by Craig Gaydas
“We are now passing into the Farming Biome, the last district before we reach the Temple,” Mazu explained. “This district produces meat, grains, and dairy and distributes them to the people of Gliese.”
Kedge chimed in. “It seems you have a well-run organization going on here.”
Mazu frowned. “This is a society, not an organization. I would hope a human could appreciate what we have here.”
Kedge narrowed his good eye, while his bionic eye focused on Mazu. “What is that supposed to mean.”
His body went rigid and I was worried he would leap out of his chair and strangle Mazu. Fortunately for all of us, Mazu seemed to disarm Kedge with a smile.
“I apologize, I meant no disrespect. From what I understand of the geography of human culture, we are not unlike one another. If anyone can appreciate what we do here, I was hoping it would be you and Nathan. Over time, humans have shown to possess similar cultural desires and landscapes, at least according to what I read in the Archives.”
As I watched the farmers herd the animals and tend to the fields, I understood where Mazu was coming from. When I turned toward Kedge, I saw the mistrust etched on his face. He still did not believe the Order's intentions were benevolent. Vigil, on the other hand, couldn't care less about the scenery outside because he was too busy fiddling with something that looked like an oversized cell phone.
“I'm sorry, are we interrupting your game of Candy Crush?” I asked.
Vigil did not look amused. When he looked up, he actually looked pale. “I'm sorry to ask this, but can I have some privacy for a few moments?”
Kedge and I exchanged concerned looks. Mazu, on the other hand, appeared unperturbed. “No problem, I understand.” He smiled warmly, stood, and straightened his robes. “We have another stop coming up soon, I will check with the engineer to make sure we are still on schedule.” Before he opened the door he turned back to us. “The guards will be outside should you need anything.”
When the door closed, I turned to Vigil with concern. “What's wrong? You look like you have just seen a ghost.”
Vigil pushed a button alongside the device and a three dimensional image of Lianne sprang up above it. “Go ahead and repeat your message, we are alone now,” Vigil said.
Although the three dimensional figure was blue in color, judging by the look on her face, I had a feeling she was as pale as Vigil. Whatever message she had to relay, it seemed to affect both of them deeply. She turned and the image switched to the large screen aboard the bridge of the Stellar Horizon. Ibune appeared on the screen flanked by Horus and Arcturus. Their stern expressions were frozen in time. Lianne touched the screen and the message began.
“This is Ibune contacting the Stellar Horizon with a message for Vigil. Infiltration of Astral Spirit did not go as planned. Moro has been captured by enemy forces. Incoming message received at twenty-three-oh-four galactic time.”
The image of the grim trio faded and was replaced by a much more forbidding trio. Calypso and Hark-Kalech flanked a bound and blindfolded Moro. Moro was on his knees and Hark-Kalech held a gun to the back of his head. Although the color of the image was blue due to the hologram I recognized Calypso's suit as the same one he wore the day I met him. His smile was a stark contrast to Hark-Kalech's frown. I felt the blood drain from my face. It must have pooled in my calves because for some reason, they felt like they were on fire.
“I am disappointed.” It was Calypso who spoke. “I believed the whole idea behind your insurgency was in response to the High Prince's attack upon Earth.” Calypso shook his head somberly. “Embeth, as the leader of the Insurgents, I had hoped you would appreciate what I am doing.” He waved his hands dramatically as his smile faded. “Is this how you thank me, by sending an assassin to kill me? I chose to leave you in peace and concentrate my efforts with returning the Consortium to its former glory, but you leave me no choice now.” He circled Moro one time before folding his arms across his chest. “And what am I supposed to do with you?”
“You can let me go so I can finish the job,” Moro growled.
Hark-Kalech smacked him on the back of the head with his pistol. Moro looked down silently. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of showing pain or discomfort. I had to admire him for that. He was as tough as he was fierce-looking.
Calypso looked toward the screen. “What do you think I should do with him, Embeth? Should I treat him like the assassin he is and shoot him in the back of the head?” Calypso rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Or perhaps I should consider him a prisoner of war. Are we at war, Embeth? I supposed now there can be no peace between us.”
