OF CRIMSON INDIGO: TALES OF THE MASTER-BUILDERS

by Grant Fausey

  Trithen Kellnar was an elderly man, wrinkled from age and the habits of an Emperor. The rim of thick creases parted his skin partially covering his eyes. The folds of age, grooved deep into his cheeks, sorting the years into degrees of age like the core of a tree. The Emperor wasn't a happy man and no one was the better for it; only the bountiful dared play in his surroundings. Most of the time, except for a few trusted guards and his faithful attendants, whom he had trusted since his birth the world representative, and founder of the Industries was alone.

  The first representative gazed from a series of large oval windows watching the construction of an enclosure dome––the T.S.C. (Time Step Core). He spoke out as Senator Creed's message formed a projection above a low table in the middle of his throne room. The sounds of Senator John Creed's whining voice reached his ears. "Greetings, First Representative," echoed the Senator's voice.

  "You have done well, Senator," said the Emperor. "I witnessed the experiment by holo–scan. I'm pleased with your progress in this matter, but there's the matter of your cloned counterpart on Trithen. Apparently, there has been an all out assault on that world, which at my instruction ended with planetary devastation devices. I'm sorry to have to be the one to inform you, Senator, but your family is dead. There was nothing I could do. The decision had to be made immediately."

  "I understand, First Representative," replied the Senator with heavy words.

  "Good, then I leave you to your duty on Oceanna." Kellnar cut off the transmission, but stopped. There was an afterthought. "And Senator," he said repeating himself, "...make no mistakes."

  The image of the Senator crumbled, dissolving away as if the Emperor himself had turned off his life. The image went black and disappeared. Kellnar turned back to his view of the station's construction crews, mumbling to himself. His own voice was his only concern; he made sounds uttering his thoughts to himself.

  "I wonder what fettle plans they have begun in there desperation," said the Emperor. "How many worlds are against me?" The Emperor looked around the room, staring at each of his trusted servants. He could feel their shivers of fear, praying he wouldn't ask them to answer. Any question meant instant death, if the Emperor disliked even the tone of the voice. However, this time, Trithen Kellnar wasn't looking for answers, but rather contempt. And when he didn't find it in their faces, he turned and walked out of the throne room. No one would dare answer him. No one.

  • • •

  The barrier station floated majestically among the stars, graced with the poise and beauty only the technocracies could achieve. The station's iridescent surface reflected the surroundings, making it nearly invisible to the eye––a masterful illusion––the perfect hideaway for Trithen Kellnar and his band of rouges. Yet, it wasn't unknown to everyone. A small salvage operation shuttle emerged from a swirling vortex of a future wave corridor that was as bright as any sun, ending its journey across the universe in a silent release of compressed thruster air. The tiny ship slowed, heading toward the station, it's unseen pilot filled with expectations of being taken aboard the city. The transport maneuvered close, its instruments blinded by the mirror-like finish of the station. To the eye, the city appeared to be there but to the inboard computers it was nothing more than an interstellar disturbance created by the threshold of the Nexus––the perfect camouflage.

  Suddenly, the docking facility yawned wide, opening to allow passage beyond the rim. The tiny ship maneuvered sluggishly, passing overhead unnoticed like a thousand vessels before it. However, as the great transport passed into the interior, a huge damaged section revealed itself to the boundaries of outer space. The thin surface torn and scrolled back across its underside, leaving only distorted metals along the bottom half of the fuselage. Finally, the ship disappeared, vanishing beyond the threshold of the station.

  Alexander Cray a slender, handsomely rugged-looking man stood along side of Gem; his innocently beautiful, dark–haired assistant. The elevator ride from the docking facility to the 87th floor of the main tower complex was a swift one, but not fast enough for Gem. She was in the company of Max Treegen, loyal and trusted first citizen of Trithen Kellnar's Industrial Empire. Gem couldn't stand the smell of him. Max Treegen was a sinister–looking fellow; a real villain. His high forehead wore the insignia of the Industries imperial guard-––a genetic engineering feat of the lowest form, but the highest quality. He was a killing machine in no uncertain terms and it was obvious that Alexander was afraid of him. Gem could see it in his eyes.

