by K R Sanford
“If you’re looking for flies, Captain Clairy, I can assure you there aren’t any,” said the voice.
“There’s it is,” whispered Clairy. “It’s that voice again.”
“What’s that? Did you say something, Captain?”
“How can you assure me?” asked Clairy not turning from the refreshment counter. He continued stirring the coffee. He waited for a sound that might give away her position. It’s his quarry now. She has stepped into his snare.
“Do you want to know how?” She replied.
“Damn,” whispered Clairy. This time, his whisper was quiet enough that his voice could not get detected, or so he thought.
“I beg your pardon,” she said. “Are you swearing?”
Her voice went dead. This is a good sign, he thought. “You answered my question with a question.” In a panic he realized he challenged a disembodied voice. Confrontation in these cases is imminent. He did an about face with such precision and speed the centrifugal force licked over the edge of his coffee cup. The cups inertia raised the coffee up and over onto his shoes. He looked down to make sure. A few drops perhaps, another good sign. Proud of himself he formulated a question but got cut to the quick before he could open his mouth.
“Did I?” she replied. “I don’t recall.”
“I suppose it doesn’t matter now. It was thirty seconds ago.”
“Are you being sarcastic, Captain Clairy?” The emotion in her voice was too personal for Clairy to stand any longer.
“Well, yes I am. Miss, whoever you are.” His reply left a hollow feeling in his chest. “What are ya gonna, do about it?”
The silence was deafening. Clairy decided he would walk this one off.
“I might make a suggestion, if you’re interested,” she said.
“I am,” he replied.
“You would be, Captain?” she asked. “Then step around the first sofa so I can say something.”
With more curiosity than desire, he ventured to the first over stuffed sofa. He spun on his heels more like a dancer than a military officer. His quarry had gotten arrested by the folds in the sofa. It appeared she could not stand to her feet without help. “Well, you look comfortable,” he said. “Are you stuck down there?”
“Yup, can’t move a muscle,” she said pulling the long blonde hair out of her face. “I’m dead on my feet from seventy-two hours of managing rooms. I rented four-hundred seventy-five new housing units. If my ass wasn’t so fat I wouldn’t be stuck like this. I wanted be over next to the observation window watching the universe float bye.”
“Well, you stay right where you are Miss,” said Clairy with a smile that showed his perfect set of white teeth. “You don’t look fat to me. You look very fit, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“I don’t mind. I’m Chris, Chris Thacher, the Environmental Service Contractor assigned to the Eagle.”
“If you were in the military that would make you a Captain or Major,” he replied.
“Interesting,” she said with an edge of sarcasm. “I’m the owner of the company. Would that make me a general?”
“That depends on how many personnel you have under your command. If you have two thousand personnel under your command you could be a Brigadier General.”
"I have twenty people in the company and that’s enough for me. I’m at a comfortable place with the Miller Corporation. If they add another starship, I don’t know. I’ll cross that wormhole when I come to it.”
“I know. I’ve heard the talk. Business personnel have to ware different hats to do their job. So, what’s your suggestion? You said you might have a suggestion.”
“Oh right,” she said straightening her mustard colored jump suit. She sat up and rested her head against a large pillow then continued. With a hand motion she said, “Have a seat.” Her lips were generous and inviting. Her eyes china blue and her skin glowed like satin in the sunlight. She pulled her feet up close to her body to give him room to sit.
He watched her accentuate the curves of her figure. He raised an eyebrow and returned her smile. “Thank you, I don’t mind if I do,” he said. He reached up to take off his hat and discovering it was gone.
“Are you missing something?” Chris asked.
“No, I don’t know, it’s a habit. When I’m nervous I do things without thinking.”
“That’s interesting. Am I making you nervous, Captain?”
“Call me, Tomas.”
“How about Tom?” she replied.
“Tom, yeah that works too,” he said.
“Tom, it is then. Well, Tom, it takes one to know one. You act like you suffer from fatigue. Most of the crew and rescue teams got it also. There’s no time to rest in a crisis. So now we remind everyone to relax. I’m glad to see you here, Tom. So many of our people are out there obsessing on work and running themselves down. They are making mistakes and doing things without thinking. It’s a difficult time.”
“That’s sound advice. My people are finding ways. They’re beginning to decompress. How did you get into the environmental trade?”
“My father,” replied Chris. “I worked for him until he died. I had nothing else going on, so I took over the business. Thacher and Company, Environmental Services, that's what we called it.”
“Hmm” was Tom’s only reply until she saw his expression drift to another place."
“Go get some rest, Tom. You’re getting distracted. We can talk later.”
“I feel like I lost a lover,” he said.
“That was random,” she replied looking at his far-away-eyes. “The Exodus?” she questioned in a subtle tone.
“Yes, but it’s more than that now,” he said.
Chris went silent giving him time to collect his thoughts.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I told myself I would sit up here with a cup of black coffee and watch the stars pass by the observation window. Will you excuse me, Chris? I feel I need to do just that. I’ll catch up to you later, okay?”
“Sure, I’ll be around. Enjoy that coffee. I’m going to finish sinking into this couch then drift into La-La Land,” she said in a low gravelly voice.
