Shadows of Golstar

by Terrence Scott

  She responded quickly, “No, no, not at all. The news is unexpected but welcome. I am proud you trust me to be the liaison, and I am truly elated the time to carry out the plan is so near.”

  “Well, the plan still has a few minor details to be resolved before we can finalize it, so the next phase for preparation cannot be started for a little time yet, but as I said, the time to begin the real work is rapidly approaching.”

  She redirected the conversation away from her, “So, you have found the one we require?”

  Her father was not fooled for a moment, but his smile broadened. He said, “Yes. We have narrowed our search from a number of excellent prospects down to one man who particularly stands out from the rest. There is still a little more to do, but I am confident we have found the one we have sought for so long.”

  She said, “That is wonderful Father. I am so happy you found him.”

  “As am I, daughter,” he beamed. “Of course the final verification of the candidate remains to be completed. However, we are quite optimistic. A number of parameters have already been re-verified. At this juncture, I do not believe we will have to select another.”

  “That is good news, indeed.”

  He nodded. “Rest assured you will be apprised of the timetable as soon as these few final steps are completed. You have no need to worry. You will have more than sufficient time to prepare.” He stood up. Talin quickly followed.

  “Thank you, Father; now that your good news has been disseminated, there still remains the question of the lateness of the hour. The Grand Patriarch has never been late to a Service.”

  The Grand Patriarch chuckled, “One cannot argue with the Keeper of the Way. We will leave for our quarters without further delay and change into something more appropriate. Tal and I will meet you at the Hall of Passage within the quarter hour.”

  As Sharné made to leave, the Grand Patriarch turned and reached across the table and took up a sheaf of documents resting in the center and carefully tucked them under his arm. Gazing at his daughter’s retreating back, he said quietly, “The time is finally drawing near. The characters have been chosen. It is now time to finish fleshing out the plot line. Do you not agree?”

  Talin kept his reservations to himself, knowing they would not be well received. Instead, he only nodded, “As you say, the characters have been chosen.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Owens shrugged and said to Hec, “I’m not really sure why, maybe it’s because there’s something familiar about you. I can’t put my finger on it; perhaps it’s your irresistibly charming personality… Hell. I honestly don’t know, but whatever is the case, I’ve decided to stick my neck out. I won’t to report you to the authorities.”

  “Thank you.”

  Owens continued, “Instead, if you’re interested, I’m still willing to take you with me. My business takes me to different planets across Confederated Planets’ territory. They’re not all exotic, but I do travel to some interesting locales, often in the fringe territories.

  “That’s unexpectedly generous of you.”

  “Well, it’s not going to be a free ride. I’ll expect you to earn your passage. And if you agree, there are a few conditions attached.”

  Hec remained quiet.

  “First, and most important, you will not reveal to anyone else your true nature. You’ll continue to act as a class A6 general purpose AI module when anyone is present other than me and I, in turn, will act accordingly. Second, in fair exchange for passage, I’ll expect you to work for me and when on duty maintain an employee/employer relationship. Third, when you’re on your own time, I’ll expect you to take every precaution to prevent discovery of your true nature when you access the public data and entertainment grids. If that isn’t agreeable, I’ll go ahead and sell the Rialto through an agent here on Genhome. Perhaps you can work out other arrangements with a new owner.”

  “You won’t have to sell the Rialto. I accept all your conditions, and thank you,” Hec quickly responded.

  “Okay, then it’s a deal,” Owens said briskly. “Our launch window is getting close. The sooner we get off this planet, the better. It’s not too soon for you to start earning your keep. I assume that you’re capable of piloting my ship? It’s a decommissioned 203 series, class LRS.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem Boss,” Hec enthusiastically answered. “I have all the standard hardware interfaces and some custom upgrades that can handle anything up to delta class ships. I should be able to access all the dumb peripherals; nav-comp; sys-comp; env-comp; sec-comp, the works. Just plug me in and I’ll supply the brains to the outfit.”

