Greener Green III: Let Light Reign

by Peter Sowatskey

  A parade of emotions crossed her face, and then she said with conviction, "Sure."

  She did the latching for me, and pulled in the pin so no one could open the door from the outside. Walking toward me she said, "A big fellow like you wouldn't mind if I sat on your lap, would you?"

  Smallness didn't describe her, but in comparison I towered over her by head and shoulders.

  She sat astraddle my legs, and we began an hours long conversation, which, at times became a bit one sided depending on who had what in their mouth. Her husband had been gone for three months. I enjoyed thoroughly any port I might be in. Ports are rare in my suspicion-ridden business.

  The storm raged for six days before it started to lessen. The underground cells that stored the electricity captured by the grounding rods were nearing maximum capacity. That fact I gathered at Mama's long supper table, and stored for future reference. The powers ruling this planet were happy with their level of technology. They didn't want anything to do with 'N' space power, and the freedom it brought. They didn't doubt that 'N' space technology worked. They just didn't want their government structure altered. For most of the people the present system worked fine. But when one lived on the high plateaus, where storms were few, a different opinion existed. My planed destination, high plateaus, naturally, where I hoped to peddle my wares.

  The waning storm brought the resumption of the battery powered coach line. With the first mail coach, came news of Mama's husband. He had fallen into a crevice while examining a vein of ore. He'd been rescued, but eventually died from his injuries. But not before finding a buyer for his smelter at a price, which essentially made Mama a wealthy woman. She begged me to stay by her during the week of mourning. I agreed, for a week made little difference to my schedule, or lack of schedule. Berlein could not be consoled for her loss. Not before I gave her the green dress, also. Green being the color of mourning here, signifying the rebirth of the spirit in the spring of the year.

  During a lapse of judgment, brought on by a great moment of passionate sharing I let slip that Vergelauf, on the plateau, awaited me. Not to my surprise, Mama brought an elder sister in to maintain her Inn, and announced to one, and all, that high plains were what she needed to recover. Also perhaps Berlein would gain her stunted growth there. She left on a stage a day before me, saying to me, that stage travel bothered her, and she would be staying for several days at any Stage Inns she came to.

  I left the next day, after making my contribution to the local Electrical Workers Charity. The treasurer wished me well, and asked where I traveled to. I told him I traveled hither and yon at my pleasure, which I'm not sure he believed. But it really didn't matter. Big as I am I couldn't hide if I tried. I could just play the part of the moneyed traveler, and hope the 'Powers' bought my charade.

  The planners of my mission had considered the electrical coaches, with their set pattern of movement, not suitable for me. So, I had my own smaller coach pulled by creatures peculiar to Gorgsden. Full grown, they were usually five meters long, three meters high, and two meters across their backs. Their legs were only a meter fifty long. Their shaggy coats, in season, made them impervious to weather. Shod hooves enabled them to go over the roughest terrain. The fact that they had been bred to enhance their common mindset, aided by implants, made them controllable by voice. One could ride them too, and I had a saddle along. They ate grass, or grain, or any available vegetation. My eight Strodel team had been attuned to my voice. Six pulled the coach, and two were kept in reserve, behind the coach. Several devices of mine enabled me to listen to them talk among themselves.

  I went to the stockyard pasture, and called to them, "Gather to me, we are leaving."

  I heard, "Come, gather, must go now, shapeless one calls, good grass, good grain, belly full, like this one, not worked much."

  This discourse went on endlessly. They called me the shapeless one, because they couldn't focus on me and make out arms and legs as they did with the natives. That resulted from the two years I'd spent gradually shifting to the Magicians time track. To them, I didn't exist in their universe. I didn't exist in the universe I'd grown up in either. However I hadn't transisted beyond human eyes seeing me. Sometime later, light reflection would be a problem, but not yet.

  I opened the gate and they lined on opposite sides of the coaches tongue to have their harness put on. This I did with the aid of an electrical winch which lowered the whole harness set up at once. I just had to snap some snaps and couple them to tongue.

