The Hand of Grethia: A Space Opera

by Guy Antibes

  ~~~

  Chapter 28

  “I’ve found another data storage area, Merinnia. This looks much more promising than the other rooms we’ve gotten into in the last three weeks,” Jan’s excitement could not be contained. “And this time, it won’t be taxes or shipping records.” Jan looked at the data tabs stored in racks. He found a reading area. He tried a reader. No power. The reader was wired so the power cell in his pocket did him no good. He went back to the racks to see if there were labels describing the contents.

  “This one says ‘tactical storage’” Jan blurted out. As he read more labels, he became more excited. “This is more like it!”

  “There are technical descriptions of portals, information equipment, maps, history... everything.” Jan looked at the shelves. “This is must be a library for some city or agency. He looked for a door, found it and read the title on the door. “Research Room, Sullian Trading” Nodding his head with a grin on his face, he returned to the room.

  “Where are we?” asked Merinnia. “You obviously found out.”

  “We are in a company library, I’d guess. That means much of the knowledge of Grethia could be found here… at least the non-classified stuff. If mercantile offices on Grethia are like my father’s, we have more information than we may ever need. This information is extremely valuable.” Jan exclaimed and relieved their search was over for now.

  “We may not want to duplicate the bombs that destroyed this continent, but we can rebuild the rest of the technology left from the old Grethian civilization! Fosan will be real happy to see this. The readers don’t work, so that means we have no network access. I doubt that any network or infonet exists. We’ll have to transfer this stuff on board ship.”

  Back on the ship, the information on the tabs created more excitement while they spent another day looking through the tabs.

  Jan shouted out. “This tab is information on the Grethian Society and gives us a description of what Sullian Trading thought of Revant. Jan pointed out to Fosan. He pulled another tab out and perused the contents. “And this,” Jan lifted another data tab, “gives us all of the known locations of the Grethian storage sites! The current cities on your continent didn’t exist when the halls were created but did you know there is even a site in Murgrontia? But it’s not close to their capital.”

  Jan spent more time looking at information on the tab. “There are 15 sites in all. They were originally structured as below-ground museums on Revant. This confirms that we knew before, that your little continent was a wildlife preserve. The inhabitants of Grethia went there for vacations in the wild. There were only a few cities, a number of tourist outposts, these museums and a few portal sites. The tab makes no mention of a war or an impending war like the tabs in the lodge hall, but it does mention a political rivalry between an ancient Murgrontia and Jerellia, the two major political powers. Remember when we talked about tolerance? I guess it was all used up.”

  “That doesn’t matter, Diltrant can rule the world with all of this information,” Fosan declared.

  “Why rule the world? You can provide the world with the improvements this information will produce. But rule the world? Why?” Jan countered.

  “Why?” Fosan asked rhetorically, “Because of the great destiny of Diltrant.”

  “Fosan, these are gifts for the whole world. Not a reason to conquer it.” Jan explained. “If the technology is shared, then everyone will benefit,” Jan said fervently.

  “Obviously, you are not in tune with King Obsomil’s wishes or those of his counselors,” Fosan said.

  Counselors,Jan thought.I know Obsomil thinks differently. We need to get back.“It’s time to return. We can’t properly evaluate the tabs with this one reader. We’ve already got active portals in the warehouse and here in the library.” Jan went back to his storage closet with a tote of data tabs. “We can transfer from here and back to fill the ship.” He walked back to his cabin to collect his thoughts.

  Merinnia followed him and closed the door. “Something’s bothering you, Jan. What is it? When Fosan talked about Diltrant ruling the world your face stiffened up. I thought you agreed with my father’s wishes. I thought you were with us.” Merinnia’s eyes glistened. She was obviously a little hurt by Jan’s comments.

  Jan put his hands on Merinnia’s shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. Those eyes, Jan could feel himself being lost in them. These weeks out here with only Merinnia and Fosan. Could he trust his feelings? He certainly recognized his infatuation.

  Shaking off the feeling, he replied, “I think that all of the people should be helped. I don’t believe in suppressing knowledge. If the Grethian priesthood were still in power in Diltrant, your boats wouldn’t be powered. Do you want to replace the priesthood with one of your own? I don’t think your father does.”

  “He doesn’t,” Merinnia said, quietly. Had Jan offended her?

  “Remember our talk about infrastructure a few weeks ago? When all of the resources are available, a society can advance quickly. Suppression has been shown time and again to be a detriment to its people. I’ve seen it in history and it’s how things have worked on Grethia. In a free environment, everyone will prosper, trust me.”

  “Oh Jan. Now I understand. I just didn’t combine the concepts, and I do trust you.” She looked deep into his eyes and kissed him lightly on his lips and went out the door. Jan stood awhile looking at the door. He shook his head and started to dress up in his suit.

