The problem was there were hidden dissenters among the attending council members—a handful of Elders ready for change. Ready to bury the proverbial hatchet and unite with the abhorred Pashier. Council Member Leshand, Norsh suspected, was one such individual.
Meeting adjourned, it took close to an hour for the hall to empty out. Norsh took in the recently vacated Vordiff Hall, marveling how beautiful it was without countless furry dignitaries clamoring around within its fine walls.
“Ah…there you are, Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh.”
“Sire,” Norsh greeted back, not hearing the dignitary Elder come up behind him. Like all Elders, he wore a draping of scarlet ivy leaves—angled across one shoulder, then positioned on the opposite hip. The Howsh Elder looked ancient to Norsh. His long matted body fur, that long ago had turned silver, was almost pure white in color. Norsh briefly wondered how the old coot ever managed to climb the hundreds of stairs, leading up to the hall rotunda where his seating alcove was located.
“Thank you for coming. Walk with me, will you, Eminence Norsh?”
“Of course, sire.” Noting that the Elder was quite stooped and walking very slowly, Norsh offered him an extended elbow for support, which Leshand accepted. Feeling a surprisingly strong grip on his arm, Norsh was reminded how much he detested the old, misleadingly innocuous, council member. That it was he, plus several others, who had continuously blocked his orders—orders allowing him to destroy Primara once and for all; and bring the Pashier one step closer to complete eradication.
Norsh was selected to command a new fleet of Marauder spacecraft, the most advanced warships in the quadrant. A high-visibility position, it would ratchet him up from Lorgue Prime Eminence to the highest rank—Lorgue Supreme Eminence. Not since Lorgue Supreme Eminence Calph, had anyone attained to that lofty position—nor wielded as much power. But now the title was well within reach. This powerful council member could make that decision possible for him. Norsh tuned back into what Leshand was saying.
“…perhaps, with the exception of the Womak, the Gulk are an interesting adversary, with surprising military capabilities. An enemy of highly strategic importance whom you must contend with…immediately.”
“Yes, sire. But the Gulk are on the far side of the quadrant; eighty-seven light years away, to be exact. First, with your permission, I would like to complete my current mission…the full destruction of Primara, and the eradication of any more hidden heritage pods.”
“That topic is not open for discussion, Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh. The council members have already made the appropriate determination.”
Norsh doubted the Gulk were any more a threat today than they were ten years ago when that race of green humanoid vermin were first discovered, lurking around the far side of the sector. Now, with war imminent, the issue of Pashier extermination had conveniently been put on hold.
“It comes down to limited resources. Examine who would do us the most immediate harm. The Pashier have no weapons; no intention to expand beyond their world, while the Gulk…a known militaristic aggressor…are seeking further spatial conquests. The Pashier can wait.”
Norsh expected nothing less from Leshand, who seemed oblivious to what the real threats were within the galaxy. Still, he was his superior and Norsh could only push things so far. “Sire…I am at your command. Once I intersect with the fleet, in three days’ time, we will make haste to deal with the Gulk. Although I don’t fully agree with the decision, of course I will follow both your, and the council’s, directive in that regard.”
“That is good. I would like to promote you, Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh. It is long overdue. You have proven your loyalty. Not forgetting also your relentless hatred of the Pashier, which many of the council members find appealing.”
Yes, but not you, Norsh thought.
“As you know…I have substantial influence over my colleagues.”
“Yes, sire. You are highly-regarded among your peers.”
“One other thing you need to be informed about…concerns your brother.”
“My brother?” Norsh repeated. He only had one brother. Two years his junior, Lorgue Sub Eminence Langer, like himself, was on the fast track within the fleet. To say the two were highly competitive, both having fleet advancement ambitions, would be a gross understatement. But Norsh did have a measure of affection for his brother—as long as he did not interfere with his own aspirations.
