by Paul Anlee
The monk let out a sigh, a little louder than he meant to. “In that case, please accept the hospitality of the Alumita. We have a number of rooms that, while perhaps humble for one of your station, should prove comfortable during your stay.”
“Thank you, but there is no need to offer me such comforts. I am not an Emissary of your Alumit. I will make camp outside of town,” Darak offered.
Brother Stralasi gasped. “You can’t do that; the non-Standard areas are far too dangerous!”
The small upturn tugging at the corner of Darak’s mouth did not go unnoticed by the Brother.
“I see,” said Stralasi, regarding Darak with a fresh and wary eye. In truth, he didn’t see at all, but his instincts told him this stranger was more than he appeared.
“So, if you are not an Emissary, how did you come here to this planet and this town?”
“There is only one way to travel between the stars, is there not? My method of travel is not fundamentally different from yours.”
The traveler’s calm confidence should have been reassuring. Stralasi found it suspicious and acutely unsettling. “But, sir, all starstep travel is pre-approved, and none is due for a week,” he countered.
“Nevertheless, it is as I have said.”
On the verge of challenging Darak’s outrageous assertions, Brother Stralasi realized the unspoken alternative. Oh! In shock, he pushed his chair back, crumpled to his knees and prostrated himself.
“Forgive me, my Lord!” he cried. “I am your servant, too simple and ignorant! Please, pardon me, and allow the services of our humble frontier town to be at your disposal!” He looked at the other restaurant patrons expectantly but they only stared back blankly, too confused to move.
“Kneel before your Lord and Master!” he cried. “For here before us is a Shard of Alum. His is the voice of The Living God!” The others quickly threw themselves to the floor in supplication, following the Good Brother’s lead.
2
“Okay, I confess.” Darak pushed away from the restaurant table and stood to address the prone figures occupying the floor around him. His face sagged in tired resignation. They’re not going to make this easy for me—he realized but when he opened his mouth, his voice remained gentle and humble.
“Everyone, please, get up. There’s really no need for this. Please,” he assured them.
A dozen bewildered faces searched Brother Stralasi’s face for guidance. Looking up from the floor, the monk ventured a peek at the traveler. A warm, forgiving smile beamed down at him. Reassured, Stralasi unfurled his prone body from the floor. One by one, the others followed his example.
“There, isn’t that better? Now, why don’t we all sit and enjoy our breakfasts, and then you can take me to your lodgings in the Alumita,” he suggested. The room remained perfectly still and silent.
Darak gestured to the monk with open hands, palms up, to reiterate the invitation, and sat down again. He picked up his fork and knife, nodded encouragingly around the room, and dug into what was left of his pancakes and fruit.
The diners took their seats. Hushed conversation and soft clinks of tableware returned, punctuated by cautious glances.
“It is such a blessing to have you in our town,” gushed the instantly more confident Brother Stralasi, revitalized by the sense of security and purpose he drew from regulated decorum and station. “The People will be so excited and honored. That is, if we may speak of your visit?”
Darak looked at the dozen nervous patrons picking at the remains of their breakfasts. “I think it will be difficult not to,” he said.
“But if I may be so bold, my Lord, I do not understand why you are traveling without a formal entourage. It honors us greatly that you see fit to visit our tiny outpost, but it would bring us such joy to praise your Light in a more…formal way.” Brother Stralasi eyed Darak hopefully. His wish to be granted permission for a grand celebration was obvious.
“Sometimes, it is best to mingle with people informally in order to better gauge truth,” was all Darak would say before he resumed eating. Ten minutes later, he pushed back from the table with a satisfied, “Ahhh, that’s better.”
Darak permitted Stralasi to thank Alum for the blessing of breakfast and the two men exited the restaurant, leaving the staff and remaining patrons abuzz. Word of a Shard’s appearance in their humble town had spread rapidly over the InterLat, drawing a small crowd of Alum’s faithful who were hoping to catch a glimpse. The amazed onlookers fell to their knees in unison when Darak appeared on the doorstep.