  ~~~

  Chapter 29

  The table below the window gallery was twenty feet long and made of the same black glossy stone used in the council room. At the far end, a slightly elevated chair looked out over the table. Obsomil’s chair was simple polished wood and its antiquity was obvious,. The massive carving brought to mind heavy tradition. Wilton sat on one side with two of his aides. Five men sat on the Diltrant side and three men stood behind those seated.

  “We are gathered here this day to negotiate relations with the sovereign state of Murgrontia,” Bloodin said. Titles were stated and protocol followed. Obsomil fidgeted in his seat, anxious to get down to business but he had to wait for half an hour after the men sat down for the talks began in earnest.

  “Sovereignty of the seas is of paramount importance,” began Bloodin. “Diltrant demands that it no longer becomes prey to aggressive attacks by Murgrontian Shark Ships.” Bloodin glared at Lord Wilton. The tension level rose perceptively.

  Obsomil would have to put a stop to Bloodin’s posturing—the man did have grounds, but then so did he. “It is obvious that my people are still unsettled sitting across from the representative of men who have so recently plotted the overthrow my authority and who have even more recently slaughtered Diltrant subjects and subjugated Actobal. Not to mention the past murderers of my people including my father.” Obsomil presented a sardonic smile to Wilton. “I think that perhaps before we continue we should pursue the causes of recent events from your perspective, Lord Wilton. We need to understand Murgrontian motivations for these acts and the motivation for your appearance here, in Diltrant.”

  Now Wilton rose. “My new friends, I want to assure you that the killings of your envoys to King Mulloy of Actobal were not done with my knowledge. King Obsomil, you were already presumed dead, if you remember.” Obsomil looked at Wilton through slitted eyes. Wilton’s men in the forest were stationed there before Obsomil had stolen the Hand. Jan had seen them and verified they were the same men that he saw before Jan had set foot in the palace for the first time. Obsomil said nothing.

  “I don’t know all of the details, but none of my men returned to Murgrontia. I regret that one of them possibly killed Habamil. I understand that your forces killed the murderer. So it appears justice was served.” Wilton shrugged his shoulders and smiled at Bloodin.

  Bloodin nodded, but remained silent. Wilton had more to say and Obsomil leaned forward to hear more. The man was a masterful liar and was in the process of ignoring Obsomil’s question about mo
tivation.

  “I agree with the thoughts in your mind regarding the alliance with Port Alchant. This alliance was set up to keep the trade and shipping lanes more equitable between us. Obviously, the alliance between Port Alchant and Murgrontia has developed into something somewhat more than just trade, but it is truly built upon building a better Grethia. It is my wish to include Diltrant in that alliance.” Wilton fidgeted in his seat and took a sip of water from a goblet in front of him. It was a pause on purpose.

  “My recent evaluation of the situation is that our future, the future of keeping this world growing is an alliance between the real rulers, not involving the priesthood. I know you are the people who have recently seized access to the Grethian priesthood’s gateway capability.” Bloodin started at Wilton’s use of the word ‘seized’. “That was the only real contribution Ichar has made to our activities. Murgrontia does not have the population to occupy the world on its own, nor does Diltrant. I propose that we, together, set up a joint government to accomplish that.”

