by Craig Gaydas
The ring of Gliese were right below us at that point. We were about to enter the planet's atmosphere. Kedge returned to his silent brooding. I turned to the window and joined him.
After several moments, it was Gard who broke the silence. “From what I recall, the Order of the Sun is officially classified as a theocracy according to the Explorer's League records. Their beliefs may differ from ours in many ways, but I do not believe they are considered 'evil'.”
“Evil is also subjective,” Kedge grumbled. When he noticed my sour look, he waved his hand in the air. “Fine, I'll clarify. For example, on some planets, slavery is considered evil. On other planets, slaves are treated well and even given a certain social status among the owners.” He moved a lock of hair from his good eye. “Slaves on some planets are oppressed, beaten and starved while others are handed lands and titles. Is slavery really evil or is it simply a misused idea?”
“Good point.” I really had no rebuttal to the statement. “But you still didn't answer my question. Do you think we are doing the right thing by joining with them?”
Kedge sighed. His breath created a metallic rattling noise inside his chest that caused me to wince. “Calypso needs to be dealt with. His twisted version of a new Consortium is an insult to the guiding principles it had been founded on. We are doing what needs to be done to address the situation. It may be the only thing left to do at this point, which makes me believe it is the right thing.”
I turned back to the window. As we flew past the outer rings of the planet, I observed several objects orbiting between the rings and the planet itself. They appeared as silver basketballs embedded with spikes. Gard caught me studying them.
“Those are orbital tracking buoys,” he explained. “They allow the Order to track any incoming vessels and can be remotely detonated to destroy those with hostile intentions. This allows them to combat invaders without having to divert military resources.”
“Interesting,” I replied, even though I was actually thinking it was rather odd for a planet who had considered themselves neutral, to be equipped with such drastic defense measures. From what I had gathered, the planet regularly traded with various races across the universe, making them out to be an exotic interstellar pawn shop.
The Stellar Horizon passed perilously close to one of the buoys. I gripped the railing and braced for an impact that never came. If it was this dangerous just approaching the planet, I could only imagine what it would be like on the surface.
I didn't realize just how right I was.
The Terminal
When we exited the ship, we were greeted by two men adorned in golden armor similar to that which the Defense Fleet wore. Full-sized helmets covered their head and face with the exception of cross shaped cutouts. One of the soldiers stood about six feet tall and the other was a hair over five and a half feet. As they stood next to each other, I couldn't help but think of them as a pair of mismatched bookends. The taller soldier approached and locked on us with hardened hazel eyes. A large scarlet cross had been etched on the front of his armor and a starburst covered the area where the lines connected.
“Braxii extends his apologies for the delay,” the soldier offered gruffly. “He insists you wait here for further instructions. There are refreshments available in the vending machines at each end of the terminal. We have also dispatched a crew to refuel and conduct any routine maintenance you require aboard your ship.”
The docking bay was enormous. I had never been to Grand Central Station, but I assumed the Gliese terminal dwarfed the New York City train station. Several maintenance workers passed us and started to working on our ship. They were short with dark skin and protruding foreheads, but it was their eyes that stole my attention. They seemed filled with sorrow and despair, and that was when I realized they were the slaves alluded to earlier.
“Wait here?” Vigil balked. “This is outrageous! This meeting is extremely important and we do not have time to just stand around and stare at the sky.”
“No offense, sir, but I suggest you make time,” the guard barked. He placed his hand up to the side of his helmet and cocked his head. “Um…yes sir,” the guard spoke into his helmet. “It seems Braxii will not be able to make it at all.”
I clenched my teeth and turned to Vigil, who seemed to be on the verge of an epic meltdown. Before Vigil could erupt like a volcano, the guard held up his hand.
“He has requested that Minister Mazu sit in for him during negotiations. The Minister is on his way from the Obsidian Isles as we speak. His estimated time of arrival is fifteen minutes.”
The burning flush in Vigil's cheeks subsided and he stomped off toward one of the vending machines. Kedge glanced at me and shrugged indifferently. Before I could follow Vigil, Lianne stopped me.
“I'm going to stay behind with the ship and keep an eye on their 'maintenance crew',” she stated. I didn't need to ask to see she distrusted the Order's men. “I think the three of you can handle it from here.”
“I'm sure this will be just a blast,” Kedge replied sarcastically. “Especially with Captain McFunbags over there.” He gestured with his thumb toward Vigil, who just so happened to be embroiled in an argument with the vending machine.
Lianne tossed him a wry smile before vanishing inside the ship. Based on her eagerness to return to the ship, she probably felt the same way about Vigil. He certainly wasn't going to win any popularity contests.
Kedge and I drifted over to one of the vending machines. Instead of a clear Plexiglass front, like vending machines on Earth, it had a digital touch screen encompassing the entire front of the machine. Kedge slid his hand across the screen and cycled through the products contained inside. All the product logos were Greek to me, so I had no idea if it was food or drink that he was cycling through. Kedge stopped at a logo that looked like a metal garbage can with a halo on top. He pushed down on the screen and a can appeared in a slot at the bottom.
“What is that?” I asked.
