by K R Sanford
Another series of steps, made for walking, led down to the cavern floor. Two rows of white stone columns bordered the cavern wall on one side. On the other side was the florescent river. The columns supported an arched ceiling that stretched for miles into the cavern. It formed the Arches of the Amedans. Alongside the arches, the florescent river glowed bright green. It gave light to The City under the Mountains day and night. The white stone columns rested on a floor of polished flowstone. Its reflection appeared as transparent gold. A white gypsum monolith sprang up from the middle of the golden floor. The monolith formed a white mushroomed urn. There, in the center of the urn rested the Emperor Legion.
The crystalline sphere of the Emperor measured three feet across. Bright red arterial network traversed his surface. The network joined seamless abstracts of black, white and gold. Parallel crystalline rings ran from top to bottom. The bottom ring possessed the heaviest concentration of the crystalline. A pale yellow light pulsated from inside his being. No energy bolts ran the circumference of his sphere or raced around his shell like the Amedan citizen.
He was gathered on the white mushroomed urn with five of the Amedan High Council. They rested in a semi-circle around the Emperor. Their bodies were luminous as Ambassador Gaff. The same bright blue energy bolts and white light specks raced around their core. The Emperor and the five Amedan rulers rested on round gold saucers set within the urn. Together, under the Arches of the Amedans they ruled.
The stalactites in the underground cavern formed a curtain. The curtains formed hundreds of feet above the floor. In the upper arches, tens of thousands of pockets lined the gypsum stone archway. The gypsum pockets barreled over the flowstone floor. Alongside the fluorescent river this served as the home of the Amedan citizens.
The upper walls and ceilings looked like eyes. The Amedans stared out of their cells watching and hearing all that took place. There, the Amedan rulers carried on their endless discussions non-stop, day and night. Everything the Emperor did and said on the floor below became known by all the Amedans above.
Along the floor in the wall of the cavern next to the white stone columns, Iron cages stood. The iron cages were in three sections. They divided two archways giving entrance to passageways of more barred cages. The cages went on for as far as the eye can see. The cages were all empty, cleaned of debris. The first set of cages near the Emperor’s court contained the remains of creatures. They persisted beyond the warnings of the Amedans. The fate of the four winged creatures had met their end. The creatures were dead, stuffed trophies of the Emperor Legion.
Shanna and Marco walked onto the white flowstone road followed by Chief Spierd. Marco signaled the Eagle II. The cord of C-sharp chirped switching the shuttle to hibernation mode. There they waited at the opening of a great cavern.
The cavern opened to the Emperor’s transparent gold floor. Two legged beings came and went. They walked on the floor of the Emperor’s court. The same walked up and down the rock steps along the cavern walls, coming in and going out of the recesses in the cliffs.
One of the two-legged creatures appeared from a recess next to the stone platform. This is the place where Marco landed the shuttle. He dressed in fine blue linen with long flowing black hair. He strut across the golden floor and walked up to the Emperor’s urn. His head was egg shaped and his jaw narrow. His nose was as a human. His skin was shiny bronze. His build was powerful and athletic. His hands were large and his fingers long. His feet were bare, webbed and clawed. He moved the gold staff on his belt to the side of his hip then knelt on one knee before the Emperor. He spoke in a soft rumbling voice.
“It is I, Emperor, your servant Grantham,” he said.
“Ah. . . Governor Grantham,” replied the guttural voice of the Emperor Legion. “From where have you come today, my brother?”
“I have come from walking back and forth on Emerald Sea and through the mountains, Great Emperor.”
“Rise dear one, and tell me: how does it go with the new star fleet?” asked the Emperor.
“General Hodges is selling protection to King Devin.”
“Oh yes, I know, and what do you suggest, my dear?” asked the Emperor.
“Let us begin, now that Marco has arrived.” Grantham turned and signaled to Marco and his party.
