“That’s bogus,” Tony said.
The others looked to Cuddy, who noted in all their glances that they would probably follow his lead. Even Brian. “I’ll instruct Bob to pilot the Evermore back to Primara and deliver them the wellness chamber. Those here who wish to return to Primara with the orb, that’s fine.”
“Nah…I’m with you, kemosabe,” Tony said, and Brian, rolling his eyes, said, “Fine. I’ll come along,” just as Kyle said, “Me too.”
Jackie smiled. “Well, there’s no way I’m letting Haffan go off with this guy without me. So, I guess we’re all going…together.”
Chapter 20
Moving up the gangway, Cuddy, holding onto Haffan’s hand, entered what he surmised was some kind of airlock compartment, something the Evermore didn’t have.
The others were already onboard—somewhere. It had taken close to thirty minutes for the team to assemble whatever belongings they deemed essential from the Evermore and transfer them over to the Marauder ship. Continuing into the main lower deck, Cuddy was surprised to see a flurry of activity ahead. For some oddball reason, he’d assumed Lorgue Supreme Eminence Calph was traveling alone on the big warship. Just him and the odd robot—but now, in retrospect, he knew that to be improbable. Piloting the Evermore, less than one quarter of its size, would have been no easy feat for Cuddy. A spaceship this large and complex would require a sizable crew.
Cuddy heard a power saw in use—also hammering and clanging—sounds of new construction going on. Over the racket, Haffan yelled, “What are they doing in here? It’s so loud!”
A partially constructed bulkhead, taking shape ahead, had a slew of various types of cabling hanging down like bundles of spaghetti. Cuddy spotted Calph across the wide expanse of the lower deck, assisting two Howsh with a large piece of equipment. Still partially wrapped in its protective shipping material, they were jockeying it into position. Surprised and angered by what he saw, Cuddy strode up to the Howsh Lorgue Supreme Eminence.
“What have you done? This wellness chamber is needed by the Pashier. Lives depend on it reaching Primara within the next few days!” And then, in an instant, Cuddy realized that particular piece of equipment was somewhat different from the one strapped down within the sub-deck hold of the Evermore. Most definitely a wellness chamber, although somewhat larger than the one they’d found.
“Sorry…I just assumed…” Cuddy’s voice faltered.
But Calph’s attention was still focused on getting the chamber positioned into the exact right place. “Push…scoot it up against the bulkhead.” The two Howsh did as instructed and the big chamber slid into position. “Get the cabling harness configured and test it, then retest it before closing up that access panel.”
Both subordinates, giving him a half bow in response, said nothing. For the first time, Calph looked over and acknowledged Cuddy, then stared down at Haffan. Cuddy tried to read the Eminence’s expression. Was it concern? No…more like reverence.
As the Howsh knelt down to her level, Haffan screwed up her face and said, “You reek like a dead animal,” and placed a palm over her mouth and nose.
Calph’s grin was somewhat unsettling—almost as if the Howsh’s physicality was not configured for that kind of facial expression. “After today, there will be operational washing rooms in place. And I promise you, Haffan, I will be the first one to take advantage of them.” Glancing up at Cuddy, he said, “I told you this was a prototype ship. As you can see, we’re in the process of building necessary accouterments in it now. Come…I will show you to your cabins.”
Cabins? Cuddy thought. There were none onboard the Evermore, only communal sleeping berths.
They followed Calph through more construction zones. So far, Cuddy counted five crewmembers besides Calph. Stepping onto an open platform, he waved Cuddy and Haffan to join him. The platform began to move—ascending upward. Cuddy briefly caught a glimpse of two other deck levels in the same disarray, construction-wise, at the lower level. He thought he spotted the robot, Spilor—a ghostly figure—only a blur of movement lurking within the construction area. He felt unsure about what he’d seen.
The lift slowed and came to a stop on level four. Cuddy wondered, how many more levels exist above this one, if any?
Following closely behind Calph, as he moved quickly along a softly lit passageway, no signs of construction work was evident here. Calph stopped and gestured to the end of the passageway—an oblong cul-de-sac, of sorts. “We completed our alterations on this section of the ship first…in anticipation of your arrival.”
