The Chronicles of Clyde: Unafilliated

by F. E. Arliss

  “Wherever we find the slaver colony, General Apollo has come up with a strategy that he thinks will help us get the inside scoop on what’s going on,” her father confided to her quietly. “I don’t like it. It’s an extremely dangerous plan for you,” he added, pointedly.

  “For me? Why? What do they want me to do?” Arc asked quietly, a little line between her brows the only indication that she wasn’t completely at ease.

  “They want to place you undercover, so to speak, as a buyer to the slaver,” Quirke said with exasperation in his voice.

  “What?” Arc and Birdie gasped in unison. “Holy shit! That’s SO not good. Dangerous as hell. I could get killed! What makes him think this will work? I’m not an ldolum or an Arachnian!” she practically shouted at her father.

  “It seems he believes that you have the grit and determination to carry off being an Idolum queen,” her father said flatly. “At least long enough for us to get into position and take out those controlling the site. That is, of course, if the transmitter works that will be installed on your person,” he added doubtfully.

  “Then there’s the problem of you passing as an Idolum queen. You’re gonna’ like that even less. I’m not too keen on it myself, but I’m going to leave it to Queen Altum Juls to explain to you. It will change all our lives, so it’s important that you understand it thoroughly,” he added grimly.

  Arc groaned. “Let’s think it over and have a more in-depth look at this plan. We’ve got some time before they find the outpost. Maybe as much as a week. We’ll surely come up with something that will help this work out better,” she muttered.

  Chapter Twenty

  Idolum Intervention

  As it turned out, there was something that was going to make the whole thing easier. As weird as it sounded, it was the queen pool aboard the Centurion.

  General Monsav’s queen had been killed with no successor. Her remains had been kept and immersed in the Centurion’s queen pool for decades in the hope of someday being absorbed into a new queen. Just thinking about it gave Arc the willies.

  That was how plain old Jullian Arban had become Queen Altum Juls, Arc reminded herself. Ok, so Jullian had had some really-serious kick-ass energy about her that she’d had since childhood, but Arc had nothing like that. Just common sense and some pretty awesome fighting techniques. And a prosthetic, super-strong hand, she added to her list of attributes.

  General Apollo’s plan was that Arc would become an Idolum female by laying in the queen pool aboard the Centurion. Her already well-developed physique and positive experiences with ‘the helmet’ that had downloaded the Idolum history and language into her brain had shown that she had the right scrap of genetic code to be accepted by the pool. Her lack of any talent with energy might not make her a candidate for becoming a true Idolum queen, but her genetic code would allow her mind and body to absorb many of the traits of an Idolum queen.

  Arc had to laugh. General Monsav had been a wily old goat, getting her to sit under the helmet and not saying a word about the fact that it could have made her seriously ill instead of just giving her a headache for an hour each day.

  She’d loved the learning experience about the Idolum however, so she guessed she’d forgive him. On the other hand, this also set her up for this gawd-awful plan. So maybe she wasn’t in a forgiving mood after all.

  Over a long afternoon of talks, Queen Altum Juls came to Renegar aboard her ship Talio and, asking Arc to join her in her quarters, showed her the queen pool that had changed her life.

  As much as Arc liked Queen Altum Juls, the slimy looking green pool repulsed her. The Queen laughed at Arc’s expression as she gazed at the pool. “I know! I thought the same thing. Slimy, disgusting looking thing. Little did I know the gifts of this broth,” she said, gesturing at the green liquid. “It will transform you. Your appearance will change slightly, though not as much as if you were pure Idolum. What is important, though, is that you will have all the information of the previous queens of Monsav’s nest down through the millennia. Far more detailed in scope than anything you will be able to recall from the helmet,” she added firmly.

  She continued on, “Your hair may become white-blonde as mine is. Your eyes may change color from their current blue to an amber or orange color. You will become taller and even more muscular. You might, as do many queens, acquire a special skill, such as telepathy or telekinesis. So, there are many things to consider,” the Queen said, looking at Arc searchingly over her shoulder.

  “On the one hand, it will help capture these slavers. That is the short-term view. In the long term, we do not know to what extent the pool will change you. With that comes huge responsibility to General Monsav’s nest. By absorbing much of the information in the pool, you will be taking the opportunity from them to ever have another Queen. The General has spoken with his nest and they agree that they are happy to follow me as their Queen through all time,” she added regally.

  “In return, you must honor their sacrifice,” Queen Altum Juls stated calmly. “That means that when a time comes where you must choose whether to fight for them, you must choose to do so. It’s rather like being a Quirke. Family first. And the nest of General Monsav will become family to you.”

  At Arc’s dazed expression, she bade one of her mites, Dent was his name Arc believed, to bring them some type of beverage and food. Arc supposed wryly that it was to help her revive her wits because they certainly felt addled at this point.

  “I need to talk this over with my family,” Arc murmured quietly. “I hope you’ll excuse me to think and discuss this with them,” she added as she set down the cup and small plate that had held what she believed might have been a cucumber sandwich and some type of tea. They’d obviously been fine, as she’d consumed both without a thought, so distracted was she by the current predicament.