Marco, Shanna and Chief Spierd stepped across the golden floor. They stood next to Governor Grantham. Grantham towered head and shoulders over Marco and the Chief. Then, in a welcoming reply he said, “Emperor, Shanna is here. Chief Spierd you know.”
“John, welcome, thank you for coming,” said the Emperor. “Shanna, my dear, you are radiant as ever. You have another birthday coming. When will you be twenty-one?”
“Next month, Legion; the fifteenth of June, like your birthday,” she replied with a smile and a bow.”
“Delightful creature: she’s right you know. We have the same birthday. We will celebrate next month and make it a big day. I would like you to invite Faragorn.”
“I can do that,” she said smiling.
“Marvelous,” said Legion. “I will send out the word. Now, Marco. What does General Hodges have against you that he would violate Amedan territory?”
“He tests our strength, Sir. He will want to exchange personnel in good faith.”
“You will bring him here and show him what we do with extortionists. You will show him the four false leaders in the cages.”
“And, if he won’t meet with you?”
“Then, if it comes to that, he will get escorted to the neutral zone one hundred light years from the Corsi Star System. It’s time to let the Amedans weigh in here.”
Hearing all that took place between Marco and Emperor Legion, the Amedan high council sent out leaders from the matrix. The matrix began a barrage of elongated bolts circling around the honeycomb hive. Nuances of celestial intelligence, facts and figures color coded the spiraling matrix. They brought harmonic sounds to the cavern floor. The matrix sent eerie tones and flashes of rainbows. The rainbows rolled like ribbons trailing from one end of the barreled ceiling to the other. The rhythmic network sang an Amedan melody of rhapsodic equations. Distillated theories drummed out consequences. Potential scenarios sang calculated plans against the attacking civilization. The colony of rulers spiked waves of crackling data from one Amedan citizen to another. The shared messages sent core body date to each cell. It left no doubt of the threat from the rogue invaders. The emotions of the event surged with a crescendo of nano frequencies. The synthesized interwoven songs played through the super-sensory matrix. The intelligence encrypted messages drove deep into the honeycomb hive. Pure energy sent hundreds of crystalline bodies vaulting into the rainbow matrix. The Amedans weaved in and out and over and around themselves. They formed a multi-structured data hive. The hive moved in figure eights and elliptical orbits at lightning speed. Then, as if called to give an account, the Amedans ebbed back over the Emperor and the High Council. They began the sound of ten thousand metallic wings rushing together. The experience exploded in a furry of absolute power.
As the court below filled with spectators, the Amedans hushed their overhead display. They retreated back into their hive in a silent calm of whispers. They retreated still more, restoring the golden glow to the Emperor’s court below.
Lao was the first to speak. He was among the Amedan high rulers on the white urn with the Emperor. “Brash conduct demands an equal response,” he said.
“If your interpretation is to surround their ships, then let us expect to pay twice,” retorted Marco.
“The consensus is they will pay twice,” said Lao.
“How so, Lao?” asked Marco.
“These humans will serve Ameda by leaving their ships to the Marillians. And, they will live to build our cities under the mountains. This is more than what they would offer us.”
“Sounds like serfdom,” replied Marco.
“Semantics, dear Marco,” retorted Lao. “Their intentions are temporal and thereby blind only to themselves.
And now, their presence and movements display a posture of invasive intent. This display is a violation of our territorial space and a provocation of war. This group has become a liability to this star system and will not get permission to leave. This is not a people with an infinite perspective. These are a people who need to get dragged kicking and screaming to advance their race. These are a people who are genetically inferior to their ancestors.”
“Now just a minute,” retorted Marco.
“What.” Lao’s energy bolts raced around his shell turning fiery red. His core likewise ignited. He sent heat to the surrounding white urn and the Emperor’s golden Court.
Marco and the others took several steps back. They held their hands in front of their faces.
The Marillians gathered in groups to talk amongst themselves. They watch the extra ordinary events unfold under The Arches of the Amedans.
