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The Ways Between Worlds: Peter Cooper

Page 35

by Larry E. Clarke


  It as the Dumpling! After causing the crew a few minutes of apprehension we came within hailing distance. They took in sail and came to a halt. We touched down just long enough to bring Captain Ativa and other old friends aboard up to date and to assure them they were on the proper heading for port. We shared an extra cask of good ale (sent with us at Uhrs’ insistence) before getting back on course.

  Two more days of days flying brought us in sight of the great rock on the horizon. A few hours later we were sitting with our former mates from the slave pens having a good meal and a cool drink. They described how the Dumpling had passed by some weeks earlier bringing the first load of trade good from the Threatian capital. She had taken on water and a cargo of spices and precious stones. After a few days in port she sailed on with a cargo of sunstones and a number of former slaves who took the opportunity to return to homes on the Eastern shores. Lady Camille and I assured them that she was nearing the Eastern shore and that some of those aboard might already be uniting with loved ones.

  Zeftal Nup, a former slave from the Reds group described how the mines were operating well as a community corporation. Each of the former slaves had received a share of stock for each year they had labored in the mines. Even the new arrivals would be well compensated as the trade in sunstones expanded to new markets. Those who continued to work earned additional stock for their labors. Those too old or infirm to return to mining began other businesses or made crafts for sale abroad. Those who wished could just retire. . .though few had a taste for just doing nothing. Work was progressing steadily to improve the living quarters for all. The place reminded me more than anything of a retirement community for the well elderly rather than a colony of dejected former slaves.

  Next stop was Arthena the Thretan capital. We stayed a few days visiting with friends, examining the progress toward a school for Keepers being made by the Captain and Palomas. We even paid a surprise visit to Ferst and his family and delivered a batch of sweets Moltan said used to be his favorite. Urs and Moltan had also written a epic letter bringing him up to date on their lives and on the major events in Mon-Ton since his departure. They urged him to bring Bellacia and the grandchildren as soon as there was any opportunity to do so.

  I used our days in the capital well savoring time with former captors who were now old friends. Lyallya and I spent several very enjoyable evening together recalling the times of misery and of triumph in Voquira. We shared that common experience, a bond of comrades in forced servitude, comrades in arms, and of a man and a woman who genuinely admired and cared for each other. It was glorious, and like all glorious times it eventually ended.

  After 6 days we resumed our journey, sliding easily through the mountain passes which had been so treacherous for our dirigible. We touched down briefly in Fresian territory before moving on. That evening, just minutes before sunset, out sled put down on the open space between our living quarters and the main departure terminal.

  Although we had been in touch with them frequently via the sled’s communication gear, there was no sign of Talus or Das-Tala until we called out: “Hello. . . Ahoy. . . Anyone around??” Talus came out from the living quarters and Das Tala followed a few seconds later from within the terminal building.

  “Praise the heavens” Das Tala shouted “but it is a treat for these eyes to see all of you again”. After a couple of rounds of back-slapping, hand shaking and hugs we were led inside to where supper was being prepared. Talus has just started a hearty stew to go with loaves of bread he had baking in his hand built mud oven. He went to their stores and brought out more ingredients to add to those already simmering. A short while later we had exchanged accounts of the last weeks. I spoke between mouthsfull of bread I’d dipped into the stew broth. It was so tasty I still use it as a benchmark for what “really good” flavor is.

  Afterward we retired to our old quarters and sorted through our belongings just unloaded from the sled. Lady Camille and I had decided we would depart around mid morning tomorrow. The resident Keepers said the equipment was working perfectly and that the coordinates for Camille’s world were ready to be laid in from the Kwajilii catalog. Out of courtesy to us. . . they insisted we double check what they had done. Out of courtesy to them. . . we gave a cursory look and pronounced every thing “fine”.

  LAST DAY:

  We had fruit juice, some roasted meats that had been prepared the evening before, toasted bread and a kind of fruit jam for breakfast. Lady C and I had collected and packed the things we'd take with us well before being called to breakfast. We moved together into the Departure terminal.

  Lady C. proved surprisingly agile as she slid atop the stone couch clutching the pack of items she would be taking with her. I took the adjoining couch and waited. At her suggestion I would wait 10 minutes before coming through. She would need the time she insisted to. . . “prepare others who might be waiting for the arrival of such a strange and unnatural looking alien”. She laid this on thick. I couldn’t tell if she was razzing me or if her people would be seriously shocked by my appearance! There was a light glow in the disk above her as she disappeared.

  In ten more minutes I’ll find out for myself. Just now I’m finishing this last entry in the manuscript of our travels. I’ll watch as Talus moves the controls to send it and some small artifacts (un-likely to cause any contamination in the airless environment of the moon) to the Kwajilli science station on the lunar backside. Wish me luck, I’m next. . .

  Peter. . . “Petar”.

  CHAPTER 39

  Planet: Pachem

  Personal To: Elad Snook,

  Sci. Tech IV

  Backside base, Luna

  Re: Power of Attorney

  Hello Elad. . . .I feel safe in assuming you are more than a little surprised to hear from me. This letter is attached to a packet of materials and a manuscript that should explain a lot for you and anyone else who has been wondering what happened to me. I’d love to see your face and the faces of the rest of our crew mates at Backside Station as you review it!

  Please give my best to all of the science team, especially to Janet in the Selenology sector. I’m guessing the base has been over run with new investigators since I disappeared from inside that alien igloo. I hope the core group has been able to hang on and complete their projects without too much interference... Now to business:

  To anyone who reads this letter I hearby proclaim (“proclaim”. . .how’s that for a non-lawyer trying to speak in legalese?) that Elad Allen Snook has power of attorney to act in my behalf in ALL matters. Specifically, he is authorized to take charge of my finances and to serve as my literary agent for the manuscript enclosed.

  Elad, you know the only real relative I have now is a nephew, a sophomore. . .no must be a junior currently attending the University of Missouri in Columbia. It is my wish, if you can wrest the manuscript (or at least its contents) away from the bureaucrats who will try to get their hands on it, that you have it published. If you find a publisher willing to pay something I hope you will use 60 percent (60%) any proceeds to establish a trust for my nephew: Jason DeShay of 1427 McAdoo Street, Fulton Mo. Set it up so he can draw on it immediately for any necessary educational expenses and a modest stipend for living, assuming there is enough to do that. He’s a good kid. In the event the manuscript proves to be of real value I don’t want his education spoiled by becoming a “trust” baby, so keep the total amount secret until he turns 25, unless in your opinion he has a genuine need for funds before then.

  You know I’ve always regarded you highly. For a lot of reasons I want you to take thirty percent (30%) of any proceeds for yourself. I’m sure your girls could use some bucks in their college funds too. Finally, I’ll keep 10% for myself. . . just in case. The password for my bank account with Bank of America is. . . #05SanDiego29. My pay had been going via electronic transfer to that account and hopefully still is. If you judge it a good idea. . . invest my 10% from the manuscript's sale in some good mutual fund. Or, you could also just
put it in the bank for me. Use your own judgment. Meanwhile. . . I’m off on what most would agree is the adventure of a life time. . . hell, of 100 lifetimes. Where I’m going they don’t take American Express, or Visa or dollars.

  All the best to you and the crew.

  Your friend. . . Coop

  Peter Cooper, Ph.D.

  Peter Cooper, Ph.D. (Sci. Tech III, Backside base, Luna)

  Wittnessed:

  Dhars Flonstrad Mercour

  Dhars Flonstrad Mercour (formerly, Lieutenant governor of Olmos, Pachem)

  Omeera Sarani

  Omeera Sarani (of Arthenia)

  * * *

 

 

 


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