Shadows of Golstar

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Shadows of Golstar Page 64

by Terrence Scott


  “Oh, I wouldn’t say it was chance at all. Your people’s ineptitude was the greatest factor. Frankly, I’m surprised you can remember to breathe when you go to sleep.”

  “As I expected, you are a boor with no manners. But then I suppose I should not judge you too harshly since I understand that lack of wit and sophomoric humor are practiced quite widely within the environs of Confederated Planets. Yes, that must be it; you are simply a product of your sad, decadent society, albeit an extremely lucky one.”

  He looked at her and with a grim smile said, “At least my sad, decadent government hasn’t resorted to brainwashing its citizens in order to stay in power. I’ll take my society over your humorless one anytime.”

  “How dare you? You know nothing of our society. The Orbs of Light provide guidance to the People and unites them under the Light.”

  “I know enough,” he said, “Enough to know your little utopia is a sham, supported by those so-called Orbs of Light. Guidance? Hah, more like outright mind control. All of your citizens march in lockstep to the tune your ruling families play. Without those alien brainwashers, your empire would have collapsed long ago.”

  She drew herself up haughtily, “I will not debate with you.”

  Owens grinned widely, “A wise choice on your part.”

  The new Grand Patriarch interrupted. In a commanding voice he said, “Enough!” He walked forward purposely and sat down across from Owens. The woman stood motionless, still glaring at Owens with unconcealed hatred clearly etched in the lines of her face. The new ruler turned and looked at her with clear displeasure. Her expression immediately cleared and she stiffly walked forward and sat in the chair to Owens’ right.

  “I will not stand on formalities. As you have by now probably surmised, I am the new acting Grand Patriarch. You have my permission to forgo the title and address me by my given name, Talin. The noble lady to my left is Minister Joselé.”

  Owens met Talin’s steady gaze, “Call me Owens.”

  Talin nodded, “Very well, Owens.” He paused, considering his next words. “I know my predecessor informed you as to why you are here. Can I assume then you understand, if not accept, its importance?”

  “Oh, I understand alright,” Owens responded. He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his coloring his voice, “I understand I’m part of a special key, a key to unlock a treasure trove of alien technology that has been withheld from you since the Founder’s death. And yeah, I understand that without it, you and your precious society are as good as dead.”

  Talin refused to be baited, “Then I am sure you were also informed of the necessary limits being placed on your freedom.”

  “I figured that one out on my own. It’s easy to see I know too many secrets to be allowed to return home.”

  Talin nodded, “Indeed you do. If the former Grand Patriarch’s mad scheme had succeeded, you may have been allowed to return to Confederated Planets, but sadly with your unexpected exposure to the Prime on Selane, that option was effectively closed.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Through no fault of your own, you were brought here and I do think you deserve some further explanation. As Minister Joselé said earlier, the former Grand Patriarch summoned you here without endorsement by the members of the ruling Assembly. They have always believed, as have I, the population problem could be solved internally, without the drastic measures, the former Grand Patriarch undertook. Once the population was stabilized, more resources could then be focused on regaining access to the Trah-tang technology. All the while, Confederated Planets would remain ignorant of our true circumstance.”

  “But the former Grand Patriarch changed all that,” Owens mused. “The mere act of requesting me has to have rekindled Confederated Planets’ interest and if I don’t return within a reasonable timeframe, for any given reason, they’re sure to investigate. Am I right?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. As a result of our ex-ruler’s mad scheme, an incursion by Confederated Planets is now all but certain. So, since you are already within our borders, it is now necessary we take full advantage of your unique value. In order to prevail once again against Confederated Planets, we must immediately seek to regain access to the Primes.”

  “So, for me this change has no effect on my status as your prisoner. You aim to get your pound of flesh… from me.”

  “True. Therefore, the current restrictions to your freedom must remain in place. Know that you will never be allowed to return to Confederated Planets alive.” He stopped and glanced at the minister. She returned his gaze with a curt nod. He turned back to Owens, “However, in spite of our marked differences, we are not without compassion. As you did not seek your current circumstances, you will be allowed to live on Berralton. As soon as your new quarters have been modified to accommodate your, ah… unique talents, you will be taken there to wait until the numerical key sequence is recovered. Once that is accomplished, you will provide us with the other half of the key and our rightful access to the Primes will be returned.”

  So, Owens thought, they hadn’t yet found the numbers Sharné had recovered from her mother’s files. She mustn’t have told them. He almost smiled at the unexpected revelation. Then his momentary feeling of relief was replaced with sudden worry. Maybe she hadn’t deliberately withheld the information. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she was still unconscious or… he didn’t want to think of the alternative. He had to find out.

  He asked, “May I ask, how is the Keeper of the Way? I believe she struck her head during my scuffle with your men. Please believe me, when I took her hostage, I hadn’t intended her any harm.”

  “She is recovering nicely, no thanks to you,” Minister Joselé answered.

  Talin said, “That act alone would have brought you before a firing squad, but as I said, you are not responsible for being here. I, therefore, will make an allowance this one time. You will not be granted another.”

