“Not a very talkative bunch, are they? They don’t seem to have lost any of their arrogance over the past few centuries.” Owens commented, “Well, let’s do what the lady says. The sooner I find out what’s going on, the better.”
“Course coordinates have been received and laid in. We’re on our way Boss. They want us to go slow; I guess they want to look us over, so ETA is at one hour, ten minutes. Um, while we’re in transit, shouldn’t you change or something?”
Owens looked down at the rumpled ship jumpsuit he was wearing and sighed. “I guess I better clean up and change into something more appropriate for this meeting. I wonder what their reaction would be if I showed up naked?”
“I don’t know Boss, but history tells me their sense of humor might only be found using a subatomic scanning microscope.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right and besides I could catch a cold. I suppose I’ll have to find something to wear.” He got up and headed towards his stateroom.
An hour later he returned to the bridge. He turned around in a full circle. “This was one of the other conditions that their message contained. I was to wear clothing that complied with their customs. The only things they allow to be exposed are hands and face. They provided some general guidelines and this is the outfit I came up with. What do you think?”
Owens wore a simple black, crew-necked, one-piece contour-suit that conformed to his body shape without being excessively tight. His feet were incased calf length, shiny black dura-leather boots. The outfit was finished off with a Nehru collared, charcoal gray day coat that terminated just below his knees. There were no visible clasps or adornments. The coat hung straight from Owens broad shoulders and remained slightly opened.
“You look good, Boss. Few men could wear an outfit like that. You can’t disguise your physique. With those muscles, it’s easy to tell that you’re a Loder. The women of Golstar are going to faint when they see you.”
“Do you think it’s inappropriate? I tore apart my wardrobe and this was as close as I could come to their requirements. Well, the coat was just a little snug, so I couldn’t use the closures, but at least it’s not too showy and everything is covered as they specified. I’m glad I didn’t have to use any of the other outfits in the wardroom.”
“I was only kidding,” Hec said. “You look fine. I’m sure your clothes will meet with their approval.”
“They had better. I don’t intend to change. At least their dress code didn’t coincide with some of the clothing the diplomatic corps thoughtfully provided. Some of that looked like something right out of a historical novel. I wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t powdered wigs hidden in some of the containers. As to the women fainting… well, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?” He grinned.
Hec asked, “Speaking of waiting, I’m curious. Do you think this is just the assembly point for an official escort or simply a parking place for the Holmes so that they can chauffeur you themselves in their big shiny ships?”
“I don’t have a clue; your guess is as good as mine. In either case, you know the drill. Act as a typical AI. It’s not clear what they’re going to do with the ship. They may end up boarding us, so remember to act dumb. Or maybe in your case, act normal.”
“Ha, ha, did you get that one out of those ancient language tapes you were listening to?” The AI sniffed, “And one of these days you’re going to trust I understand my role when it comes performing my duties, so stop worrying, they’ll never suspect me.”
“They had better not... and don’t be so damn touchy. It’s for my peace of mind, not yours. Besides, they’ll probably want to keep the Holmes as far away from their home system as possible. I don’t know anything about the assignment they have in mind for me, or how long it might take. So if they don’t want the ship anywhere near one of their planets, you may find yourself cooling your metaphorical heels out here for a while.”
“That’s okay Boss; I can be as patient as the next AI personality overlay.” Hec paused momentarily. “Speaking of the devil, we’re parallel to the Light Saber now. The distance between us is less than ten meters. I’m now initiating the final docking procedure per their kind directions and have extended the Holmes’ docking cleats. Did I tell you that the Light Saber is really big; bigger than a Confederated Planets battleship? The other two ships look to be about the same tonnage.”
“We’re close enough to eyeball it,” Owens said. “Let’s have a look.”
Hec dutifully put the images from the outside docking cameras on the holo-screen. The Light Saber filled the screen. Owens immediately saw three bands of weapons blisters circling the huge hull. He could just make the faint outlines of rectangles that could only be oversize maintenance hatches for the enormous shield projectors that must lurk beneath the expansive hull. “That’s one nasty looking battle wagon. What did we do to deserve such a reception?”
A single, loud metallic clang reverberated throughout the ship. “That’s their docking rig. They must not trust us. The rig is huge all by itself. It’s more like a rigid derrick in contrast to the flex-connectors we use in Confederated Planets.” Hec paused for a moment, “I just received the signal that the clamps are secured to the Holmes’ cleats. The ships are now mated and by the size of their rig, we won’t be going anywhere until they release us. Anyway, by the time you reach the inner airlock, the passageway should be fully pressurized. You don’t want to keep the lady waiting. Good luck Boss.”
Owens’ pulse increased as the magnitude of what he was about to do struck him again. He would be the first Confederated Planets citizen to ever lay eyes upon Golstar and its people. He had trouble comprehending how an ex-cop-turned-private-eye could find himself in such a position.
