Teramar: The Gathering Night

by Thomas Michael Murray

  While the Capet insurgency patiently chipped away at Uriah military assets, the other prong to their strategy - removing the head of the snake - remained mired in a difficult mud. Since the failed attempt on the queen’s person, the royal schedule became a carefully curated affair, closing ranks around her majesty. Frustrated at their inability to turn the tide of the rebellion, the king’s forces could only hope that simple endurance would eventually rule the day.

  Lord Alimar suspected others within the Uriah establishment shared his reasoned sympathies. On the base itself, however, Alimar was besieged by blind obedience. He could not possibly confide to anyone there. These missions to visit Titus then were the only opportunity to speak frankly. Alimar relished the chance to unburden a heavy conscience. But each visit was always too brief. Just when he felt the old roots of friendship run green again, he would invariably have to slip back across enemy lines. The Uriah military encampment lay just beyond the walls that guarded Carpinia. As the day’s shadows began to lengthen, Alimar knew it was high time he returned to his own people. He hated the idea of going back. Life among the clan was no life where they existed to pay service to the queen and her mad brother. Quietly, the two lions finished their meal. Since fresh food had become scarce, both men carefully relished each bite. Delicious spices helped the grilled fish jump off the plate and into their mouths.

  As the Lord Commander of the Uriah forces on Remus, Alimar had made many tours of this once beautiful world. The king’s home used to be a veritable garden that produced much of the kingdom’s finest wine. Sadly, the planet was scorched earth now due to the guns in space. The capital, however, remained secure thanks to new shields. Naturally, the city’s streets swelled with an exasperated cast of refugees. Severe rationing was in place. The Capet high command anticipated a long siege.

  During these reunions, a bittersweet mood descended upon the two men. Each missed the other’s company – although neither would admit that to the other. Rich discussion was a reminder of better days. Thick as a tree, Alimar pushed himself up. “Ah, that was delicious.” He yawned and stretched his trunk of an arm, now completely healed from the failed assassination. The late lunch was a chance for a bit of quiet.

  Titus was almost asleep producing a light snoring sound. He nodded to himself and then incoherently mumbled something. The sweet smell of flowers was comforting - a jarring counterpoint to the realities of the day. Alimar took another sip of the wine and then used voice to rouse his companion. The Uriah lord general was ready for a final word. “Titus, we’re at a stalemate. Livia and that bastard brother have you in this box, while they freely rule the rest of the empire. The Capet insurgency has had some affect but really it’s not enough to change anything.”

  Titus yawned. Slowly, signs of life surfaced on what could have been a child’s face. He yawned again. The short nap still had the best of him. Complaining to his old friend, the aging prince replied, “Alimar, do we have to discuss this now. A moment of peace please.”

  “You were always the spoiled, younger brother, Titus.” Lord Alimar pushed, “Once they find Hadrian, the king will be finished. Informants tell me the princess is also near death in that horrible gulag. Interrogators rape the poor girl on a daily basis.”

  Reference to his niece pulled the prince to full attention. “Your clan is a pack of honor-less barbarians, Alimar. And, that queen is an abomination. Her insatiable appetites are an embarrassment to all the great houses.”

  Both men grimaced. The thought of Livia frolicking with her hairless paramours was indeed grotesque. Alimar added, “Last year, she pursued my Sineas, but he managed to dodge the woman’s advances without incurring royal ill-will. Saving her life from flying razor plates infused tolerance in our queen.” Alimar suppressed a belch and continued, “I heard even old Metak was once a target. I’m sure Livia heard the rumor.” Both chuckled good-naturedly.

  The friends fell into a comfortable silence again. They enjoyed the quiet as much as the talk. Still, Alimar was restless. “Titus,” he said. “I should return to our base before they notice my absence. Can we make a quick review about what we decided today? Nothing can be physically recorded.” He pointed to his forehead.

  “Of course, Alimar. I do have one more question. Have any of your surveillance teams seen anything of my Alexander since he left for deep space with what remained of our fleet?”

  “I’m glad you ran him off. You needed to save those ships.”

  “Abandoning Remus was an obvious decision, but it wasn’t obvious for him.”

  “Aghhh. To be headstrong and young.” The two men smiled fully knowing that at one time they too complained about the senior men.

  “As to Alexander and your ships, we do know he successfully made the jump to hyperspace after a brief but fierce battle.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Now Titus, this is for your ears only. Only a handful of people know this piece of it. If word got out I would immediately be seen as the source.”

  “Yes, Alimar. You can trust me.” There was a twinge of annoyance on the prince’s face that said, “Haven’t I kept your secrets all this while?”

  “First let me ask, did Alexander have access to Prince Hadrian’s location?”

  “He is my son. He did have that.”

  Alimar continued, “Soon after the queen’s armada departed Teramar to fetch our prince, the Uriah flagship - equipped with the most advanced surveillance technology - noticed something, or rather noticed another ship or ships, tacking to the same coordinates. If this is indeed Alexander, your son appears to be falling behind. Admiral Metak will most certainly arrive at earth before Alexander.”