  Wilton, in all of his deception had just described Obsomil’s thinking as well as he could himself. Perhaps there was something he could make of Wilton’s remarks, but he just couldn’t bring himself to trust the Murgrontian.

  Obsomil rose from his seat. “I will leave you all here to hammer out the treaty details along Wilton’s concepts, which I consider a laudable start. When Jan returns, he and Lord Wilton will develop what Jan calls a ‘strategic plan’ for Grethia.” With that Obsomil left the room.

  ~

  Wilton’s eyes followed Obsomil out of the room and struggled to keep still and endure the affront to his sovereignty. He forced himself to remain with the underlings to discuss the treaties.

  Silence ruled the scene after the king left the room. The characters could have been objects in a painting. Nothing moved or made a sound until that bumbling fool, Bloodin, cleared his throat.

  Bloodin began, “The King’s judgment, I defer to. I support his majesty and look forward to our session here to formalize the wording and agreements to this treaty. The advances we have made in our land have been due to our own work once we were out from under the repressive thumb of the Grethian priesthood. We must insist that such a perspective be built into our agreement.” Wilton could tell that the word ‘agreement’ came from his throat with difficulty.

  “I regret to inform you that,” Wilton was about to explain, “Murgrontia has been deeply involved with the Alchantian High Priesthood. We talk of a revolutionary way of thinking of our world. That is true, but my people will not automatically cast down their Grethian religion.”

  “It was remarkably easy for Diltrant to do so when my grandfather declared the Grethian religion outcast.” Obsomil gently said as he silently re-entered the room, just inside the door.

  Wilton jumped, quite startled that the king had listened in, and then standing, demurred to Obsomil with a bow.

