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Tranquility Lost

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by J. L. Doty




  Tranquility Lost

  A Commonwealth Re-contact Novella

  by

  J. L. Doty

  This book or eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Tranquility Lost, A Commonwealth Re-contact Novella

  This book or eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book or eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you’re reading this book or eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Copyright © 2020 J. L. Doty. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Cover designed by Telemachus Press, LLC.

  Published by Telemachus Press, LLC

  http://www.telemachuspress.com

  Visit the author’s website:

  http://www.jldoty.com

  ISBN: 978–1–951744–34–2 (eBook)

  Version 2020.06.29

  KEpuz!po!EFTLUPQ.6CV292J:

  Formatted using eTools for Writers 3.8.8, Jun 29 2020, 06:42:38

  Copyright © 2013–2016 by J. L. Doty

  Contents

  1 Long Ago; The Beast

  2 Long Ago; The Beast Contained

  3 Better Than Nothing

  4 A Travelling Companion

  5 Nothing Adds Up

  6 Disposal

  7 A Friend Lost

  8 Unmasked

  9 Intervention

  A Note from Jim on

  Commonwealth Re-contact Novellas

  A note from Jim

  Sample Chapters:

  The Blacksword Regiment, Book 1

  1 Taken

  2 Hanging, Leaning, Hanging, Leaning

  3 Never Forget

  4 Without Hope

  Acknowledgements

  Books by J. L. Doty

  About the Author

  Tranquility Lost

  A Commonwealth Re-contact Novella

  1

  Long Ago;

  The Beast

  THE GROAN OF the big ship’s engines went silent, telling Brother Tranquility that her crew had achieved a stable orbit around the remote planet. And that meant that he was late, so he quickened his pace as he hurried down the corridor to the shuttle bay. It would be unseemly to keep Brother Superior Charles waiting, though it would also be unseemly for even a junior member of the Order to be seen running with his robes flapping behind him. Tranquility moderated his pace.

  As he stepped through the hatch into the shuttle bay he quickly scanned his surroundings. To his great relief, Charles had yet to arrive. A shuttle boat dominated the space, resting on its docking boom. A half-dozen crew members moved about purposefully, preparing it for the drop to the planet’s surface. Designed to carry passengers and equipment, it exhibited a squat and ugly profile. But unlike the transition ship, which had been built in orbit and would never enter atmosphere, the boat had been constructed with the aerodynamic lines of a vessel that must perform in any environment. Tranquility stepped to one side and waited patiently, trying to stay out of the way.

  Brother Charles arrived a few moments later and Tranquility bowed his head in acknowledgement of the older man’s rank. Charles smiled, but his snow-white eyebrows didn’t rise to complete the gesture, while lines of strain around his eyes made it a smile only of the lips and belied its sincerity. Throughout the month-long passage through interstellar space, the older man’s unease had increased visibly as the light-years separating them from this planet had dwindled. Charles asked, “How fare you this morning, Brother Tranquility?”

  Tranquility answered with the standard response. “I stand ready to serve, Your Grace.”

  A crewman of higher rank than the others approached them. “Your Grace,” he said to Charles. “The shuttle is ready. If you please, I’ll show you to your seat.”

  Charles nodded and said, “Thank you, lieutenant.”

  The crewman led them through the open hatch of the shuttle boat and into its main cabin. It easily could have seated twenty or more, but Tranquility and Charles were its only passengers that day, just as they had been the sole purpose for diverting one of the Order’s armed frigates to this system. Throughout the journey there Tranquility had wondered about that.

  Charles indicated a row of seats in the middle of the cabin and said to Tranquility, “Why don’t you sit near the window so you can enjoy the view?”

  The young officer grimaced. “Won’t be much of a view, Your Grace. The weather down there is pretty foul today.”

  Tranquility took the indicated seat, and Charles sat next to him. The crewman helped them get strapped in, and took extra care to insure that their harnesses were snug but comfortable. He left them there and strapped into a seat near the back of the large cabin.

  The boat’s open hatch cycled shut with a loud crump. They sat in silence for several seconds as the crew exited the shuttle bay. Tranquility’s stomach climbed up into his throat when they cut the bay’s gravity field, then dropped back down into his gut when the pilot activated the boat’s internal gravity. The loud whine of pumps broke the silence as the transition ship’s crew evacuated the shuttle bay, and when the massive doors of the bay opened to the vacuum of space, a small amount of residual air produced a momentary puff of thin fog. Through his window, Tranquility saw a black square of space outlined by the bay doors, with the brownish globe of a cloud-wrapped planet filling one corner. A loud clang echoed through the boat’s hull as the docking boom slid them out and released them from the grip of the larger ship, though the boat’s internal gravity fields compensated and Tranquility felt no sense of motion.

  Brother Charles placed a hand gently on his arm to get his attention. Tranquility turned away from the window and looked into the older man’s eyes. They were troubled and fearful.