  I entered the coach, pushed the button which swiveled the front seat frontward, while doors opened to give me an unobstructed view forward. Back ward didn't get much attention on this bottom of the line model, not filthy rich, just moneyed, impression.

  I got us carefully through town out to the highway, fine gravel, but wide enough, criminal road gangs saw to that. Half speed moved us along the deserted road, under a bright sunny sky. During storms the sky wouldn't be visible for weeks. Local Technology couldn't understand why the storms happened. Mine did. It understood the planet's huge veined deposits of Hallordian ore drew static electricity from the clouds. That element, number 173, absorbed electricity until it couldn't hold anymore. Then the electricity released caused the storms. There were many factors having to do with density and placement, which governed intensity and duration. The natives could only endure, and charge their batteries.

  Hallordian made intergalactic and extragalactic travel possible. The Hallor accumulators wrapped a vessel in a force field which had no location in time or space. Then un-wrapped it wherever on command, of course, that presupposes, no equipment malfunctions. With five fold redundancy, there weren't many accidents, anymore.

  The road wound over hill and dale, pleasant scenery, scrub bushes and colorful grass. About noon I guided the team onto a spacious pull-off, unlatched and decoupled them from the tongue, and let them go to the provided water trough. I knew, from a map in my head, a local part of the planetary defense existed nearby.

  Three to four hundred revolutions ago this planet had been a source of slaves. Some wandering race became aware of the situation. They helped natives build accumulators and set up immense electrical cannons on high points. The installations, being interconnected, could put out a continuous stream up to one hundred kilometers. The race had collected their reward, one supposes some veins dense in Hallordian ore, and went their way.

  Among slavers, those who survived, the planet became a no-no. An enduring peace had survived to present day, along with a phobia against off worlders.

  From the shadows inside the coach, I surveyed the installation, three kilometers away on yon rise, through binoculars which let me see through walls. Indistinctly to be sure, but no evidence of neglect could be seen. It had a skeleton crew of five, but the natives rallied there when attacked. Oh well, it had been a one in a million chance that an invasion would have been possible anyway.

  I sat a table up from the boot and ate my prepared lunch. Always play nice for the cameras. I intended to lull any intelligence analyzer into concluding my activities were harmless. That way they might overlook any gaps in my record.

  Finishing, I packed my chair and table away, called my 'motors', connected them, and we were off. They called me strange names in their minds, which amused me. I looked lightly at the amount of genetic programming that resulted in animals expressing words in thought and became dizzy. Better whoever than me. I conveyed to them they had only three hours to our destination, the next Coach Inn, and drew praise; odd, odd creatures.

  The contact I'd meet there would fill me in on the personalities I had to sway to another view point. Then, perhaps, before I died of old age, I'd be called home, if I could remember what home consisted of. Gorgsden topped the planetary paranoia scale, which would wear me away.

  My contact, a native, had been recruited during an off world business trip. If compromised, I could only hope my conditioning would last long enough for me to die completely. A big game had big risks and b
ig rewards, mine being, revelation of the last phase of my transition.

  Two and a half hours later, we arrived at the Coach Inn of Fermora, as the sign said, freshly painted sign at that. I could see the village commons, about a kilometer away, where many tents were being erected. Evidently, no surprise, I had arrived in time for a Fair. So smoothly convenient, thanks to providence, because who can count noses among partiers. Of course, woe is me, I would have to join the revelry, and be approachable. I didn't know my contact, no rush. Who says intelligence work doesn't have its small plusses.

  Of course, I had open arrival pre-booking, arranged by my handlers, but no mention of a Fair. Overlooked small details sometimes blossom. And what else had been left out? The further along I went the likelihood of me sticking to the prearranged schedule diminished. Then the Gorgsden authorities would question my deviations from my submitted plans. Oh, blessings on my staff, they should get off their calloused butts and go afield, once.

  I carried my carved and jeweled box up the stairs myself, ostensibly to protect it. There existed a very remote chance that improperly handled; we could be in the middle of a thirty kilometer wide nothing. I thought that more relevant than luggage handler's petty sensibilities.

