Sacred Trust

by Roxanne Barbour

  SACRED TRUST

  by

  Roxanne Barbour

  WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Published by

  WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

  www.whiskeycreekpress.com

  Copyright © 2015 by Roxanne Barbour

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  ISBN: 978-1-63355-696-6

  Credits

  Cover Artist: Susan Krupp

  Editor: Merrylee Lanehart

  Printed in the United States of America

  In Memory of Leonard Nimoy.

  Goodbye, Mr. Spock.

  Chapter 1

  I should have let Tata pick our destination, I thought, gazing down at the obviously dead Basilian sprawled near the dais dominating the Temple of Enlightenment in the Basili capital of Basik. Discovering a dead body certainly made for an ominous start to our study of Basilian religion.

  My friend, Tata Junior, and I had recently arrived on Basili from Tata’s home planet of Arandis, and had started attending BSU, the Basilian Scientific University. After school, we normally try to visit a monument, or building, or museum, or attend a cultural event. We knew so little about Basili. And since it looked like we might be here for a while, we both understood the necessity of understanding our surroundings.

  Our ambassador parents, and Tata and I, had ended up in Basik after getting kicked off Arandis—the only other inhabited planet in this solar system. Although our expulsion had been the result of Tata’s action, no one mentioned the topic in his hearing. I suspected, though, his single-parent ambassador mother, Ilandus Tata, had had a few choice words for him in private.

  “Nara, leave,” said Tata. His hands clasped behind his back indicated Tata’s nervousness.

  My universal translator and I had pretty much gotten used to Tata’s truncated Arandi speech. So I deduced Tata tried to tell me we should disappear.

  Upon our arrival at the temple, I’d looked around the high-ceilinged main room and marveled at the numerous statues on display. I wondered if they were statues of gods…or perhaps ancestors. Various displays were lit up and enticed us to wander the mostly dark room.

  We hadn’t had time for much study before we came across the body.

  Before I had chance to respond to Tata’s request to leave, we were joined by four staff members of the Temple. Their flowing tweedy-blue capes indicated their allegiance. Although normally wordier than Arandi, the Basilians silently grabbed us. Tata and I struggled, but to no avail. The Basilians tied us together, back-to-back, and made us stand on the dais beside the body, which was still dripping its peculiar green blood.

  The higher humidity and our struggle against our bindings made me sticky with sweat. Although fear may be the culprit too, I thought. One of only four humans on a previously undiscovered planet tended to up the stress level—at least mine.

  “I guess we should have gone to the Space Museum like you suggested,” I said to Tata.

  A growl escaped Tata’s mouth. Tata never understood my sense of humor, and it wasn’t easy for me to determine when Tata was being humorous, although I had to admit—Arandi humor focused on areas I was not accustomed to—things like food and clothing.

  Who would have thought?

  Oddly, I was growing tired of looking at the same strange statue. That and my back and shoulders were killing me. I tried to stand up straighter but tied to the taller Tata made me slouch awkwardly while my arms were pulled up behind me. “Tata, talk to me. What’s happening?” He and the Basilians were out of my line of sight and since no one spoke, I had no idea where the current players were and what they were doing.

  “One leave; others watch,” said Tata.

  Tata’s voice betrayed him. I knew him well enough to sense his anxiety.

  So that means we have three captors. No chance of escaping, I guess.

  Since no one seemed in the mood to talk, I studied the body. I needed to take my mind off the ropes binding me to Tata and how my father, Naru Scotia, the human ambassador to Basili, was going to regret again bringing up an eighteen-year-old daughter by himself.

  On the other hand, perhaps Eonus Tata, Tata Junior, or Tata as I liked to sometimes call him, would be in greater trouble with his mother, Ilandus Tata, the Arandi ambassador to Basili, especially since Tata Junior was the reason we all got kicked off Arandis. Only time will tell.

  Although we’d only been on Basili a short time, the Basilian splayed on the dais seemed to perhaps be of retirement age.

  Did aliens retire? Do they even have the concept? I had not encountered this notion on Arandis. I had more than a few questions for my father.

  At least Basilians showed variety in choosing their clothing colors—quite unlike Tata’s people. The Arandi had strict color choices—purple and green garments for the males, red and blue garments for females—although black, white, and brown were worn by all.

  Physically, the Arandi and Basilians were similar—humanoid, grey skeletal body form, and curly locks of hair. Their similarity was what had actually caused the ejection of the four of us—Tata and I and our parents— from Arandis. Tata found a secret hidden from both populations—Arandis and Basili had been seeded by common ancestors. My father and I had found ourselves smack in the middle of the conflict, so once again I lacked human companionship, except for my father and his two human assistants, who happened to be a couple.

  “Tata, look at the body and tell me what you see,” I demanded.

  Tata shook a little, as if to disagree, but he relented and we shuffled our bodies around—under the watchful twitching of our captors. They moved closer as we twirled.

