Shadows of Golstar

by Terrence Scott

  She nodded in agreement, “Probably something close to it. That must be what the Founder encountered when he led the fleet into the system. He was the first to receive the message of the Trah-tang. I can only imagine what he must have felt, being the sole human to contact an alien entity. It's easy to understand now why it was designated as a Founder’s Shrine.”

  Finally, thought Owens, a piece of the puzzle dropped into place.

  “Owens, I am sorry you did not see the Messenger with your own eyes. As I described earlier, it is very large and has geometric shapes seemingly piled on top of one another. They have no physical connection with each other and each moves independently. The entire array is in a constant state of motion. The Mutineers took some measurements but could find no apparent power source or a discernible reason for its existence. But we know now it is part of a beacon, a call to other intelligences.”

  Owens looked toward the wall that hid the artifact from his view. Sharné described the alien construct situated behind the wall, a man-made wall. The entity that called itself the Controller sat in a mechanized lair called Prime Two, miles beneath the planets’ surface, and was definitely part of the alien construct. But, he thought, why the wall? Why would a simple stone wall be erected around the artifact?

  He asked Sharné for her opinion.

  “I can only tell you what I observed.” She smiled suddenly, “Do you think I am I beginning to sound like a private investigator?”

  He smiled back her, “Yeah, I must be rubbing off on you. I’m happy to know that even though you were taken prisoner, you still kept your head, and your ears and eyes open. So, what else did you observe?”

  “When I was first captured, I overheard the leader of the mutineers tell one of his henchmen about a bronze plaque. I believe that I mentioned it earlier. It was set in a boulder near the artifact. He said it identified the artifact as the Founder’s Shrine. He went on to say the engraved message marked the artifact’s position as being the place where the Founder was given the final revelations. I believe it referred to the revelations that provided some of the principle tenets of our society.”

  “What were the plaque’s inscriptions? Did it provide any direct information about the artifact?”

  “I know only what the mutineer said about it. I was not given the opportunity to read it for myself. But I did see something else that supports the mutineer’s assertion and with what I surmised earlier, it all comes together. I saw the Grand Patriarch’s Seal on the wall next to the gate.”

  Owens’ looked at the wall near the gated entrance and could make out a blue rectangle attached to the wall. He couldn’t see from where he was if there was writing on it. He pointed to the area, “The Grand Patriarch’s Seal? That sounds official. What does it signify?”

  She looked to where he pointed, nodded and said, “It is a safeguard. It informs all who encounter it that the area is under the Grand Patriarch’s protection. It is a warning.”

  “I see,” said Owens. “It’s sort of like a ‘No Trespassing’ sign.”

  “I suppose you could look at it that way,” she agreed. “But violating the seal’s warning is serious breach of our law and the penalty is most severe.”

  Owens briefly wondered what could be more severe than their usual punishment of death by firing squad.

  “It was unfortunate it is in such bad condition,” Sharné went on. “It is badly weathered and the date is barely legible, making it even more difficult to read. But even so, I could discern the first year it was placed.” She saw his blank look. “If the date on the Seal is to be believed, the wall that surrounds the shrine dates back to the first settlement and that means it is almost five-hundred years old. Since then the seal has been periodically renewed by subsequent Golstar leaders.” Including her father, she thought.

  “So,” Owens said, “that seems to confirm the Founder really was here.”

  “Yes, it is the correct time period.”

  “Interesting, the seal, the wall, the plaque are all human-created. However, the artifact itself and the Controller aren’t. It looks like your Founder did not want just anyone accessing the Messenger. I suppose that’s understandable; I can imagine the Controller could be dangerous.” Especially in the wrong hands, Owens thought, but it did intervene and save him from the mutineers. Then again, if he hadn’t been drawn to the Messenger in the first place... This circular argument wasn’t getting him anywhere. “So they erected the wall, force-field and with the Grand Patriarch’s seal, warned away uninvited guests.”

  “That is the logical explanation,” she agreed.

