The Council of Hhearn Trilogy Box Set

by P F Walsh

  “Welly, what is your impression on how the ship is performing?”

  Sean asked the ship’s new engineer Welkt-Tor as he came into the galley. When Sean was recruiting for this position in the crew, ‘Welly’ was recommended by the Senior Councilor of the Council of Worlds as being the best possible engineer a starship could have. His credentials supported that compliment, and Sean was gratified to have him on board. An earlier experience on the Seeker ship when attacked by a Zakar warship caused him to consider complete dependence upon an AI might not be the smartest thing to do when heading into unknown engagements in deep space. A micro injury to the AI’s memory sink could disable abilities to defend the ship, not to mention regular ship’s operations.

  “She is performing perfectly Captain. In fact, the transitions in and out of ‘no-space’ are the smoothest I have ever felt. I sure wish I could get inside the engines and transition initiator to see how the builder did it, but those are sealed.”

  Sean smiled and replied, “No tinkering with those Welly!”

  Welly nodded affirmatively, issued a casual salute and turned to go back to the engine room with his soft drink to which he had become quite attached. The synthesizer was producing a very close copy of Earth’s Diet Pepsi.

  Sean went back to his reading of the ship’s operations manual, difficult reading but he recalled all the classes and training he had to attend before flying an F-15. There were similarities in operating a complex technical machine. He could see a tendency to shift that burden to the AI, but he knew such complete dependence was folly. Ai’s don’t work without power, or with damaged memory cells. The human brain was the ultimate backup.

  Doris came into the galley to have a snack. He watched her putting together a healthy sized sandwich. Sean always marveled at her ability to consume large quantities of food and not put on the expected weight that might have occurred if he ate the same amount. Being 80 Earth years old, Sean would have been subject to unwelcomed weight gain. When the Seeker had chosen him as its choice for Earth’s representative though, it surreptitiously infected him with micro nanites which were programmed to revitalize his health and strength so as to insure he would complete his task of appearing before the Council and presenting a case for Earth’s inclusion in membership. Now, he was not only revitalized, his life expectancy had been doubled. Still, he maintained his careful diet. After decades of resolute behavior, he was not about to change.

  Doris Lang, a former LA Police Officer and the recipient of the sobriquet ‘Moosey’ by her co-workers on that Force, brought her sandwich and a drink to the table Sean was sitting at.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Sure, sit down. Gives me a break from stuffing all this technical data in my head.” He answered.

  “Welly was just by and is very happy with how the ship is performing. It is somewhat hard for me to tell a difference between this ship and the Seeker, but I have to admit, he’s right about the transition into ‘no-space’ being smoother, you agree?”

  Doris held up her hand to wait while she chewed and swallowed the big bite out of her sandwich.

  “Yeah, he’s right about that. I’m not ready to sleep through it like you do but, it is better.”

  “Sean, what do you think we’re going to find when we get to Denknish?” She asked, searching for whether he had any feelings or premonitions.

  “Doris, I am totally blank on that, when I try to get a feeling for a possible scenario, it’s like there’s nothing there. We might just as well be on a cruise boat on the Mississippi river. I don’t have any good or bad feelings. Even the Sisters have nothing.”

  Sean was referring to the two Sisters of Mak’am he brought aboard as crew, responding to a strong feeling he had then that they would be needed, despite the reservations of everyone else of having them on board.

  The Sisters of Mak’am were one of Hhearn’s greatest mysteries to Sean, virtually ignored by Hhearnians as not being worth more consideration than what type of mortar was used in the sidewalks. No one seemed to know just when they came into being or what their purpose was. Most saw them as some kind of friendly spirit that one could see but not engage with. Their ability to deftly scan the minds of the population as they passed by, troubled no one since they never seemed to do anything with the information. The exception to this was when they discerned a mind that was full of malice or pursuits of criminality. When that happened, their hooded black robes trimmed with red piping began to turn red all over.

  The two Sisters were pledged into Sean’s care by the Mother Primitia of their Den, a centuries old water mill long out of original use, but maintained by the Sisters. There was no apparent access except two huge wooden front doors which no one had ever seen open. Sean had knocked on those doors and was admitted. He was the first man to do so in over two Centuries. His conversation with Mother Primitia was also pledged to be secret and Sean was adamant about that. They only thing he revealed was that he could communicate with them but did not describe how. As far as he knew, he was the only one outside of their ranks to be able to do so.

  On war torn Denknish, in a windowless chamber at the rear of the Shrine of First Faith, Nazzdropa Paklar, the aged Chief Priest of the Shrine, wearily read the Passages of Respite within the First Faith Scroll. He handled the scroll with white cloth gloves to ensure this fragile document of unknown age came to no injury. Social cataclysms in centuries past had interrupted the priesthood keepers several times, destroyed their journals thus losing the history of the First Faith scroll, and the age of the document. The First Faith itself, placed upon the minds and lips of children persisted, and still flourished on Denknish and their historical enemy Lotma. The Scroll, hidden by the priests before they perished, survived and now lay spread open before the tired eyes of the Chief Priest. It was late at night; the power allocation had long been used up so he read by three oil lamps.

