The Hand of Grethia: A Space Opera

Home > Fantasy > The Hand of Grethia: A Space Opera > Page 31
The Hand of Grethia: A Space Opera Page 31

by Guy Antibes


  Jan pulled a data tab from his pocket. Looking directly at Trimpnell, He held out the tab to his father and said, “Here is your own copy of the complaints that I have sworn against him and his mother. All of the evidence has been submitted to the FPF judicial system. It also contains copies of the warrants for the arrest of Trimpnell, Josette Smith, Rollo and Royanne Freemen for grand theft.”

  Now Jan looked directly at his father. “They will certainly be convicted. Both your wife and stepson conspired to kill me. You know what the penalty for that is?” Artis paled and clutched his throat. How could he have so utterly underestimated his son?

  ~

  “Now, I have even worse news for you.” Jan breathed in deeply. “You are no longer the chairman of the company. I have appointed King Obsomil as chairman. These actions took place an hour ago. You may check with the company secretary via hypernet, if you don’t believe me. The planet Grethia is now essentially owned by itself and will deal with itself as it chooses. All of the documents relating to my control are on the same tab you hold in your hand.

  “As for Riban.” At the mention of his name Riban walked into the midst of the tableau. “He gave you truthful information, yes. But he did not give you the full picture. He was never out of my employ. I also listened to some of your conversations with him. I don’t approve of your methods any more than my mother did. Obsomil and I agree that your services are no longer needed at Smith Mercantile. You may enter your ship to confirm what I have said and then return to Impollon IV and clean out your office. I will have guards standing by. The law will determine if you will face further criminal charges. I have not bothered to personally press any against you. Consider it an act of filial love. I have no evidence that you acted along with your family to steal from me or attempt to kill me.” With those words Artis began to redden and become agitated.

  Jan turned and walked off. He exhaled heavily. His clothes felt sticky with sweat.

  “I won’t take this lying down!” Smith yelled at Jan’s back. “You can’t keep me off of my planet. I’ll issue more stock! I’ll dilute the hell out of your position! We have ways for taking care of you. You are just like your mother, may she rot in hell. You need to be ruthless to succeed!”

  Jan turned around, his face ravaged by emotion, “No, father, you don’t need to be ruthless. Tough, yes, because perfect solutions are rarely available and you have to make dispassionate decisions that affect many people. You took compassion out of your life and out of decision-making altogether. That’s your problem. When that happened, you lost your humanity, and you lost your first family. I always tried to look for it in you, to impute that you had it. But it isn’t really there, is it? For that I pity you. As for trying to wrest control from me, think again. My wealth and ability to generate wealth can fund a planet-full of lawyers forever. You just don’t have it. Don’t even try.” Jan said coldly. All eyes watched him as he turned and walked away until the crowd swallowed him up.

  ~

  Artis Smith, creator of Smith Mercantile, former owner of a hundred planets, gazed at the crowds, but he saw nothing but his own demise. With sagging shoulders, he saw Trimpnell taken away into the FPF ship. He turned and walked listlessly back to the SM ship and verified that that Jan spoken the truth, the very painful truth. With his family in tatters, perhaps retirement might be preferable to a fight that he knew he couldn’t win.

  ~

  At Obsomil’s palace a few days later, the major players in Grethia’s transformation met again sitting around the long black table. Jan looked out the window and turned around when the king walked into the room. He didn’t feel the thrill of victory like Obsomil. He’d destroyed his father. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about ruining the man. Trimpnell and Rollo certainly would reap the reward that came to thieves, but where did that leave him?

  “We will now be parting company with our friends for awhile.” The king began. “Jan, words do not adequately convey the gratitude we have for you. Your actions have liberated a world and transformed humankind in the known universe. Our undying appreciation goes with you as you return to Impollon IV. And now I have an important announcement to make…”

  Obsomil grinned at Merinnia and Riban. They both rose. This development took Jan completely by surprise. “My daughter and one of her two tutors have decided to marry. Riban is to marry Merinnia!” The hall erupted into applause and wishes of good will to the couple.