Kedge bent over and retrieved the can. He held it up and smiled. “Wow, it's been a long time since I wrapped my lips around these.”
He tossed the can at me and I caught it awkwardly. It was heavier and thicker than a soda can, but it wasn't metal. It seemed to be made of some kind of wood and it looked more like a miniature barrel than a traditional can. I had to shift hands because it was cold as ice.
“What is it?” I asked, turning the can over in my hands.
“It's a Kamilian Cooler. I'm surprised they have it, it should be rare to these parts. Guess I'm just lucky.” He smiled, popped the pull tab at the top, and took a sip. “Ahhhhh, it tastes just like heaven.” When he viewed my skepticism, he frowned. “Just try it, you'll see.”
I took the can reluctantly and lifted it to my lips. It was as bubbly as a soda, but it was much sweeter, almost like drinking straight syrup. I accepted the cool liquid reluctantly at first, but as it flowed down my throat, I engorged myself on more, taking one large swallow.
“Wow it tastes like raspberries,” I exclaimed. “It does taste like heaven,” I chuckled and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “It's probably the best thing I have ever tasted.”
“Whoa there sport, don't be drinking the whole thing!” Kedge grabbed the can and drained it. He let out a hearty burp and tossed the can in a nearby garbage can. He turned to me and grinned mischievously, causing me to narrow my eyes suspiciously.
“What?” I asked. Before he could respond, my vision started to become blurry. Suddenly there were two Kedges standing in front of me. I broke out in a cold sweat. The terminal started to spin and I had to stick my hand out to steady myself against the vending machine. “What the hell?” I cried in alarm.
Kedge roared with laughter and the room rotated another 360 degrees. The vending machine was on the ceiling briefly before settling back to the floor. It didn't physically move, mind you, that's just how the vertigo instructed my eyes to see it. I was so overcome by dizziness that I thought I would pass out.
“What the hell did you do to me?” I gasped.
Kedge ceased laughing and slapped me on the back. I thought I would fall face first to the floor. “Oh, did I forget to tell you? Kamilian Coolers are strong alcoholic drinks. I forgot you were a first timer with alcohol.” He brayed laughter until tears formed in his good eye. If I wasn't sidetracked by a spinning room, I would have slugged him in his good eye, but I had to settle for bitter muttering instead.
Kedge led me to a nearby bench and I stumbled onto it. “Don't worry, the effect is short. The room should stop spinning in about twenty minutes,” he explained.
“Are you two done playing around,” Vigil grumbled as he wandered over from his side of the room. “I hear a train approaching, so make sure to get all the shenanigans out of the way.”
I looked toward the track that ran through the center of the station, but it was no use. I was seeing two of everything. Instead, I closed my eyes and settled for listening. Vigil was right, a train was approaching. The low humming sound steadily increased until it became a dull roar once it entered the terminal. The elevated rail system entered the terminal and I expected it to enter like a monorail—on top of the rail. The bullet train actually hung below the rail until it reached the terminal, where it rotated counterclockwise before it entered.
Kedge picked at the metal plate over his throat. “Well that's interesting.”
The train came to a stop and the doors slid open. The only people to exit the train were two guards armed with rifles slung over their shoulders and a man dressed like a medieval monk. He had an orange robe tied at the waist by a golden rope. The skin of his face was so tan that it was almost orange. He looked almost human, except his slanted blue eyes were spread further apart, flanking a round nose as large as a softball with a single nostril. Despite the loose folds of his robe, it could barely contain his girth. His stout belly nearly hung from the robe, but the rope belt proved stronger than it looked. When he spotted us, a broad smile split his face, revealing several gold teeth.
“Welcome to Gliese, my name is Mazu,” he beamed. “I apologize for the delay, but it is difficult keeping to a schedule while running a planet.” His smile remained and I couldn't be sure if he was serious or making a joke. It was difficult to read the portly man's expressions.
“I understand,” Vigil replied. I was amazed how his expression went from aggravated to diplomatic in a heartbeat. The Timeless chose him to be their representative for a reason. “We are looking forward to seeing your planet and beginning our dialogue.” He accentuated the statement with a smile. It was the first time I had ever seen him smile. It appeared so genuine it was scary. “This is Nathan Chambers and Kedge Mal'Dineen.” He pointed at each of us as we were introduced. I waved my hand briefly before returning it stiffly to my side, realizing how silly a gesture it was. Kedge remained silent.
“Let us delay no further,” Mazu replied, sweeping his hand toward the waiting train. “Shall we be on our way?”
Vigil followed him aboard. Before I entered, I turned to Kedge, who remained strangely quiet during the entire verbal exchange. I looked down and saw his hand resting on the butt of his weapon. When he saw me staring, he removed the hand and quickly boarded the train.
I watched him go with piqued curiosity. Did he see something that I had not? As I slowly boarded the train and watched them move through the train cars, I suddenly found myself second guessing the decision to come to Gliese.
“This is no time to play Monday morning quarterback,” I muttered in an attempt to reassure myself. I couldn't shake my trepidation, something was about to go horribly wrong.