  The king continued, “We shall let the people decide how they would worship and if they wish to join our government. No people will be forced by the tip of a sword, except, possibly, for the priesthood.” Obsomil smiled and left the room again.

  ~~~

  Chapter 30

  The spaceship landed in a forest clearing, but this time, not too far from the capital. The dusk of the evening cast a pinkish light contrasting with the dark blue shadows on the land. Jan left the clearing and returned with horses that had been tended for a month by a nearby woodsman. Fosan had revived enough to hazard a painful horseback ride back to Diltrant. After the disastrous discussion on Diltrantian world domination, Fosan had steadfastly rejected further medical assistance from the autodoc and had barely said a word.

  Jan, still disturbed by his conversation with Fosan, had placed a portal inside his ship in the engine room. The woodsman helped Jan load the rest of the treasures on a cart, covered them up and Jan, Merinnia and Fosan headed for the palace.

  King’s advisors, he thought. It wouldn’t be Bloodin, would it? Jan didn’t want to endure a repeat of his incarceration. At least Merinnia understood his point of view.

  He found his faith in Obsomil a little shaken. His discussions with Obsomil encompassed the same activities of world conquest or world government. Conflicting information always created an unsettled feeling in the back of his mind and Fosan’s perspective ate at his trust.

  As they rode into Diltrant, Jan felt a palpable unease in the city. Obsomil waited for them at the palace gates. He greeted Merinnia first, warmly and openly. The King helped Fosan down from the cart. He left the academic and taking his daughter’s hand began to lead the way into the palace. To Jan, he gave a brief nod.

  Something had changed. Could it be Lord Wilton? He seemed pre-occupied. Perhaps Wilton had poisoned the King’s impression of him? Obsomil’s body language was all wrong. Jan had fantasized about a hero’s welcome, but that didn’t happen.

  A guard came to Jan’s side and led him apart from the others while his thoughts raced. He soon found himself in a meeting room on the other side of the corridor from Obsomil’s council room, facing a man, years older than himself. He was good looking, if a bit gray, with a weathered complexion. He was well built, rather tall, nearly Jan’s height. What struck Jan was that he had the eyes of a bird of prey, cold and calculating. Even though this man might outwardly look friendly or in good humor, Jan could see this man would reveal nothing without purpose. Could this be Lord Wilton? Jan looked him over and put out his hand, “Hello, I’m Jan Smith.” Taking the initiative seemed to reflect Jan’s resolve to get to the heart of this perplexing situation. “And to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

  ~

  Wilton looked at the out-worlder, sizing him up. So this is Jan. He certainly appeared intelligent, but he was so young. Wilton mentally dismissed Jan as influential. His youth disqualified him to be a true player in the coming event, in fact he looked more like a Murgrontian, with his blond hair, than one of Obsomil’s minions. Wilton thought the out-worlder would be some kind of super man, but he wasn’t, after all.

  “I am Lord Wilton of Murgrontia.” Wilton let that fact seep in. “Obsomil and I have negotiated a treaty. Actually, more of an alliance. I have come to realize that, perhaps because of you, I know that Murgrontia cannot prevail.”Flattery will put me in a very superior position with this person as young as this, Wilton thought.

  “Prevail? In what circumstance would Murgrontia prevail? Is there a war that I don’t know about?” Jan said.

  “I didn’t know of you were an off-worlder, until a few days ago. Your background with the gifts of Grethia has accelerated my goal and that of King Obsomil to unite the world. I have pledged the goodwill of the people of Murgrontia to him. We are together at his request. I want an understanding with you. After Obsomil, you and I are the two most powerful men in this world.” Wilton paused again. This was a delicate confrontation. He was certain, that by setting the tone of his new relationship in Obsomil’s organization, he could control Jan as easily as he controlled his own Council, the priests of Alchant and soon, Obsomil himself.

  ~

  Jan was more than a bit startled. Who was this guy? Murgrontia allied with Diltrant? Wilton and his scheming was the only roadblock keeping Obsomil from proceeding with worldwide unification or, in Fosan’s view, domination. What would be Obsomil’s next step? Without any kind of a goal or expectation to attach to plans or scenarios, Jan felt uneasy. Had Obsomil fooled him into thinking that he was for a benign reign?

  “We must discuss our roles, but the alliance is all but agreed upon. The details of our relationship have been held in abeyance until your little trip was finished. I want to present Obsomil with a plan. A plan where you are the keeper of the technology and I am the head of the administration.”

  Jan could see that one coming from the moment he looked into Wilton’s eyes. “And I suppose you will control the release of the technology to the people?”

  “Of course, under the direction of King Obsomil, of
course. Obsomil will coordinate both of our efforts. You develop the kinds of technology we need. You have lived here, you have lived...out there.” Wilton raised his arm out towards the open window. “You know what we do not have. We don’t know what marvels we are missing. The key, as King Obsomil put it, is that we don’t overload the people with more technology than they can take.”

  “The ‘people,’ as you say, need to use some technologies much sooner than later.” Jan paced around the room. “Medicine will be the first. Transportation will be second. The portal system can move not only people but goods as well. The results of trade and people movement will help create a unified people.” Jan explained his concept.

  “No, Jan,” Wilton explained, the condescension dripping from his voice. “Trade will continue as before except that Murgrontia and Diltrant will both have the self-propelled ships. We can’t be too hasty in bringing the Grethian technology to the people. The proliferation of the Grethian gates will only diminish the importance of both the Murgrontian and Diltrantian navies and merchantmen.”

  And just how would that help the people move their produce on the plains? Wilton had it all wrong and he didn’t fool Jan for a minute. It was clear that all he wanted was Diltrant’s engine so his ships could rule the waves again.

  Wilton smiled before continuing. “Medicinal technology will be controlled by the Grethian priesthood. Those are administrative aspects of the technology. Don’t you see the beauty of this? We bind the people to the Grethian priesthood as never before, but this time through service and healing. This will restore the rift throughout Grethia and bring all of the world’s citizens back to the Grethian religion. The loyalty of all subjects will be ensured.”