  The Inns stable hands took the coach off to be searched, I'm sure. My 'motors' would be cared for, and put in a cave if a storm came up unexpected. I registered and a long winded luggage handler who had my other trunks on a dolly, at my mental prodding, provided me with details of the floors layout. I found free flowing offerings raised less suspicion than direct questions.

  The other three suites were occupied by local dignitaries who'd come to bless the Fair goers, opening ceremony tomorrow. They would participate in events during its two week run. I idly tried to guess who my contact could be, anybody, down to the owner of the local dreck hauling company.

  I spread my seventeen medium sized trunks around my four rooms in a pattern which made sense to only me. Showered and freshly attired, I went down to supper. No supper yet, so I went left across the lobby to the gaming room. Eleven card tables, three dice pits, and the universal wheel stood ready for your donations.

  'Might as well add to the purse.' I thought.

  The cashier accepted my thousand Thaller note without displaying emotion, probably asleep, and counted out my tokens. I went to the wheel and bet over-under, with a few bets on one of the numbers, one to fifty. Before supper's announcement I made one hundred and ninety three Thallers. I loudly bemoaned my failing to hit a direct number, the few I placed. Unfairly perhaps, I had taken control of the wheels space. About as fair as the houses remote brake system, which didn’t allow any direct hits. I cashed in and faded into the crowds rush to the dining room where my table sat against a window. I could see the Inn's courtyard, and the Fair grounds off in the distance.

  I'd about finished my vegetarian meal and a cool flageron of local wine, when I noticed an overly dressed lady arguing with the headwaiter. Finally he left his station and approached me.

  He said, "Some mistake has resulted in Madame Quintel's reservations being un-noted. Could you, kind sir, make allowances to your wish for privacy, and allow her, and her hand-maiden to join you for dinner. It would be so kind of you, and of course, the evening would be at no expense to you."

  "It would be a pleasure."

  I stood to await their approach, and noticed the firm stride of someone used to having their way.

  While being seated, she said in an almost sincere voice, "It is so kind to allow us to join you. I'll see that you aren't bothered twice when I speak to the manager tomorrow."

  I watched her breasts and decided they weren't going to leap out of the bodice of the fashionable dinner dress. "This table is so vast an expanse to conquer alone. You and your maiden are most welcome. I'm sure the Fair crowds caused the oversight. I expect the staff is most efficient, usually."

  She exhaled, which didn't diminish anything, "That's true. I can't think of another time when I've been left standing."

  The waiter arrived with a large bottle of wine in a bed of ice, "Compliments of the house, if it pleases you."

  "Ler Zeugen, my favorite. I'm pleased. Pour some for the handsome gentleman also. You name is?"

  I told her, in an unassuming tone. "I'm visiting your interesting planet for the first time. I propose a toast to the planet, the inhabitants, and especially the fair dame who has come to grace my table.

  She looked at the large flageron I had already finished, and accepted my compliment in good spirit. I glanced out of the corner of my eye at the hand maiden who sat face averted, drinking water. 'Best not to be forward.' I thought to include her. 'Who knows what waters flow here?'

  We drank the first bottle of wine before their meal arrived. Its cousin we finished during their meal and my dessert. By then Madame Quintel, Jolene, and I were old friends. Jolene's husband hadn't arrived yet, business. I sensed 'business' had a loaded connotation. Maybe he'd arrive tomorrow, late, in time for the opening ceremony. His job--the Overseer of Roads and Machinery based him in the regional center, some one hundred and fifty kilometers from here. He rarely made it home to enjoy Jolene, his second wife. Being twenty years older he wanted to rest when he did get home. I gathered a picture of a discontented wife who may have had, or wanted to have, other interests.

  It crossed my mind that she could be my contact, having mentioned she'd traveled off planet. Without the password I could but continue the charade of the rich adventurer.