  He read:

  “In the deepness of your despair, the spirit of First Faith will awake and hear your distress. It will send a Majjoo. He will come from the dark with ghosts, for there is much that is unseen in the dark. He will know the ancient words and be admitted, and then he will speak for the dead. Prepare to be judged. Upon the body of peace shall the wounds be healed.”

  He stopped reading, and with a deep sigh, removed the weights and allowed the scroll to roll itself back up. He gently tied a crimson ribbon around the scroll and slipped it into a cloth sleeve. He left his reading room and went down the main hall to a small room, not much more than a large closet, and put the scroll back into its storage chamber hidden behind a large stone in the wall. It had been saved there for centuries, secure in the wall of a small room now used for janitor supplies. The main Shrine worship room had been plundered over the centuries by looters and non-believers looking to destroy the scroll, even unearthing burials in the floor of past Priests and dignitaries, all without success.

  Doreem Nool, Honored Speaker of the Denknish Assembly slammed the door to her office after a contentious meeting with Assembly Members on the issues of holding discussion with their nemesis, the rogue world Lotma. Centuries old war and animus between the two worlds had left both in terrible condition. All aspects of both societies suffered. Industry, military, finance, food, she couldn’t think of a single entity that had prospered or escaped harmful affect.

  “This war has sapped us both dry.” She thought. “We will be down to fighting with swords and spears soon, that is if we had enough fuel to get to the fighting ground!” She knew Lotma was in identical condition but her mood soured as she realized that there weren’t any acceptable options to end or win the war that would find favor among the Assembly.

  “There will be public demonstrations soon, maybe even riots. Then, we will be fighting our own people. We must find a solution and soon. We were too well matched as adversaries.” Her mind reeled in futility.

  “Madam Speaker, Drabis is here with his report, shall I send him in?” asked the Speaker’s secretary through
the intercom.

  “Yes, Yes, send him in, let’s get it over with.” She went over to her desk and sat down as Drabis entered the office. Drabis Manyee was the Speaker’s personal researcher. He took assignments from her to research into any area where the Speaker needed reliable information. The Department of Research and Assets was full of bureaucrats, and all their reports were structured to offend nobody, hence their reports were only a hint of what the real data would show. Drabis’ reports were uncolored and without consideration of who they may offend.

  “Drabis, sit down. What have you got for me, please start with the most critical items first?” She instructed as he sat down and opened his folders to withdraw sheets of analysis.

  “Madam Speaker, how shall I categorize that? Military, industry, or Civil?” He inquired. She was quick to answer,

  “Which strikes you as the most urgent”

  “Well Ma’am, I believe the Civil one will be uppermost for your considerations.” He replied.

  “Get on with it then.”

  “Yes Ma’am, there are several dimensions to this area, production, distribution, consumption, employment, but it will all sort down to... we do not have enough food to feed our planet. I can list dozens of reasons why, mostly the war, but that does not create food. Many land areas that were devoted to food production are now barren from orbital bombardment and will not be ready to produce food for at least a few annuals. The other side knew where to hit us, as we did them.” He reluctantly expressed his findings.

  “We must acquire an outside food supply or there will be severe rationing and assuredly, civil unrest. I suspect strongly that Lotma is in the same straits.”

  She took his report on food as he handed to her. Dropping her eyes,

  “This is certainly not what I wanted to hear, but it is better that I know in advance instead of ‘sneaky leakies’ from the Department of Research by political opportunists. They are sure to come, but if it is like all their other reports, I think I have about ten solars to create a position.” She spoke, mostly to herself.

  When she was through talking to herself Drabis said,

  “The rest of the reports are stacked in order of criticality Ma’am” as he placed his reports on her desk. They were all marked ‘Most Secret’ as was the one she was holding.

  “I would lock those up Ma’am, your access only, I have no copies.” He said.

  “Is there anything else Ma’am?”

  “No Drabis, as usual you are thorough and your data is always accurate. Thank you for your work, not the data.” She sullenly answered softly. He quietly rose from his chair and left her office.

  “Now, what am I going to do about all this, and why in the darkest pit of suffering souls did I want this job?” She thought.

  A short time later the Speaker’s secretary was in with the Speaker mixing her an ‘end of the solar’ drink preparing to close up the office for the solar before the allocation of power was used up. Even though this was the building for the highest office on Denknish, The Speaker felt it should suffer from the same shortages as the rest of the planet to illustrate empathy for the discomforts it caused. The Commercial areas and government buildings were to cease consumption of power at sundown. The general population sections which lost power during the daylight, could now turn on their lights and appliances.

  As the secretary handed the Speaker her drink, she said,

  “Madam Speaker you received a call today from the Chief Priest at the Shrine. I told him you were very busy and I took a message.” As she handed the drink to the Speaker.

  “What did he say?” She asked.