  Jan was taken aback. He didn’t even realize that Merinnia and Riban were more than good friends. They hadn’t talked to him about any of this. A sinking feeling grabbed Jan.My patience with Merinnia and my time off-planet getting Grethian Industries started and my hesitancy had thrown her right into Riban’s arms.

  “Jan has appointed Riban to run Smith Mercantile as soon as it is arranged to merge with Grethia Industries. Merinnia, who has been smitten by the worlds outside will accompany him to Impollon IV as his wife and act as our official liaison.” There was more applause and Jan reluctantly joined in.

  Jan walked up to the couple and held their hands. Astonishment still clouded his thoughts, but he had to say something. “I didn’t even know about this. I had assumed that…” he left his thoughts drift, unsaid and struggled to remain smiling.

  Merinnia punched him in the arm. “You have been the best brother a girl could ever hope for. Riban and I can’t express our gratitude for all you’ve done,” Merinnia said with a radiant smile and eyes full of heartfelt tears, and then she kissed him on the cheek. He had to keep from flinching.

  Jan had thought that Merinnia and he would let their relationship mature. And now, he didn’t know what he would do. “I… I wish you the best. I really do,” hugging both of them and hoping that his smile didn’t look too much like a grimace.

  His personal space ship had crashed on a bleak planet. He’d gone through all of this for what? Jan’s thought of a few moments that rushed back to him. What would he do? He couldn’t remove Riban for taking away Merinnia. She was never Jan’s in the first place. He couldn’t face a career at SM with Riban at the helm.

