Shadows of Golstar

by Terrence Scott

  The Leader then walked back up to the platform and raised the objects higher. The leader remained silent, letting the expectation grow. Finally, the Leader again spoke, “These are symbols, my brethren, symbols of undeserved self-worth, of greed and a delusion of power. They now symbolize nothing.” The Leader let the objects fall to the stone floor of the platform. The Leader raised a boot and ground the lapel pins, designating the rank of colonel, into the hard stone with the boot’s heel. The leader then withdrew the boot. The soft metal had been reduced to two unrecognizable lumps. The Leader looked out to the gathered Preservers. “I trust the meaning of this small demonstration has not been lost on any of you.”

  “Now then,” the Leader’s rigid posture assumed a more relaxed aspect, “I open the floor for comment.” The Leader looked expectantly at the Preservers.

  The Preservers, accustomed to the sudden, almost mercurial shifts of mood and subject matter by the Leader, knew what was expected. One figure stepped forward, separating itself from the semi-circle of Preservers. “We bless your leadership and thank the Founder for bringing you to us. You lead us down the true path. And now through your vigilance, one who was unworthy of our holy cause has been removed. Through your efforts, the Light remains gloriously bright this night.” Others in-turn, expressed their appreciation for the Leader’s wisdom and guidance. The Leader graciously acknowledged the numerous accolades.

  The Leader then waited for more serious comment and was rewarded when a Preserver stepped forward and asked, “What of the dark-bringer? You stated the unsanctioned attack had failed. Is the dark-bringer not now on Berralton? We have received no word on his status.” The Preserver stepped back.

  The Leader nodded slowly, “A very sound question. Indeed, that was a serious oversight by the traitor.” The Leader pointedly omitted any direct reference to the ‘General’ and looked up to address all the assembled Preservers. “By all means, I shall now endeavor to correct that oversight...”

  “Our enemy was attacked by two Dreadnought class ships from our own fleet outside the orbit of Crystone.” A collective gasp came from the Preservers. The Leader went on to explain the mutiny of the sister ships, the attack on the Light Saber and Owens’ incredible escape. The Leader had left out the fact the Grand Patriarch’s daughter had been with Owens during the attack. The Leader finished with, “The dark-bringer has successfully landed on Selane.”

  A number cries were heard from the Preservers. One voice blurted, “The Shrine world! His blasphemy has no bounds!”

  It was uncomfortably quiet for a moment. The Leader said gravely, “I do hope you are not as free with that designation outside of this meeting place?”

  The Preserver responsible for the outburst knelt and said, “I am sorry and beg your forgiveness, Leader. I vow to you I would never reveal or discuss the importance of Selane to anyone outside of the inner circle.”

  “Let it not be said that I am not forgiving. Does not the Founder himself declare that forgiveness is the first step to reconciliation and that reconciliation is the foundation for the renewal of the faith? Arise and mark your vow, but know I will hold you to it.”

  The Preserver stood, pulled back the hood and held a gloved thumb to the mask’s now exposed forehead and intoned, “I so mark this vow.”

  The Leader then pointedly looked at each Preserver and said, “I expect all of you will renew your vow of silence on this. The true worth of Selane is known only by us and those within the government, and soon only the Preservers will be privy to the secret.”

  Discussions followed covering alternative contingency plans for the outsider’s demise and various timetables for the new revolution. Time passed slowly and Minister Joselé found herself relieved as the formal talks dwindled.

  Silence finally overtook the throng as all eyes looked to the hooded figure of the Leader. After a brief time, the Leader raised gloved hands again and gave the parting benediction. Before being dismissed, the Leader reminded them of the next meeting time and place. They slowly filed out of the chambers. One member hung back and waited until the others had left.

  “Leader,” the synthesized voice warbled, “if you permit it, I wish a moment of your time.”

  “Of course, what do you want to discuss?” The Leader’s arms opened in welcome.

  CHAPTER 38

  Owens slowed his pace. “Damn it, now the compass isn’t working. Something’s wrong with my wrist-comp.”