The informal retinue followed Stralasi and Darak at a respectful distance as the two men made their way through town, drawing the devout and the curious along with them.
“Here we have the Administration, Transportation, and Foundation ceraffices,” Brother Stralasi pointed out as they passed the buildings of bio-ceramic construction along the south arc of the Center Park.
Darak and Stralasi soaked up the verdant peacefulness of the small city. Leaf-covered branches grew from the tops of the living buildings, creating protective shade for the lawns and gardens below. As they walked, the small crowd behind them grew. Eager late-comers trickled out from homes, offices, and side streets.
“No doubt, you will want to see inside the Foundation laboratories,” Brother Stralasi suggested, hoping to tease out some clue as to the purpose of Darak's visit.
“No doubt,” he affirmed.
Exasperated by the gentle but uninformative responses, Brother Stralasi turned his attention to the pleasing site of a gleaming white, five-storey cylinder decorated with an array of strategically placed small windows.
“This is the Foundation ceraffice. It is the busiest site in Alumston and a bastion of industriousness.” They passed easily through the stream of technicians coming and going by floaters.
“Throughout the day, they bring rock, soil, and organisms from all over the continent for analysis, and they return to the wilderness with a fresh supply of materials engineered to help spread the conversion of the planet to Standard Life. I find it gratifying just to stand in their midst.”
Moving along, Stralasi ushered Darak to the main labs comprising the entire second level. The Good Brother stood patiently as the traveler became peculiarly engrossed by the process.
Technicians donned full-length white cotton robes and walked purposefully from the preparation areas to the analyzers, where they inserted various samples into machines that contained neither readouts nor obvious controls. At one of the machines, a technician gently placed a damaged device inside the receptacle and closed its door. Kneeling on soft stools conveniently placed in front of the lab benches, they prayed.
Darak closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of shuffling feet and the murmur of fervent prayers. There was no conversation, nothing more than an occasional nod of recognition shared by coworkers.
He looks sad, or maybe in pain—Stralasi mused, but he wasn’t sure why.
“Do they never grow tired of praying?” Darak asked.
“How could they, my Lord, when every word moves this world along the path of Standardization and implements the Foundation protocol as required?”
“Have they no curiosity about how it all works?”
Stralasi scanned the room, calculating whether any technicians might be within earshot. Surely, the Shard was testing him. He stepped back a few paces so that his hushed response would be less easily overheard. It would certainly not befit a man of his station to be seen tested in front of the technicians and, most especially, to be caught faltering on any level.
“But we know how it works. Alum Himself answers our prayers to convert the indigenous life of this planet to His Standard Life. His miracles cannot possibly be understood by mere mortals, such as us. His wisdom is infinite and ours is minuscule. We pray for His guidance and He provides us with answers, for Alum is Lord,” he recited.
“Yes, of course. Alum is Lord,” Darak agreed half-heartedly. “We should continue on. I don’t wish to int
errupt anyone in their work.”
Downstairs, the troupe of curious and faithful parted to let the two men through. They crossed through Center Park, passed by the First and Second Schools, and came to a stop in front of the glorious Alumita.
“With its tapering concentric layers, shrub-lined balconies, and golden dome, the Alumita is the highest structure along the Park. The residences occupy a detached building about 20 meters from the main ceraffice,” Brother Stralasi reeled off as if reading from a brochure.
Monk and Shard strolled down the adjoining path together, enjoying the sights and fragrances of the colorful flowerbeds. Darak stopped to appreciate an exquisite yellow rose. “Does it ever bother you that the work you do on planets like this completely eradicates the native life that was here before you came?”
“N…No, my Lord,” Brother Stralasi stammered, puzzled by the question. “It is with Alum’s blessing that we spread Standard Life throughout the universe.”
