by Musser, Dale
There was a moment of silence and then Admiral Regeny got to his feet and said, “We salute you all, true heroes of the Federation.” He was joined by Captain Xantaee and followed by everyone in the hall as they rose to their feet. All the military personnel in the room saluted, while the civilians and dignitaries filled the room with reverberating cheers and applause.
The rest of the evening went by quickly. We ate and chatted; and numerous dignitaries came by our table to express their gratitude for our deeds. I looked over at the table where A’Lappe was seated. Several people crowded around him to ask questions about the RMFF shields and cloaking devices. He caught my gaze from the next table, looked at me with a mischievous grin, and blinked his eyes in his odd fashion. Then, true to form, he disappeared from his chair to the amazement of those who had congregated around him.
A few seconds later I heard him whisper, “I’ll see you all back at the NEW ORLEANS. These events sort of bore me.”
I laughed heartily, as I knew without a doubt that he was having the time of his life.
That night when we got back to the NEW ORLEANS, we had barely entered the bedroom before Kala pushed me on the bed and pounced on me, kissing me passionately. “You made me so hot when you made that speech tonight that I wanted to tear your clothing off and make love to you right there,” she said.
“Well, I’m glad to see none of that ardor has worn off,” I grinned, and we began undressing each other and tossing clothing about the room.
I woke up in the morning feeling better than I had in months. I lay there staring at Kala, who appeared to still be asleep; and I tried to grasp fully just how lucky I was to have her – not just her, but everything else. I was the richest man in the universe. I had ships in the sky, estates on the planet, teams of scientists and experts surrounding me, some of the most accomplished and influential people in the Federation as my friends and colleagues, and a galaxy of worlds to explore and help along in their development with the endless wealth at my disposal. But even as I thought of all these wondrous things in my life, I knew none of them held the same meaning for me without Kala in the picture. I got a taste of that fact while Kala was in stasis; and I never wanted to find myself that close to losing her again.
As I lay there on my side, watching her breathe and admiring the way the sheet draped over her body’s curves, she spoke with her eyes still closed. “Why are you staring at me?”
“How do you know I’m staring at you?” I said somewhat amazed.
“Ha,” she said as she opened her eyes and hit me with her pillow, “I can feel your eyes on me,” and she whacked me again with the pillow. I was about to grab her, when suddenly my communicator buzzed. It was Commodore Stonbersa.
“Tibby, I hate to bother you, but the Federation legal team is here and waiting for you to go to Alle Bamma.”
“Oh crap, I completely forgot about it. Tell them we’ll be there in, five – no – make it ten minutes.”
“We’ll be there?” Kala said.
“Yes, dear. You’re coming with me. After all, you are a military attaché trained in such diplomatic matters.”
“Oh, is that why you keep me around?” she said playfully as we both made our way to the shower.
“That, and so I can stare at your lovely bottom,” I replied.
Since the hostilities on the planet were over, I opted for attire that was less military in appearance. I donned a simple pair of slacks made of a durable looking fabric and a short sleeved shirt. The back of the shirt was designed with a thin pocket that covered the entire back area. In the event of rainy weather, which was always likely on Alle Bamma, there was a rain hood and windbreaker that could be pulled from the pouch. Kala took note of my attire and dressed similarly. When we arrived at the transport in the hangar, I sighed, as I saw two dozen troopers and the legal team dressed like they were going to war.
“You’re not going to need all that fire power and attire,” I said.
“Standard attire for a primitive, non-aligned planet,” one of the men said flatly.
I laughed and said, “Okay, let’s do this.”
We boarded the craft and descended to the planet, landing at the same location where I had landed previously. I was not too surprised when dozens of natives appeared around the ship shortly after setting foot on land. The troopers started to react and I said, “At ease, men. These natives are friendly.”
Then I turned and spoke to one of the natives nearest us, “We come to speak to Jnanara.”