“He has been informed of his position in an upcoming, highly important, mission. He will report directly to you. He will be commanding a small crew onboard the Dubon, a fine smaller ship. Keep me well informed regarding his progress. Make contact with him immediately; have him set a course for Darriall. Once there, his mission is to enter the vaults of Calirah.”
Norsh hesitated. “Yes, sire. And…what is he assigned to do there?”
“Await the arrival of the young Pashier sprout…the chosen one.”
Norsh, acquainted enough with the secret scriptures, nearly rolled his eyes. He was well aware of the mythical young being the Elder referred to, although he personally regarded that inscription as nothing more than fable. Only scratchings on stone tablets, thousands of years old. It became clear suddenly that Leshand had lost his wits…lost his fucking mind. In spite of what he was hearing, Norsh tried to keep his expression neutral. “Sire, you are…certain…that this sprout, this Pashier child, will…”
“Do not patronize me with that tone of voice, Norsh. I know exactly how crazy this sounds. But with that said, there is much you still do not know. Too many ancient writings, prophesies, are exhibiting…certain truths…here in our present time.”
“Are you certain my brother is best suited for this—”
Cutting Norsh off, Council Member Leshand said, “Apparently, Lorgue Sub Eminence Langer has something no one else possesses.”
“And what is that, sire?”
“A clandestine connection, like non-other. Young Lorgue Sub Eminence Langer has assured the council that this illusory contact of his will bring the chosen one to us…like those ancient writings foretold.”
“Who is this—?”
“Your brother refuses to divulge that information. But if there is even a small chance his assessment is true…we cannot ignore it.”
Norsh was instantly relieved he hadn’t been assigned to lead this ridiculous mission. All of a sudden, his mission to fight the Gulk no longer sounded quite so terrible. Still, he wondered what his brother was up to. He would have to press Langer for answers when he spoke to him next.
“What is it you would like him to do…when he finds her?”
“Convince the young sprout to locate, then open the vault, containing the ancient writings…those which refer to the Prophesy of Harkstrong. We must gain possession of this heralded prophecy. And then, upon completion, he is to eliminate anyone who is with her and bring her to me. Then he is to kill his crew…all those who would speak of the mission, the sprout, and the existence of the ancient scrolls.”
Chapter 23
Heading back up to Level 4, Cuddy contemplated two questions, then three. First, how was it that a Howsh, like Calph, possessed telepathic powers? Second, did he also have telekinetic powers—the psychic ability to mentally move some physical mass? And third, how did he come by those capabilities—was it similar to what happened to Brian and him? The automatic result of time spent within a wellness chamber?
The answers would have to wait. In the meantime, he needed to take extra care to protect Haffan, since she was the one the alien Calph was most interested in. Although Cuddy didn’t think he meant her any harm, he wasn’t confident enough to take any undue risks.
Where did you go?
Cuddy was halfway along the corridor when he mentally heard Haffan speak to him. Standing in front of her open cabin door, arms tightly crossed over her chest, she looked small—a petulant child impatiently waiting to confront him.
Cuddy hadn’t come right back up after meeting with Calph. Instead, he
’d taken the lift—first down to Level 2, then to Level 1, wandering throughout their construction areas for several hours. He’d peered inside many compartments, examining various, newly installed equipment that he assumed was pilfered from some other ship, or even some other world.
Approaching Haffan, speaking aloud, he said, “Well…I talked to Lorgue Supreme Eminence Calph for a while. He showed me the bridge. Where they steer the ship from.”
“I know what a ship’s bridge is, stupid human,” she retorted angrily.
“After that, I took a walk…checked out the rest of the ship.”
“Didn’t you think that I’d like to see the rest of the ship too?” she asked, indignation in her voice
“Okay…we can go for a walk later on. Maybe Jackie will come along and—”
Abruptly, Haffan spun on her heels, disappearing back into the cabin. The hatch door slid shut soundlessly. Cuddy stared at it, unsure how one should talk to children—Pashier or otherwise. Uncertain he wasn’t just a grown-up child himself.