  He asked, “Can you remember anything else? There may be something you didn’t think important enough to mention. Even if you think it’s a minor detail, is there something you may have not told me that might help me better understand?”

  He was oblivious to the impact his words had on Sharné. She cringed inside. Owens was asking her about the Founder’s Shrine, but his question opened the flood-gate to the memory of her lies; the many lies she had employed to allay his suspicions and explain her father’s ‘Trojan’ assignment.

  With everything that had happened, her duplicity had been pushed deeply into the background of her mind, away from conscious thought. The danger, excitement, fright and the gradual recognition of her growing feelings for Owens had shrouded her mind in a temporary fog of blessed forgetfulness. The subsequent questions as to why critical information had been withheld from her had pushed her own deceit even farther back into the recesses of her mind. But with his words, she was painfully reminded of her original purpose. Every falsehood she had uttered to forward her father’s plan came rushing back to her, like violent waves crashing against the foundation of her conscience.

  She found herself hopelessly torn between her sworn duty to her father, her people and that of her growing bond to Owens. “Owens, I…” she began.

  A soft chiming interrupted her. Owens looked at his wrist-comp. “It’s Hec.” He activated the com channel and the AI’s voice rang out clearly.

  “Boss, are you and Sharné okay?”

  “A scratch here, a bruise there, but otherwise we’re both safe. What about you and the Holmes?”

  “Hah, they couldn’t lay a glove on us. When the mutineer’s mother ship lost extra time to allow for their shuttle-launch to the planet, I was able to increase the distance between us. After that it wasn’t too hard to stay out of their weapons’ range. I also managed to poke a couple of holes through their jamming. I kept transmitting your message and it looks like some of it got through.”

  “Great,” Owens was happy to hear that Hec had survived. “So, how is it that you’re back now?”

  “A few hours ago, the rogue ship suddenly lost interest in the chase. They turned tail and headed back towards Selane,” Hec replied.

  “That syncs up with what Sharné told me,” Owens said. “The mutineers knew that ships would be coming out from Berralton.”

  “Yes,” Sharné agreed. “They mentioned their approach more than once.”

  “So,” Owens continued, “our rescue party is getting close and it looks like the mutineers decided that they didn’t want to be around when our rescuers landed. They just took their shuttle back up to rejoin their comrades.”

  “Well that explains why the mutineers broke off the pursuit, not that they had any chance of catching me, mind you,” Hec bragged. “After that, I established communications with one of the rescue ships. It was intersecting my course, trying to engage the mutineers. I don’t know if they were successful, the baddies had turned back to Selane and had a good head start. They could still detour and escape into subspace.”

  Hec paused, “Anyway, I was able to talk to the friendly Golstar ship. I tried to get a status on the mutineer’s ship.”

  “What did they say?” Owens asked.

  “Not surprisingly, they don’t like to talk very much. In so many words, I was told to mind my own business and instead of a status, they gave me a set of i
nstructions. I was told I should head on to Selane and contact you, verify your location and transmit your coordinates back to them. I did that when I locked onto your wrist-comp transmit signal. I hope that’s okay.”

  At the sound of a faint rumbling, Owens and Sharné looked up at the sky. They could see a distant pinpoint of bright light. Owens returned his attention to the wrist-comp. “You did well. It looks like the cavalry is already arriving. Did they say anything else?”

  “Only for the Holmes to maintain a high orbit and standby for further instructions,” Hec replied.

  “Okay, I’m not in a position to contradict their orders, even if I were so inclined. It’s better to keep following their instructions. I’m going to sign-off for now. I’ll contact you again as soon as I can.” He switched off the com channel.

  The noise increased and the light in the sky gradually grew in size. Before long, a shuttle landed in a clearing adjacent to the shrine. Owens looked at Sharné and they began to walk toward the spacecraft. Unexpectedly, he stepped on something hard, nearly tripping. He bent down and picked up the object. “Hey, look what I found.”