“We know, man who speak for Thumumba, Jnanara come. See.” He pointed toward a narrow clearing in the foliage.
Up until this visit I had always seen Jnanara standing or walking on her own; but today she was being carried in a sedan-like chair. In typical native fashion she was naked, save for a woven headband made of some kind of leather with plant fronds stuck into it; and once again, she wore a lei of red flowers about her neck.
When the sedan chair stopped before us, I bowed my head to her and said, “Greetings, Jnanara, woman who speak for children of Thumumba.”
“Greetings, man who speak for Thumumba. Thumumba say you will come this day with men from sky.”
“Excuse me, sir,” said one of the legal team, who had used the learning headband the night before to learn the language in preparation for the meeting, as had everyone else in our party. “What does she mean, Man who speak for Thumumba?
“It’s a long story; I don’t have time to relate it now,” I answered.
“Men from sky come to ask Jnanara, woman who speak for children of Thumumba, names of all crimes committed by evil ones who take sacred plants and bind children. Men from sky also ask punishment for each crime under law of tribes of Sweet Home,” I said.
“Only Thumumba say,” replied Jnanara.
“Thumumba speak for all people of Sweet Home?” asked the legal representative.
“Yes, will of Thumumba for all people. All children listen to word of Thumumba.”
“Well, that makes it simple. All we need to do is talk to this Thumumba person,” the aide said in Federation language.
“Thumumba no speak to you,” continued Jnanara, somehow gathering from the aide’s tone what he had said.
“No? How then we learn wishes and laws of Thumumba?” the aide asked, reverting back to Bammaspeak once more.
“Must speak to man who speak for Thumumba. Thumumba tell him, tell you. Only man who speak for Thumumba speak to Thumumba.”
“Well I guess that will work,” he said in Federation language; then, correcting himself he asked in Bammaspeak, “Where we find man who speak for Thumumba?”
In unison the natives pointed at me as Jnanara said, “He man who speak for Thumumba. He child of Thumumba. She child of Thumumba, too,” she said pointing to Kalana. “Speak to them, hear Thumumba’s will. You go now back to house in sky. Come back tomorrow. Man who speak for Thumumba and mate must come now. Thumumba wait.”
“But wait – you can’t just – First Citizen, what shall we do?”
“Go back to the ship like Jnanara told you and return in the morning. Kala and I will be quite alright, I said laughing.
Suddenly, from out of the foliage the natives produced two more sedan chairs and both Kala and I were instructed to get in. Moments later, we were in a parade procession along a jungle path lined with natives who tossed flowers at us and muttered blessings mingled with Thumumba’s name. Finally, we arrived in a large area blanketed by low grasses and surrounded by I’aban trees. The dense foliage high above in the canopy that covered this area almost created a sense that we had walked into nightfall. Vines hanging from the heights were attached to our chairs and we were pulled up into the trees.
“I hope you’re not afraid of heights,” I said to Kala.
“Not at all,” she said. “This is all rather fun and interesting.”
When we arrived in the canopy, we were led along a large bough and across several rope bridges to a platform in an area open to the sky above.
In the center of the platform was a large nutshell that contained a steadily burning oil flame. Framing the edge of the platform were several smaller bowls also burning oil flames. Jnanara stood in the glow of the central fire, smiling one of the kindest smiles I had ever seen.
As she gazed at us with her unique eyes, she said, “You must take off sky men skins.”
“I’m hoping she means our clothing,” said Kala, as she began to undress. “I’m rather attached to my skin.”
Moments later, we both stood naked before Jnanara. Several native women came to the platform carrying shell bowls filled with various colors of paste-like pigments, with which they began to paint patterns on our bodies.
“Do you know what’s going on?” Kala asked me in Federation language.
“I haven’t got a clue, but I’ll bet it’s related to our dreams.”
When the women were finished applying the pigments to our skin, Jnanara approached us with yet another nutshell bowl. In it she placed a small piece of leaf, after which she slowly poured in water from another shell.