  He left the hall as soon as he could in a daze. He’d have to rebuild his life, but into what?

  ~~~

  Chapter 44

  The ship touched down at a remote spot on Gyron III. Well-maintained fields spoke of a successful farm carved out of the surrounding wilderness. Jan Smith walked out of the ship. He was greeted by a smiling elderly man and his wife.

  “Mr. Smith. I am so glad you have come to visit.”

  “I’m glad I have finally been able to come, Osker. Is everything all right?” Jan said.

  “Yes, sir. You were right about this valley. It is a wonderful farm for us. Randine has come with us to Gyron III, but she lives in the city and comes for visits. The Androvny’s are very happy, thanks to you.”

  “I’m glad. Do you mind if I walk around by myself for a little bit?” The couple smiled indulgently at him.

  Jan walked around the farmhouse and buildings and strolled to the spot where the Wankles had been buried by Merinnia and Jan when they first ventured out from Grethia.

  Tears welled up in Jan’s eyes as he looked at the white picket fence surrounding the gravesites. The new markers that he had ordered look very nice. At the front of the little park, stood a statue in bronze that represented the Wankle family. He never did find out what they looked like. His emotions were full. Not just for the Wankle tragedy, but for all that had occurred in the last three years.

  He spoke out loud, “Here I am, rich beyond belief. What have I accomplished? I’ve saved a planet from itself. I’ve transformed the known universe. I have avenged the wrongs of Artis and his family. I’ve even helped Osker escape from Rexalt’s doom and gloom. I should feel great… but I don’t. I don’t want to rule Grethia. I don’t want to run SM, not now. Luckily, they are both in great hands. I don’t need to be the richest person in the universe, although I’m probably close, as it is. I am, again, the free agent I was when I set ou
t on the Space Quest, so many months ago. If I don’t want to be a king or a tycoon, what do I want to be? I guess I’m smart enough to figure something out. Thank you for listening, Wankles.” He sighed and turned back towards the farm.

  The sun was setting as Jan waved goodbye to the couple as he walked over to his old ship controlled by the same 202X computer that saved his life. A few minutes later, Jan lifted off back into space.

  If you could, please leave a review ofThe Hand of Grethia where you purchased this book. Guy will greatly appreciate it.

  For a glimpse into Guy’s new historical, paranormal, science fiction fantasy serial, read on. To get advanced notification on new Guy Antibes books, go to his website: www.guyantibes.com.

  The

  Vampiric Menace

  ANORIA OF VALIR - BOOK ONE EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  One couldn’t tell where the mist ended and the low clouds began as the day turned to night. Anoria Norgan walked quickly through the slick, wet streets of Partenkirchen, a picturesque village snuggled in the midst of the Bavarian Alps. The mist quickly turned into a cold drizzle mixed with snow just as she took refuge in a little restaurant. The gaslight lanterns inside barely lit up the street, but that didn’t matter to her. Anoria could see quite well in the dark.

  She shivered from the cold, even now that she stood, bathed in the heat of the room, and shook the moisture from her fur coat as she looked around.

  “Over here.” Lorian, her centuries-long partner, raised his beefy hand, and then beckoned her over to a table. She always thrilled at the sight of his magnificent face. Much taller than an average human, he also possessed the bulk to match. A little man sat at his side, hunched over a beer stein, held tightly with both hands.

  She hung her coat along a row of half-filled coat hooks and straightened out the front of her dress. She looked around at the other women. None were dressed as stylishly as she, but then it was 1905 and they were in an alpine village. A number of the patrons were dressed in the local alpine costume. Let them, she thought. These were humans having their fun.

  She took a deep breath and let Lorian pull out a chair for her. Anoria smiled and crinkled her eyes at Lorian. Some human customs developed in the last century or so were rather nice. A waiter walked by, a starched white apron covered his striped trousers. He bowed to her.

  “The other gentlemen have ordered.” He presented her with a menu.

  “Do you have anything other than pork?” Anoria said while she scanned the menu. She had had enough pork during her recent stay in nearby Munich.

  “This is a veal dish,” he pointed to a menu item that didn’t describe the meat.

  “I’ll have that, then, and some white wine.” She smiled and returned the menu.

  The two men sat silently, each in their own thoughts, until she had ordered. “Anoria, this is my helper, Hans Dietrich.” Lorian spoke flawless German, of course. During their four hundred years together, they had both learned all of the major European languages and those of the Levant. Lorian’s commanded all of the many dialects they had learned, while she struggled with only a few in each language. “He’s here to deliver his last report.”

  Anoria had spent the last two weeks in Munich, researching the records and sending out many telegrams to Lorian verifying the movements of their targets. From what she could tell, all of them had traveled to Partenkirchen for the night’s festivities.

  A server put a mug of something steaming in front of her. Chocolate? If so, that was Lorian’s doing. She took a deep sniff above the mug and smiled at him again, and then at Dietrich, who leaned towards them, looking around as if they were watched. Good for Dietrich, she thought. They might well be and it didn’t pay to let up on one’s guard.