  “What is it?” She looked at him in puzzlement.

  “Your dispersal gun,” he replied. “They forgot it or didn’t think it important enough to keep. Why don’t you hold on to it, at least for now?

  “Very well,” she said, placing the small weapon in one of the large pockets of her survival suit and with Owens beside her, she started off towards the shuttle.

  ● ● ●

  It was hot and Linden was sweating. He swiped at his forehead with the back of his sleeve. The sleeve came away darkened with perspiration and grime. The deck trembled under his feet as if the Light Avenger feared its approaching fate. The ship emitted ominous creaking noises under the constant stress of emergency thrust made necessary by the relentless pursuit. Muted sounds crept along deserted corridors, the occasional squawk of structural supports protesting under the loads being placed upon them.

  And there was the dust; the years of accumulated dirt and grit shaken from their long quiescent slumber in a myriad of nooks and crannies throughout the ship, now roused into the air from the constant vibration. Air exchanger filters, past due for replacement, became clogged and the dusty air stagnated. He grimaced, and then coughed.

  His mind was numb, unable to cope with the woman’s impossible disappearance. One second she was tied, being led into the shuttle, the next she was gone. No sound or pyrotechnic display gave proof of her mysterious departure. The only evidence that she had ever been present was the untidy heap of rope that had bound her, lying at the top of the entry ramp. He could not understand what had happened and knew pursuing this line of thought was fruitless given their current situation.

  Before the shuttle had arrived to take them back to the ship, he had been preoccupied by the disappearance of dark-bringer’s remains. Thinking that he had the time, he had delayed in interrogating her until they were again aboard the Light Avenger. However, she vanished before he could finally question her. He still had no idea who she was. He grimaced in frustration and with some reluctance, he turned his thoughts back to his more immediate problems.

  They had barely rejoined the Light Avenger when the alarm klaxons began to sound. Another ship had approached their weapons range. It was the dark-bringer’s ship. It too had returned to the vicinity of Selane. They found some little solace that they might at least have another opportunity to destroy it.

  They had only just started again their pursuit of the accursed vessel when they discovered that it was not alone. Unfortunately, another ship was coming up from behind it, a Golstar ship. The Golstar ship broke on a new heading as the dark-bringer’s ship changed course and made for orbit around Selane. The other ship’s course brought them to a heading aimed directly for the Light Avenger. It was obvious that it was one of the rescue ships sent by the Grand Patriarch. He badly miscalculated the rescue fleet’s time of arrival.

  Linden had immediately ordered the crew of the Light Avenger to battle stations and had the ship accelerate to emergency thrust. For a while, they managed to stay ahead of the pursuing Golstar ship, but since then, the other ship was slowly closing the gap. It was only a matter of time before the distance was reduced enough for weapons to become effective.

  Although both ships were similar in class, Linden knew his undermanned crew would stand little chance in a battle against a fully complemented, experienced crew with a newer ship. Even at their best attainable acceleration, the pursuing ship was still closing the gap; Linden did not see how they could make it to a safe, subspace entry point before being fired upon.

  It was too much to bear. Everything went wrong from the start of the mission. First, the unexpected resistance of the Light Saber, then the subsequent escape of the dark-bringer’s ship, after that came the disappearance of outsider’s body and finally, the dark-bringer’s female companion had also vanished. What could have happened to them?

  He shook his head in angry frustration as he now paced the almost deserted bridge. Only the navigation and command stations were occupied. He sent the woman assigned to the communications console back to engineering. As she was an engine technician, he hoped that she could coax some extra thrust out of the reaction drive engines. Others, manning less essential workstations, had been sent to more vital positions throughout the ship.

  His pacing was interrupted by a voice. It was the man at the navigation console. He had called over to Linden that there was an encrypted message coming over from the pursuing ship. Linden stopped, his brow furrowing in puzzlement, then he remembered the communications console had been slaved to navigation. He almost ran over to the man, instead walking calmly, he said, “Let me see it.”

