Princess Grace of Earth

by A K Lambert

  Kean knew that two-thirds of the known wormholes were too small for a vessel the size of a Cruiser, whereas a sphere could navigate most of them. His father would have a longer, more convoluted route to wherever their destination was.

  A few days later, and Kean was in a small anteroom waiting to be briefed by the Supreme Commander.

  When summoned to the meeting, he wasn’t surprised to see his father there, next to Zander. They had become friends eleven years ago when Zander had first taken the top job, a surprising appointment from the Northern Trun Military. It had coincided with his parents breakup, so his father diverted all his energy and skill into helping this young man succeed. Mancer was whispering something into Zander’s ear, and he was nodding.

  There were three others around the table. One was Commander Hallot, the other two, Kean assumed, were his companions for the trip to Earth.

  Zander looked up to start the proceedings, his dark eyes giving nothing about his mood away.

  ‘I will go around the table and introduce you all.’ He looked to his left, past Mancer, to a small man in his early thirties. His mousy head cap was unusual for a Trun, they mostly had black caps that complimented their blue skin tone. The man scanned the table and nodded in acknowledgement. ‘This is Sub Commander Blomquist Tray, the pilot of this expedition. I will brief Tray separately, but for now, he is to get you to Earth.’ Zander looked in the direction of Kean and at the woman next to him. ‘He will land you in the southern part of this country,’ he pointed at a projected image of a map. ‘Once he has helped with settling you both in, he will return to a concealed orbit around the planet. We have some other jobs for him to do, but he will be there to relay your reports back to Preenasette, and liaise with Commander Mancer when he eventually arrives.’

  He moved his penetrating gaze to Kean, who couldn’t help wincing slightly under the scrutiny. ‘This is Kean DeMancer of the Reticent Guard. He will make friends with one of the two human juveniles known to be associates of the Princess. A Jon O’Malley.’ He was looking at notes. ‘He is of a similar age and has a passion for bicycle riding, as do you. That will be the common interest to get you close to the Earth boy.’

  Without hesitation, Zander moved his gaze to the woman on Kean’s left. ‘This is Amir Sonia.’ She was in her late twenties and had a serious expression. Kean was disappointed. He wasn’t exactly hoping for romance during the journey, but a bit of flirting on the way would have been fun. ‘Sonia will be tasked with seeking out the female, Amanda Walker.’

  Finally, he nodded at the military man. ‘This is Commander Hallot. He will be coordinating the whole expedition and will report directly to me.’ It was evident there was a certain coolness hanging between these two men. From his RG training, Kean was picking this up in abundance.

  Zander went on, ‘You have, no doubt, read the extensive notes sent by our operative in the Vercetian Life Team on Earth. Firstly, you will make no attempt to contact this agent. You will find all traces of his identity erased from the notes. Secondly, you are to be in a position to direct Commander Mancer’s forces straight to the princess’s location upon his arrival.’ Zander paused for a moment and then continued, ‘Be warned. There is extensive security around the Royal after an assassination attempt,’

  ‘You leave in three days time. Read the notes and get yourself prepared.’

  Kean and Sonia exited the room, leaving Zander, Mancer and Hallot to brief Tray.

  ‘You are to report directly to Commander Hallot,’ said Zander. ‘Particularly regarding any unusual activity by Sonia. We know little about her. She comes highly recommended by the office of Premier Gor. But we do not understand their interest in this mission.’

  Mancer picked up the thread. ‘Log all of her communications and make sure everything goes through Commander Hallot, who will keep the Supreme Commander abreast of any developments.’

  Hallot finished with, ‘You are the eyes and ears of this mission. It mustn’t fail. Commander Mancer needs to have immediate access to the princess when he arrives on Earth.’

  ‘Any questions?’ asked Zander of Tray. ‘No? Then you are dismissed. Commander Hallot, please escort the Sub Commander out.’