  Charles said, “Here we will find one of the few remaining Masters who knows how to perpetuate the Devastation.” It was a brief moment of candor from the old man. “Pray for me, Brother Tranquility. For the good of all, pray that neither he nor I survive this.”

  ••••

  As the shuttle plunged down through the atmosphere toward the surface of the planet, Brother Tranquility could not put Charles’s words from his mind. He had only recently laid aside his novitiate’s robes and donned those of an initiate, and he still wondered why they had chosen him to accompany Charles, so senior a member of the Order and an elevated Master. And what did this visit to a remote planet have to do with the Devastation, a cancer that had already destroyed many planets and a good portion of their civilization, and threatened to consume the rest? Young initiates like Tranquility had learned early-on that to even mention the Devastation in the presence of a Master brought forth a disapproving scowl, and sometimes a harsh rebuke, so he knew little of the illness that gnawed at the heart of the
Order.

  It occurred to him that that thought alone meant he knew something. Somewhere, somehow, without realizing it, he had surmised that the malignancy they feared came from within the Order itself, not from some aberration or criminal element in the populace. Swaths of star systems had already been wiped out, hundreds of millions of souls lost, and the citizenry were its victims, not its perpetrators.

  The shuttle dropped through a thick layer of cloud into a gray haze of unremitting rain. Drops of water raced horizontally across the outside of his window as the shuttle descended, and not until the boat leveled off within a few thousand meters of the ground did he see anything beyond the dim haze. He got the impression of a cold, muddy, desolate place, and fear gripped his heart as he thought it might be the last place he ever saw, though why such a premonition had come to him he could not say.

  Again, Brother Charles touched his arm and drew his attention away from the window.

  “Tranquility,” Charles said, “you know we’re going down there to meet Brother Superior Deland. What do you know of him?”

  Tranquility shrugged. “Almost nothing, Your Grace. Only that he, like you, was elevated to the rank of Master long before I was born.”

  Tranquility didn’t say it, but he also knew that while Deland and Charles shared the same rank, Charles had borne the responsibilities of a Master far longer than Deland, and stood much higher in the hierarchy of the Order.

  The young ship’s officer had been right about the foul weather. It buffeted the shuttle as it descended toward the ground, though again the boat’s internal gravity fields compensated nicely and Tranquility felt nothing. They passed over a large city of low buildings constructed with what appeared to be wood and natural stone, with not a single one standing taller than about three stories. The complete lack of the use of plast surprised Tranquility.

  Just outside the city the shuttle leveled off then came to a stop a few hundred meters above a small shuttle port. A row of low buildings lined one side of a narrow strip of tarmac. They appeared to be constructed of concrete, with some use of natural stone. It surprised Tranquility that he saw no other grav boats parked there, and no traffic in the sky about them. The shuttle port looked too much like the hasty construction performed upon first descent on a new planet. After several decades of occupancy they should have upgraded and improved the facilities far beyond what he saw now.

  The pilot lowered their shuttle slowly in a vertical descent toward the ground and touched down gently. In Tranquility’s experience military shuttle pilots tended to be much more cavalier in the way they handled their craft, slamming the boat toward the ground at breakneck speed and coming to a stop only at the last moment. The lack of any sense of motion because of the internal gravity compensation didn’t prevent a gut-wrenching tightening of the stomach muscles if one happened to be looking out a window at that moment. But with such a senior member of the Order on board, the pilot had clearly decided to behave.

  The shuttle had only just come to a stop when the young officer appeared in the aisle next to them. “Brother Deland has sent a car for you.”

  He escorted them both to the hatch, cycled it open and preceded them out onto the tarmac. The rain had slackened to a light drizzle, but driven by icy gusts of wind the drops slanted down at a sharp angle and pelted Tranquility’s face.

  He noticed that beneath his feet the tarmac was cracked and split, with tufts of plant life sprouting up in the small fissures. And the nearby buildings appeared abandoned, decayed, and close to collapse.

  A large boxy automobile spewing noxious exhaust fumes pulled up and stopped nearby. One of its doors creaked loudly as it swung open and a short, balding man stepped out, clutching the lapels of his coat tightly against the wind and rain.

  “Your Grace,” he said, almost shouting to be heard above the wind. “I’m Brother Jenkin, Brother Deland’s assistant.”

  He indicated the open door of the sedan. “You should step out of this horrendous weather before you take a chill.”

  Jenkin helped Charles into the back seat of the car. Tranquility glanced at the young ship’s officer standing next to him and the fellow said, “I’ll wait with the shuttle.”

  From within the car, Charles said, “No need to wait. We may be several days.”

  “Believe me, Your Grace,” the young officer said, smiling. “The boat is well equipped so we’ll be quite comfortable.”

  The young man glanced dubiously at the primitive technology of the automobile. “Quite possibly more comfortable than you.”