  The man assigned to navigation looked up at Linden. “It just finished decrypting.” He reached over and took a flimsy out of a slot on the console and handed it to Linden without glancing at the words. Linden fumbled with the message, suspecting it was the final ultimatum before his ship was blown apart. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand and started to read it.

  He read through the short message with growing incredulity at the unexpected words. He then reread it. He finally looked up, still grappling with the content of the message. Sadly, he made his decision and activated the ship’s intercom and announced, “This is Linden. I want all weapons stations to stand down immediately.” He stopped a moment, thinking, then added, “You will secure all ship’s weapons. All crewmembers will remove all hand arms and return them to ship’s stores. The Light Avenger will come to a complete stop. Helm, reverse the ship’s attitude for a full retro maneuver, do it now.”

  He stopped talking and was gratified his orders were immediately followed. The vibration quickly diminished then stopped all together. He could imagine the ship’s steering thrusters firing and the ship turning on its axis. He felt the vibration build back as the ship applied its reaction drive engines for braking.

  “I want the engines switched to station-keeping once we have stopped. All hands will prepare for ship-to-ship docking. This is my last order. Do not resist the boarding party. Any crew member violating this order will be shot. Make no hostile move and above all, remain silent.” He looked down at the message, crumpled in his hand. There was no reason to try for escape now. There was no place that they could go; no one who could protect them. Perhaps the revolution would begin, in earnest, before they faced the firing squad. It was a very small hope, but it was all that they had.

  Then he looked up and announced in a horse voice, “The Colonel is dead. Members of his staff and other supporters have been arrested. We are surrendering.”

  CHAPTER 41

  The Grand Patriarch took another sip of brandy and savored the velvet fire of the centuries-old liquor on his pallet. He smiled and raised his crystal snifter in a silent toast. His daughter was safe. Janus Owens was safe. The mutineers were being pursued. His people’s salvation was finally at hand. Soon the humble private i
nvestigator from Confederated Planets would fulfill his greater destiny. He took another appreciative sip.

  A discrete knock at the door intruded on his thoughts. “Come,” he called. The door opened and a tall man in an immaculate uniform stepped through the threshold. He stopped before the Grand Patriarch and crisply snapped his fist to his heart in salute and bowed. The Grand Patriarch inclined his head in acknowledgment. “What is it, Captain?”

  The captain stood at attention and said in clipped tones, “Our ships received the coordinates for your daughter’s location on Selane and a shuttle has been dispatched from the flagship. Your new instructions were acknowledged by Admiral Lender. He will send a confirming transmission when they are completed.”

  “Very good, very good indeed,” the Grand Patriarch smiled. “Thank you, Captain, your news is most welcome. You may take your leave.”

  The captain bowed again, saluted smartly, performed an about-face and left, closing the door behind him. The Grand Patriarch stared at the door and absently took another sip of brandy. With the captain’s last message, the Grand Patriarch finally began to relax in earnest. No further chances were to be taken with Janus Owens’ well-being. Extra precautions were needed to prevent another occurrence, precautions that should have been implemented at the onset.

  He idly reviewed the events leading up to this moment. His thoughts turned rueful. His plan had appeared to unravel almost as soon as Owens had been selected. Some of its apparent failures were by design, his design, known by him alone. Plans within plans, deception was the only way to keep his opponents guessing. Nevertheless, the recent events had forced him to make changes to the plan he had not anticipated. The destruction of the Light Saber and the narrow escape of his daughter and Janus Owens were things he could not have foreseen.

  However, he should have anticipated the recent aberrant actions of the dissidents. Even with his unique intelligence on the membership of the opposition, he underestimated the misguided zeal of rogue individuals. He smiled grimly. The self-proclaimed Leader should have had better control over the Preservers of the Way. But no matter, this Janus Owens possessed an amazing ability to survive and had stymied the opposition yet again. In spite of everything, Janus Owens prevailed. It was quite an amazing turn of events.