  “Mmm?” Sharné voiced distractedly. She looked up and barely avoided bumping into him.

  “I’ve lost the directional heading. It’s jumping all over the place and won’t settle down.” He frowned at the changing numbers. They had resumed their journey and walked for only short time when Owens had noticed the errant readings. Annoyed, he flicked the display with his finger. “I wonder if it was damaged during the skirmish with the teddies. I’d be surprised; they're built pretty tough.”

  Sharné’s mind was elsewhere. Her perplexing thoughts surrounding Owens had been foremost on her mind. While immersed in her reflections, she had nearly forgotten the danger they were fleeing. Rather than moving to escape the mutineers bent on murdering them, it seemed more like a recreational walk in the woods back on Berralton. Owens’ sudden, irritated declaration brought her back to the present.

  She quickly gathered her thoughts and asked, “Could there be something external causing it? Perhaps some type of interference is affecting its function, a jamming device?”

  “Well, I suppose it’s possible, but I can’t imagine the mutineers would carry a portable jamming device powerful enough to create a fluctuation like this.” He shook his wrist for emphasis.

  “What do you think it could be then?”

  “You got me,” he said. “All I know is that whatever’s causing it has enough strength to interfere with the magnetic compass function. I’m not particularly technically inclined, but I would think any jamming would be aimed at communications frequencies rather than a simple instrument for detecting magnetic poles.”

  He thought a moment. “I guess it could be caused by some natural source, like a mineral deposit.” He looked again at his wrist-comp.

  She said, “I am only versed on the general geological make-up of Selane. I suppose there could be some native ore that could cause the problem.”

  “But even if that were the case,” he said, “these things are supposed to be well buffered to allow for fluctuations caused by local influences. Assuming the buffer hasn’t been compromised, a magnetic field that would cause the wrist-comp to malfunction for this long would be spread over a good-sized area.”

  “And,” he added, “provided it’s just not broken, from the way the wrist-comp is failing to lock-in on magnetic north, I would have to guess whatever causing the problem is particularly strong, at least strong enough to create a fluctuating magnetic field.”

  She said, “Well, even so, it was not truly providing us genuine guidance was it? It only provided us a point of reference after all. I seem to recall you saying it would prevent us from walking around in circles.”

  “Yeah, but I failed to add it was also providing a record of our relative position from the Holmes’ landing site coordinates. We could have transmitted them to a rescue party to speed our recovery.” He shook his wrist again.

  Sharné sighed dramatically, “Well, it is not the first time things have not exactly gone our way.”

  He chuckled, “Now that’s an understatement.”

  Since the attack by the teddies (he couldn’t think of any other name to call them), her attitude had definitely changed and for the better, he thought. Her demeanor had noticeably softened and she no longer seemed to be constantly on her guard. Thankfully, her cold reserve had virtually disappeared, at least for the present. She now seemed reasonably alert, but not on a razor’s edge as she had seemed while on the Saber and later the Holmes. As a result, he was having a harder time ignoring her feminine presence. His attraction for her seemed to be growing and tr
ying to decipher her last comment to him after the teddies’ attack had only added to his growing distraction.

  He tried to put aside these thoughts. He said, “We might as well try to keep on in the general direction we were heading. We’ll use the sun’s position in the sky a reference point. But with our constant need to detour around trees and bushes, it won’t be easy to travel in a straight line.”

  As he cinched up one his pack’s straps, he continued, “Well, I’ve wasted enough of our time. We haven’t gone very far since you were cornered by the teddies. I don’t know how long it’s going to take for them to sleep off the effects of the dispersal gun, so I’d like to put as much distance as we can between them and us. I think we discouraged them enough to keep them from tracking us when they wake, but a little caution never hurts.”

  They resumed their brisk pace. They had only traveled a few hundred yards when Owens suddenly froze. He put his finger to his lips. Sharné immediately became motionless and she watched Owens anxiously. He slowly turned his head, and appeared to be intently listening for some sound that had escaped her notice.