Eight hatchways currently stood wide open. Jackie appeared from one, off to their right. “Hey, I have you both situated on either side of my quarters. This definitely is a step up from the Evermore! Nice having my own head here.”
“I will leave you to get situated. You can come find me later…on the lower deck…” With that, Calph headed off. Jackie waited a few beats before remarking, “In anticipation of your arrival? So he really did know that we’d all be coming along…even before we’d agreed to do so.”
“Yeah. I don’t know…I found that a strange thing for him to say too.” Cuddy shrugged.
“Are we going to live here now?” Haffan asked.
Jackie held out a hand. “Come on, let’s go find where everyone will be bunking.”
Haffan didn’t hesitate, quickly exchanging Cuddy’s hand for Jackie’s. Cuddy followed them through the hatchway—into a compact, nicely laid-out quarters that held a bed, a small desk, and a small vertical closet. An adjoining hatchway led to a head.
“Your quarters and mine, Cuddy, are pretty much identical to this one,” Jackie said. “There’s even a shower, which I’m looking forward to using as soon as possible.”
Cuddy, gazing out a circular porthole window, could just make out the Evermore in the distance. All cabins faced forward—situated along the ship’s bow.
“I’ll be staying in here all alone?” Haffan asked, her forehead creased with concern.
“No worries; we’re right next door…on either side of you,” Cuddy said.
Whereas everyone had brought along several satchels each—filled with clothes and an odd accumulation of stuff—it occurred to Cuddy the child had brought nothing with her. She didn’t wear clothes and, being homeless, had nothing now to unpack, which only underscored the alien child’s state of vulnerability.
The three turned toward the entrance hatch, hearing raised voices. Kyle, Tony, and Brian were in the corridor, in the midst of a loud argument.
“What’s wrong…what’s all the commotion about?” Cuddy asked.
Kyle and Tony glared at Brian, who responded, “Hey, Cuddy’s no longer the captain. We’re on a whole other ship so I take orders from only one person now…me!” Brian stared at the others defiantly.
Kyle said, “He stole something…when down on the first level.”
“What did you take?” Cuddy asked. “We’ve been here less than ten minutes and you’re already causing a problem?”
“Hey…I’m watching out for us. We don’t know anything about these aliens. What their true motives are for us.”
“What did you take?” Cuddy asked again.
Finally, Brian lifted his shirt—just high enough to expose some item tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
“Is that…”
“A weapon,” Jackie blurted before Brian could answer. “Where did you get that?”
“It was just lying there…next to a bunch of tools on the deck. I’m keeping it.”
“Do you even know how to use it?” Kyle asked.
“No clue, but I’ll figure it out. I’m smart that way.”
“You gonna let him get away with that?” Jackie asked Cuddy.
“Brian’s right, I’m not captain of this ship. He wants to start stealing from these guys…he can face the repercussions when they come.” To be truthful, Cuddy wasn’t completely sure what Brian stole was a terrible idea. Though he probably shouldn’t have, knowing they had
some kind of protection on hand might not be such a bad thing.
“Where are you going?” Jackie said to Cuddy.
“To talk with Calph. Bob just informed me the Evermore is ready to head out. I want to get a better idea what will be happening to us before our sole, only alternative means of transportation leaves the planet.”
Chapter 21
Cuddy retraced his steps and headed back down the corridor, then stepped onto the lift platform. It took him a moment to decipher the controls, before sending the contraption downward.
The AI orb, back on the Evermore, telepathically spoke to him. Shall I return once the wellness chamber is successfully delivered to Primara?
Cuddy, thinking he detected concern in the AI-orb’s question, quickly discounted it. An AI-orb, no matter how intelligent, was incapable of having feelings.
No…wait there for further instructions. I know we are heading to Darriall, but after that…I have no idea.
Understood. Is there a message for Tow, Captain Perkins?
Cuddy wanted to say yes, of course, he had a message for Tow, but what could he possibly say in a succinct, perfectly wrapped-up, short sentence, or two? Especially since he didn’t know why he was there—about to place the lives of his fellow crew in jeopardy, and the alien child as well. Even, perhaps, an entire race of people he’d come to care so much about.