Silently she stirred the mixture with a stick and finally said, “Stick out tongue, man who speak for Thumumba.”
I did so; and very carefully Jnanara placed a drop of the water onto my tongue.
Then she went to Kala and said, “Stick out tongue, child of Thumumba, mate of man who speak for Thumumba.”
Once more Jnanara carefully placed a single drop of the water onto Kala’s tongue.
Then she moved away and said, “Wait here at fire, children of Thumumba. Thumumba come here, speak to you.”
As she spoke, lights and shapes about me began to blur and swirl. I felt Kala take hold of my hand and her fingers interlace with mine. Suddenly, in the midst of the flames I saw Thumumba. He seemed bigger and more powerful than he had in my dreams. He looked at Kala and me and spoke; and it was like the sound of thunder.
“My children,” he said. At the sound of his voice I was flooded with a feeling of love and I felt blessed to be called his child.
“You must protect my children here and protect my world, this place called Sweet Home. Keep it safe from those outside who would come and cause my children harm. It is right that you share the medicines of my world with others who have need for them; but you must not allow the use of the sacred plant for anyone other than my children. This is forbidden. You understand, man who speaks for Thumumba?”
“Yes, I understand,” I answered.
“You understand, woman, child of Thumumba, mate to man who speaks for Thumumba?”
“Yes, I understand,” I heard Kala answer.
“It is good,” said Thumumba, as he held his arms out toward both of us. “Thumumba blesses you. You stay together for always. It is Thumumba’s will. Now you enjoy.”
And with that it seemed like we were transported to another world – a world of bright colors and beautiful sounds, a world in which we could talk to trees and plants, to animals, and to all living things. It was a world in which we were a part of everything and everything was a part of us; and all the while I could feel Kala’s hand in mine and my love for her grow and grow beyond all measure.
At one point we came upon a mossy place surrounded by all sorts of animals. We lay together on the moss, as the animals moved about, telling us of their lives and purposes in Thumumba’s world. Eventually I began to tire. Soon I felt Kala’s head on my shoulder and I realized she had fallen asleep; and then I, too, drifted off into sleep.
When I awoke, it was morning, and I found that Kala and I were lying on a bed of moss in a space beneath the I’aban trees, our clothing laid out neatly beside us, and all traces of the pigments washed from our skins. I nudged Kala who still held my hand.
“Hmmm… What? How did we get here?” she asked.
I laughed and said, “You’ll have to ask Thumumba.”
“But Jnanara said that we can only ask questions of man who speak for Thumumba; and you are man who speak for Thumumba,” she said teasingly. “So how did we get here?”
“Magic,” I said, and she poked me in the arm.
“We’d best get dressed. I think I hear the shuttle descending.”
We had barely gotten our clothes on when the shuttle appeared. I was still pulling my shirt over my head as the craft slowly navigated under the I’aban trees to the site where we had been the day before. The hatch opened and Kerabac appeared around the side. “Anyone need a ride up to the NEW ORLEANS?” he asked with a smile, as Kala and I walked hand-in-hand up to the ship.
It was shortly after midday when we met with the admiral, the High Command and the legal staff. As we entered the conference room, I could hear Admiral Regeny say to one of the legal aides, “So you’re saying that, by law and according to what the natives of Alle Bamma say, Tibby is their spokesman and what he says is law, as far as they are concerned?”
“Yes, sir, that pretty much sums it up. We flew to several locations on the planet and spoke with several native tribes; and everyone we asked said that Thumumba’s wishes are expressed through an individual they refer to as man who speak for Thumumba; and everything they have told us indicates that First Citizen Tibby IS man who speak for Thumumba.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” said the admiral. “So, in other words he has all legal rights to guard the planet with his ships; and he has all legal rights to control who comes and goes to the planet’s surface; and he has all legal rights to pass judgment on anyone who violates it laws?”
“That’s correct, sir,” replied the aide.