  She held onto Alex's arm more than she wanted too. She had to hold him up, as well as accompany him. "The station looks good, Max," she announced giving the lead to Alexander.

  "They've done a fine job in a very short time," whimpered Alex. There was a terrible whine in his voice. "Has Trithen Kellnar arrived yet? Our tests can't be delayed. Timing is crucial if were to make the transfer before the end of the month as planned. We have to have these results before sending him anywhere."

  "He's been here for sometime, Doctor. I'll take you to see him as soon as possible. For now, I'll escort you to your offices in the Time Core tower."

  "That will be fine."

  Gem seemed somewhat startled at the fact that Trithen Kellnar was still alive. The thought of him on the station appalled her. "It's a breathtaking view, Max," she interjected, staring out the large oval windows of the elevator. She looked over to Alexander, giving him a look of displeasure that sent shivers up his spin. "I'm only sorry we weren't here sooner."

  Alex breathed a sigh of relief; he couldn't imagine what was going through her mind, but it worried him. She was a very opinionated woman and he knew if she wanted to speak her mind, she would. He just hoped they'd be in a private arena, before she'd open her big mouth. The elevator door slide open and Gem stared out into the connecting corridor. She hadn't asked the question that was really on her mind. She hated Kellnar for what he stood for; what he had done. Most people did. She just didn't want to get caught up in an inquest. There was too much at stake. But of course, she asked. "So," she muttered clumsily, "... how long has Kellnar been here?"

  Max glared at her, said: "That’s none of your business ... understood?"

  Alex stared angrily at her; his adrenaline was pumping at full speed ahead.

  "Be careful what you say here ... or question. You'll stay alive longer."

  "She understands, Max," interrupted Alex. "There's no need for..."

  "Threats?" she snapped!” Gem interrupted again, but this time she was a little more blatant. "I didn't come here to be threatened, Alexander Cray. Where's our cell, or aren't you allowed to tell me that either, Max?"

  Alexander released the elevator door. "This entire station was built for just one reason, charred Max. "To send Trithen Kellnar into another time. And for that reason, it's the Industries most closely kept secret."

  "I just couldn't tell you everything, Gem," interrupted Alexander. "Not and stay alive."

  "You mean this station is some sort of time machine? Do you really expect me to believe that?"

  "Believe me, it's no joke."

  Alexander pressed the button again and the door slid open for a second time. Max stepped off the elevator and held the door. Gem and Alexander followed. "Your office is eighty-seven ten," he said grinding his teeth. He motioned with his hand, gesturing in a less than friendly manner to the door at the end of the hall. "It's this way," he said, handing Alex the computer key. "I'm sure you'll find your stay here quite comfortable, doctor."

  "Thank you, Max," answered Alex. "I'm sure I will."

  The office door slid open, making a hissing sound as it revealed the interior. Trithen Kellnar was standing a few feet inside the apartment. Max acknowledged him with a bow of his head, stepping aside as the First Representative greeted his personal guests with a handshake. "Its good to see you again, Alexander," said Kellnar with a smile. "And this ... this must be Gem. She's as lovely as you've told me."

  Gem managed to grind out a thank you, before hol
ding her breath and putting on a fake smile.

  "The time core will be ready on time, Alexander," said the Emperor. "Tomorrow will see history made anew. The universe will be mine. All because of you and your trusted assistant. You will all be justly rewarded, my friends."

  "Thank you, First Representative."

  "I'll leave it to you to settle in. I'd like an early start in the morning."

  "As you wish, First Representative," answered Alexander.

  Kellnar lifted his fingers toward Max, gesturing for him to accompany him out of the office. The door slid shut and Gem went off like an alarm clock, flying into a fit of rage at Alexander.

  "What did he offer you ... power?" Alexander heard the stress in her voice. She wanted to interrogate him then rip his heart out. "That has to be it," she snapped. "You trader! What do you want to be, the new Emperor? No, don't tell me; you're the one going to the future, right?"