  What was I thinking! Now I have to stare into the eyes of our guards.

  Tata cleared his throat, and appeared reluctant to speak. Normally forceful, his hesitation surprised me.

  “What do you see? Come on, tell me.” His silence irritated me. I wanted to jump up and start running somewhere. Our situation confounded my experience.

  “Guards?” asked Tata.

  “The guards don’t care.” I wanted to smack him—not that I ever had—but his concerns frustrated me. We had no control over the guards.

  Tata sighed. “Older Basilian. Blood two spots. Probably knife twice.”

  I hadn’t noticed two pools of green blood. On our next turnaround, I’d take a closer look.

  I knew Tata was uncomfortable when he squirmed in our weird embrace and his usual faint hint of rosemary grew stronger. So I said, “Let me see, again.” We shuffled around to our original position.

  To my surprise, the two pools of blood were on the same side of the Basilian’s body. They were so close together I hadn’t noticed the break in my previous perusal. Since the spread of blood hadn’t grown much after our initial discovery of the body, his death had probably not been that recent.

  I’m kidding myself—what did I know about either Basilian or, for that matter, Arandi physiology in the aftermath of death? I really must erase my human notions and stick to the facts.


  I looked up to see a Basilian watching. His uniform perhaps indicated an official of some sort. Although I knew from personal experience, Arandi police clothed themselves in garish fabric covered in badges, I had never met the equivalent Basilian. Possibly, they opted for black clothing with very little in the way of insignia. However, I was convinced he was an official of some sort.

  The officer gestured at the temple staff to untie us. After that, I loved him! Being tied up had been a new experience—one I hoped to never experience again.

  I rubbed my arms and said, “Officer, I am Nara Scotia. I am a human from—”

  He interrupted me. “I know who both of you are. I am Officer Aron Kikess of the Basilian police.”

  Officer Kick-Ass! I tried not to laugh. I wasn’t totally successful, because Tata jabbed me with his elbow.

  Kikess ignored us and made a call on his com. From what I heard, reinforcements were now on the way.

  “What were you two doing here?” he asked.

  “Easy peasy. We stopped by after school to study the temple. Tata and I know so little about Basilian culture, we’re trying to study everything we can. In fact, we’ve been to—”

  “Understood.”

  I’d been cut off again. My babbling apparently wasn’t appreciated.

  “Show me your hands,” Officer Kikess said.

  First Tata held out his hands. The detective took a close look and then motioned for Tata to turn his hands over. He repeated the procedure with me.

  What was he looking for? Then it dawned on me he searched for evidence of green blood or other debris on our bodies. To top off the indignities we’d experienced today, he took a spray can from his bag and completely covered our hands with a chilly orange paint. Preserving evidence was my guess.

  We waited in silence until a group of Basilians appeared. I assumed they were detectives, evidence gatherers, medical staff and such.

  “Call parents,” said Officer Kikess to Tata and me. At that point, he sounded like an Arandi, rather than a Basilian.

  I had enough mobility under the dried orange goo to take my com out of my pocket. Thankfully, my com responded to voice-activation.

  Dad’s location was unknown to me, but he answered his com. “Dad, Tata and I are in a bit of trouble. Officer Kikess would like to speak with you.”

  I could foresee the end of freedom in my future.

  Chapter 2

  Discovering a dead Basilian had put my day in the dumpster. Although most days since our arrival on Basili had been pretty interesting, I’m not sure I’d rate Basili more than just adequate. Something about this world seemed off to me.

  Tata and I were escorted, by our original guards, away from the body to wait for our parents’ arrival. I now had an opportunity to study the room and its inhabitants.

  My second look around the Great Room astounded me. I thought perhaps the light level had been upped for the police, as a great deal more of the room was illuminated. I increased my estimates of the room’s length and width, and I noticed more nooks and crannies along the outer walls. Additionally, the center boasted more lighted displays than I’d noticed previously.

  I need to come back here. This place should hold a wealth of information about Basilian religion and its history.

  In addition to the police presence, a number of other Basilians had entered the Great Room. It was, by far, the largest room I had encountered on Basili—so my spontaneous naming the space Great suited its expanse.

  The police kept the new arrivals at a distance—away from the crime scene and away from us. So my study lacked details I could have gleaned up close. However, I noticed a Basilian of some authority. Perhaps he was in charge of the temple. His garments had considerably more adornments than the drab flowing tweedy-blue capes worn by the majority of temple members. My assumption was he—as each temple member I’d seen so far—was male.

  Thankfully, the inhabitants of Arandis and Basili were basically four-limbed humanoids. So I didn’t need to fathom anything different in the way of sexes and other basic concepts. However, unbeknownst to me, the day would come when I would be expectedly and wonderfully surprised by something I’d taken for granted.

  Each person, the leader spoke to, put the fingertips of both hands to their foreheads as a greeting, to a person of elevated position, I supposed.