Just then the admiral looked up to see Kala and me standing there. He shook his head and said as he laughed, “Without out a doubt, Thibodaux James Renwalt, you are the luckiest man I have ever known.”
And that, my children, is how your mother and I became the guardians of the planet Sweet Home, Alle Bamma.
THE END
of
BOOK 2 – SWEET HOME ALLE BAMMA
COMING IN SUMMER OF 2014
SOLBIDYUM WARS SAGA – BOOK 3 – THE PIRATES OF GOO’WADDLE CANALS
A year has passed since the events at Alle Bamma, where Tibby encountered the Brotherhood while attempting to acquire the ruguain eggs needed to concoct the cure needed for Kala’s recovery from an injury inflicted by a Brotherhood conspirator with a poisoned knife. Tibby and Kala are enjoying life together at their estate on Megelleon, when they receive word that one of the Mirage Fighters Tibby commissioned for construction and loaned to the Federation has been taken in a raid by the Brotherhood rebels. The Admiralty has asked Tibby’s assistance in reclaiming the ship, as it has been taken to a non-Federation planet to be reverse engineered. Because the ship has been taken out of Federation space and Tibby is technically the owner, the Federation cannot go after it, lest it be deemed as an act of war against the planet. Tibby, on the other hand will not be viewed in a harsh a light, whatever his efforts may be to recover or destroy the ship.
Tibby has barely begun his mission to retrieve the stolen Mirage Fighter when word arrives that a solbidyum shipment has been intercepted and taken. It, too, has been removed from of Federation territories and its exact location is unknown; so Tibby and his crew must go undercover on a clandestine mission to find and retrieve the solbidyum. During this mission Kerabac must take on the disguise of a Ruwallie Rasson trader, while Tibby and several of his crew disguise themselves as slaves, in order to move about alien worlds in their attempt to find the solbidyum. But their search is hampered by the Brotherhood, who also seeks the individual who has taken the solbidyum. Matters get worse when it turns out there are more Ruwallie Rasson traders operating in the space around the planet Goo’Waddle, who consider Kerabac to be in violation of their guild rules. The Ruwallie Rasson try to commandeer Kerabac’s ship, slaves and cargo as a penalty for his not having joined their cartel. Rumors are also heard of a new enemy force that has aligned itself with the Brotherhood. The rumors imply that this ally possesses a powerful weapon said to be capable of penetrating the RMFF shields of
the Federation ships.
About the Author
Dale Musser was born in 1944 in a small rural community of Pennsylvania. From 1967 until 2012 he was employed as a structural and piping designer in the industries of marine and offshore resources, cogeneration power and hard rock mining. His work at three shipyards and assignments with several engineering and naval architectural firms during his careers in Virginia, Texas, and Maine, took him to such places as London, U.K., Abu Dhabi, U.A.E., Scotland and Mexico. During this time, he was responsible for the design of reactor compartments for nuclear aircraft carriers and submarines for the U.S. Navy and the structural designs of numerous offshore semi-submersible oil rigs, tanker ships, supply boats, and other vessels and equipment used in the offshore industry. After the death of his wife in 1999, Mr. Musser changed careers and went to work in Arizona and Utah in the hard rock mining industry. He retired in Fall of 2012 and currently resides in Mesa, Arizona; however, his plans for the near future involve a move to New Mexico.
Dale enjoys rock hunting and lapidary work, gourmet cooking, writing, poetry, art, music, religions and philosophy in small doses, astronomy and the sciences in general, hiking, camping, the outdoors and the gifts that nature provides. Mr. Musser is a member of Mensa and remains an avid reader, having lost count of all the books he has read after 3,000.
The greatest joy in his life is his daughter, Heather. Affectionately they call each other “BUBBY.”
Contact Information:
Those wishing to write to Mr. Musser may do so at [email protected]. Although he attempts to answer all correspondence, heavy emails may prevent him from responding to everyone.