  Gem through a tantrum, ripping off her jacket and pulling it from her arms like she was ready to duke it out with him. Alex wasn't stupid; he knew she was upset, so he backed off staying on the other side of the room from her. But She marched over to the center of the office, waiting for him. "Do you realize," she continued, "once he's used you up, he'll get rid of you?"

  "I won't let him get the chance, Gem. I'm smarter than you're giving me credit for."

  "Right ... and I'm just supposed to let you send that manufactured butcher into our future. Don't you know what he'll do to the children? Think about the coming generations of mankind for once in your life."

  "I am!" squirmed Alexander, sustaining the impact of her words.

  "He'll destroy all that we've created," she screamed, gripping him by the shirt collar. "The Industries will survive. Do you know what that means ... think about what you're doing?"

  "I have, Gem. Kellnar's brain contains all the accumulated knowledge of the company."

  "Yes, but he's been cloned into a thousand parts."

  "If he dies, all that knowledge dies with him. As far as I'm concerned that would be a tragedy."

  "A tragedy! Why you son-of-a–bitch ... what gives you the right to let him live or die?"

  "What gives you the right to kill him? You're the one that wants him dead."

  "You're right I do. I want him dead––him and every one of his clones. I'll do it myself, if I have too." Gem slammed her fists into Alexander's chest and stormed across the room to the door. It slid open, revealing Max and several of his terror guards.

  "I warned you both to be careful of what you say, or question." The guards gripped them by the arms. "Take them away," ordered Max. "The Emperor will deal with them, himself."

  – 28 –

  TIANA STEPPON

  The barrier runner achieved orbit around Oceanna just long enough for its tiny shuttle to drop away from the underside and descend to the surface of the water world. The shimmering plane pivoted sharply, its wings sweeping out to catch the thin air of the atmosphere above the island doted waterways, en route to the iceberg-shaped cities in the distance.

  The shuttle tracked the city's homing beacon, coming to rest on one of the tower's landing platforms. The hatch opened, lowering to form the ramp and Senator Creed waltzed down the gangplank smiling at the guards on the way passed. He was headed straight for the emerald palace. Another fish-faced dignitary waiting to join him at the entrance gestured with an affirmation. "Senator," he said calmly with a bit of gurgling in his voice. "Its good to see you again. This way please."

  Creed stepped lively in front of the fisherman following his gesture. "We have reason to believe someone is guiding the events of the rebellion. And––it's in a fashion we don't even pretend to understand. There's more going on than congregates the appreciation."

  "What are you talking about, Olinna?”

  “My apologies Senator, our dialects are somewhat mismatched.” The Senator stopped at the entrance to the palace, putting a hand on the fisherman's shoulder.

  “What's happened?"

  "I hope we can trust your silence in this matter. We were concerned about your connections with the Emperor, but there's too much at stake … we're in a race for control and time is running out.

  "Fine––you have my sworn oath to secrecy in this matter. Now––what’s going on?"

  "We're not sure if the Industries are behind these plots as a counter measure, or if the truth has reached our ears due to the turmoil. It seems the remainder of the company is in, shall we say, chaos. It's become a real nightmare. Admiral Unusa will give you a complete run down."

  "Fine. Lead the way." The fisherman pulled open the doors to the main lobby, entering the chamber. Senator John Creed looked up; the great hall towered over him by hundreds of feet. Its emerald arches were breathtaking. He had never before seen such splendor, except in the galactic capital itself. This was a direct representation, decorated in the elegance of the old republic. Another fisherman, one with long spindly arms approached them from the opposite side of the room.

  "Senator Creed," said the Olinna. "This is Admiral Unusa, commander of the Third fleet."

  The Admiral gripped the Senator's fingers in a wrap around handshake. Senator John Creed smiled a dignitary's smile, pulling his hand away as quickly as possible. He followed Admiral Unusa's lead, walking with him as they entered the site of the new Senate together. "I wish our first meeting wasn't under such strained circumstances, Senator," gurgled the Admiral. "But I'm glad to meet the human responsible for the plan against the Industries, anyway."

  "Why thank you, Admiral." An intercom beeped on Unusa's wrist and a woman's voice echoed forth from its tiny speaker announcing the arrival of another officer, Tiana Steppon.