“Fear not, Marco,” announced the Emperor. “Step forward, I want to make a suggestion. Attend King Devin’s celebrations tomorrow. The Amedans will take charge against General Hodges. Lao is right; any unannounced breach of territorial space is an act of war. Keep your wits about you. Take the Governor with you. He will help you with the Marillians. Ambassador Gaff and High Council Lao are now under your authority. Go and prepare for our word at the Grand Ball before the first dance.
Thank you Shanna, Chief. I apologize for not spending more time with you. Right now, time is of the essence. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
The salutations at The City under the Mountains were short lived. Marco wasted no time stepping from the golden floor of the Emperor’s court and onto the stone landing pad. He powered up the shuttle and made ready for lift-off. Grantham was the last to secure his seat. High Counselor Lao held himself in place in the same manner as Ambassador Gaff.
The sleek shuttle streaked across the dry sea beds. They reached the coast line of the Shrine Mountains. In less than a minute they were high above the mountains. They could see the setting sun shimmer on the waters of Shrine Lake.
Marco set the Eagle II down in the court yard next to Colonel Stiller’s shuttle. They sat at the Lodge of Tildanfin. Above the door were a coat-of-arms displaying two crossed swords. The swords pointed upward with a standing lion and a winged horse on either side. Underneath the coat-of-arms was a plaque that read in the ancient Vallian, “Forever Vigilant.”
Arnockel, the mason stepped out of the front door followed by Chertog the miner, Master of the Tunnel. Chertog wore a grin that stretched from ear to ear. He was holding a stein of ale and appeared tipsy. “Look who’s here,” he said. “And there’s Lao, the mad Amedan. I would recognize those red bolts anywhere.”
“Funny, funny; Chertog is full of grog. Did a brick land on your head today, Chertog?” huffed Lao.
“Did you two leave any of that ale for the rest of us?” asked the Chief.
“Grantham, your favorite is on the table,” said Arnockel.
“What’s that?” replied Grantham.
“Meatloaf, asparagus with cheese in a burgundy wine sauce,” said Arnockel.
“Did Saralil make those hot dinner rolls?”
“Yes, she did,” he replied. “You better get in there before they’re all gone.”
“Wow,” proclaimed Chertog. “That big Gork can move when he wants to. Did you see that?”
“We saw,” said Shanna. “And you better be careful he can hear you.”
“I don’t care,” said Chertog, slurring his words. “He can hear me if he wants to.”
“That’s the spirit, Cherty. Don’t take any horse piddle from anybody,” chimed Arnockel.
“The whole village can hear you two,” said Marco. “Let’s take it inside now, fellas. We’ve learned some things you’ll want to hear.”
Arnockel and Chertog gave each other a look that said they were in the right place as they knew they were. Without a word they followed Marco back into the Great Hall.
“What’s wrong with calling the Governor a Gork?” said Chertog.
“Well,” replied Arnockel. “Some of the Marillians think it’s raciest.”
“It’s funny. How can it be raciest?” said Chertog.
“That’s their point. It’s funny at their expense,” replied Arnockel.
“Well, that’s touchy. Those people are imagining things,” said Chertog.
“Really?” said Arnockel. “Let’s squeeze the shoe on your foot and see how it feels then ah.”
“Okay, I’m listening,” he replied skeptical.
Arnockel, suspicious of Chertog’s steady demeanor continued. “You hear someone laugh, okay, then someone shouts something. Then someone shouts again, only this time, a little too loud: Hey flat face, they say, ha, ha, ha; and then they laugh again. Would you like that?”
“No,” replied Chertog. “I would feel uneasy, if I didn’t know them. I’m not completely drunk you know. The reason I chide others is because I like to see what’s going on at the edge.”
“So, you’re saying there is method in your madness?” said Arnockel.
“No, I wouldn’t take it that far,” replied Chertog.
“So, what are you saying?” asked Arnockel.