Before anyone could respond, the image of the three faded and the screen returned to Lianne. “As you can see Vigil, whatever you people had planned blew up in our face. Embeth is already busy trying to provide damage control for this situation.” She paused and her face hardened. “Do I need to say it?”
“No,” Vigil replied. “We know what has to be done. Aligning with the Order of the Sun has now become priority one.”
Lianne nodded and the screen went blank. Vigil looked down at the floor and mumbled something unintelligible.
“What the hell did you people do?” I barked. My anger was rising like a tide. I kept my fists clenched tightly against my sides.
Vigil responded to my anger with a cool, collected look which only served to irritate me further. “We saw a chance to end this war and we seized on the opportunity. Eliminating Calypso would have broken what was left of the shattered remains of the Consortium. Engaging in a long, drawn out war serves no one. What did you expect us to do?”
“Well to be honest, I didn't expect you guys to sacrifice one of your own by sending him into the hornet's nest,” I replied dryly.
“So what's the plan now?” Kedge asked.
Vigil ran his hand over his face. He looked exhausted. Despite his stubborn exterior, it seemed Moro's capture affected him deeply. His somber expression prevented my anger from rising any further.
“We pray,” he replied. “Pray that the Order agrees to our proposal.”
Deception
When Mazu returned, he took one look at us and his smile faded. “Is something wrong?”
Vigil shook his head. “We just received news from our allies. It is nothing to be concerned about and I promise it will not interfere with our negotiations.” He tossed me a hard look and I got the hint: Don't say a word.
Mazu's smile returned and he bowed his head in acknowledgement. “I completely understand. I bring news as well. We will be arriving at the Temple Station shortly.”
The train slowed as he spoke. A voice spoke from the overhead speaker: “Now approaching Temple Station. All passengers please prepare for final vertical shift.”
I assumed the “vertical shift” was the train rotation that I witnessed back at the ship. Outside, the countryside passed by more slowly. Rolling green hills dotted with yellow and purple flowers blanketed the countryside. Beyond the hills towered enormous mountains with snow-tipped caps. They were larger than any mountain I had ever seen. Its jagged peaks were circled by violet clouds like halos. Several animals below grazed on the flowers, and the scene reminded me of buffalo in the old west. The animals were similar in appearance, fat and slow, with the exception of large curved horns that pointed straight up, like upside down elephant tusks.
I turned from the window, seated myself next to Vigil and Kedge and braced for the impending shift. It wasn't as bad as I expected. It was gentle and felt more like an elevator moving upwards. When the train came to a complete stop, Mazu stood up and led us to the door. The two guards flanked us as we made our way down the aisles and toward the exit. The passenger cars were empty and it seemed that the train had emptied earlier. I assumed only invited guests were allowed to continue to the Temple station.
We disembarked and stepped into a terminal similar to the one we left. Mazu and his guards led us outside where the cool, crisp air pierced my lungs like an icy dagger. My bre
ath formed small, white clouds while I tasted ice crystals on my tongue. It had to be around thirty degrees outside. I shivered through my hooded sweatshirt that I brought along—the last piece of clothing remaining from my former life on Earth. I shoved the hood over my head and rubbed my arms to keep warm. Kedge didn't seem to mind the weather. He was wearing a long trench coat, but he was more machine than man anyway, and I wasn't exactly sure how the environment affected him. Vigil only had a thin vest constructed of some sort of synthetic fabric. He didn't seem to mind the weather, but then again, he was someone who could withstand the harsh environment of space, so a little chill in the air shouldn't bother him.
There was a two lane road which ran parallel to the terminal, leading into a tunnel. A double decker bus sat at the curb with a set of stairs extended from the middle. The vehicle was a perfect rectangle with tinted glass windows. It was red in color with neon tube lights highlighting the outside of the vehicle. Between the first-class train car and the limo bus, it appeared the Order of the Sun leadership took their luxury seriously. Kedge glanced at the vehicle with only minor interest while a scowl was plastered to Vigil's face. He must have been thinking of Vayne and his taste for luxury.