  After a time, he shook his head. “Sorry, I thought I heard something.”

  “The mutineers, do you think they have they found us?”

  “No, no I don’t think so,” he reassured her. He kept his voice low, at odds with what he had just said. “I guess I was mistaken...” he hesitated. “That was really strange. I guess that it’s more like I sensed something than actually heard it. The feeling suddenly came over me, and then it went away.”

  She looked at the uncertainty in his eyes, “Owens, I do not understand. What was it that you sensed?”

  He frowned, “Damned if I know. It felt like a rustling, like something or someone was rousing. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I mean sure, in my job, you develop a survival instinct, and sometimes I get a sense when things aren’t quite right; sort of like a mental alarm. But this wasn’t like that. No, this was definitely something different.” He struggled to express the feeling. “It felt…” He stopped search for words.

  She asked, “Do you think it might have been an animal?”

  “I just don’t know,” he answered. There was frustration in his voice, “I definitely sensed something stirring. It was so distinct I thought I had actually heard it. Maybe it was an animal.” He shook his head, “I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but the feeling came on so sudden and strong. It caught me off-guard.” He shook his head in dissatisfaction. “I wish I could explain it better, but I can’t.”

  She moved closer.

  “It’s gone now,” he said softly. “I don’t feel it anymore.”

  “You say you have not sensed something like this before?”

  He shook his head, “Never. Other than my cop’s sixth sense, I’ve never experienced anything like this. I was tested as a child and didn’t score high on any of the psi-scales.”

  She asked, “So, what do you think we should do?”

  “Real or imagined, it’s gone now, so we do the same as we’ve been doing. We go forward, away from a known enemy,” he replied. “I don’t think it’s wise to stay in any one spot for long.”

  Sharné remained disturbed by Owens’ revelation. What could it mean? In the short time she had known him, he had always seemed logical, unflappable, a man prepared for any eventuality, a man solidly grounded in the real world. To hear him now express this uncertainty about a mysterious feeling was the last thing she would have expected.

  Where Owens was concerned, her emotions were already in mild turmoil. Since the attack, she experienced intense fear, anger and more recently feelings of exhilaration, liberation and a gradual return of self-confidence. But above it all, she felt a growing closeness to Owens. When he was near, she felt safe and something more. He pulled at her in ways she could still not understand. She could feel him reaching out to her even then. She moved to stand closer to him, beside him, almost but not touching.

  “I am ready,” she said.

  He continued to stand still, seeming to listen for whatever it was that had come to his attention. She unexpectedly felt the urge to reach out and gather him in her arms and comfort him. Or perhaps she was the one who needed the comfort? She was startled at her bold thoughts. Touching was frowned upon in her world. Physical manifestations of affection were limited and always took place in privacy, behind closed doors. Before now she had never experienced the need to hold or be held by a man. Sex, though practiced, was not discussed openly in Golstar’s polite society.

  Why now, she wondered, did she feel the need to be held by this stranger from a foreign world, an enemy of her people? Standing close to him, she took in his masculine scent, a subtle musk overlaid by suggestion of cinnamon. Her heart began to beat a little faster.

  He finally noticed her close presence and turning to her, said, “I hope I haven’t upset you. I know I must have sounded a little crazy, but it was just a passing feeling.” When she didn’t respond, he asked, “Are you still okay?”

  “Oh, I am sorry, Owens; I am not worried about that. When you first told me you heard something, I immediately thought the mutineers had caught up to us. For a while, I had almost forgotten the danger, but your voiced concern jolted me back to reality.”

  “Yeah,” he said, “some reality… whoever these people are, their sole aim is to take me out of the picture without consideration of others. Sharné, you were pulled into this because of me, and for that I’m truly sorry.”

  She touched his sleeve, “Owens, please do not apologize for something that is not your fault. If not for Golstar’s request, none of this would have happened. Without that, you might still be within Confederated Plants, plying your trade, and leading a normal existence.”