  Titus said, “My son commands older transport ships which explains the slower progress. I wonder if Alexander even sees the Uriah Armada on his long range scans. As you know, we’ve intercepted a dated message from the prince’s computer. Hadrian intends to remain on earth and will engage the Uriah battle group in deep space despite a directive from his father to return home.” The king’s brother was obviously aggravated by this news.

  Alimar answered, “We always had the two plans, Titus. That starship, the prince commands, is a remarkable piece of technology. With Alexander’s assistance, he might have more than a fighting chance. There will be no opportunity for Admiral Metak to call up reinforcements light years from Teramar. Unfortunately, it appears Alexander won’t arrive in time. Your son should leave the slower ships behind.”

  “My boy is a sentimental fool. I sent him such orders without a response.”

  Years’ outdoors left deep lines on each man’s face. Titus winced from an old wound. He growled, “I wish the prince would forgo this earth battle and return to our system with that warship. He is well liked throughout the army. The clans would flock to our banner.”

  Alimar interrupted, “But you can’t deny that boy is a little odd. Yes, he is a great combatant on the field, but I say he has a sliver of a woman in him. The long hair he’s made fashionable. The smooth face. The friendships. And, he enters music contests as often as the saber games.” Alimar pulled on his beard as if to prove the thought.

  “Ah. You are too critical,” said Titus. “He’s still a boy. Hadrian has bested the finest swords in the public games. The army respects him even with the eccentricities. In fact, they love him for it. He’s honest and earnest - maybe a bit too egalitarian. Still, the men appreciate the prince’s refreshing approach to life.”

  A mile up, a sortie of Uriah hoovers navigated round the city’s defenses. Even through the dense foliage, the two men could make out the black shapes slowly flying over and then yawing back.

  Titus growled, “I think the bastards know I am here having a lovely late lunch.” Without a word, both men leapt from their couches and dove through the adjacent doors. Two butterfly bombs, tiny devices that were designed to penetrate the city’s shields, twirled into the courtyard and thereafter ignited a billowing fire that licked the door in the same second it slammed shut. Wit
h the city’s shields firmly in place, only these old-style devices could flutter down and detonate these pinpricks.

  The two friends first appeared startled and then they both heartily laughed at their good fortune.

  “How many times have you and I escaped a certain death?”

  “This must be a good omen,” smiled the king’s brother.

  Homeward Bound

  The hover pushed off from Atossa and moved like a quiet bullet through earth’s atmosphere. Inside, young men sat in comfortable command chairs watching a halo-report of Jessica’s conversation with the President of the United States. “She blasted a hole through the White House,” Shayne uttered in disbelief?

  “A small one. If you have overwhelming military strength, we were taught to immediately present one’s hand. Your leaders need to see what our technology can do. No one was hurt. Your President Truman did something similar to end World War II with that horrible atom bomb of yours. Tens of thousands perished to save hundreds of thousands.”

  “Don’t say of yours. That bomb was not mine,” answered an irritated Shayne. “My ancestors were shining shoes and sitting in the back of buses then.”

  Unfortunately, Shayne’s slouch told everything. “He pushed to come with me,” Hadrian angrily thought. The hover lurched slightly. There was a storm brewing over the eastern seaboard. The prince touched the control panel and the ship responded banking right. Hadrian then hit the panel again and the ship cut at a deeper angle toward the surface. Wisps of atmosphere started to buffet the hover but gravity stabilizers kept the ride smooth except for an odd bump. Earth’s atmosphere was far easier to navigate than the thick vegetation-ladened-ring round Teramar. The dome quickly became engulfed in white.

  For someone who could handle the relentless pressure of professional sports, Shayne looked as if he was about to cry. Hadrian struck a softer note, “I know you’ve had a lot to process.”

  “You’re all right, Hadrian.”

  “The unforgivable part to this whole story is how we led my mother’s people here.”

  Jessica smoothly interrupted, “My lord, more accurately, I alone relayed our coordinates to the Uriah high command.” The computer wanted the facts to be clearly presented to this Shayne Wight. The misunderstandings that brewed between the two of them were exhausting.

  “She’s right,” said Shayne. And you didn’t consciously choose to come to earth. Jessica brought you here in one of those tanks you just showed me.” The athlete opened his eyes with another question. “There is something else I need to know… about this cowboy culture on Teramar. I knew a few killers in my old hood back home. They’re all in jail now. I want to know if you’re in the same club as those guys.”

  Staring at his feet, the prince replied, “They trained us, Shayne. People got hurt.”

  “Answer the question.” The athlete’s face was hard. He wanted everything out on the table.

  “Give me a second.” The prince carefully chose his next words. He started softly, “My old nurse, a grown man, who was also an arena champion in the saber game, used to tell a story. We don’t have a book like your bible. We have these few stories that easily bend to whoever is telling the tale. A very convenient practice. This one starts with two young warriors, brothers in fact. On one fine day, they trot into the forest to forage food. They hunt for days and are unable to catch even one animal. The woods are devoid of living things as if by magic. Worse, the two could not find the return path back to the great house. Days pass and they are starving. The oldest begins to fear they will ultimately perish when no Termarian male ever dies in the wood. Exhausted, the older brother lies on the forest floor - shaking. Concerned, the younger boy approaches. As he leans over, the older one savagely cuts his sibling with the long knife. That evening, he then roasts the fresh meat over a fire, eagerly consuming his brother’s flesh.”