  “He said he wanted to meet with you to arrange a planet-wide prayer solar. He said he knows our world is in great need and believes that prayer would help.” The Secretary recited.

  The Speaker became very thoughtful, and realized this might be what was needed right now. Draw together and share hope, show leadership.

  “Call him back tomorrow and tell him I agree, look at my schedule and set a date, sooner than later. Move some things around if you have to.” She said. “After you talk with him and agree on a date, contact the media and let them know. Tell them we would like broadcast time for this during the residential hours. Make it a one-hour allocation, state business.”

  “Yes Ma’am, I will make that my first call in the morning.” The secretary turned and left the office closing the door behind her so the Speaker could enjoy her drink alone, she knew the Speaker had no one waiting for her at home.

  Speaker Nool sat there watching as the sun began to disappear behind the adjacent buildings. Shortly after, all the lights went out as power allocation shifted to residential. Only the exit signs were now lit. She sighed, knowing that only a few power generating stations remained undamaged, and the others needing months, some even years, to repair and rebuild.

  “It will be like this for a long time.” She thought

  Hekt-Lar, secretary and aid to Senior Councilor Trakt-Men of the Council of Worlds on Hhearn, came into the Councilor’s office after a quick knock on the door.

  “Councilor, I have received word from a courier drone sent by Joceen-Mil captain of the Council warship ‘Demander.’ She reports that they have found the portion of the Zakar warship that went tumbling away after Captain Flynn destroyed the ship’s center section in the attack on Seeker number 18.

  She claims there were several survivors. One of them was the Zakar Captain. They have all been taken into custody.”

  “Excellent Hekt, when will the ship arrive back on Hhearn?”

  “The Captain estimates in four solars, Sir.”

  “Inform the Rules Enforcement division to be prepared to receive prisoners. The booking charges will be ‘Piracy’. Also notify the Rhhymnet Embassy to convey a message to their Zakar Embassy that we have apprehended Zakar pirates. Member planet Rhhymnet is as far away as we have now, except for Earth. That will delay exchanges and make it troublesome for Zakar since we threw all their Embassy employees off of Hhearn for attacking our Seeker. It also gives little Rhhymnet some play in Council politics.” He said.

  After a moment’s thought, he continued,

  “I am told the Captain of the pirate ship is the clan brother of our former Zakarian Ambassador that murdered the former Senior Councilor, is that correct?” the Councilor asked.

  “Yes sir, that’s right.”

  “Does anyone know where the Ambassador is now? He will be seeking a blood settlement with Captain Flynn under the belief his clan brother is dead.”

  “I will check Councilor, warrants for his arrest for the murder have been issued and copied to all the Member Worlds. So far, no one knows where he might be. The issue is a bit sticky since he assumedly has diplomatic status.”

  Very well, get the legal people to work on it, do your best.” Said the Councilor and went back to work trying to cleaning up the mess left behind by his predecessor.

  After a minute or two he couldn’t help replaying in his mind some of the events that had transpired over the past lunar,

  ”The Zakar attack on our Seeker, Captain Flynn’s destruction of most of that vessel, his successful achievement of membership, fraud and deceit by the past Senior Councilor, so much has changed and while it was difficult to go through, we are better off now than before. We have the discovery of Earth the thank for all that. What might have been different for those last two worlds that we sent into vassal status?” He thought.

  He realized that they should have been listening to those who opposed vassal status for any world since it was virtual slavery. He would need to spend some time with Nasht-Mer the Director General of Interplanetary Relations. She turned out to be a remarkable woman and her handling of this latest application was perfectly done. On top of all of that, he was surprised as were all the Councilors that she had experienced Sashpet so late in life and had chosen Captain Flynn as her Mate. Remarkable, really, he could not recall any Hhearnian woman so late in years experiencing Sashpet, the irrep
ressible urge to choose a man and asking him to be her mate.

  “She did well, the Captain is an exceptionally fine choice. I need to set up a luncheon and discuss with her reconsideration of the last two applications for membership.” He thought.

  Beztl-Tor, the Hhearnian industrialist was alarmed when he heard the Zakar Captain had been captured. He didn’t know whether that fool his clan brother, the Ambassador, had disclosed to this inept brother any of the arrangement he had made with the former Senior Councilor Tamn-Kar to finance the attack. This whole messed up plan was supposed to be an inducement to push the Council Finance Department to issue contracts for hull construction on a replacement Seeker ship destroyed earlier. This second, bungled, attack would have applied more pressure to issue stalled construction contacts had it succeeded. Beztl-Tor held the low bid for that job after manipulating the bidding process with bribes. Now he faced the likely premise that the captured Zakar Captain will be put to the ‘truthmed’ and forced to disclose everything he knew about his actions.

  “I will make sure this clumsy idiot does not get to talk.” He turned to his pocketcomm directory and began to peruse his collection of ‘shadow fixers.’ Men with various skills for working within the shadows to make or prevent things from happening, even assassinations. While that was a last resort, it was definitive, and perhaps in this case it was the best.