“This transport will take us to Brasus Plaza. From there, we will meet Braxii and he will take over our tour.” Mazu ascended the stairs and turned to us once he reached the top. “I like to think of myself as a worthy diplomat, but I believe you will find Braxii a bit more jovial than me.” He smiled and entered the bus.
Kedge turned to me. “Is that even possible?” he muttered. “I thought I would gag from all the pleasantries.”
I chuckled. “Come on grumpy old man, let's get you up these stairs before you fall and break a hip.”
Kedge muttered something under his breath and entered the bus. I stepped up behind him and froze when I saw the inside. The luxury of the vehicle rivaled that of the train. Several leather-bound couches lined the walls of the vehicle. Separating the couches were circular bars lined with wine glasses and various bottles filled with colorful, exotic spirits. A glass partition separated us and the driver of the bus—a cantankerous, bald behemoth of a man who looked like a hairless gorilla. He was dark-skinned with a protruding forehead and bulbous nose. His sausage fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly and his steely eyes remained locked on the road ahead. He didn't even turn when we entered the vehicle, but I wasn't sure he could turn because his thick neck was almost nonexistent. Our armed escorts retired to the top half of the vehicle via a spiral staircase located at the opposite end of the bus.
Mazu motioned us toward the couches. I dropped into the nearest one and stretched out. I was determined to soak up the luxury while I had the chance. Vigil and Kedge sat across from me. Judging by their faces, neither one was taking as much pleasure from our surroundings as I was.
Mazu removed a bottle from a nearby bar that was filled with a clear liquid. It appeared to be more of a crystal decanter than a traditional bottle. He removed one of the wine glasses and filled it before handing it to Vigil.
Vigil narrowed his eyes, but did not accept it.
“It is only water,” Mazu chuckled.
Vigil relaxed, eventually acceptingthe drink. Mazu passed a glass to me and I took a sip. After Kedge's little prank on me at the terminal, I was a bit more cautious about what was offered. I sniffed it and took a small sip. When I determined it really was water, I swallowed the rest in a single gulp. The liquid was cool, crisp and refreshing—better than any spring water I ever had on Earth. Kedge sipped from the glass and set it aside casually.
Satisfied that everyone enjoyed their beverage, Mazu turned toward the driver. “Jori, please take us to the Temple.”
The driver nodded slowly and put the bus into drive. The vehicle lurched forward and Mazu returned his attention to us. He poured himself a glass of water and cleared his throat. “We apologize for having to use ground transport to the Temple, but due to increased rebel activity, we have had to restrict air travel.”
“Rebel activity?” Vigil asked.
Sorrow fell over Mazu and he nodded somberly. “I'm afraid so. Not everyone shares the Order's beliefs or respects their authority over these lands.” He took another sip of his drink before continuing. “Our belief in Brasus, the Sun God, and his absolute authority over the planet, does not sit well with them.” He pointed toward the window. “The sun brings us life and represents the symbol of Brasus. When a sun dies, life follows. In return for his generosity, the Order has vowed to keep the power of the sun from fading.”
“How can you do that?” I asked. When everyone turned to me, I held up my hands in confusion. “How do you stop a sun from dying?”
“Clean living,” Mazu explained. “We work at protecting the environment through organic industry.”
“You mean slavery,” Kedge replied with a scowl.
Mazu seemed taken aback. “Slavery? One cannot enslave the willing, sir.”
“The willing?” I asked skeptically.
Mazu nodded. “The people of Gliese understand that sacrifices must be made to ensure the cycle of life continues.”
Before I could protest further, Vigil laid a hand upon my forearm. “We are not here to judge the way the Order handles their business.” He turned to Mazu and raised an eyebrow. “I am, however, concerned about this rebel activity you mentioned.”
I turned to see the bus driver studying us through the rear-view mirror. He quickly looked away when he spotted me. Before I could determine if his curiosity had been innocent or something more sinister, Mazu waved his hand with indifference.