As he had done so many times on the trip to Golstar, questions started swirling in his mind. What did they really want him for? If their request was legitimate, what could he possibly do that their home law enforcement couldn’t? And why had they asked for him by name? Well, he thought, he would soon have all the answers. He took a few calming breaths and started his short walk to the airlock. He reached the inner lock and paused. Hec announced that everything was green and opened the pressure door leading to the outer lock.
A few moments later Owens found himself waiting in front of the Golstar ship’s outer lock. It opened and the voice of the Keeper of the Way immediately instructed him to enter. “Janus Owens, proceed to the door straight ahead at the end of the grand entryway. Through the door, you will find yourself in a corridor. Walk forward to its end and go through the door then turn right at the first junction you encounter. Enter the second door on your left. I will be waiting for you there.”
Owens stepped past the Light Saber’s outer airlock threshold. It closed behind him. The inner lock opened and a rush of the Golstar ship’s air immediately hit him, equalizing the slight pressure differential. The air was thick with humidity. He wondered if something was wrong with the ship’s life support. The heavy moisture-laden air was already beginning to make him sweat. He also noticed that it carried a subtle scent of spice. It reminded him of cinnamon, orange peel and something else he couldn’t quite place. He momentarily wondered if the air was laced with some sort of psychotropic agent. If it was, he thought, he couldn’t do anything about it now.
He entered the double-wide entryway of the Light Saber’s inner lock. It opened into a large foyer. Unprepared for the environment that greeted him, he stopped and looked around the grand entryway and was immediately transported back to an earlier age. With mouth agape, he looked around the large chamber. He was struck by the incredible ornate design of the Golstar ship’s deliberately exposed structural supports.
Convoluted lattice works of girders and braces had been elaborately adorned and left uncovered. Bulkhead supports were wrought in scrollwork. Ornate balusters and fretwork presented a picture not unlike ancient Victorian metalwork of old Earth. He could see that the upper structures and ceiling were painted in asymmetrical patterns of overlapping br
owns and oranges. He reached out and touched a nearby, fragile-looking support. The dark gray-green alloy was not familiar to him; no doubt refined from some native ore mined on one of the Golstar planets.
Bright, spherical lights hung from the ceiling, highlighting the crafted metalwork. Complex shadows were cast by the lights, making the scene even more intricate and not a little confusing. Further disconcerting was that the shadows mottled the foyer’s surfaces and almost masked the large hatches disguised as carved wooden doors regularly spaced along the walls. The scene reminded Owens of a depiction of the fictional submarine Nautilus in an ancient recording he once saw as a child.
Owens had trouble taking it all in. His eyes had difficulty finding a single focal point and flitted from one design to another, never quite resting on one element. He looked down the end of the entryway, shutting out the distraction of shadows and fancy metalwork. He focused instead on his destination and began to walk; his boot heels tapped on a polished deck constructed of what seemed to be real wood.
He opened the heavy hatch and walked slowly down the entryway, following the directions that the Keeper of the Way had given him. He was still intrigued by the vision of the archaic grand entryway. He thought it unusual to present such an artistic interpretation of an earlier gentle age in a ship clearly designed for war. As he traveled deeper into the ship, he found that the inner corridors were a little more functional-looking but still curiously ornate. Owens finally reached the designated door and stopped. He stood motionless, hesitating. He wondered what was awaiting him on the other side. He hadn’t been this nervous since he was a rookie on the force.
Staring at the door, he saw that it had a simple press-plate mechanism. Stop stalling, he told himself. He finally reached forward and the door immediately opened at his touch. He paused as cool dry air caressed his exposed skin and dried the beginning droplets of perspiration that had formed on his forehead. That’s much better, he thought. He straightened his shoulders and stepped across the threshold only to have his eyes dazzled once more.
A tall young woman was standing in the center of the room. Owens had not anticipated that the Keeper of the Way would be beautiful. The first thing he noticed, were her intelligent, amber-green eyes coolly appraising his entrance. She did not smile or frown at his appearance. She voiced no immediate greeting.
Trying not to stare, he took in the rest of her face; well-shaped nose, generous lips surrounded by a flawless tan complexion. This was all framed in luxurious auburn hair. He completed his inventory by taking in her slim athletic shape and her height. Incredibly, she was over a hundred and eighty centimeters tall. He was not used to seeing a woman of such stature outside of his home world.
Lastly, he noticed her attire. She wore an ivory, high-necked, long-sleeved, floor-length dress. It was trimmed in some sort of fur and had white crystal clasps on the front. Her feet were hidden. He had stopped just past the threshold and remained silent, waiting for her to speak.
For all her preparations, Sharné had not been prepared for the reality that was Janus Owens. The images in his dossier did not do him justice, nor did they convey the quiet assurance he projected. And he was much larger than she expected. She had carefully read his dossier and knew of his Loder background, but it had not prepared her for his actual physical presence. He seemed to radiate a strength and confidence she had never before encountered. Here was a dangerous man, she thought.
He stood there waiting and wondering if he should say something. She was beginning to make him nervous and he hoped it didn’t show. Keeping a cool demeanor was an asset in his line of work. Usually, it was second nature to him, but now standing before this dazzling woman, he found that he had difficulty projecting a calm exterior.
