The Hand of Grethia: A Space Opera

by Guy Antibes

  They were all proud of Diltrant’s naval prowess, although Tryst was located days from the sea. Diltrantian vessels could move without the wind and no one else on their world could. The details were a state secret, but a state secret that was a source of pride to these people.

  The excitement and support the people had for their government impressed Jan. It didn’t try to run their lives, yet it provided basic services they needed and they spoke of the promise of more to come.

  Jan felt an energy that he found infectious. He had never really considered the nature of indigenous cultures before. He wondered if he had planned out lifestyles like this out of existence without realizing that people might have lived in a very contented, stable culture, like Tryst. He did get the impression that under the Grethians, whoever they were, the people hadn’t fared so well.

  The barman was clearing Jan’s dishes. “Garst, the shopkeeper, is getting ready to receive his shipment of stock from Diltrant tomorrow. He’s always grumbling about how he can use some help. Getting his stock counted and put up on his shelves is generally a two-day job for him if he has to mind the store. His poor wife always comes up with a good excuse the day he gets a big delivery. He has always said if someone shows up who wants work, he wants to talk to them about helping him.”

  “Good.” Jan stifled a yawn. “If you could introduce us first thing in the morning, I’d be interested.” The innkeeper nodded as Jan was shown the way to his room.

  He sat on his bed. It seemed comfortable and clean enough. The rustic room took on a chill as the sun went down and Jan fled underneath the covers.

  The ceiling consisted of rude planks. In some ways it reminded himself of the cabin his mother and he owned on Impollon IV.

  ~

  “Get up, sleepy head!” the barman’s wife cheerfully shook him. “Garst is waiting downstairs to look at you.”

  Jan blinked. Somewhat disoriented with his surroundings for a brief second, he arose and looked out his window. Tryst already bustled with activity and the sun hadn’t even made it into the town from over the mountains. He poured a bit of water into a bowl on the dresser and washed his face, drying it on the rough, but clean, towel hanging from a rod on the side of a dresser. The polished metal mirror hanging over the dresser reflected the image of a young man with some concern on his face. Jan shaved and left the room after making his bed.

  Garst waited downstairs. With a white apron around his waist, he looked at the world through narrow eyes in a thin face. “You good with numbers?” he said as Jan entered the main room. He screwed up his face and rubbed his chin as Jan came down. “You a fast thinker?” Garst said, as he looked Jan right in the eye. The two men were of the same height. Unlike other villagers, Garst wore no cap. He was about forty with thinning hair.

  “Actually I’m really good with numbers and organization,” Jan said.

  Garst gave Jan a shrewd stare out of the corner of his eye. “Let’s see you add up 15, 24 and 26.” Garst said.

  “65,” said Jan quickly.

  “See, didn’t even need to put it to paper, Garst.” The barman nodded with a grin on his face, his hands on the top of the broom handle, “He’s a smart one.”

  “You’re hired for the day, whoever you are.” Garst put out his hand. “Hold out your hand.” Jan did as Garst asked, and then the shopkeeper slapped his open palm. “ Now we have an agreement. I’ll pay 25 tarns if you can get the stock counted, priced and on the shelves by the end of the day. 30 tarns if you have to do some more tomorrow. I’m leaving on a business trip as soon as you’re done and I don’t want to be held up.”

  Jan didn’t have a clue what kind of work was involved, but he figured that 25 tarns would more than pay his bill. Jan followed Garst out of the inn and down the street to a building with barrels in front and a wagon filled with boxes, sacks and other shapes.

  “I can help you get started unloading my goods,” Garst said. “But you’ll have to finish after I give you the instructions. I have them written down. I have a lot to do this morning.” he finished with more than a little acid to his voice.

  Jan thought that this shopkeeper was the least friendly person he had met thus far on this world, although his sample size was very, very small. Garst brusquely gave Jan the instructions both verbal and written, removed his apron and left the store without helping Jan get started as he promised. “Be back around lunch time,” Garst said, with his back to Jan, as he hopped off the porch of the shop and walked away without a backward glance.