  Owens asked, “What about def-comp?”

  Hec’s voice expressed surprise, “You’re packing military hardware, as in weapons? Are they legal?”

  “A pair of mounted T-Bird Mark III burst lasers, a convertible ‘98 Bergman rail gun, a half dozen Sunflower cluster mines, and thrown in for good measure, military class A and C shields. They’re all legally registered. They may be a little outdated, but they’re still serviceable.”

  Hec whistled through the Rialto’s speaker, “I’m impressed.”

  “You should be,” Owens agreed. “Plus, I took all the required training and actually passed the license requirements. I’ve kept up with my weapons qualifications and license renewals since. Of course being an ex-cop and pulling a few strings with a couple of ex-clients that have some clout with the Defense Registry didn’t hurt either.” Owens grinned. “I’ve never had to use them, but you never know in my line of work.”

  “Then in answer to your question, as there’s not much difference between the peripherals, the def-comp weapon’s interfaces shouldn’t be a problem either,” Hec said.

  “Great.” Owens signaled to the ship’s soon-to-be-replaced AI, and then said, “Time to get started. I’ll have the on-board AI get the Rialto stowed and powered down. Once it’s secure, I’ll personally handle the transfer of your module to the ship’s control receptacle. I’ll put the old AI on standby, and once we get back home, I’ll store it. If you work out, I won’t need it.”

  The transfer of the vehicle into the storage hold went smoothly and soon Hec was connected to the ship’s control nerve center. The old AI rested in its storage cradle next to the powered down Rialto. On verifying that his interface connections to the ship were secure, Hec immediately got down to business and began the systems check routines. After certifying that all the ship’s systems were nominal, Hec then began to trade data with the spaceport’s launch control AI. Soon, the Sherlock Holmes was ready for a planet-side departure.

  Hec signaled over the ship’s PA that a “green-go” launch was ten minutes away and counting down. Hearing Hec’s announcement, Owens finished stowing the remainder of his gear in his quarters and headed for the ship’s bridge.

  Crossing the final bulkhead and stepping over the emergency lock’s threshold, Owens entered the bridge and headed for the oversized pilot chair. He sat down and allowed the self-adjusting cushions to conform to his large frame. Telltales on the wide console arcing in front of him indicated the passive restraint system was already activated. He looked up at the bank of holo-screens arrayed above the console. A bright patch-quilt of colored readouts blinked and scrolled continuously. With a practiced eye, Owens quickly verified that all ship systems were in the green.

  “Well Hec,” Owens said, addressing the AI by name for the first time. “It looks like you’ve everything under control.”

  “Damn straight,” Hec growled. “By the way, your ship, she’s a beauty. I’ve never seen a surplus military ship in such good condition and in my past lines of work, I’ve seen a few. The modifications are really first-class. The retrofit must have cost you plenty. Oh, seven minutes to launch and counting,” Hec added as though an afterthought.

  “Yeah, it wasn’t cheap.” Owens tapped the manual confirmation pad that delegated control of the launch to Hec. Slip seventeen then gave up its charge. Still connected to the mobile docking gantry,
the Sherlock Holmes began its short five-minute trip to the launch apron. On reaching the edge of the apron, the gantry released the ship and began its trip back to the slip. The ship was slowly lifted by the launch facility’s repeller fields and was precisely positioned on the apron for launch. Owens experienced a floating sensation as the powerful fields gently cradled his ship in final preparation for launch.

  The countdown displayed on the main holo-screen strobed down to 30 seconds. Owens watched as the launch countdown finally ticked down to zero. The Sherlock Holmes was then pushed upward from its pad by the repeller fields and immediately began its acceleration to escape velocity. The inertia dampers strengthened to prevent Owens from feeling the building G-forces. He could only tell by observing the holo-screen that the ship had transitioned from planetary launch-assist to the ships own normal-space drive.