  Owens kept his face blank. He said, “I understand.”

  “Good. Once you have provided your part of the key along with donating some additional tissue samples, I will consider relaxing some of your restrictions. Provided you willingly cooperate, over time your freedom may be extended beyond your immediate quarters.” His voice grew noticeably cold, “But be aware, once you have provided those items, your living presence will no longer be required. Your continued existence is subject to my indulgence alone. Your life beyond our immediate need will depend entirely upon you. The least infraction will result in your prompt termination. Do you understand this as well?”

  “Yes, I understand,” Owens answered. Now was not the time for a futile gesture of defiance, he thought.

  Standing up, Talin said, “Very well, I will have your restraints removed upon our departure. But before we leave, I want you to look up at the ceiling.”

  Owens tilted his head back and saw a flattened silver dome in the center of the ceiling.

  “What you see is a monitoring device. It has a 360-degree view of this room. In addition, it is capable of emitting a non-lethal nerve gas that can incapacitate even someone of your physical attributes within a few seconds of contact with the skin. Though it will not kill you, I understand it is quite painful and can cause permanent damage to the nervous system from prolonged contact. I trust you won’t try to escape again.”

  Owens tore his eyes away from the dome and stared at the Grand Patriarch.

  The Grand Patriarch returned his scrutiny for a moment, then he and the minister turned and left. The door had barely closed when three uniformed guards opened it again. One stayed by the door, leveling an ugly-looking weapon in Owens’ direction, as the other two went over to him and released his restraints. “Remain seated until we leave,” one of them ordered.

  The door closed and gripping the edge of the table, Owens slowly stood. He carefully shifted his weight from one foot to the other, testing the strength in his legs. Other than a little stiffness, they felt okay. He must not have been unconscious for v
ery long. Releasing the table, he straightened and stretched, working the stiffness from his back and arms.

  He began to make a slow circuit around the room. He saw, positioned behind where he had been sitting, an opening without a door. Beyond it was a small room barely big enough to contain a tiny sink and antique toilet. He looked up again at the ceiling and saw a small intake vent over the tiny bathroom’s entrance. His eyes traveled along the walls where the ceiling met and found the exhaust vent. Neither vent was even close to being big enough to accommodate someone of his size. There was no way out other than the single door. He slowly turned, taking in his surroundings once more. His eyes stopped at the dresser. There was a small tangle of straps lying on its surface. He hadn’t seen it from his sitting position.

  He walked over to the dresser and was surprised to see his gravity harness, or what was left of it. The last time that he saw it, it was still hanging in the wardroom closet in his palace suite. Looking at it now, he saw the small disk containing the micro-circuitry had been forced open. Only a few wires and a piece of the connector harness remained. It was otherwise empty. The tiny power-pack was also missing. He picked it up and threw the useless jumble of straps into the corner. He wondered at his captor’s point. It seemed awfully weak as a gesture of intimidation, if that’s what it was.

  He shook his head and opened the top drawer of the dresser. In it, he saw a number of neatly folded tunics and pairs of pants along with some underwear that he had packed for his trip to Berralton. For a moment, he wished he had the new and improved survival suit that had been fabricated by the Controller. Not only was it comfortable, if the Controller could be believed, it was an effective shield against energy weapons. Something like that could come in handy when he again tried to escape.

  He looked down at himself and saw he was still wearing the clothes that had been provided him for his meeting with Sharné’s father. They were now dirty and torn in places, much the worse for wear from his last violent encounter. He stripped down to his underwear, tossing the damaged garments into the same corner as he had the gravity harness. He entered the tiny bathroom and washed up, as well as he could, using the small sink and meager supply of towels. He then donned fresh underwear and clothes.

  He walked back over to the dresser to check the remaining drawers. He opened another drawer and received a second surprise. Lying on top of some folded blankets next to a thin pillow was his wrist-comp. He hid his growing excitement as he picked it up and eyed it with seeming indifference. He was relieved to see that it appeared undamaged, but without turning it on, he couldn’t be sure. He turned around and looked up at the dome. Addressing his hidden watchers, he held it up, unobtrusively pressing the small activating stud. He was gratified to see the tiny transmit indicator wink on behind his concealing thumb. He said quickly, “What in the hell am I supposed to do with this? You trashed my gravity compensator. Why did you leave me this?

  A disembodied voice answered. “I only answer you at the directive of the Grand Patriarch. Your possessions were thoroughly inspected. The miniaturization of your gravity compensator was found to be intriguing and its inner workings were sent to our Department of Science for further study. Your other possessions, including your wrist computer were placed within the dressing chest for your… convenience. As you cannot contact your ship and it has no weapon capability, we see little harm in providing you with this small means of entertainment.”

  So they had checked it out. They must have at least accessed the entertainment module libraries and projection-holo. He let sarcasm drip into his voice, “Gosh, thanks. This will really help while away the lonely hours.” He made a show of putting it on and polishing it with his sleeve. He received no further comment as he walked back to the table and sat down. He yawned and idly tapped three times on the table’s surface. He waited for a moment then tapped again. The transmit indicator on the wrist-comp responded with three flashes. Hec was on-line.