  Jan puzzled through the stylized script that passed for Garst’s writing and began working. Between Garst’s instructions and the organized way he stored his goods, Jan didn’t see any trouble completing the task. He emptied the wagon and moved the barrels into the shop and distributed all of the goods within three hours. Jan found a broom and a dusting brush and cleaned out the store in another hour.

  Just after what appeared to be lunchtime, Garst came back to check on Jan’s work. “You’re through?” he said with a look of disbelief.

  He looked from place to place. He looked at the inventory list Jan had left on the long counter and went to some shelves and checked the count. “Amazing. No one’s ever completed stocking in such a short time, except me. Sit down here and tell me how you did it?” The man’s demeanor began to soften.

  Garst took a jug and two glasses from behind the counter, opened the jug and poured equal measures of what looked like ale into the glasses. He handed one to Jan and raised his eyebrows indicating expectation for Jan to talk.

  “Your instructions were well organized and thought out. I read them and looked at the way you organized your stock. I made up the inventory lists like you asked and then looked over your goods outside and went to work. You’ve done a good job at making your store follow good logic. I just followed your instructions. Nothing to it, really.”

  Garst looked at Jan with his squinty eye for a while and said, “You are the smartest boy I’ve had help me, ever. You’re on some special mission they tell me, getting over to Diltrant. I did some checking around this morning. Saw your tool kit in your room.” Garst took a long pull of the ale, looked in his glass then looked directly at Jan’s eyes. “You really intrigue me,” Garth said as he put his glass down. “In my spare time I’m an agent for our good King Obsomil. Now I don’t go spying around on people and stirring up trouble, but I just do a little measuring of the mood of the populace. My store here serves a few valleys and I go most anywhere if I’ve got a mind to, so I get around.”

  Garst looked out the window. “My second cousin is Lord Bloodin, a close advisor to King Obsomil, himself. You know Habamil?” Garst said, turning back to look directly at Jan.

  Jan shook his head.

  “The king’s brother has a police force with spies of his own. His men stir up trouble and I kinda keep my eye on them, too. There now, I’ve spilled my guts to you, now you do the same to me.”

  Jan hesitated. He struggled internally for a minute then decided he desperately needed more information about this place if he hoped to survive. Good information is more valuable than gold was one of the little mottos he learned in his Space Quest training. And to tell the truth of it, Jan admitted to himself, he was warming up the Garst, the shopkeeper/spy, and he believed what Garst had said.

  “This may be hard to believe, but I come from up there.” Jan pointed up with his finger. Looking at Garst for burst of laughter or anger.

  “Go on, lad. I’m listening.” Garst coolly said as he took another sip from his glass.

  “I was traveling in a ship that goes between planets. Do you know what a planet is?” Jan asked.

  “Yes,” Garst said seriously. “Only someone from off of our world would think us stupid enough not to know that. As I said, I sneaked into your room to see your tools. They weren’t made on Grethia. Your tools look brand new, not like Grethian relics. Makes sense you’re from someplace else. Go on.”

  Jan had no idea what Grethian relics were, but his
heart lightened. Garst just might have changed from curmudgeon storekeeper to ally. Jan needed all the allies he could get. How woefully inadequate his Space Quest training seemed in practice.

  “My ship had trouble. We’ve developed a way to go more quickly between planets and suns in a special section of space. I had trouble in there because my ship lost a great deal of power. When I came out, I only had enough to get to this planet. I landed in the high country and decided I needed to walk down to the big city along the river by the sea. I assume that must be your capital city. It was the biggest in this part of the continent.”

  “You saw our capital city, Diltrant, from the sky?”

  “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  “What does it look like from up there?”