The other hatchways, with the exception of his own, were all closed. He thought about knocking on Jackie’s, but decided against it. It was late and she was probably asleep. Entering his own quarters, he gasped, startled to find someone waiting inside for him.
“How is this even possible?” Cuddy asked, not entirely sure it wasn’t some kind of trick or illusion. “How can you be here?”
Tow offered back a warm smile. “I am not here, Cuddy, not really. I actually am…” Tow looked around the confines of the compartment. “On the other side of Rah.”
It had already occurred to Cuddy that Tow’s appearance was more ghost-like than physical, as he could still see the bulkhead, and the porthole window, behind his nearly transparent form.
“So, is this a telepathic communication?’ Cuddy asked.
“Something like that,” Tow replied.
“I didn’t think you were going to leave for Rah yet. You said it would be days, possibly a week—”
Tow cut him off. “I could no longer wait, Cuddy; too many events now converging. It is where I will be of the most help to you and my people.”
“Are you…like dead? Is that what the other side of Rah means…?”
“You have asked me that before. The answer is no. And your human concept of death is utterly ridiculous. I will be here for a long while, and there are certain rules I must follow. Definitive structures one must always adhere to.”
Cuddy’s attention was suddenly drawn to a blurry movement near Tow’s legs. Twice, something flitted past him, then disappeared just as quickly at the edge of the visualization.
“I am so sorry, Cuddy. I did not realize Rufus had followed me into the heritage pod.” This time the yellow lab stopped short; sitting down, he leaned his big body against Tow’s legs. Then, suddenly noticing Cuddy, he barked loudly several times as his short tail gyrated back and forth.
Conflicting emotions caught Cuddy off-guard—throat constricting, his vision blurred with moisture. God, there was so much he missed about his old life—that so much simpler life. “Will Rufus be allowed to come back?” Cuddy asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“I honestly do not know as there are so many rules. Again, I am very sorry. But what I can tell you, he obviously is ridiculously happy to see you.”
Yes, his dog did seem quite happy, Cuddy acknowledged, then wondered if Rufus would prefer, if given the choice, to be back on the farm. So much more there, for a dog to do. Or maybe not…
“My time here with you is short. There is much I must tell you so you must listen and hold off questions…”
“Okay,” Cuddy said, nodding in compliance.
Rufus, lying on his side, immediately began to lick his testicles. Apparently things weren’t so different on the other side of Rah.
“Pay attention, Cuddy. Soon, you will be landing.”
Cuddy considered his comment. Strange, he wasn’t aware the Farlight had even taken off, yet Tow somehow knew he was on the Howsh ship. Knew about them accompanying Lorgue Supreme Eminence Calph. He really wanted to know how Tow could possibly know these things.
“Darriall is a small planetoid; a neighbor to both Mahli and the Howsh home world of Rahin. Darriall is a 100%-automated library world. Once operated by sentient species, it all too often was a point of contention…of disagreements…between the Howsh and Pashier. So it was mutually agreed upon long ago that Darriall would remain neutral. But the only way to achieve that was to make it computer-operated and fully automated with robots as custodians.”
Cuddy watched Rufus rise to his feet and walk out of view and briefly wondered if he would ever see his dog again.
“But the Darriall library fell into disuse,” Tow continued. “Now, it has become more of a mausoleum than anything else; its power source, the robot attendants, are using ancient technology. Not that they are rusted, but clearly in a state of disrepair from lack of maintenance…and neglect.”
“Perhaps Spilor will be able to repair them,” Cuddy volunteered.
“Speaking of robots, there are security bots, protectors, around to prevent looting and the unauthorized removal of materials. Something you should be aware of. The actual Vault of Calirah is part of the tech library on Darriall. When I was last there, we found destroyed automatons lying around, which had been left there. We assumed it was due to an earlier Howsh raid, though I am not completely certain of that.”
“Wait! I need to check what you want me to do. Should I be helping the Howsh…this Calph guy?”