  When they were alone, Zander said, ‘Your plan to flush out Hallot is in place. Tray’s a good man. He’ll monitor them both and hopefully find something to tie him to the subterfuge going on here.’ He lightened the conversation somewhat, asking Mancer about the makeup of the task force he would be taking.

  ‘A full ground squadron comprising thirty soldiers, four mechanoids, and a standard support, surveillance and maintenance crew of fifteen,’ said Mancer. ‘A TW Sphere for the return journey and Four 3W Fighters should ensure enough firepower to overpower the Life Team and fend off any interference from the inhabitants of Earth. They are about three hundred technological years behind us.’

  Zander had pulled up a 3D map showing the route between their star system and Sol. ‘You will need to cross the waste space between the galaxy’s inner and outer spiral arms.’ Zander stopped to think. ‘That would require an additional two years in cryogenic stasis. Someone is not making this easy for you.’

  Mancer’s look said it all.

  Chapter 22

  Grace’s Training

  Earth - The Republic of Ireland - 2009

  * * *

  Moving slowly.

  Breeze is light. But wrong direction. Fragrance everywhere, little critters, flowers and insects. Forest coming alive after cold time. My fur dances as wind touches it. All normal, though. Can’t smell mistress or boy.

  Noises fantastically tangled. Wind past my ears, buzzing insects avoid me at last moment, birds in trees are excited and chirping as they chase each other—they see me before I see them. The ground creaks slightly as I pad along, little slimy things croaking and shuffling away. All normal and all filtered out. I hear the sounds a long way away. What is different? What is out of place? Nothing. Can’t hear mistress or boy.

  I want to play-fight boy. My favourite game. But mistress said today is a different game. Find mistress. Find boy. Can’t hear in mistress’s head, she has closed it. Will make a big circle, then wind will help.

  I see everything now. Scurrying critters, swaying plants and buzzing insects, the sunlight carving its way through the trees and bushes to get to the ground. All normal, all filtered out. I see a long way, past all these things to a patchwork of remaining light. What is different? What is out of place? Nothing. Can’t see mistress or boy.

  I start to run.

  Not as fast as when with boy on his machine. That is fun. No. Fast, but can still see, hear and smell everything. Sensations fly at me from everywhere. I breathe it all in. Fantastic. Then filter it. What is different? What is out of place?

  Something...

  I stop. A smell. So very brief. The boy?

  Nose up high, I find it again. Easy now. Follow the line of smell straight to boy. It’s getting stronger. Boy is close.

  Smell has gone, find it again. Can’t. Mistress is helping boy. They must be close.

  I move slowly onwards, filtering, filtering. I stand dead still, waiting, waiting.

  Something there. Or, something not there. A space with no smells or sounds coming from it. Get closer. See it now, things are moving differently around it. One of mistress’s bubbles. Push my nose through. It is boy. He scratches behind my ears. Lovely, but must find mistress. Boy runs off. I filter him out.

  “Krankel.”

  “Mistress?”

  “Find me.”

  I feel her. I know where she is, excited to find her. I arrive, but she’s gone.

  “Mistress?”

  “Find me.”

  She’s over there now. I race to her. She’s not there.

  “Mistress!”

  “Find me, Krankel.”

  She’s moved again. I will find her. She’s not there again.

  “Last chance, find me.”

  I stop. Ignore mistress. I sniff and listen
and look.

  “Krankel.”

  Ignore. Sniff, listen and look.

  “Krankel!”

  Got mistress. Hiding in bubble. I leap over to her, burst through bubble and she hugs me.

  “Good boy Krankel, good boy.”

  ‘You did well yesterday, Tauriar.’ Prime was giving the Princess some final instructions as he always liked to do before her quarterly practical skills assessment. ‘You masked your bubble location and fooled Krankel. But today is a whole different level of testing. Campazee has worked for weeks on this. When you enter the Blue Room, you are on your own and will be acting in real-life conditions. All of the skills you have learnt so far will be needed to get you through this test. Your training has been thorough. Meditate here, and when you’re ready, enter the Blue Room. Impress me, Princess.’