Just tell Tow we’re doing all we can to save Primara. We’re heading into uncharted waters…he’ll understand the reference.
The lift settled onto level 1—back to construction racket noise and the robot Calph called Spilor.
Goodbye. Have a safe voyage home, Cuddy conveyed telepathically to Bob. He thought he heard the sound of the Evermore’s lift thrusters engaging outside, underneath the construction noise.
The robot approached him in its knee-jerky-stepping stride. Its projected-on face, like a mask conveniently worn, looked both serious and beyond creepy. Cuddy wondered if Calph too shared a similar perception of the robot, or if he’d simply, over time, become too used to its strange appearance.
“I’m looking for the Eminence Calph.”
“Then you have come to the wrong level,” Spilor replied flatly.
“What level can I find him on?”
“Come, I will direct you to him,” the robot said, stepping onto the lift alongside Cuddy, and setting the controls for Level 3. As they rose, subtle flashes of light caught Cuddy’s attention. Glancing to his right, he noticed Spilor cycling through a variety of facial expressions—as if unsure what the appropriate emotional response should be in any given moment. The robot finally settled on the serious—almost angry-looking—mask projection it had worn mere moments before. Weird.
The lift slowed and came to a halt. Spilor stepped off and headed directly forward. Cuddy following, took in the new surroundings. Like Level 1, construction was taking place and more Howsh crewmembers were hard at work. Cuddy caught their sideways glances turn in his direction as he walked past.
“What exactly is being built on this level?” Cuddy asked to the back of the robot’s head and narrow shoulders.
“Back over there are the officers’ quarters…and right there is the officer’s lounge.”
“What’s that?” Cuddy asked, gesturing with his chin, before realizing the robot would have no idea what he was referring to. Surprised, Cuddy heard Spilor reply, “That is the Tacticians Espy Table…or simply the Espy.”
As they approached the large table-like affair, Cuddy better assessed the thing. Rectangular in shape, it seemed higher, about twice the size of a standard pool table. Something crewmembers would stand around, he figured. Spilor, perhaps sensing his interest, reached out a spider-like arm appendage. Touching the edge of the table, it powered up and came alive. Cuddy leaned over the surface, watching it take shape, and realized it was far more than just the average 3D display. Reaching down, he touched a miniature building and actually experienced full-tactile realism. Then, on waving his hand over what remained of two tiny, smoldering scout ships, he felt the sensation of heat rising up to touch his fingers. Very cool, he thought. Spilor moved a finger-like digit along the table edge and more of the surroundings lying outside Tripette City came into view. “Incredible realism and detail.”
“We steal only the best.”
Cuddy, turning to see where the voice came from, watched as Calph approached from the direction of the bow. His robes rustled as he moved, and his tall staff was grasped securely in his right fist. “Come…let me show you the rest of the Farlight’s bridge.”
“Farlight?”
“Roughly translated…so what do you think of the moniker I chose for her?”
“Works for me,” Cuddy said.
“Leave us,” Calph snapped, directing an unrelenting gaze toward the robot.
No wonder his mechanical cohort has such a lousy disposition, Cuddy thought, not sad to see the robot move away.
Turning, Calph raised his staff, using it to point out various things of interest around them. Cuddy noted there were no seats anywhere—no place to sit down.
“Like with the Epsy, the crew is expected to stand when on the Farlight’s bridge.”
Much of the horseshoe-shaped space was further along in construction than the rest of the ship. A curved observation window dominated the front of the compartment. On both sides were separate bridge stations—four to a side—though Cuddy doubted they were typically manned at the same time. One thing was sure: everything possessed the very latest technology. “How much of this is Howsh tech?” Cuddy asked.
“None of it. Ripped out nearly all the Howsh prototype bridge components in existence when we acquired the vessel. Some is Pashier, some is Gulk, some is Womak. Now, over there…forward and to the starboard side…we have the Communications Station. Next, we have the Tactical and Weaponry Station, and across…over there on the portside bulkhead—is the Engineering Station. Forward is the Navigation Station. I will explain the other stations at a more appropriate time.”