  “At least life-and-death scenarios are not exactly foreign to me. But that can’t be said about you. I can only imagine what it’s been like for you.” He paused to scan their surroundings once more. “I’m beginning to wonder if it might have been better for you to have stayed on the ship and taken your chances with Hec.” His voice became softer. “Too late for second guessing, but I want you to know this; I will do everything I can to keep you safe, whatever it takes.”

  It dawned on her what he was implying. “Please do not consider giving yourself up to save me.” Even now, she could not tell him how truly important he was to her people… and she finally admitted, to her. “We have come so far. You have given me hope we can yet prevail. Please, just give me your word you will fight to keep us both alive, as will I.”

  He looked at her, wondering at urgency of her words. He smiled. “Okay, you have my promise.”

  She dropped her hand from his shoulder, relieved.

  He seemed to hesitate before continuing, his voice almost a whisper. “I want you to know that you’re… more than just a client to me, Sharné. I promise I won’t allow anything to happen to you.”

  She was startled by the sincerity in his voice and the underlying emotion implied by his words. She looked up into his eyes and searched for some indication of his feelings. What she saw was the quiet strength she had sensed in him while aboard the Light Saber. And something else, something that moved her to place her hands on either side of his face and draw him down close to hers. She continued to gaze into his eyes, watching as they reflected a dawning realization that matched her own awakening feelings.

  “Sharné…” he began.

  She shook her head slightly, silencing what he was about to say. “This is not a time for words,” she breathed. “But just in case there is not another opportunity.” Her soft lips touched his. They were hesitant at first, and then the kiss grew more urgent and their tongues began a gentle exploration. The unexpected kiss was full of promise and for the first time in his life, Owens lost himself in the innocent passion of her embrace. All too quickly, she pulled away. Her face was flushed and her eyes shined with emotion, “I wish there was time to…”

  He gently pulled her back, lifted her chin and kissed her once
more. He smiled, “There will be other opportunities; I promise that too.”

  “Then I think I will hold you to that promise as well.”

  Reluctantly, they separated and by silent agreement, they resumed their trek through the forest. As they walked, recognition of their growing affection for one another pushed aside other thoughts. Unaware their thoughts ran in parallel lines, they reflected upon that kiss, wondering and hoping it meant something beyond the warm intimate gesture. Was this first blossom in a flowering relationship? Or was it simply an expression of comfort, creating a momentary haven from the harsh fate that they were trying to escape. Each wondered what the other felt. Each knew what they wanted the other to feel.

  Owens imagined what it would be like to make love to Sharné. He remembered the softness of her lips and wondered how her bare skin would feel against his? Owens tripped over a small exposed root, startling him out of his romantic musings. His eyes refocused, taking in their surroundings. It surprised him to note the forest was beginning to thin noticeably. They stopped, looked around and then at each other.

  Owens was the first to speak. “The forest is changing; I think it’s starting to thin out. So it looks like we’ll be reaching the end of our cover pretty soon. Damn, we really don’t need this right now.” He glanced at his wrist. “And if anything, the magnetic field is even stronger.” The wrist-comp had reverted to a simple chrono-display. Apparently, it couldn’t cope with the changing flux and had shut down the compass function on its own. When he tried to reactivate the function, it would not stay in the compass mode for more than a few seconds before quickly reverting back into a basic timepiece.

  Sharné had been looking around. Her face took on a tiny frown of concentration. She looked at Owens. “Have you noticed that not all of the forest has diminished, only this area where we are walking?” She pointed to her right, “That part of the forest actually seems to be getting thicker.”

  Owens looked at her quizzically and then where she pointed. He looked and saw what she meant. “You’re talking about that line of trees, those big conifers we talked about earlier; they’re not thinning out with the rest of the forest.” He shook his head in mock disgust, “And I’m the one who’s supposed to be the investigator.” He said this knowing his mind had been on other things; things associated with a recent kiss.