  "Ask her to come in, Olinna," stated the Admiral. He turned back to the Senator and continued. "Senator," he said in a brazing voice. "We're sending the explorer vessel Destiny to the threshold of the Netherlands Nexus. Unofficially, the barrier is the home for something called OR567L. As far as we've been able to ascertain, it's a space station of some sort. It's being used to house something called the Time step Core.”

  Senator Creed looked at the Admiral astonished; he was overwhelmed that their intelligence could be so precise. The station was the most closely guarded secret he knew about. He couldn't help but listen to the Admiral with curiosity. "There aren't any records of the damn things construction," continued the Admiral "A as far as we can tell, it's some kind of advanced growth project created by a secret branch of the research and development companies under Industry directives."

  "I see," stated Creed watching a beautiful young blonde haired woman as she enter the Senate chamber through a door directly behind the Admiral. Olinna stood at her side, between two other dignitaries. They approached Senator Creed. "Greetings from the sixth fleet, gentlemen," said the young woman. "It's good to be back on Oceanna."

  "Our greatest solicitations to you, Commander. We're glad to have you here." Unusa's white gums receded, pulling forth a wide grin of acceptance then with an outstretched arm and a gesture of introduction, he turned back to the Senator. "I'd like you to meet the Governor Colonel's daughter, Senator. May I present, Tiana Steppon."

  The Senator's eyes started at her feet and worked their way up to her face. She was a stunning young lady, dressed in tight fitting crimson colored combat armor: The traditional dress of the sixth fleet. She was indeed a sight for anyone's eyes. "Its a pleasure to meet you, miss," he said after his close inspection.

  "Commander.

  “I prefer Commander."

  "By all means, Commander."

  "All right," squawked Unusa. "Its time to get down to business, gentlemen and ladies."

  The Admiral moved to a projection table in the center of the Senate and depressed several buttons on a control council atop the desk. The table began to glow with a dim light, which expanded to fill the center of the room. Unusa smiled at the young commander then turned to the rest of his audience pointing to the center of the projection. A pillar of light beca
me visible in the holographic projection. "Once the sixth fleet is rearmed," said the Admiral. "I'm want you do a recon mission along the edge of the Nexus at this point on the barrier." He pointed to the rim of the projection, bouncing his fist off the edge of the desk. Several computerized coordinates appeared along the edge of the projection, marking the sixth fleet's destination. The image of the pillar changed shifted in brilliance until an image of the barrier station OR567L appeared within the brilliance of the beam of light. "We must locate this station," continued the Admiral. "Its designation is OR567L."

  The Senator loomed over the projection looking at the faces of his adversary: His first thoughts that were not on the rebellion. He was in the confines of a well-organized stingers nest. Somehow the Industries plans had been leaked. But how, because of this interference the future of the universe was at stake. All of mankind was quickly becoming involved in a cover-up of knowledge that would just as quickly implicate him in matters he knew too much about.

  "Gentlemen," said the Senator pensive. "It seems to me that a rapid deployment of a parameter force should be exercised if we want to tip the hand in our favor, otherwise the future course of the rebellion will be dictated on a completely different level."

  "Agreed, Senator," snapped Admiral Anusa. "That's why we so gracefully requested your presence. You see, the Trods deployment in the Eden sector could only mean one thing."

  "And what might that be, Admiral?"

  "Your involvement, Senator," answered the Admiral with a gesture of his hand. "Your involvement."

  Senator Creed looked at the Admiral in horror, but didn't speak. He couldn't, anything else would sign his death warrant. Commander Steppon took a long walk down the center of the Senate and stopped before the Senator. "Steppon to Destiny," she said into her communicator. "All stations secure. Prep for departure

  "All stations secure," announced the deck officer over the intercommunications device. "Standing by for transport."

  Her place as command officer was well respected, and although she had not yet been promoted to her official rank, Tiana Steppon was already the ship's Captain. She felt like a Captain, but only sustained the rank of Commander: A mere formality, awaiting the official paperwork from the Galactic Capital. It was as if she had been cheated, not threatened.