“I’m not saying anything,” said Chertog. “But, I am wondering why you’re being so demanding. If you got a beef, Arnockel, why don’t you go write a book. Because I see it is real simple. If you have a mean spirited, what you say will be racist.”
“Well holy crap,” replied Arnockel. “I had a feeling you were going to stick it to me somehow.”
The temperature in the Great Hall was brooding hot and about to get hotter. Arnockel and Chertog knew better and fell silent. The expression on the faces of the men in the Great Hall said something was wrong. It was in their body language. The tension was alarming and they were about to snap.
“Can we get on their ship without their notice?” said a voice.
“The question is, can we get on our own ship without their notice,” replied Hector.
“Not likely,” said Commander Majors. “And we don’t need to. We just need to track the flagship.”
“Alright, we take this fight out into deep space. We cut ourselves off from reinforcement. Then, we get outflanked by the other half of their fleet,” said Colonel Stiller.
“He could draw us into deep space and instead of outflanking us they surround Ameda. Then, they can hold the planet for hostage,” said Chief Spierd.
“What makes anyone think General Hodges and his fleet can leave Corsican’s Territory?” said Counselor Lao. “No, that fleet will not reach deep space. Further, I say; these ships will not leave orbit.”
“We are back to rescuing the hostages before they get injured or killed,” said Marco.
“Since there are ten hostages, I may have an idea,” said Lao. “I will lead a mission to free the hostages. Marco, I will need your help along with Gaff, Grantham and Colonel Stiller. He trusts you Colonel but you are going to disappoint him. We will divide into two groups. The ones I have mentioned will gather here with me. The others will plan for the King’s celebrations as normal.”
“Just like that,” said Hector. “When Hodges gets free of our territorial space, and he will, he will kill the hostages.”
“What does he want?” said a voice.
“He wants to run riot throughout the Universe,” said Marco. “He also wants to live. I understand he made a deal with someone here for one of the starships orbiting Ameda. I don’t know the details. Vito here can help us understand why. Why does a military General of the Intersteller Forces want to give a starship to a civilian?”
“I would be happy to explain,” said Vito.
“Stand up, Vito,” said Chertog, “I can’t hear a thing back here.”
“Of course,” said Vito while pulling himself to his feet. His iridescent suit flashed with a rainbow of colors from the fireplace. He straightened his coat and continued. “Is this better? Can you all hear me alright?”
Chertog raised his ha
nd and said, “You’re good here, Vito.”
“Fine, fine,” he replied. “It's not a glamorous account. This business with General Hodges, involves a winner and a loser. The General was down by several billion credits. I make no judgments about how a player plays his game, but that’s a lot of credits for anyone’s standards. Security informed me of his last bet, half of which was house money. So, I went over to observe.”
The Warriors in the Great Hall agreed. Watching the game play-out was the right thing to do under the circumstances.
“On this roll, he put his marker down on black. Just black, no hedging, no side bets, nothing in the field. It was all or nothing. This was a bit funny, funny weird I mean. Because if he lost, he could walk straight out to his shuttle, go to his starship and forget about us here. The roll hit red and the crowd sighed. You don’t have to see the roll when you hear that sound. You can feel all at once the disappointment. Something happens with players in a crowd. They can act like a single entity. They can sense the impact of the bet. A bet like that can have far reaching consequences. An unintended story gets told through crowd unity. It’s a collective organizational phenomenon. And, it's scalable from the micro to the macro.”
Someone cleared their throat.
Vito looked around. He could see not all were following his point. “Oh, my apologies,” he said.
“Unfortunately, we were not able to settle the debt at that time. I told him he could come around later in the evening and we would work something out. That way he could continue playing. With a small line of credit from me, he could also enjoy entertaining his guests.
We were able to settle part of the debt the next morning, only that left a large balance unpaid. He agreed he would make things right at his first opportunity. This is his first opportunity. He said the ten onboard are not hostages. They have agreed to stay onboard as assurance. He would not leave orbit until the transfer of all personnel was complete.”