  Shayne wore an appalled expression. “You did not just tell me that story?”

  “Horrifying, right?”

  “Yeah, I get it. You come from some jungle planet. Are you going to answer the question?”

  “I am answering the question. My nurse was making this point. He wanted me to understand that self-preservation is the first law of nature. And on my world that can include the killing of your brother. My people can be animals.”

  “I guess I’m talking to one.” Shayne purposely looked out the dome.

  “During the escape from Teramar, I killed three men. They were palace guards on my mother’s side. My friend and mentor also died that same day or he would be with us now. Yes, there’s a big difference between learning to kill and actually killing someone. I only recently did the later.”

  Shayne nodded his head. The discussion was over. Outside the hover's dome, the White House slid into view. Softly, Hadrian added, “My people are not me, Shayne. Living on earth these months, I see the better way. Yes, your planet has many selfish madmen in its midst. But taking the long view, earth moves forward, while Teramar only seems to go backwards… Should we get ready?”

  “Sure.” Eyes met that said, “Let’s do this.”

  Outside, Jessica had already taken stock of the grounds. She saw secret service people on the roof. There was also a large contingent of U.S. military securing the metal fence round the White House compound. The public had started to mass and was pushing hard against the soldiers.

  “Your highness, you have forty of earth’s minutes to prepare for your meeting. Please, let’s get moving.”

  “We are already getting ready,” shouted the prince from a hot shower.

  The Admiral’s Cabin

  The queen’s armada edged through the great arc of space and time. The uncountable distance made their progress appear to be a snail’s pace, when in fact they were traveling at incredible speeds. While Teramarian scientists certainly knew how to build these miraculous machines that traveled faster than light itself, they in truth barely understood how the phenomena actually occurred.

  On ship these many months - and left to ponder much, Admiral Metak considered if he, a great hero of the state, could actually survive these miserable times - even after providing this great service to the family. Many senior figures disappeared without a trace along with their immediate families. While the monarchy mustered a vastly superior fleet to Prince Hadrian’s now infamous ghost ship, Metak believed their forecast for an easy victory was unreliable. The Uriah high command notoriously avoided difficult conversations. The royal censors diligently suppressed the reports that reflected poorly on the people in charge.

  As they closed on earth, Metak regularly caught himself lost in frivolous daydreams, mostly memories of his serene estate on Teramar and the company of his eldest daughter. Normally, the admiral would never admit that he missed anyone or anything. Metak’s job was all for projecting confidence and authority. Thankfully, he had that roll memorized. “The key is to not speak at all. Keep your mouth shut and they will think you are strong and wise.”

  The last time the admiral took shore leave; father and daughter had an opportunity to rekindle an old friendship. The admiral had forgotten what it was like to actually engage in a conversation versus the acerbic orders that normally fell from his mouth. Throughout that rare sabbatical, the two hunted the great forest. They took long walks round the extensive grounds. She was always amusing, honest and understood the unique and dangerous predicament of public life. She also forgave him for all the crimes he had committed in the line of duty. His wife, on the other hand, forever avoided her husband, something that was easy to do in the grand house he owned.

  Coming from lesser family, Metak exceeded his parents’ ambitions when he quickly rose through the ranks of the military. His superiors praised him for a thoughtful, logical approach to war as compared to his more emotional counterparts. Of course, this mission to find Prince Hadrian presented an enormous challenge. They had to capture the prince alive, and yet the boy was no fool. The ingenious methods with which he dismantled other warriors in the ar
ena were a certain insight into his ability. The prince had a keen sense for timing and for when to press his advantage. His scrappy escape from the home world demonstrated this true grit. In truth, Metak admired the boy. “He will be ready for us. There is no doubt about that.”

  Although the admiral’s rank entitled him to a full apartment on ship, Metak opted for a small, simple cabin. He unconsciously adorned the space with smiling images of his progeny. A modern command console sat on a large antique desk. The color of the wood reminded him of Teramar. A full bathroom lay at the other end of the room.

  Even if this mission proved to be a success, Metak saw no end to the conflict between the families. Remus remained a volatile situation and Prince Hadrian would forever be a difficult captive. The young man would always be plotting. Plotting his revenge just as the Uriah plotted their revenge over the years. The queen had no plan to push the kingdom out of this cycle of violence, while her boot was feeling less heavy with every passing day. Metak knew his survival depended on getting out of the headlights. Exhausted by these thoughts that were forever spinning through his head, the admiral rose from the desk. Past time he head to the bridge and do his job.

  The ship’s command center was teaming with activity. Appearing the calm bastion of authority, the admiral moved to his personal console that sat atop the bridge like a podium. He was flanked by two aids.