  Grace entered the room, and stood there silently in the centre, legs slightly apart and knees bent. Adopting the Shanjah position: arms out, elbows straight, palms together.

  Katie was adjusting some controls in the corner of the room. ‘The challenge will start soon.’ She left, leaving the door slightly ajar. Grace assumed Douglas and some of the others would be in the viewing area. Krankel was in one corner of the room, curled up and fast asleep, his mind closed to her. Katie’s work, probably.

  Two figures entered the room via the same door but closed it this time. They were dressed head to foot in blue holo-suits. Grace tried to probe to see who they were, but they were masking their identities. From their body shapes and posture, she suspected that it was William and Katie. They moved silently to opposing corners, squatted and remained perfectly still.

  Grace automatically shifted her weight to be able to react to either of them, though doubted they would come into play before the scene was set. She calmed herself. Retreated into her mind to respond from there, rather than relying on her physical senses.

  The banks of blue holo screens that covered every surface of what was once the staff dining quarters in the grandeur of the Hall’s past, blinked on as the programme began loading. The blue screens resolved into a scene of an Avaska field, right on the edge of a small oasis. Soon there was unfathomable depth to the holo-room. Rippling bright green grass of the Avaska seed could be seen stretching off to the distant horizon.

  Grace felt exposed. She was in the open, and the long grass would restrict her movement. On the other hand, the lush foliage of would provide cover, but who knew what surprises Katie might have hidden in there? She probed for Krankel—nothing. His undefined role was destined for later.

  The open field of grass would be better, and she looked around to see how she could manipulate the environment to her favour.

  She crouched down, obscuring herself, and concentrated on making a cylindrical air pressure node. She increased the pressure from twenty atmospheres to forty, then sixty. Eventually, it was heavy enough for her purpose. She guided it away from herself in an ever widening circle, flattening the grass. Firmer footing for whatever might follow. She was pleased with how quickly she finished the pressure node. It was one of her favoured mental tools and would no doubt be important today.

  She waited patiently. After a couple of minutes, her mind wandered back to her early days on Earth with Jon and Mandy. She had tried one of her pressure nodes on Jon, but it ruptured, making a noise that had him in hysterics. She remembered Mandy saying, ‘So, to become just one of four members of a ruling council that presides over an advanced, highly enlightened civilisation, you have to know how to make a whoopee cushion?’

  Concentrate, Tauriar, she reminded herself and awaited the challenge.

  Moments later, a Karinja She warrior stepped brazenly out of the bushes surrounding the oasis, and stared at Grace defiantly. Part of a caste of dynasty warriors from Verceti’s history over two millennia earlier, these warriors were famed for their tenacity and fighting skills. Much of Grace’s defensive training today was based on the martial arts of this era and mainly these fighters.

  She was tall—just like Katie—and was a menacing scarlet colour, the result of intricate red tattooing all over her body. Her head cap was painted bright red, showing her status as a master. She held an ornate fighting staff in her right hand and wore a short Karin blade tucked in her belt.

  Grace knew Katie had a passion for this era, it and was certainly the holo-matrix template for this opponent. But she mustn’t think of her as Katie. This warrior would have programmed skill levels well above that of her colleague.

  A staff appeared on the ground next to Grace. A test of her fighting ability. The longer she could survive without using her modern day powers, the more impressive her performance would be.

  The She warrior waded through the grass until she reached the clearing. Now holding the staff in both hands she assumed an aggressive pose. Grace, staff in hand, moved into the centre of the clearing and prepared to defend. The warrior leapt forward, staff swinging high and coming down vertically at Grace. She defended, moving to the side and deflecting the blow. The warrior would be programmed at a level similar to Grace’s, so she was confident enough to return the attack, trying to catch her opponent’s body. The warrior was too quick and in the space of an instant, opened an offensive, making Grace move decidedly quicker.