  “It looks like a growing city. I could see the older parts with smaller curving streets--like the ones close to what I would think is the palace. As you go up the river the streets get bigger and straighter where the newer parts of the city are. I think the town started as a castle up on a hill a few miles from a village, which might have started out as a fishing village or a small trading port. The village and castle gradually merged. You can tell by the streets and building sizes where better planning started.” Jan shrugged his shoulders.

  “See here,” Jan made some adjustments to his watch and up came a map of Grethia. It took Jan another moment and they looked at the city of Diltrant from above.

  Garst nodded, visibly astonished by the map, yet Jan could see him get excited as he realized what he looked at. “That’s exactly what happened, boy. Why did you decide to come to Diltrant? There are other, bigger places, Port Alchant, Ilvant, and Actobal.” He couldn’t tear his view from the map.

  “Power emissions and a higher technology, I hope. I detected a constant level of low power emissions in Diltrant. I thought that the higher the technology, the easier it would be to accept me for what I am, an alien from a more advanced culture.”

  “Show me another of your wonder tools, Jan. You astonish me.”

  “My blaster is in my room. It is actually a weapon of great power. But here, I have a small trinket in my pocket.” He handed a pic-cube to Garst. It appeared to be a small black cube. “Now touch the yellow dot on the end of one of the corners.”

  Garst did as Jan asked. His eyes widened when he saw images emerge to form a small holographic scene projected above the cube. The figures, dressed in what must be strange clothing to Garst, moved in the scene. The action stopped and the scene faded. “Sort of like the map sprouting out of the watch?”

  Jan nodded. “Those were some friends of mine. The speaker was a former girlfriend.” If you touch the red dot, you can see my mother. She is giving me a lecture on why I shouldn’t work for my father. Now she is dead.” Jan clamped his mouth tight.

  A sense of despair and loneliness shot through him. He took a drink of his ale and picked up the cube.

  “I believe you,” Garst said. “I believe you. Legend has it that on Grethia, they could do many things. Magic. Things like this and other wonders. The Grethian priests still claim to have some of that magic. Now what about this special mission?”

  “Just for myself.” Jan admitted. “I am trying to see if I can get enough power for my ship and leave. I don’t know quite what to do if I can’t locate any power sources. Most of my tools and trinkets will lose their energy after a while and won’t be operational. But I can pay for whatever I need by getting more technology into your culture, if I’m permitted.” Jan said. “Maybe I’ll have to invent my way back out into space.”

  “What technology?” Garst asked.

  “You probably don’t understand how this stuff works, do you?” Jan said. “I’m sure your engines are very primitive. I can design better ones.”

  “How much do you know about our engines?” Garst said.

  “Only that’s what I sensed from my ship.” Jan replied.

  Garst relaxed at that. “Our technology is a state secret. If you knew how they worked, you would find things much more difficult here.”

  “I know about a lot more than engine.” He had to make sure Garst thought him to be valuable. “As you admitted, I’m really smart. I come from a universe where the level of technology will stun you a great deal more than my watch or that little picture cube.”

  “I don’t believe in magic.”

  Jan took his watch off and handed to Garst with the screen still projecting. “No magic. You have wheels on your wagon. That makes it much easier for you to get your goods in and out of Tryst. I just have more advanced technology that will work for you as well as it does for me.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me believing in you, lad.” Garst handed back the watch. “Can we enter into a little agreement? I’ll help you get an audience with Obsomil, if you will learn a little of our ways so you won’t stick out like a sore thumb. I can escort you about half way to Diltrant and from then on, you’re on your own until you can get an audience to see my cousin. “

  “That sounds fair enough to me,” Jan said.

  “But let me warn you, for all the friendliness you’ve probably felt here in Tryst, Diltrant is another story. Trust is not always a freely given commodity in our capital city. I absolutely do not trust Lord Habamil, the king’s brother. Don’t tell anyone I told you that! You will have to watch him. Obsomil has too soft of a spot in his heart for him, but some day Habamil will overstep his bounds and Obsomil will regret his reluctance to keep him in check.” Garst paused to think for a few moments. “We can talk of this later. Get your things from the inn. We leave right after I close up shop tonight.”