  We finished the third bottle over three courses, four for me, of dessert. Somebody, who knew, decided it might be prudent to retire to our rooms before we fell on our collective faces.

  I gathered myself, with some effort, took Jolene's arm, the maiden on the other side, and we made our dignified, if stiff, way to the elevator and hence to the top floor. The maiden nodded to a set of doors, and when there opened them with a large key. Inside Jolene murmured something about more comfortable clothes, and what room did I have. I told her. She went off to another room, maiden following. I went out the door to my rooms to await her arrival.

  I left the suite door slightly ajar, and turned on a low light in the main bed room. Throwing my clothes aside, I quickly showered to offset the wine somewhat, and then lay in bed to await Jolene.

  Shortly, I heard the outer door shut and the bolt slide. Short of a battering ram, by some large determined men, Jolene's prayers were about to be answered.

  I saw a figure throwing a robe aside, outside the bedroom. A feminine figure rushed into the bedroom and leapt onto the bed, only no Jolene; hand-maiden time. To my surprise, no thin boy like figure arrayed in front of me, ah contraire, a full figured answer to anybodies dream.

  "She's asleep, propped up on pillows. She'll be safe. But that's not what you wanted. Is it?"

  "Just not who I expected."

  "I know that, but I have feelings too, and desires, and you look like a rider, and when a rider is ready it's a shame not to ride."

  Before she half finished speaking, she commenced riding, up and down, with me in her. I felt a wonderful sensation, dimly through the wine, and absently thought, 'This is going to take a lot of riding.'

  As if reading my thoughts, she murmured, "I can go on like this for hours and hours. I've done so before, on bigger poles than yours."

  'She's trying my resolve' I thought, and increased the size of the pole, a magician’s trick, to where she stopped speaking and began to moan.

  After considerable time, through several throes, she dismounted, with no regard to my satisfaction, and said, "We'll continue in a while. When the sun goes down Zanszerilan I cry for the forgotten wayfarer."

  Automatically I answered, "They'll come home soon." Before I realized what I said. She had uttered the pass word, and I had responded. I tried to escape from her stroking hand, but she held on so tight I became fearful that I would damage myself.

  "Relax, you're not going anywhere. Did you think it would be Jolene? Of course you did, and she may
be useful, may also be recruited, but she isn't it."

  I thanked my paranoia that I had flooded the rooms with background music from a special player. Any recorded signals could not be separated, so we were safe. She would have known that, that data assuredly being part of her over layered consciousness pattern.

  "I am it. I, Segdra Vallesn, and I will ride a bit more, and you're going to like it. Maybe I'll let you get off when the sun comes up or maybe not. But listen and gather these facts to yourself."

  With that she leapt aboard again. The pole might have grown larger on its own. Regardless, she complained not at all, and continued talking while stroking. I didn't make any effort to remember what she said. In fact I would be hard pressed to forget anything I ever heard in any state of awareness. Also, when I slept, I could hear--if I ran special routines beforehand.

  Toward first light she did allow me release, or maybe a period of rigor mortis. She appeared momentarily sated, but shortly a light appeared around her and she regained her bounce. I chastised myself that I hadn't noticed someone who had been trained to well up from within. She kept the tell tale glow so well hidden.

  We showered and she went to check on Jolene. When back she said, "She's sleeping peacefully. She has the stamina of a droddel. It's a shame she is used so infrequently. Yes, yes, I know. You'd like to remedy that. Maybe you will, when its time. It's not time now. It's time for the following. You'll make acquaintance with her husband. You're educated as an engineer, fluids, better reclaimed oil, Lubricant Tech betterment is allowed, invent some process. I'll introduce you to a back-up contact when I can without risk. Or someone will contact you if I'm compromised. We're all low level. You have to make the changes. We'll do anything to assist, including removing someone, but it's your show.'

  "Got it. There's mention of a Van der Efvline."

  "That's a poor mountain district. It's a special case. We'll discuss it later. I have to go see to Jolene. Reserve a larger table. Have her husband and her as guests tonight. And get some rest. You're going to need it."