Sharné kept her face expressionless as she continued to inspect him. There was something vaguely familiar about him. His wavy black hair was trimmed short; his clear blue eyes looked frankly into hers. He had a broad masculine face with a muscular jaw. He reminded her of a picture of an ancient Roman gladiator she had once seen in a book from her father’s library. That must be why he had looked familiar, he matched her childhood imaginings. She could almost forget he was a representative of Confederated Planets.
There were a number of chairs, couches and low tables also reminiscent of Victorian design, positioned around the room. It looked to be the ship’s lounge, Owens surmised. The Keeper of the Way seemed to gather herself, smiled perfunctorily and said, “Janus Owens of Confederated Planets; it is good that you have finally arrived. I bid you welcome to Golstar.”
Not the warmest greeting he had ever been given, he thought, but not unexpected either. He noticed the smile, which had already vanished, had never reached her eyes. Then, without ceremony, she sat down in a large upholstered chair and directed Owens to take the chair opposite her. She asked if he would like some refreshment. Owens politely declined.
She began without preamble, “Janus Owens, much has happened since we sent the fateful message that requested your presence. From that time, we have since observed the repeated attacks upon your ship with both interest and some mild concern.”
“Yes, the attacks were a bit of a distraction,” he carefully understated. “I’m afraid in my line work, it’s not uncommon to make enemies. In this case though, I admit I was a little surprised by both the manner and magnitude of the assaults.”
She arched one eyebrow delicately, “Indeed… we were dismayed but not surprised to note Confederated Planets appears to have some difficulty in maintaining law and order. I would think that protecting its citizenry from these types of… distractions, would be a high priority.” She said this in a matter-of-fact manner, but the underlying note of superiority was quite clear. She went on, “Not that it appears to have mattered in your case, since you were more than resourceful in countering those attacks without outside aid.”
“Well, it was very fortunate the attackers were under-prepared. My ship simply outclassed them,” Owens replied mildly, ignoring the barb.
“You are modest, an unnecessary gesture in my culture.” She frowned slightly. “In any event, the Grand Patriarch followed your progress closely and was very pleased to find you were not injured in either of your encounters. We trust your ship also sustained no permanent damage.”
Owens felt his patience already beginning to slip. As blandly as he could manage, he said, “No, I’m happy to say that the ship came through virtually unscathed, although I can’t say as much for the attackers.”
“Have you identified your assailants?”
“Unfortunately no, they were successful in destroying any physical evidence of their origins. We were able to get some sensor readings, but so far they haven’t been very helpful. I still have no idea who the attackers were or why they were after me, in particular. No one I know has the resources to mount such attacks, such as they were.”
“That is… unfortunate indeed.”
He noted her tone belied her words. Was that relief he sensed? His mild impatience was replaced with growing interest.
She continued, “Conversely, it is fortunate their losses have been severe; whoever is behind the attacks might now be discouraged from continuing their campaign. Perhaps they have given up? The failure to identify the perpetrators may be of little consequence in the long run.”
He wondered if she was somehow implying, as a private investigator, he should have been able to discover their identity. Or perhaps the relief she seemed to express was only a confirmation of her low opinion of Confederated Planets. He gave up trying to interpret her meaning and ignoring her tone, Owens answered honestly, “I’m afraid anyone with the means to mount two separate attacks from space will not easily be deterred. But, I must say with the utmost respect, I don’t think they’ll attempt to approach the quarantine’s borders, let alone follow me into Golstar space.”
“Yes…” she paused at Owens’ unintended irony. “That would indeed be most foolhardy. But now that you are here, your safety can be assu
red.” She paused again, this time a little longer, considering her next words. “It is good to hear that your ship was undamaged. That will make its transportation back to Berralton more expedient.”
“So, it is your intention to transport it?” He asked without thinking.
She replied, almost challengingly, “Yes. Naturally, no ships other than our own are allowed to operate within Golstar’s boarders. This ship will act as the conveyance. Perhaps you noticed the Light Saber’s external docking apparatus is somewhat different than what is, I believe, typically used by Confederated Planets?”
Owens thought back on Hec’s comments, “Yes, when I docked, I did notice that it appeared a little out of the ordinary. It looks to have an unusual reinforced structure, a rigid rather than flexible configuration.” Not unlike you, he was beginning to think. “It’s not what we typically use in Confederated Planets. Normally, we employ a flex-umbilical with a remotely guided airlock docking collar at its end.”
“We believe it prudent to be prepared for any contingency.” She looked at him pointedly. “The docking mechanism also serves as a salvage harness. Your ship is much too large to place in the Light Saber’s shuttle bays. Therefore, as a means to insure your safety, your ship is now securely attached to the Light Saber by our external docking frame. We will transport your ship back to our capital planet, Berralton.”
“I see,” he said. But he really didn’t see the purpose. They could have just as easily disabled the Holmes engines and left it in orbit around one of the uninhabited planets. However, he supposed it was just a form of control, perhaps to remind him of their power over him.
Shadows of Golstar Page 20