  “Who will take care of it tomorrow?” Jan asked.

  “My wife does. She’s home with a sick kid today.”

  Jan smiled, remembering the barman’s fact about Garst’s wife and her excuses.

  Just like back home,Jan thought.This is a real person on a distant planet. He has a family. He’s telling me of his home, of the politics. But I must remember, he sees some value in me and I obviously see value in him. Now we can use each other to our own ends... I just hope the ends match.

  Garst took the two glasses and put them back under the counter as a customer walked in. His face split into a grin.

  ~~~

  Chapter 6

  Garst pulled his wagon to a stop as the sun set. “Time to get settled for the night.”

  “How far to Diltrant?” Jan said as he helped unpack bedrolls and the portable stove that Garst preferred over an open fire.

  “About ten days for you. I’ll be with you for three of those. There is a pottery factory where I occasionally buy some crockery. It’s a little out of the way, but there is a good trail from there into Diltrant.”

  “Tell me some more about Diltrant, Garst.” Jan said.

  “You told me its history from your sky view. What that picture doesn’t say is about fifty years ago, Obsomil’s grandfather, Somilan, threw out the Grethian priesthood and sponsored invention and learning. He established schools and gave everyone the opportunity to read and write and learn numbers. He also had advisors develop planning guidelines for the city. That’s where the wider and straighter streets came from.

  “Today, manufacturing is done in a factories and there is the University, although these days it has been moved to a town two days upriver.”

  “What is Obsomil like? Have you met him?”

  “I have seen him many times and, as I said, my relation, Lord Bloodin, is his aide. He is a very intelligent fellow, our king, but he has an emotional side. Sometimes, I think he feels a little too much passion for his own good. Letting his brother run around with his secret police is a good case in point. A cold, hard, intelligent man would see through the ties of blood.

  “But let me tell you, Jan, King Obsomil is a great king and the right king for right now. He has the love of his people and has been as innovative as Somilan. He is every bit the visionary his granddad was, and he rules just as well and justly, if a bit too emotionally.”


  “What do you think he will make of me?” Jan said.

  Garst gave Jan a long look. “I don’t know... I just don’t know…” he half said to himself. “Obsomil is not naive and doesn’t trust people easily, save his brother. He will be curious. I daresay he will believe you, since your tools will convince his practical side of that.”

  “Why don’t you come with me?” Jan said with narrowing eyes as he felt a stab of anxiety.

  “I have other things to do. Don’t worry, I’ll send a message to Bloodin by my usual means to validate your story and our ‘understanding’. My message should get to Diltrant before you do. I think it will be useful to observe if Habamil’s men find you before you find Bloodin.”

  “I suppose I have nothing to fear?” Jan said wryly with one side of his mouth turned up.

  “Nothing to fear but Obsomil, Habamil, all of Diltrant, Murgrontia and the Grethian Priesthood. That’s all. We’ll talk more tomorrow. I’d like to learn more about the world up there, but...tomorrow.” Garst yawned and rolled out his blankets and in a couple of minutes was snoring away.

  Jan took out his blankets and spread it over a bed of leaves. He looked up at the sky and looked at the Grethian heavens with a lot fewer stars in strange constellations than night on Impollon IV.

  The day dawned with the heavy mist common to the mountains, according to Garst. Jan’s blankets were nearly wet with dew when the dim sun poked its way through and shined weakly on his face. Garst had already gotten up and had just started up the coals in his iron stove.

  “You want some brew?” Garst asked, putting an herb powder in a pot of boiling water. “It looks like it will be a clear day like yesterday. What is it like on a different planet? Is the sky a different color? Here it is blue. What is it on your home world?”

  “Blue, like this, but the sun is more white. Many planets fit for humans have blue skies, but not all, by any means.” Jan thought of the Grethian priesthood. “What kind of religion does Diltrant have?”