  “Of course,” Queen Altum Juls said softly. “If you have any questions, please come to me at once. You are not alone in this. Making the transformation was the best thing that ever happened to me. You may not feel the same as I, so it is imperative that you understand your obligations and the responsibilities that you’ll be taking on,” she added, a glint of understanding showing in her regal face. “You will not be a queen, but you will have gifts.”

  “I’m not going to be eight-feet tall, right?” Arc asked dazedly. Queen Altum Juls laughed, “No, dear, probably around six feet. It’s only after an Osmirian transformation that you become quite as tall as this,” she said with a smile, gesticulating at her hugely tall body. “On the other hand, six feet with improved strength and a deep understanding of life and history, is just enough to handle almost everything that life throws at one!” she exclaimed with a grin. “You will be very hard to kill after the transformation.”

  That night Arc sat in her quarters on Clyde and explained the situation in detail to Dag and Birdie.

  She’d already had a long talk with her dad. He’d been reluctant about the change but could see the positive side as well. Arc had explained to him about the fact that Clyde could come and go from the Centurion as a base at will. Arc would be part of the nest, so her family would be too.

  Birdie was having her nails painted a brilliant magenta by Dag. After Arc’s long and very detailed explanation, both beauty treatment participants merely sat back and stared at her as though she’d lost her mind.

  “Hey,” Arc said, shoving her palms straight out in front of her, “this was not my plan. This is the plan of ‘his high and mightiness’, General Apollo -- who didn’t even have the decency to run it by me before floating it to everyone else.”

  Dag snapped his gaping jaw shut and said, “Well, super-powers would be nice,” in a doubtful voice.

  “Yeah, but you don’t know what you’re going to get, if anything. It might be something totally stupid like...like being able to fart silently, or some such ridiculousness,” Arc grumbled, smiling slightly.

  “What if it was flying,” Birdie said, wonder lacing her voice. “Wh
at if you could fly? Now that might be worth it,” she nodded emphatically. “Yes, that would definitely be worth it.”

  “Well, what if it’s reading minds?” Arc asked. “Would that be good or bad?” she asked exasperatedly. “Do you see what I mean? It might be good if it helps. And it might be awful if my brain is always full of what other people are thinking.”

  Birdie nodded, “Because you know it’s always gonna be awful stuff,” she added with a maturity way beyond her years. “Most people are total crap.” Dag acknowledged that with a sage nod of agreement.

  “It would help catch the slavers,” Arc said. “It would improve my health, longevity and overall intelligence. On the other hand, it would make me not totally human anymore. Also, the Clyde could work from the Centurion if we wanted. It would be nice to have a floating base,” she added. “And Valoria would be our home world.”

  A long silence followed.

  “Changing species isn’t always bad,” Birdie said slowly. “I was born Vanguardian, but I’m a Quirke now. That’s a much better species,” she added earnestly. Arc and Dag laughed.

  “Quirke is certainly a different species,” Dag agreed, grinning. “I really liked Valoria, too. What does the Commander think about it all?”

  “You know the Commander. All he says is that he’s my dad no matter what species I am and that he’s sure Birdie will feel the same, as will the crew. It’s not very helpful when trying to come to a decision,” Arc huffed grumpily.

  With a deep sigh, she heaved herself off the bunk. “I suppose if I don’t do it, I’ll always feel guilty about the people I could have helped,” Arc said slowly. “I know there will be times when I wish I didn’t do it. But I think I have to, as long as you two swear to love me still.”

  Birdie bounced up and into her arms. “You loved me even though I was a flawed Vanguardian. Now I’m a perfect Quirke. Just remember, you’re not an Idolum. You’re a Quirke Idolum, sorta,” she added, her narrow face serious.

  Dag shrugged and looked at Arc, “That’s probably the best advice I’ve heard so far about this whole mess. I think if you do it, you need to make that clear. Quirke, first. Idolum, second. If they don’t like it, they can lump it,” he added, grinning. “Then they’ll have to make the decision.”

  Arc grinned. “Thank you both. That certainly did help me get my priorities in order.” Sobering, she said, “I hope when I see you both again, we will remain as close as we are now.” Hugging them each in turn, she left her quarters on the Clyde and went to find her father.

  Within the next thirty-six hours, Arc’s entire life changed completely, just as it had when she was twelve and fled her family’s compound to seek her grandmother Olivia.

  First, the Centurion confirmed that the asteroid prison Alcatraz was not the holding facility for the slaves. It appeared that the Intergalactic Guard hadn’t been corrupted into using their prisoners as slaves. Although tracking drones had noticed several unidentified transports leaving the prison at odd hours that were not on posted manifests.

  The alliance agreed that there were probably a couple of crooked guards who supplied prisoners to the slave ring.

  A few hours later, the Labrys reported that one of the moons that Sasha Kelty had given them the coordinates for did appear to have a slave colony active on its surface.

  When the surveillance vids came in from the Labrys a hush of astonishment fell over the group watching the feeds. It was enormous. There were hundreds of people in each settlement, and there were many settlements. Each watched over by a small contingent of Arachnian guards.