Cuddy didn’t think a more appropriate time would ever be necessary. He wasn’t along to crew for the Howsh officer. Calph then moved to the center of the bridge. A semi-circular red railing sectioned-off the area where a bridge commander, or captain, usually stood, when directing his bridge crew personnel. Turning around, the Espy table was right there—easily viewable by both a commanding officer and his junior officers. To Cuddy, it seemed a smart, well-thought-out, layout. A far cry from the tight little bridge on the Evermore, though it was a bridge he already missed.
Cuddy found the old Howsh commander staring at him. “What is it you wish to speak to me about, Cuddy Perkins?”
“You mentioned the fate of the Pashier was not set in stone, but isn’t it? You knew exactly where to find the Pashier child, Haffan. Where to find the Evermore, and the rest of us, here in Tripette City.”
Calph nodded, gesturing with his staff to their surroundings. “Don’t confuse advanced navigation and tracking technology with what the ancient writings provide. After ten years, one becomes somewhat proficient at deciphering the meanings of things. The clues are there, if one knows how, where, to look for them. But I have gone as far as I can, and that is why you are here. More important, that is why the child is here.”
“So I want to see these ancient writings…these tablets…for myself,” Cuddy said. “See how you determined so much from something…so…completely detached from our present reality. How can 8000-year-old writings provide that kind of detail?”
“Perfectly understandable questioning. You still do not know if you can trust me; if our priorities are in alignment. You are having second thoughts.”
Cuddy shrugged. “If what you told us is true, that the fate of an entire people…their world, yours too…hangs in the balance of the ongoing quest you are on, that we are all on…”
Calph cut in. “Then it is time now we leave this ruined world. Time we venture to the vaults of Calirah—onto the nearby planet of Darriall. There you will s
ee, for yourself, why young Haffan is the key to understanding the Prophecy of Harkstrong.”
Chapter 22
Vordiff was certainly in a class by itself, meant to exemplify Howsh superiority. To whom, though, Norsh didn’t know. He stood among other oglers on the floor level, staring up at the ongoing proceedings waiting for them to finish up. The newly constructed Howsh Vordiff Council Hall loomed both high and somewhat daunting before them. Against a distant backdrop—one as black as obsidian and meant to represent deep space—the entire hall appeared to hover like a great, cleaved-in-half world, totally unique unto itself. Norsh took in the rotunda’s exposed, curved, inner architecture—admiring the unique mathematical simplicity of design and engineering finesse. Tiered layers of individual, semi-circular, alcove seating areas—hundreds of them—were hierarchical; specifically assigned to council members by rank.
Facing toward a central dais, no fewer than a thousand Howsh listened to some council member windbag pontificate on the importance of propagating Howsh decency and morality across the galaxy. An endless diatribe Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh had heard many times before.
Norsh had been summoned to attend unexpectedly, by Council Member Leshand. Leshand too was an Elder, though not many council members were similarly entitled. Elders held the real power; positions inherited—mostly passed down—from fathers and from grandfathers who were Elders. One did not decline a summoning, not if he cared to maintain his standing among the fleet, so Norsh traveled thirty-eight light years to attend the newly constructed Howsh center of government—Vordiff and Vordiff Hall—where he now stood. Norsh pondered what Leshand wanted from him—some special favor. For all the power the Howsh dignitaries carried, they were not above feeling nervous of late. Only a few Howsh in attendance were still unaware of the ancient, secret scriptures found in buried caverns on Darriall; scriptures chronicling how the Howsh long ago were conquered. Conquered, then enslaved, by the savage Pashier. Still humiliated by that prospect, their rage turned to bitter hatred, which only intensified over the years. The Pashier were demonized. Their recycling of life, via their heritage pods, and their extra- ordinary mental powers were proof enough of their hellish influence. But the scriptures, mostly inscribed on rock tablets, told of Pashier and Howsh both capable of using esoteric powers during various eras throughout their entangled histories. That kind of information could never be shared with the Howsh masses. Even discussing the secret Darriall scriptures could quickly lead to an expedient execution.
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