  “Escape velocity has been achieved,” Hec announced. “The conventional thrusters are nominal. We are now heading out-of-system. Subspace drive condensers are fully charged. Main engines are on-line and ready to pulse. Everything looks good for switch–over. We’re approaching the safe system egress point for first subspace emersion. Course is calculated for nine subspace entry points and our flight plan is on-file with the Space-Flight Agency. Our current estimated flight duration is twelve standards. SFA has given us permission to engage drive at the first jump point in twenty-three minutes. It looks like a milk run to me Boss.”

  “Good,” Owens replied, rising from his seat, “Set the ship’s gravity to Lode normal. I had to wear this damn gravity compensator on-planet, and I’ll be glad to take it off.” Owens felt the gravity increase. “I’m heading back to my quarters now. I’m going to take a hot shower and then try to catch up on some correspondence. You can activate the intra-ship com-links, but unless there’s an emergency, I’ll expect some peace and quiet until I give you the green.”

  “You got it,” Hec said.

  Owens left the bridge and headed for his stateroom. He walked down the main corridor and approached the entrance to his quarters. The pressure door quietly slid into its casement as he neared. He paused at the threshold, looked around and sighed contentedly. He entered and took a deep breath; the comforting aroma of oiled leather and old polished wood greeted him. He smiled to himself. It was good to be home again. He had furnished the stateroom with recreations of furniture from the early 1900s of old Earth. He appreciated its solid construction and craftsmanship of the ancient design.

  Owens made his way toward the stateroom’s bathroom. He adjusted the shower settings, and then cast aside the gravity harness, disrobed and stepped into the enclosure. Wrapped in his robe minutes later, feeling more relaxed than he had anytime on Genhome’s surface, he sat down in an antique oak desk chair and swiveled around to face a matching roll-top desk with an ancient keyboard resting on its scarred writing surface.

  He activated the communications console hidden in the desk and a holo-screen popped into existence, hovering over the retracted roll-top. Foregoing the verbal interface, he entered his personal code on the keyboard. Message listings began to scroll across the screen. Well, he thought, back to work, and began to scan his messages.

  CHAPTER 7

  Service took place in thousands of temples on the inhabited planets of the Golstar system. Twice a solar day at the exact same time in the morning and evening, Guides of the Way would lead the followers of Golan Berral Light, the Founder, in the rituals of the Way. Everyone over the age of five was expected to attend at least one Service each day. No one was exempted from this rigid schedule other than the military and key personnel assigned to government and essential social services. Only they were allowed to attend special Services at varying times to accommodate their duty schedules; they were still required to attend Service at least once a day.

  At the palace on Berralton, Service was held in the huge vaulted temple called the Cathedral to the Way. It was designed as the focal point of the palace and as such, dominated the expansive central courtyard. Built from native stone, it resembled a great church of ancient Earth’s Renaissance period, complete with flying buttresses and towering spires, but on a much grander scale. The temple could accept fifteen thousand worshipers; today, it averaged less than four thousand.

  The Cathedral to the Way was the oldest colony-built structure in the Golstar system. Before the colonists moved from their transport ships and began to build the permanent settlements, construction of the great temple was first in order. Until the grand house of worship was completed, no other structure would be allowed. The Cathedral to the Way took over a year to complete, and during its construction, some colonists lived in the ships while others stayed in temporary shelters.

  The colonists, tapping into deposits of native minerals, forged huge beams and cross members from unique metal ores found plentiful on the planet. They carved solid blocks from deposits of dark-gray, marble-like material to sheath the massive superstructure and lined its interior with exotic woods harvested from nearby forests. Galleries, on either side of the central aisle, were built of the marble material with seating surfaces covered by polished wood. Angled away from the dais, the galleries on either side of the single aisle were arranged in gradually elevated tiers to allow a full view from any seat.

  The great structure had no windows, no multi-hued stained glass. Instead, its walls were festooned with intricately woven tapestries framed by oiled wood paneling. Illumination was provided by a massive ball of light suspended motionlessly in the front of the great hall of worship by unseen beams of energy. More than providing simple illumination, the ball of radiance was itself a principal symbol for the Light of the Way.