The Proposal
The outside of the train was deceptive because the inside was much bigger than I thought. I expected the inside to look like a typical Earth train, but I was surprised at the layout. Instead of an aisle splitting rows of seats, they were backed against the walls in pairs with a small table separating them. Commuters filled the seats and went about their day reading a paper or looking at their hand held electronic devices. Most ignored us as we passed. Some gave us mild glances of curiosity before returning to their activity. Mazu led us toward a private car located at the rear of the train. My group was sandwiched between him and two of the Ministry's royal guards as we walked. Before we reached the rear car, I noticed a couple keeping their eyes down, almost making an effort not to look at us. It was as if they were afraid to look up. Vigil noticed them also, but did not say anything.
When we entered the private car, the two guards remained outside. I stepped inside and looked around. I could see the car was private for a reason. It was a luxury beyond anything that the standard passengers could enjoy. Two fur-covered loveseats faced each other on one side of the car, while several leather-bound chairs were stationed against the windows. A brick fireplace sat at the far end of the car and next to it was a cherry-wood bookcase filled to capacity with books. A large, flat-screen television had been mounted on the wall between the two loveseats and another mounted over the fireplace. The train started to move before I could absorb all of the beauty of the cabin.
“I see by your faces that you approve of our Royal Suite,” Mazu beamed.
“I bet Vayne would love to be here,” I replied.
Vigil chuckled dryly. “I would have to agree with you on that point. At this very moment he would be trying to contemplate the logistics of loading the train onto his ship.”
I couldn't stop myself from laughing because deep down I knew Vigil was right. An image formed in my head of Vayne trying to load the luxury train car into his ship. Mazu looked at me queerly and I stifled myself as best I could.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “I was just thinking of an old friend.”
Mazu nodded and offered me a warm smile in reply. “No offense taken. It is good to see people laughing. Despite our most prosperous year ever, the people of Gliese could use some laughter.”
“Why, is something wrong?” Vigil asked.
Mazu's smile faded and his face turned serious. “It is not for me to say. That is for the Prophet to explain.” He picked up a remote control from a nearby end table and switched on the television over the fireplace. A commercial came on promoting an Autojack 900, an automated jackhammer for use in mining where the danger was too great for miners to go. Even aliens have to deal with commercials, I mused before Mazu continued. “But rather than focus on the negative, let us focus on the beauty of Gliese.”
He motioned toward the window and my eyes followed. According to Mazu, the train's top speed was seventy-five miles per hour, but we hadn't quite reached that speed as of yet. The countryside floated past us, giving way to jagged mountains which split the sky along the horizon. Below us, sprawling forests and grasslands were split by a river about as wide as the Nile. Dotted along the river's edge were fishermen holding rods as thick as baseball bats and at least twice the length. Whatever they were trying to fish out of the water must be enormous.
“Below us, you will see the Riverlands District, which is overseen by my colleague Deb,” Mazu explained. “These rivers are rich with large-mouth skeet and razorfish which are delicacies enjoyed by the populace. The forests are fertile, filled with lush vegetation which feeds the people throughout the five districts.”
The forests soon gave way to grasslands where a pack of pale creatures grazed. At first, they appeared as oversized hippos, but upon closer inspection, they seemed more like rhinos, with the exception of two horns running parallel to their nose. The pack was making quick work of the grass, creating brown potholes among the sea of grass. Up ahead, a large stone wall loomed in the distance which seemed to extend for miles. From my estimates, it dwarfed the Great Wall in China.
“What's that?” I asked, pointing toward it.
Mazu glanced at the wall and smiled broadly. “Well that, my young friend, is a wall.” When I tossed him a sour look, he held up his hand and clarified. “It is a wall which separate
s the districts.”
“Why do you need a wall?” I asked.
Mazu ignored the question. “We are now leaving the Riverlands and should be making our way toward our next stop, which is the Farming Biome.”
“Next stop?” Vigil interrupted. “I was under the impression we were heading directly to the Temple.”
Kedge stiffened next to me. I assumed his distrust of the Order meant any changes in the schedule, no matter how minor or insignificant, would lead to unrest. When I looked at him, his hand was resting on the butt of his pistol.
“Well sir, this is a train, what did you expect?” he said with a wry grin etched on his face. “Not only is this rail transport from space port, it is also the main commuter rail for our people.” He pointed toward the door leading to the other cars. “Those people have places to go as well.”
A grim look crossed Vigil's face. “My apologies, I didn't realize our delays would be compounded more than they already have been.”
Mazu held up his hand. “No need to apologize. If anyone should apologize, it should be me, for not explaining in the beginning.”
Kedge relaxed and removed his hand from his weapon, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing we needed was to get into a gun battle with a representative of the Order aboard one of their very own trains.
Vigil seemed to be satisfied with his response. He turned and stared blankly out the window. I joined him and watched as the train passed over the wall. The grasslands vanished and were replaced by rolling emerald hills filled with tracts of a vegetable that seemed like a larger version of corn. Silos lined the hills while dark brown animals roamed the fields, tended by farmers. The animals, similar to cows but larger and hairier, lumbered back and forth chewing grass and taking an occasional prod from a farmer.