  The pace of the confrontation evened out. It had a cat and mouse feel about it: each testing the other. Grace was now feeling confident in her ability to keep the She warrior at bay. But this was a test of all her skills, and she was bracing herself for more.

  That something more came in the form of a swarm of Gorotti birds flying out of the centre of the oasis and gathering to attack her. In Verceti nature, these small birds would flock to fend off predators wanting to steal their eggs, diving at them with sharp beaks, sacrificial darts that rarely failed to deter their target. Here, though, they were larger and looked mechanical—much more menacing.

  Grace was now threatened on two fronts, but as soon as the birds commenced their attack, the warrior began to fade away. She needed time to assess this new threat, twenty or so flying darts would need an ingenious solution. A time acceleration bubble would give her that solution.

  She focused on a wafer thin layer of air around herself and accelerated the sine wave magnitude of the protons surrounding the layer atoms. This changed their natural frequency, and being proportional to time, slowed time within the bubble. She would have about thirty to forty seconds before the bubble failed. The psychic power required to hold this state increased exponentially. The Gorotti birds slowed to a near dead stop.

  Twenty-two of them, breaking apart into two distinct groups. An attack from two sides.

  Think Tauriar, think!

  She moved quickly to one side so that when she reappeared in normal time, both flocks would be in the same plane when turning towards her. The mechanical birds started turning slowly, their sensors still picking up Grace’s rapid movement. Grace formed a large wedge-shaped air pressure node, ready to deploy the moment she was back in normal time. She burst the bubble and deployed the wedge, deflecting most of the higher birds down towards the lower ones, causing multiple collisions. About half of them were taken out, but the remainder were still making a beeline for her.

  Her last resort was to make a shield node to protect herself, but time and her skill were deserting her. The barrier lacked pressure and only managed to stop about eight of them before crumbling away. She braced herself for some holographic pain as the remaining three Gorotti birds hit her.

  The birds faded away, and so did the pain. Grace picked herself up and dusted herself off. She nearly cursed, but that wouldn’t have gone down well. Princesses of any kind don’t curse.

  She was struggling to think what else she could have done what she might have missed—but nothing came to mind.

  Get with it—the next challenge will be any time now.

  Krankel padded out of the Oasis, his mind still closed to her. He looked up at her, barked once, and turned, heading back into the shrubs. Grace follow
ed him.

  They made their way along tracks through the oasis perimeter—a dense growth of olive green privet with lightly scented white flowers. After about twenty feet, the environment opened up, revealing an array of exotic flowers and small bushes, all indigenous to Grace’s home world. She recognised most of them, well aware of the dangers lurking within the radiant beauty. The lush plant life started thinning out as they approached the oasis itself, the density of the foliage now replaced with dark maroon slate shingle. The slate rocks increased in size as they drew closer to the water’s edge, strewn with larger rocks, some semi-submerged in the bright blue water. The oasis was about forty feet in diameter with a small geyser that surged intermittently.

  Krankel stepped up onto a large, partly submerged rock and lay down—head up and attentive, looking at the other side of the water. During the next eruption, an apparition appeared in the middle of the spray. An eight-legged octopod, an amusing looking sea creature from her home world.

  Its strange blue eyes stared directly at Grace as it fanned its tentacles away from its body. From a tentacle tip, a data thought imprint appeared. She knew immediately this was a test of her targeted mental training, for when she became eldest Royal and joined the Ruling Council members in the Q2PV Collective. She was struggling with this. She was able to identify and recognise the thought imprints and get hold of them, but unable to apply sufficient momentum to despatch them forward.

  To her right a rift appeared, a small wormhole at treetop level. In the Collective, one member would assume the role of the Channel and transfer data imprints along this conduit, sometimes light years away, even spanning galaxies. But if they didn’t receive them with sufficient momentum, their chances of forwarding them on would be minimal.

  Now three tentacles blossomed data imprints at their tips, each a different shade of green. The darker the colour, the stronger the impression of the thought. An expert would capture and transfer all of them. Grace needed to concentrate on the darker ones first.