“Have you never wondered...,” Darak paused to search for gentler phrasing. “Have you ever wondered why different kinds of life are so…different?”
“That is for Alum to know, my Lord,” came the confident, rote answer.
Darak reflected on Stralasi's reply, considering how to best proceed in this delicate conversation.
“Tell me, how many planets have you founded in your career?”
“This is the seventh planet I have been blessed to bring to Alum’s Way.”
“And on all of those planets, each with their many different life forms, you have never felt any guilt that you might have been depriving them of the chance to develop intelligent life independently? You know, like Yov permitted The People on Origin to do?”
“But it is written that our intelligence is a gift from Yov to His people.”
“Hmph,” Darak responded.
Stralasi picked up on the unspoken criticism. What did I say wrong? Why are my answers not satisfying him? “I do not know what my Lord would have me say.”
“Come, now. Was not all life, in all its many kinds, created in the universe by Yov?”
“So it is written in The Book of Alum,” Stralasi cupped his hands together in the Sign of Completeness.
“Well, then, why do you think Alum would wish to replace the life we find on other planets with Standard Life?”
There was nothing to say; nothing that would not be considered blasphemous. Stralasi’s heart skipped a beat; he could feel his panic rising. How to answer? Best not. But how to remain silent without insulting the Shard? For the second time that day, he prostrated himself before Darak. “My Lord, I do not know the answers to these questions! Would you have me profane myself before a Shard of Alum? I cannot!”
Darak responded serenely, as a caring father might gently guide his son to a deeper understanding, “I only wondered if, sometime in your many projects, you might have felt some…sympathy for the life lost in the process.”
Brother Stralasi’s eyes grew wide with dawning realization. Though it hardly seemed possible, he bowed even deeper. Was this the real reason for the Shard’s visit?
In anguish, he implored, “Oh Shard of Alum, who sees all and knows all, forgive me. I can have no secrets before you. I confess all! Yes, in my duties as Head Brother to seven Foundings, I have sinned against Alum. On each of the planets I helped Found, I convinced others to build small sanctuaries so we could preserve the local life we found there. I hoped and believed that Alum might one day find a need for life that was not Standard.”
A short but respectful distance away, the crowd overheard the Good Brother’s startling confession. An anxious buzz of shock and disbelief arose. Some onlookers moved farther away for fear of association; others drew closer to better hear the unfolding drama.
Stralasi trembled and wailed, “If this is why you have come here, if my life is the price I must pay for this arrogance, I pray, take it quickly. But do not punish those good people whom I convinced to help me. The blame is mine alone.” His body was overtaken by great sobs. He felt a tender touch on his shoulder.
“Stand up, Brother Stralasi,” Darak soothed. “You will not be punished for your sins today.” He added, a little louder for the crowd’s benefit, “There will be no punishment, for I consider there to be no sin.”
Stralasi stood up tentatively, hardly believing that he still lived. The gaze that greeted him only confused him further. Darak looked happy as he guided him gently by the arm to a nearby bench.
They sat down and Darak continued, his voice hushed but unmistakably excited.
“I had hoped to find one like you among the Founders,” he confessed, “someone with compassion as well as piety. But I could not have dreamed that I would find you so soon upon my return, and so near the Edge. It’s practically miraculous.” He laughed, almost giddy, and shook his head in disbelief.
Brother Stralasi managed to contain his tears long enough to ask gloomily, “What will become of me?”
“I want you to come with me.”
Stralasi was astonished. “Come with you where, my Lord?”
“I will travel to many parts of Alum’s Realm on my journey to Home World. I could use a man of experience in my travels. That is, if you are willing.”
Brother Stralasi couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I am not to be executed?”
“Not while you are with me, at any rate.” Darak’s countenance darkened. “Although, there will be plenty of dangers ahead.”
Stralasi could not imagine what kinds of danger a Shard of Alum might have to confront. The mere idea caused him to shudder.