  The people in each settlement were gardening and herding small groups of animals in order to sustain themselves. Any time one of the colonists, for that was what they were -- prisoners forming working colonies, tried to break free from a certain area, something would detonate on their bodies and they were killed instantly.

  It only happened once on the vid-feed as a man tried to save his daughter from being hauled off as a snack by one of the Arachnian keepers. The miserable man ran after the departing rover screaming, arms outstretched as he tried to catch the back of the departing vehicle. In an instant, he vaporized to nothing but a pink mist as the rover disappeared over a rise in the landscape.

  Silently, the other colonists turned back to their work and plodded onwards, seemingly unmoved by their comrade’s plight. Only one woman staggered in place, then fell to the ground weeping. Everyone ignored her.

  “Dear God, it’s disgusting. It’s evil! We have to stop these people. Whoever they are,” Queen Altum Juls snapped, the air around her crackling with power and energy at the swell in her emotions. Turning to Arc, she pinned her with her amber gaze.

  “I’ll do it,” Arc agreed. “We’ve got to do something. There’s just something that you all need to be clear on before we proceed,” she added firmly.

  “I’ll become part Idolum, but it needs to be clear to everyone that I’m a Quirke first, then I’m an Idolum. Is that clear?” she asked, looking each member of the Alliance in the eyes. “Ewan Quirke is my father. Birdie Quirke is my sister. Dag, Coates and Cole are my brothers-in-arms. They will always be my family. Don’t ask me to change that. Ever!” Arc stated firmly.

  “Loyalty such as yours is admirable, First Mate Quirke,” Queen Altum Juls stated serenely. “I will honor your Quirke family, and agree.”

  The Centurion, having fold-space technology jumped straight back to Renegar after completing their surveillance of Alcatraz, which allowed General Monsav to participate in the meeting. Seeing as how she’d be getting the knowledge about his queen and about his nest, his agreement was paramount.

  “I agree,” stated General Monsav quietly. “I will be very honored to have a Quirke aboard the Centurion, as well as an Idolum Princess once again. I also find your loyalty commendable.”

  Arc turned to General Monsav and said, “I will do my utmost to protect and uphold your nest’s goals, prosperity and safety, General. That is what I swear to you,” Arc replied seriously, her face a pale, grave mask.

  “Thank you. We are honored,” the General said, bowing to her formally from the waist.

  Within minutes Arc had hugged her father, who left her with the departing whisper, “I can’t wait to tell Dag and Birdie yer gonna be a princess,” he’d added with a wink. “It’ll make Dag green with envy and send Birdie into raptures.”

  With a wooden attempt at a smile to her dad, Arc followed Queen Altum Juls into the queen’s quarters aboard the Centurion. “I never asked you what General Monsav’s queen’s name was,” Arc said seriously. “I hope it’s not some gawd-awful name like Dorothea or Martha,” she added hopefully.

  Queen Altum Juls laughed. “No, you’re pretty lucky there, as was I. The General’s queen’s name was Exousia. So, I believe you will be something like Princess Arc Exousia Quirke. A very regal sounding name, I believe,” she added with a grin to Arc.

  “Not bad,” Arc agreed. “I think Exousia meant something like ‘power’ in the Greek language. So, I hope that means my gift will be something a great deal better than farting silently,” she added, before she realized she’d said it out loud. “If I even get one,” she amended lamely.

  Queen Altum Juls threw back her head and laughed the first whole body laugh that Arc had ever seen from her. Wiping her eyes, Queen Altum Juls said, “Oh my, I do miss the human sense of humor sometimes. I hope it’s a better gift than that as well.”

  Over the next few minutes she explained to Arc what was required of her. When Arc realized that she had to basically drown herself in the horrible green slime with brown scum floating on the top, she almost lost her nerve.

  Having Queen Altum Juls tell her that she’d thought her pool even more disgusting looking since it had sat unmoved for almost nine thousand years, Arc decided she should quit being such a big baby. This one had only sat moldering for around a hundred years. It couldn’t be as bad as Juls’ pond scum had been.

  Grumbling, she lowered her naked for
m into the slime, pleased to find that it felt far better than it looked. It seemed to warm to her touch and some of the viscous fluid began to make the tiny tendrils that usually comforted her in her moss-covered bed.

  Slowly, lowering herself until she was submerged up to her neck, Arc leaned back against the edge of the pool. Queen Altum Juls leaned down and stroked her hair. “It will all be fine, Arc. I will be here waiting when you emerge. Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt, it’s just a little frightening and disconcerting. Be brave,” she whispered, then with a last caress to Arc’s brow, she turned and left the room.

  Well, Arc thought, it’s not going to get any easier. With that thought she sank to the bottom of the pool, consciously breathing in and gulping down the green liquid. The pool, only a meter or so deep a few seconds earlier, now seemed bottomless. Looking up as she drifted down, Arc could see the light slowly leaving the pool. At last, eyes closed, she rested unconscious at the bottom.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Princess Arc Exousia Quirke