“For now, yes. I do not believe he has ulterior motives, although the future is not set in stone by any means. That is why you must find the Prophesy of Harkstrong.”
“And Haffan, somehow, is the key to that?” Cuddy asked.
“That is right,” Tow said.
Tow’s ghostly form was beginning to fade. Cuddy was having a hard time seeing him.
“The Prophesy of Harkstrong…is it a physical thing? Is it there, on Darriall?”
“Questions I do not have the answers for. You have progressed in time, beyond what is prophesized in the ancient writings. What is inscribed on the scrolls and tablets…Only you can avert catastrophe, Cuddy. You and the Pashier child.”
“Tow…I can no longer see you.”
“I must go now, Cuddy.”
“Will I see you again?”
“Yes…eventually.”
“Please, Tow, take good care of Rufus.”
Alone in his cabin, Cuddy felt the weight of Tow’s words. Sitting on the bed, he looked toward its end where, in his former other life, Rufus would be curled into a ball fast asleep. Cuddy let gravity and exhaustion pull his head onto the pillow. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.
Chapter 24
Cuddy, blinking awake from a deep sleep, heard someone pounding on his hatch door. Glancing about his surroundings, remembering where he was, he rolled out of bed and went to the hatch. He waved a hand over the auto-latch mechanism and, as the hatch slid to one side, found Jackie and Haffan standing out there. Haffan scooted in past him as Jackie handed him a steaming cup of something. Bringing it up to his nose, he grunted approval. “Where’d you get the coffee?”
Jackie nodded. “I brought some with me.”
Cuddy only recently had acquired a taste for the strong bitter brew. Of late, he found it tough to get going in the morning without drinking a cup. Surprised, he recognized the mug as one he’d used on the Evermore. Jackie, obviously, had put more thought into packing for the trip than he had.
“Who were you talking to last night in here?”
Cuddy spun around to stare at Haffan. “Talking to?” Before she could respond, he said, “What are you wearing?”
Haffan’s eyes darted to Jackie—past Cuddy’s shoulder.
“It’s one of mine…just an old T-shirt,” Jackie said. “Haffan kept asking me why she was the only one without clothes on.”
Cuddy looked down at Haffan, now wearing Jackie’s orange and blue Denv
er Broncos jersey—Number 18. One that fit Jackie nicely, but on Haffan was baggy, hanging down to her knees. He knew the Broncos were Jackie’s favorite football team and she often slept in that jersey. Staring at the alien child, he frowned. Pashier did not wear clothes. Was this a mistake…were they already influencing her culture?
“Let it go, Cuddy, it’s only a shirt. Not a big deal.” Jackie went into the head and he heard running water. Coming out, she said, “Showers running. We’re going to look for the galley.”
About to tell them where to find it on Level 2, he decided to let them have the fun of exploring the ship, just as he’d done the night before. Grabbing his duffle bag, he hurried into the head to, hopefully, a hot shower.
* * *
Stepping off the lift on Level 2, Cuddy’s senses were immediately accosted by nearby sounds of loud voices and laughter. Wonderful aromas too—hot pancakes, sizzling bacon, and other scents he didn’t recognize but found equally tantalizing. When he entered the dining area—just outside of the galley kitchen—no less than twenty were seated around a large metal table. Several others were standing around the periphery—holding mugs, in either hands or claws, whatever the case might be. Four humans, one Pashier child, and seventeen Howsh aliens were passing plates of food around, conversing over and around each other, like it was some large family Sunday brunch get-together.
Kyle and Tony both gave him a quick nod then went back to eating and gabbing. Brian, sitting at the far end of the table didn’t acknowledge Cuddy’s arrival. Talking to one of only two female Howsh crewmembers, she laughed at something he said. Howsh females were anatomically bear-like. Like the Pashier, they typically didn’t wear clothes or uniforms. As she scooted her chair back, she revealed a series of six full and round teats—three per side—down her furry abdomen. Cuddy felt his cheeks flush and averted his eyes.
The Simpleton QUEST Page 11