. However, she was wrong, as are you. My path is illuminated by the Light, the only true path. Soon, with direct access to the Controllers, I will find the answer to the decline in birthrate without the loss of the orbs’ benevolent influence.”

  Owens saw that the Grand Patriarch’s hold on sanity was precarious at best and that nothing rational would sway the Golstar zealot. “I understand the fundamental differences between you and Sharné cannot be resolved, but I ask she not be punished. If I have your promise not to hurt her, I’ll surrender.”

  The Grand Patriarch laughed harshly, “Again you attempt to bargain with nothing to offer that I do not already possess.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that. Take a look at my hand.”

  “The Grand Patriarch saw that Owens was pointing the shocker directly at his chest.

  Owens nodded. “While you were engaged in those grand philosophical discussions with your daughter, I was able to bring this up to where it will do the most good.” He waved the shocker slightly to emphasize his point. “If you pull that trigger, I’ll fire, and before you hit the ground, I’ll break your fucking neck.”