“Take care,” he said.
Chris smiled and closed her eyes.
Clairy carried his coffee to the other side of the room. The observation window would occupy his attention, he mused.
The Eagle sailed through a dense array of stars. The closest stars appeared like multi-colored neon streaks. The farthest stars passed in a slow motion along the middle arm of the Milky Way. The hours whiled away. Asteroids and stars came and went until finally Captain Clairy drifted off to sleep. He slipped deeper into sleep by the low pitched rumble of the main engines.
A female’s voice echoed in his ears jarring him into a half sleep. He struggled to recognize the voice. It sounded so familiar; still, he could not place the voice. He opened his eyes. He saw himself stretched out on a brown sofa in front of the observation window.
“Your attention please,” The voice was calm, soothing and familiar. “Oh yes, everyone’s friend,” he said out loud, “The Intercom Lady.” She was a computer generated voice bundled from hospitality programs. At least, that’s what everyone said by Captain Marco own telling. There were some who suspected otherwise. It was only that Marco could not tell the story with a straight face.
“Your attention please, we will be entering the Corsi Star System in thirty minutes.”
One by one the observation room began to fill.
“You can see the outer edge of the solar system,” said a male’s voice.
Clairy sat up. He noticed people swarming in the observation room. Tourists and workman came to see the Corsi Solar System for the first time. His own people milled around enjoying a beverage and familiar company. Security staff’ in groups interviewed the passengers. “Odd,” he thought.
He saw Chris in her orange jumpsuit heading his way. He reached up his hand and made a silent finger snapping motion. Something he learned from Captain
Marco. It worked. She turned her head in his direction and pursed her lips. He smiled. She looked around the room then returned him a business like nod. Something was going on, he thought. A general uncertainty was in the air; he could feel it now.
He motioned for her to sit with to him on the sofa. “Please,” he said. “Sit with me.”
Chris’s face lit up. “Thanks,” she said then sat on the edge of the sofa. She looked out at the corona of asteroids looming larger and larger on the viewer. “The Corsi Solar System has its magic, they say, and powers. It’s how the solar system forms.”
“Yes,” said Clairy. “I’ve heard the stories. The whole solar system is turning like a wheel. It’s moving forward round inside the outer arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. So the trajectory moves like a spiral along the outer arm of the galaxy. The center of the Corsi Star has its independent power core for the star system, like an engine. The inner planets surround the dynamo. It has eleven planets and their moons making up the inner wheel of the system. The Corsi Star System is going round. Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel, never ending or beginning on an ever-spinning reel.”
“Like the circles that you find in the windmills of your mind,” said Chris.
“Right you are, Chris. Earth’s solar system is also a dynamo, like it says in the famous song that dates back more than a thousand years.”
“So, Tom, how did the writer of that song know about star systems at the time he wrote it?”
Clairy shook his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. “I guess he’s got the magic too.”
“Makes me wonder,” said Chris.
“Yes, and it makes me wonder what scuttlebutt is going around. Have you noticed? The crew is talking up something?”
“The crew is always talking up something. They need to have something brewing,” said Chris. “But this time, yes. I overheard the techs talk about starships orbiting Ameda, military starships.”
“That’s interesting,” replied Clairy. “Chris, would you care to join me on a trip to the bridge? It might be nothing but I’d like to find out what’s going on.”
“Sure, that sounds like a good idea,” said Chris.
Chapter 4
______________________________________________________
AMEDA
The king was in the counting-house counting out his money,
The queen was in the parlor eating bread and honey,
The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes,
Along came a blackbird and snipped off her nose.
−Mother Goose, may date back as the 16th century
Captain Clairy and Chris Thacher entered the glass antechamber. Commander Majors was orchestrating the ship’s systems. Hector Blackstone was at weapon control. Ensign Chew was at communications. A holograph projection of the Corsi Star System was hovering above the game station. Ambassador Gaff was hovering at Hector shoulder in a cool blue hue.
“All steady, Miss Chew,” said Ryan.
“Aye, Commander,” she replied.
Ryan waved Clairy and Chris on to the bridge. The transparent blast door hissed and slid open. They entered the theater-in-the-round. They took a seat in the bleachers and watched the projection of the Corsi Star System.
Chris leaned in to Clairy’s shoulder, “What are the blue lights around the ninth planet?”
“Ameda?” replied Clairy. “I don’t know, I’ll ask.”
Ryan, anticipating the question about the blue lights, replied. “The Intersteller Forces are here. Chris, half the division along with General Hodges’ flagship are in orbit.”
“What does this mean,” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “There is concern among the passengers but no alarm. With Colonel Stiller’s people, there is a business as usual attitude. In a few hours we will be close enough to make contact. Until then, we will observe our Prime Directive and mind our own business as usual.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow but did not smile. “We will hold back for our security to check things out; then we will see.” Ryan found his smile once again, “It's a precaution,” he said. “I’m smiling because no one in their right mind will go up against a Type III civilization. The Amedans are a Type III and the Emperor Legion is a Type IV.”
“Let’s hope no one loses their perspective,” rejoined Chris.