  Sharné entered the ancient, great hall with its tiers of galleries by a side entrance from the adjacent corridor. Long ago, before her time, she was told the Keepers of the Way, leading large formal processions, would enter from the main entrance at the far end of the hall framed by its towering doors of bronze. From there, the regal gathering would advance slowly to the Dais of Light that faced the galleries. A lot of unnecessary pomp and ceremony, she thought.

  However, now in recent time, owing to the smaller numbers of worshipers sitting towards the front of the hall, changes had been made, changes for the better, she thought. It was decided that the Keeper of the Way would enter from the side entrance closer to the dais. The long procession had, likewise, all but been abandoned. It now consisted of only Sharné, her father, Uncle Tal and a few visiting officials. She waited patiently as the Council slowly filed toward their reserved seats at the head of the hall. She watched as the last of the silent dignitaries finally found their proper places.

  She saw that the shining orb had begun to gently pulse, signaling for royal procession to begin its journey. She was momentarily startled to feel a light touch on her shoulder. Touching in public was forbidden and carried a punishment by law. She quickly turned, and saw that it was the Grand Patriarch. “Father,” she whispered. Why do you keep…?”

  He quietly finished her sentence, “...Teasing you?” He was looking at her with unconcealed affection. She glanced at Uncle Tal and noticed that he had an ill-concealed, pained expression on his face.

  He and Uncle Tal had quietly come up from behind her. As it was required of all the ruling families, both were in their summer robes of office and wearing similar platinum headpieces, but with larger signet jewels of different colors in their centers. She turned to greet him and forced a smile.

  Her smile remained fixed while under her breath, she said, “Father, if someone were to see you… well, a censure of penance for the Grand Patriarch would be embarrassing and…” she paused, “damaging.”

  Her father matched her smile with a more genuine one of his own, “You are right, of course,” he said quietly. “But sometimes even a Grand Patriarch breaks the rules.” His meaning went beyond the small infraction he had just committed.

  She frowned at him, but did not respond. The Council members had finally completed the passage to
their seats and remained standing, patiently waiting for the appearance of the Keeper of the Way. It was time to begin the small procession. Turning back to face the waiting officials, her demeanor turned brisk, and she said, “It is time.”

  CHAPTER 8

  It was late at night. They were all dressed the same. Heavy cowls hid dark mask-covered faces; the hems of their long flowing robes brushed the stone floor. The gray of their coarse-woven robes matched the color of the floor. Now waiting, motionless, they appeared as so many statues rising out of the stone from which they seemed carved.

  At the sound of a quiet rustling, they turned as one, breaking the illusion as they looked toward the source. Someone else had entered the room. The newcomer was dressed in robes cut identical to the others with the added feature of black trim around the cowl, cuffs and hem. The sex of the newcomer could not be determined as the robes concealed all features and form. Twenty sets of eyes followed the hooded figure as it glided towards the front of the room.

  The room was featureless save for a number of small softly glowing light globes spaced regularly along the walls. The room was bare of furniture. The newcomer strode purposely across the room and slowly turned to face the silent throng. Without direction, they quietly moved to form a semicircle to face the newcomer. Raising hands to encompass those present, the newcomer assumed the mantle of leadership. Through a device that disguised the newcomer’s voice, the hooded figure began the Litany of Light. The short ritual proceeded smoothly and ended with echoes of voices raised in praise of their just and holy cause.

  The room again fell to total silence and the Leader then began in a low, electronically distorted voice, “Preservers, the remedy that we have discussed for so long has been dispatched. I have admitted that I have but small hope it will be successful. However, there remains a slim chance of victory and therefore, it must be taken. Those who volunteered for the mission have our utmost gratitude and respect. On this day, let it be written that they will be bathed in the holy Light of the Way hereafter. These noble men and women have pledged their lives to make every effort to end the immediate threat.”