  Most conversations were short, amongst the Basilians, but then an extended one occurred. Much to my surprise, a Basilian, with white hair, greeted the leader. I’d never before seen a Basilian without yellow hair.

  I turned to Tata to ask a question about Albinos but, before I could say a word, I noticed our parents arriving. Dad and Ilandus walked in together, which shouldn’t have surprised me, but for some reason, it did. We all lived in a building that housed various diplomats—kind of like a United Nations housing authority—and Ambassador Tata and my father Naru Scotia attended a lot of the same functions.

  Officer Kikess came over and introduced himself to them, and said, “Your offspring have found themselves in a compromising situation. We will take them back to police headquarters for questioning and examination. It would be most appropriate if you joined us and watched the proceedings, Ambassadors.”

  Kikess acted remarkably deferential towards our parents. He really does know who Tata and I are.

  “Are the children going to need legal representation?” asked my father. His anxiety showed—at least to me. And I wish he would stop calling us children. After all I’m a world-travelling young adult now. I sighed.

  “What is legal representation?” asked Kikess, after a moment.

  “Someone to protect Nara and Tata in police matters,” said Dad.

  Kikess bobbed his head. “I have no idea what you are talking about. We will discuss this later.”

  And the look on Ambassador Tata’s face told me she didn’t understand my father’s comment either.

  The thought of studying the Basilian legal system hadn’t entered my mind. Most likely their laws were foreign to our way of thinking, but they would need some remedies to laws being broken. I would have to ask Dad. Surely an ambassador would know these things. Although the previous conversation seemed to put a rider on that statement.

  “May we talk to our children before you take them away?” asked Ambassador Tata.

  A woman dear to my heart! I needed some comfort, if only for a moment.

  Kikess consented, so the four of us moved aside to have our two conversations.

  Dad looked at my orange hands and then reached out and gave me a hug. “What have you got yourself into this time?” His words sounded harsh but his face expressed his concern.

  “Tata and I stumbled upon a body during our walk through the Temple of Enlightenment. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. So members of the temple tied us up and called the police. In my opinion, they overreacted.” I am not sure he wants my opinion, but he got it anyway. I definitely felt and sounded cranky.

  Dad shook his head. “We’ll discuss your wandering around Basik alone, at a later time.”

  “I wasn’t alone. Tata was with me,” I said. He’s trying to control me again, just like on Arandis.

  He continued, “Just keep calm, and we’ll meet you at police headquarters.” Dad gave me another hug and then he and Ambassador Tata walked over to Officer Kikess.

  “Are you in trouble?” I asked Tata, after we were alone.

  “Not really,” said Tata.

  I noticed his skin had gathered a tinge of green. It must have been his blood at a higher pressure than normal showing through.

  “Lucky you. It looks like my parent wants to restrict my movements again. He just doesn’t realize how old I am.”

  Tata didn’t respond verbally; but he did give my arm a pat. That was a lot of contact for him, so I hoped that was sympathy I saw on his face.

  After our parents left, Officer Kikess signaled us to join him. “We will be leaving now. Try not to use your hands. Your parents will join us
at headquarters.” He and another officer took our arms and escorted us out to a vehicle.

  It proved a little tricky getting into the box-shaped car without using our hands. At least, both Tata and I had put our bags over our shoulders before we had encountered the body—which seemed like hours ago now.

  The inside of the car had numerous restraints and some unknown devices attached to the walls. Thankfully, Tata and I were left unencumbered and alone in the spacious backseat. Although roomy, the police car gave me the creeps, and the odors I decided to ignore.

  “You may talk, but again, try not to use your hands,” said Kikess, from the front.

  But neither Tata nor I seemed to have any desire to converse. I knew my nerves were frazzled, and I suspected Tata’s were too.

  So I gazed out the window and studied my view. The Basili sun had started to set and it painted the sky with hues of lavender. The color gave the predominantly glass buildings a sheen that made them lose their sharp angles. The view reminded me of how I felt—unearthly. Although, I would have to think of a better word; I was so far from home.

  Our presence at police headquarters garnered a load of attention, but it was perfectly understandable. Most of the Basilian population had not yet seen an Arandi or human. Our presence was recent and there were so few of us.

  Tata and I waited on stools—neither the Arandi nor Basilians used chairs with backs—for our parents to arrive. Then we all travelled downstairs to a lab-like room where Tata and I were examined.

  First they ran a machine over our hands to remove the goo.

  “Can I keep that?” I asked. I wanted a souvenir of our experience. This turned out to be a stupid question no one replied to. And I got the light when they put the goo in an evidence container.

  Then three other machines were run over our hands. I suspected one of them was used to look for blood. No ideas about the other two popped into my mind. Then they took a look at our clothing.

  Many blond hairs were picked off my garments. Since I had red hair, and both the Arandi and Basilians had golden ringlets, I wasn’t surprised they thought the hair was a clue. The same procedures were done to Tata’s coverings.