“Yes,” retorted Clairy. “The General needs to remind Kiterage about perspective.”
“That’s not a bad idea, Tomas,” replied Ryan.
“You think it’s my duty to bring charges without completing an investigation?” said Clairy.
“By all means, complete your investigation,” replied Ryan. “Only remember, someone has blown apart a battle cruiser. This act has terrorized the inhabitants in the Middle Corridor.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that, Commander,” said Clairy.
“My apologies, Tomas,” replied Ryan. “There are others who will want to weigh in on this event and do so with prejudice.”
“No doubt,” said Clairy. “I am going to take Chris to the cafeteria. We’ll talk more about this after I check-in with whoever is in charge of these ships orbiting Ameda. ”
“Good luck, Tomas,” said Ryan.
Tomas and Chris made an uneventful retreat from the bridge. Moments later they stood inside the foyer leading to the casino and cafeteria. “You hungry?” asked Tomas.
“Starved” said Chris.
The cafeteria was an indoor tropical patio. The high-back leather booths and plush floral carpeting was elegant. The glazed ceiling lights came from a burlesque hall on Hollywood's Sunset Strip.
“Oh my God,” said Chris in her deep gravelly voice, “Will you look at the size of that flower, and the pistil. This carpeting, wow, I could have sex on this shag right here and now. What-da-ya say,
Tom, wanna give it a go, a little ray-say tay-say behind that palm tree over there?”
Tomas, trying his best not to choke from the words coming out of Chris’s mouth said, “How’s this booth, dear?”
Chris leaned into Tom’s shoulder and whispered, “You can touch me under the table if you want too.” She sat and made circles with her hips as she worked her way across to the end of the booth. She waited for Tom to follow. She folded her hands on the table with a seductive grin.
“Can I get you something cold to drink?” he said.
“This is a cafeteria,” replied Chris. “We go to the buffet and pick up whatever we want. But first we turn on this table light so they know the booth belongs to someone.”
“I was a guest here some time ago. Someone took care of things like for us,” he said.
“Where did you eat the last four days?”
“The Captain’s table on deck three,” he replied.
“Wow, fancy,” said Chris.
“Security was tight, that’s why,” he replied.
“No, I understand. News travels fast onboard ship,” she continued. “And you have people missing still.”
“Yes, a state of emergency isolated us for a while,” he said.
“Are you ready to look at the buffet?” she asked.
“Yes, that sounds refreshing, let’s go check it out,” he replied.
* * * *
The bridge stirred with activity.
“You might want to look at this, Sir.”
“Will you interpret that for me, Miss Chew?” said Ryan.
“A shuttle from General Hodge’s flagship is entering Amedan atmosphere.”
“Do you have a heading for the shuttle?” asked Ryan.
“Sir, I have it. Their heading is Shrine Lake Village. They will land at the castle.”
“Hmm,” replied Ryan.
Ensign Chew raised her chin. “Sir, another transmission has come in. It’s from the castle. King Devin has issued a formal Order of Attendance. Shall I read it?”
“Go ahead Miss Chew,” said Ryan.
Ensign Chew adjusted her screen. “You and your party are here-by Ordered t
o Attend the Shrine Lake Castle Banquet.” The lettering is really fancy, Sir.”
“Duly noted Miss Chew; keep reading.”
“Festival will start at Noon. Dinner will be from six until eight. The Formal Shrine Lake Ball will begin at nine and conclude at midnight. It’s signed King Devin of Shrine Lake Castle.”
“Cool,” said Ryan. “Since we have orders to attend, Miss Chew, post a copy of that outside the cafeteria. Formal; well, I’ll ask Vito to bring his security. Call Captain Clary and the Colonel. Let Ambassador Gaff know what’s going on.”
“Anything else, Sir?” asked Chew.
“Yes, let me know when you have that complete.” Ryan stepped from the command station. He walked over to weapons. Hector was pointing at a place on the map outside Shrine Lake Village. “What’s up?” he said.
“Marco will rendezvous with you and your party here tomorrow,” whispered Hector.
“I know the place. That’s the Boyer’s old property, what time?” replied Ryan.
“He didn’t say exactly, only that he will let us know in the morning,” said Hector. “He and Chief Spierd are on their way to the Arches of the Amedans to meet with the Council.”
“Oh, wow,” said Ryan. “I can’t wait to see a view-back of that.”
“Yes, it is impressive,” replied Hector.
Captain Marco Miller’s shuttle was racing five hundred feet above the salt flats. The sun was high. They could see the pools that would fill with Marillian fisherman after the sun went down. Chief Spierd and Shanna strapped themselves in their flight seats. They flew out to sea. They turned back into shore to align with the tunnel entrance. The entrance to the underground city came closer and closer. Marco slowed the shuttle. He executed a bank to prepare for approach into the mouth of the entrance. The guidance synchronized and locked onto the launch tube. The seventy-five mile flight to The City under the Mountains had begun.
Marco’s shuttle reached the end of the main launch tube then came to rest on a flat stone platform. The platform was at the foot of a series of high rock steps. The steps loomed high overhead. They revealed openings to fabricated structures and smaller launch tubes.