“I am humbled and deeply grateful that Alum could forgive my disobedience. He is All Wise and Infinitely Loving!” Stralasi’s joy radiated and, again, he threw himself at Darak's feet. “My life is Alum’s! I will serve you, my Lord, as long as you see fit to have me!” He grasped Darak’s right hand and kissed it again and again as the crowd cheered.
“Enough of that,” Darak rebuffed, and helped Stralasi to his feet. The Good Brother was touched to see the look of compassion on Darak’s face.
“We have had enough of fear and praise for one day, I think.” Darak allowed Brother Stralasi a few moments to compose himself, before suggesting, “Why don’t you show me to my lodgings now?” He took Stralasi’s shoulders in his hands and looked compassionately into the Good Brother’s eyes.
“There will be time enough for you to prove yourself along the way. For now, you will need to arrange replacements and promotions, I imagine. We leave tomorrow.”
3
Everything comes from Nothing.
Chaos is the root of Creation.
Everywhere is the Center.
Everything evolves.
Nothing is determined.
There is no Fate.
There is no Plan.
There is no Ultimate Good.
There is no Ultimate Evil.
There only IS, and that is all.
The undulating sea of two hundred thousand curious intoned the opening chant and closed with a collective, self-satisfied sigh.
Princess Darya sighed as well but for entirely different reasons. Tens of millions of years of servitude to Alum and His Plan has discouraged them from thinking beyond what they’ve been told to think. I’d be surprised if more than a few hundred individuals in this whole crowd understood the significance of the words they’ve just uttered.
The worshipers arrived clad in all manner of authentic, exquisitely detailed peasant, artisan, and aristocratic clothing. Outside the Grand Plaza, they went about their hurried, all-consuming lives as administrators, technicians, or engineers. For the most part, they gathered here today to witness the spectacle and ritual, not to gain enlightenment.
Darya cast an appraising eye across the site she’d chosen for today’s dragon battle, and struck what she hoped would look like an imperial-looking posture as she took her seat.
The elegant throne dominated the center of the great polished black granite dais. Carve
d in the likeness of a glorious golden phoenix, it towered a good three meters over her head. Flaming wings pointed skyward, and its twenty-centimeter ruby eyes fiercely scrutinized the enormous square before it. A blue pearl, bigger than Darya’s head, rested in its mouth. The muscular legs, terminating in a pair of finely-honed ivory claws, bracketed the seat that was nestled in what would be the belly of the bird. On her left, a four-meter silver trumpet was poised to emit a piercing call to battle.
A thin, glassy layer of water flowed continuously down the steps from beneath the top of the dais and disappeared into the decorative grate covering the gutter encircling the perimeter.
The cool, weighty formality of a polished marble terrace separated the throne and dais from the larger plaza and gathering crowd.
Behind her, the imposing white stone of the palace keep rose majestically into a cloudless sky. Along the other three sides, smaller quartz towers peeked above formidable walls of green granite. Jade Corinthian columns, ten meters high and topped by an open parapet, decorated the granite walls.
A pair of dazzling diamond strips, four meters wide, arched high above the Grand Plaza at perpendicular angles, intersecting over the center of the square. The smaller of the two connected the lower side walls. The larger one marked the longer path stretching from above the onyx gates at the far end of the square to the pinnacle of the massive keep. The structure was designed to impress.
Outside the walls, a bridge of stepping stones floated freely several meters above the moat and meadow, spanning the distance between the entrance gate and the parking area more than a kilometer away.
Princess Darya embodied the classic fairy tale princess of the Han dynasty. From her throne, she observed the crowd with an air of supreme tranquility and benevolence. Her satiny tresses, black as raven feathers, were gathered in an intricate braid running down her slender back, and her elegant silk robes moved softly in the breeze.
Only scholars of ancient history might frown at the incongruous clash between the Princess and her castle. Such scholars were practically unheard of among her people, dismissed as eccentric hobbyists.