  Tranquility joined Charles in the back of the sedan, relieved to get out of the weather. Jenkin climbed into the front seat next to the driver and craned his neck around to look at Charles. “I hope you’ll forgive the rather primitive nature of our transport.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Charles said. Tranquility heard the strain in his voice, though he knew the older man’s trepidation did not stem from the outmoded means of travel.

  Jenkin continued. “We’ve had to make do with what we can cobble together from old equipment, and Brother Deland hopes that your visit means that will change.”

  Tranquility found it odd that they had been forced to improvise such primitive technologies, and thought he might ask Brother Charles about that when they found a moment alone.

  The sedan pulled out of the shuttle port onto a paved road. The first thing that Tranquility noticed was that the paving on the road they followed was the exception rather than the rule. Most of the roads that met it were simple dirt tracks that the rain had turned into deeply rutted mud.

  The automobile slowed as it pulled up behind a horse-drawn wagon. Their driver hesitated for a few seconds, then hit the accelerator. The car jerked and shuttered, and Tranquility thought its engine might die. But then it appeared to recover, sped up and passed the wagon. The man sitting in the wagon’s box and holding the reins of the horses wore clothing that appeared to be little better than rags, with a look on his face that spoke of drudgery and hopelessness.

  It piqued Tranquility’s curiosity to ride in a car not elevated above the road by gravitational fields. While Jenkin engaged Charles in conversation, Tranquility paid close attention to the tableau beyond the sedan’s window. Repeatedly, he saw farmers tilling their fields with plows pulled by some sort of bovine animal, and only once did he see a mechanized tractor in use. Like the automobile in which they rode, it seemed poorly designed, and spewed ugly clouds of thick, bluish-black smoke. Workers toiled in fields in mud up to their knees, their clothing no better than the rags the wagon driver had worn, their backs bent as if life carried a heavy burden. Surely their lot could be improved with the use of more modern conveniences, even on a colony world such as this. Wasn’t that, after all, the purpose of the Order? “But then,” Tranquility whispered, “perhaps the demons I see are merely my own ignorance.”

  “What was that?” Charles asked.

  “Nothing, Your Grace,” Tranquility lied. “Just a short prayer.”

  Charles nodded and smiled. “I know you’re wondering why I brought you. Your piety and devotion had quite a bit to do with your selection. Regardless of what happens, I know you won’t let the temptation of this cancer corrupt you.”

  Tranquility did not understand the old man’s words.

  A stone wall a little taller than the height of a man surrounded Deland’s estate. At the main entrance a guard carrying a primitive rifle glanced into the sedan’s interior, nodded, then swung a heavy gate of iron bars inward. The drive from the gate to the manor house stretched for more than two hundred meters, and Tranquility wondered at the labor needed to surround the entire place with such a wall. It seemed to him that such resources might be better spent improving the lot of the poor people toiling in the fields. But then Tranquility chided himself for questioning the wisdom of his elders.

  Their driver pulled the car beneath a covered portico in a central courtyard in front of the manor house. He and Jenkin both jumped out of the automob
ile to open the rear doors and hold them for their two passengers. Tranquility stepped out onto crushed gravel, protected from the rain by the portico. He looked up at the manor house which loomed above them, an enormous structure built of carved, yellow, sandstone blocks.

  A tall distinguished man emerged from the main entrance of the house. He had a strikingly handsome face and dark hair with a touch of gray at the temples. A beautiful woman hung on his arm possessively, her hair trailing down her back in long, golden strands.

  “Brother Charles,” the man said in a deep baritone. “How good to see you after all these years.”

  Charles nodded politely and said, “Brother Deland, the pleasure is mine.” Tranquility sensed the lie in his words.

  Deland released the woman’s arm, stepped forward and embraced Charles warmly. Charming and handsome, he appeared quite young to be an elevated Master, but then there were so few Masters left Tranquility didn’t feel qualified to judge.

  He released Charles and turned to Tranquility. “And who is this young fellow?”

  “My assistant,” Charles said, “and my protégé, Brother Tranquility. He’s rather new to his initiate’s robes.”

  Deland smiled. “You’re lucky to apprentice to one such as Charles.”

  Deland’s mental probe brushed across Tranquility’s mind. It was rude of him to intrude so, but the vast difference in their ranks required Tranquility to open his soul and allow the Master full freedom to rummage about in his thoughts. Apparently Deland found nothing to displease him. He smiled again and said, “Brother Tranquility, come forward.”

  As Tranquility obeyed, Deland held out his hand, not really a proper greeting, but again Tranquility had no choice but to drop to one knee and kiss the ring of office on his bride finger.

  “Rise, Brother Tranquility,” Deland said regally, and as Tranquility did so he noticed a look of distaste on Charles’s face.

  Deland introduced the woman as Layla, then said, “Come. It’s the dinner hour. I’ve prepared a small banquet in your honor, and invited some friends I think you’ll enjoy meeting.”

 

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