  Owens remembered that he had tried sixteen key combinations before he had been knocked out. He realized if he could pick up where he had left off in passageway, he could probably recite three or four more numerical key sequences before his watchers became suspicious. He could possibly stretch that number if he could establish a behavior pattern that would justify his speaking the numbers out loud. He could start talking to himself, perhaps shouting insults from time to time at his unseen watchers. Yeah, that might work.

  He had seen enough strange characters while on the police force, suspects that would yell obscenities and mumble nonsensical words. He remembered that those tasked with monitoring such individuals often became inured to the babblings and sometimes even turned down the sound pick-ups. It was worth a try. He stood up abruptly and started to pace. He did this for about five minutes then stopped and looked up at the dome angrily. He said, “What are you looking at, assholes?”

  CHAPTER 56

  It had been three days since Sharné had returned to full consciousness. She had spent most of her time in contemplation, alternating between persistent worry over Owens and a growing hatred towards her father. She sat on the edge of her bed with her father’s betrayal plaguing her thoughts. She was still grappling with the knowledge he had killed her mother. It seemed impossible, yet he had freely admitted his hand in her mother’s demise. It had unexpectedly reopened a wound she had thought healed long ago. With the harsh revelation of her father’s devastating admission, she found herself once again mourning the loss her mother. It was as if the intervening years had never happened. Torn between the renewed anguish arising from her mother’s murder and the hatred she felt for her father, she could only sit powerlessly and ponder what her life might have been like had her mother lived.

  As usual, one thought led to another and still thinking of what might have been. She wondered what her mother would have thought of Owens. Would she have rejected him outright as an enemy of the People? Or might she have seen the inner strength of character as her daughter had? Would she have taken the time to know him better? She sighed. What was the point of these what-ifs? Her mother was long dead, a victim of her father’s madness.

  A discreet knock on the door interrupted her dark ruminations. She cleared her expression, looked toward the door and said, “Come in.”

  Minister Joselé entered the room. “I just came by to look in on you. How are you feeling, child?”

  “Much better,” she lied. She gave Lauren a small smile. It was good to see her.

  “I am most happy to hear that. With all of your recent adventures, it is a wonder you have retained your, your...”

  “Sanity?”

  “I was thinking of the word poise, but I suppose sanity would do as well,” Lauren smiled back. “In fact, my own sanity was sorely tested by that damnable young man from Confederated Planets. I was only exposed to him for a short while, but that was sufficient for two lifetimes. I cannot begin to imagine how you endured his disturbing presence for so long. Being confined with him during your daring escape from the doomed Light Saber must have been almost unendurable.”

  “I admit it was difficult at times. However, I took solace in the fact it was my duty, or so I was led to believe.”

  “Well, duty or not, it still had to have been most trying. Nor can I imagine the added trepidation you must have felt when you were taken hostage by the very man you had protected.” The minister shook her head. “Your strength and perseverance are to be admired.

  Sharné knew she had to be careful in her response. She bowed her head, sighed and inserted a tone of mild disgust in her voice, “It was quite… harrowing in both situations. I had not the choice in the latter, but my role aboard the Light Saber was… my duty to…” She hesitated, pretending to struggle for her composure, seemingly at a loss for words.

  “It is alright, Sharné. You need not say anything further. We understand you were acting under the orders of your father. You cannot be held responsible for his mental aberrations nor for his errors in judgment. He was, aft
er all, the Grand Patriarch. His word was law. We know you had no true choice in the matter. The acting Grand Patriarch knows better than I what you were obligated to do for your father.”

  “The acting Grand Patriarch?”

  “Yes, your uncle has assumed the role. So, you can see how your part in your father’s misguided plan has already been absolved.”

  She was not surprised the Guardian of the Way had taken her father’s place. She looked up, “Thank you.”

  “No Sharné, thank you. Thanks to your resourcefulness, you kept Janus Owens alive and as a result, that act has turned out to be a greater service to Golstar than what I had first believed. I am loath to say it, but the unfortunate consequences of your father’s plan have set certain wheels in motion that will now force us to see it to its end.”

  “I thought you and a majority of the Assembly were against using any outside means to solve Golstar’s internal problems.”

  “I am still. Forgive me, I understand he is your father and at one time my friend, but it must be said. With his unseemly actions, it is highly likely Golstar will soon be invaded by Confederated Planets once again and I fear we may have little time before that confrontation. And so, for the sake of our survival we now have no choice but to utilize the man from Confederated Planets as your father had originally intended. By providing his part of the key, he will help us regain our former greatness and enable us to repel the unwanted intrusion by our old enemy.”

  Bowing her head again, Sharné said, “I am very sorry for what my father has brought upon us. The truth of your words cannot offend me.”

  “Sharné, you of all people have nothing to apologize for. It is all thanks to you that we will once again have the advanced technology to defend ourselves from the enemy. By your acts of bravery, the People will be led back into the warming Light of the Way.”

  “The Founder protects his children,” Sharné said softly.

 

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