  She took a sip and let the hot, sweet liquid trickle down her throat. The taste would likely spoil the enjoyment of her dinner, but Anoria didn’t care. The warmth and the taste were comforting on such a bitter night.

  “The meeting is still on at the Schachen King’s House,” Dietrich said. “Carriages have delivered a number of your…” he cleared his throat, “friends. They have all brought servants with them, as you predicted, Herr Brodon. There are only a few carriages from Partenkirchen still on the track that takes them to the remote castle.”

  Anoria looked at Lorian with near-breathlessness. “All of them, you think?” he asked.

  She nodded and presented him with a grim smile. “From what I can tell, they are all meeting at the King’s House,” she said.

  He gave her that little half smile that she could never tire of. “Yes, every five years at the first new moon of January, they gather to review their plans for the domination Germany and the rest of Central Europe, and then they gorge themselves to insensibility. Our quest is nearly over in Europe, my dear. Then it’s on to America for the very last of the Ostreyan covens.”

  “Austrian?” Dietrich said. “They are all German, with most from Bavaria.” He furrowed his brow, and then took a wrinkled sheaf of papers from his coat. “This is my list. You can compare it with yours to check if they all accounted for.” The little man slid the list over to Anoria.

  “Ostreyan. Different spelling and slightly different pronunciation. They are, as you know, a… a secret society that have been preying on all of Europe and beyond since the middle ages.” He turned to her. “Drink up, Anoria. It will be a long night,” Lorian said as he slid a thick envelope over to Dietrich. “Here is your remuneration. The last train out of here leaves in…” he looked at his timepiece. “Twenty minutes. You ticket is on the top. Make sure you are on it, for your own good.”

  Dietrich nodded and gave a curt nod to Anoria. The little man retrieved his coat, and then scuttled out into the now-snowy night. Anoria looked at him pass by the window, glad that he was out of the way.

  “I don’t like him,” she said, taking Lorian’s hand in both of hers. She screwed up her face to show her distaste. “Can he be trusted?” Tonight’s stakes were the highest they had ever faced and she worried about their success.

  Lorian shrugged with the supreme confidence he always, always exhibited. She’d never seen a reason to doubt it. “As much as anyone I’ve known for only three weeks. Drink up your chocolate.” He flashed her one of those smiles that made her wilt. “After dinner, we’ll go back to the hotel and change into our Recovery suits. He doesn’t know that you are my active partner, my dear. If he thinks of betraying me to them, we will give the Ostreyans a surprise. Two Valirians instead of one. It’s going to be a chilly ride to get to the King’s House just as the vampiric Ostreyans have used up all of their servants.”

  Anoria blinked. Her food arrived and she began to eat. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was finished before Lorian. “Are we all set, then?” she said.

  “That’s right. Our horses are waiting for us. I procured the best the stable had.” Lorian rubbed her hand and then kissed it. “Time to go,” he whispered. His eyes were alight with anticipation. Anoria always felt nervous before a confrontation with Ostreyans, and for good reason. Each confrontation had taken months or years to prepare for. As before, either one of them or both could be killed.

  They left the little restaurant arm in arm. Even though they had been partners and lovers for centuries, Anoria cherished every moment she had spent with Lorian. Now, after so many years, their goal of eradicating the final few Ostreyans neared. After seeking out and destroying nearly four thousand of them, they were so close.

  The cost had been high. Out of their team of forty Recovery Specialists from the planet of Valir, only three remained. Soon, the Ostreyan vermin would cease to exist and their goal would be reached. What then? She held Lorian’s hand and looked at the determination on his face. What would Lorian do? He lived for these confrontations and now they were about over. He had steadfastly refused to talk about their future after they destroyed the Ostreyan menace.

  Anoria let the snow melt on her face as they strolled through the town to their hotel. After
tonight, she would confront him. She couldn’t go on, not having some kind of goal, some kind of purpose to her life.

  They would share the room, now that she had returned. Neither of them talked while they prepared. She didn’t feel like it, but she grinned at Lorian as they both put on the black recovery suits that they had used since their crash landing on Earth. Anoria knew he would like her to show the fearlessness that he, alone, felt.

  “Shouldn’t we dial these white?” Lorian said, his face and hair turning black. She loved his impish expressions.

  Anoria laughed and made a checkerboard out of her face and then turned it back to black. “You’re the one who told me that black was always better at night. There are shadows in every room when the sun goes down.”

  He grabbed her hand. “You really are the smart one,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her. “I promise I will spend some time thinking of what we’ll do after all of this. Perhaps we can go somewhere warm and live out our lives in peace.”

  “It’s been four hundred years since we have really taken time off, Lorian, but I’m more than ready.” She kissed him on his cheek. “Tonight, after our victory. I look forward to planning out our future.” She didn’t just look forward to it; she desperately needed to know what her future held.

  “Close, so close.” Lorian held up his hand and made a fist. “We’ll visit Tubal, after our little rest, and then it’s on to America to destroy the last remnants.”

 

‹ Prev