“The rebel activity is nothing to be concerned with. We have recently made a deal which should reduce the rebellion significantly.” He picked up a remote and switched on the television. “In fact, Braxii was so thrilled with the recent developments that he wanted to tell you himself.” He pointed to the screen.
“I thought we were going to the Temple?” Vigil asked.
Mazu remained silent. Instead, an image of a man filled the television screen. He was flanked by two guards adorned in the same gold armor and holy symbols as the guards with us. His bushy, brown beard flowed down to his bare chest. I observed two tattoos of sunbursts, one on each shoulder. His dark, emotionless eyes sat upon an angular nose, unlike the bulbous noses I had seen from other natives of the planet. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly, as if he had just swallowed a bag of rock salt.
“Greetings, envoy of the Insurgents. I apologize that we could not meet in person, but I hope Mazu has taken adequate care of your needs?”
“He has been fine,” Vigil replied with a hint of aggravation. “I was under the impression we were meeting in person to conduct these negotiations.”
“That was the original plan,” Braxii replied with a solemn look. “But we received an offer from Calypso that we couldn't refuse.”
“Calypso?” I cried in alarm.
Before any of us could move, large metal bands extended from the seats and wrapped around our legs and torsos. I tried to wriggle free, but it was like being hugged by a grizzly bear. I couldn't budge an inch.
“I knew it!” Kedge growled.
“What is this treachery?” Vigil cried. “We came to you with no ill intent. We came to you in PEACE!”
Braxii appeared almost apologetic. “I know. It pains me that it had to come to this, but Calypso assured us that bringing you here would help end the conflict.”
“Why are you helping him?” I asked, struggling uselessly against my bonds.
Braxii smirked, but there was little humor behind it. “Well to be honest, the Consortium has the financing and manpower to aid us against the rebellion. They have been a nuisance for some time now and counter-productive to what we are trying to accomplish on Gliese.”
“And what are you trying to accomplish?” Kedge sneered.
Braxii's smirk bloomed into a toothy smile. “All we want is a utopian society, of course.” His smile faded and he looked off screen.
Someone was talking to him, but I couldn't make out the words. He nodded his acknowledgement and returned his attention to the screen. “We are in the process of securing your ship so I would suggest that you agree to our offer.”
“What offer would that be?” I asked through clenched teeth. The thought of Lianne being left back at the terminal with only a skeleton crew left a sour taste in my mouth.
“Join us,” he replied simply. “No further harm will come to you or your allies. Calypso personally assured me that, if you surrender peacefully, you will be reinstated within the Consortium with all prior ranks and privileges.”
“What about those of us who held no rank or privileges?” Kedge snorted.
Braxii paused for several seconds before replying. “I suppose that is something which still remains to be discussed.” The screen went dark.
“Wait a minute—” I protested.
Sounds of a violent struggle erupted from the top level of the bus. Two loud bangs, followed by several muffled thuds could be heard before silence descended over us. Mazu shot out of his chair like his legs were on fire. He hurried to the bottom of the staircase and looked up.
“What's going on up there?” he shouted.
Footsteps shuffled along the floor upstairs. Slowly, they made their way to the staircase. Concerned, Mazu slowly backed away from them.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was the sound of something metallic scraping against the iron stairs. At first, all I could see was a pair of scuffed work boots descending down the stairs. Eventually a man wearing faded denim pants appeared, taking one step at a time in a slow, methodical manner. The tapping sound I heard actually came from the blade he was carrying. He held it hilt first and was rapping the edge of the blade against each stair as he descended. The mirror like finish of the blade was marred with the scarlet stains of blood. Small puddles collected on each stair each time the blade hit the stair. Mazu retreated so quickly he tripped over one of the bars, sending glasses crashing to the floor.
The man descended the last stair and stood perfectly still, surveying the scene before him. A hat was pulled down low, covering half of his face and enshrouding his features in shadow. With the exception of the hat and sword, he looked like a farmer. With faded denim overalls and work boots, he could have been someone who just stepped from the fields.