by Lee Watts
"I noticed a readout during the chase," Cale answered. "This is the fifth planet of the Acatus system. It's way beyond Realm territory in unclaimed space."
"That's probably why the Ramillie did the ambush here," deduced Marcus. "No witnesses. What'd everybody grab from the ship?" he asked in his rural accent identifying him as from the Realm agricultural world of Groviths.
"I got this scanner," Didymus said.
"Just my pistol," chimed in Payton.
"Me too," added Marcus. "And these power packs." He wore the packs as a bandoleer across his chest.
Alexander shook his head that he had nothing.
Cale tapped his holstered pistol insinuating it was all he possessed. Being in the pilot's seat, Cale was closest to the ship's emergency kit and had taken it. First, to get ashore, he removed the nutrient pills and put them in his pockets. Each capsule contained enough nutrients to replace a full day's worth of meals. While there were only sixty pills, he planned to ration them out for himself and figured he could make them last nearly six months.
The others can starve to death for all I care, he thought, I'm not wasting my best chance of survival on them.
"All I have is this," Merrick said as he drew forward his battlestaff. "Sire, I think you should take half," he said as he handed one part to Alexander.
Tentatively, the prince reached for it tilting his head in puzzlement as the flames died when Merrick released it to Alexander's grip.
"How did…,"
With a wink and a smile, Merrick indicated he would explain later then willed the flames of his own half to extinguish.
"This is simply for cutting through the brush, right? I mean… I'm not really going to need this thing, am I?"
"Best to be prepared - just in case."
"Caedmon taught me a lot of things, but fencing wasn't on the list."
"I'll teach you how to handle the blade."
"So, now what?" Didymus asked.
"Now, we see what, or who is around here."
"Can I have the scanner?" Payton asked Didymus who handed it to him.
Switching the device on, the sergeant checked the area. "Except us, I'm not picking up any human life signs in the immediate area," he announced.
"Switch to energy and comm signals," instructed Merrick.
"Switching...hmmm, no energy... wait, wait, I'm getting something on a comm channel."
Everyone's heart skipped a beat with that news.
"Is it Ramillie?"
"No, it's... it's nothing. I mean, there is a signal being sent, strong too, but it's just dead air. It's not a Ramillie frequency either."
"If we could reach that signal and alter it, we might be able to call for help," Merrick suggested. "How far away is it?"
"I dunno. The scanner gives me a frequency and heading, but not distance."
"I guess it doesn't really matter how far. It's really our only hope of getting off this world."
"WAIT a minute," Cale objected. "We're going to head off on some alien world full of predators, diseases and who knows what to look for some random signal that may not even be on this island in the random hope we can use it to send a message home?"
"Basically," Merrick answered.
"That's crazy! You know how many of us might die on a trip like that? It's too risky."
"If we stay here, none of us will ever leave Acatus V," Merrick pointed out. "So, the risk we take with inaction is far greater than the risk we take with action."
"Face reality," Cale blustered. "We don't-
"The decision is made!" Alexander interjected, ending the debate. "It's our only option, and we're taking it. I'm not just going to sit down and die here. None of us are."
Frustrated, Cale rolled his eyes and shook his head in disgust.
"Think of it this way Cale," Merrick offered, "here's your big chance to get away from it all."
"I don't want to get away from it all," Cale answered sarcastically. "In fact, I want to get back to it as soon as possible."
"This may not turn out all that bad."
"You're one of those annoyingly optimistic people, aren't you?"
"Come now, this might turn out to be a tranquil, friendly planet."
"Merrick… what is your last name anyway?"
"Just Merrick."
"Anyway, there are certain laws of the universe. One of those is you never crash on a friendly planet."
Merrick chuckled, but only because he knew what Cale said was true.
"We'll set up camp and stay here for the night," Merrick said. "See if you can find some sticks we can use for a fire, and maybe some fruit. This is a tropical island after all. We've survived, we have a plan, all we have to do is stay determined and alert, and we'll make it through this."
His words helped to keep everyone focused. As the beleaguered castaways walked off in search of food of fuel Alexander stepped closed to Merrick and spoke in hushed tones.
"Caedmon once said I can trust you more than anyone I'll ever meet. I know my father relied on you for years, so I'm relying on you now. These men keep looking at me as if I have the answers. I'm scared to death right now. I've been studying to head a multi-planetary government, not a small group of people stranded on some jungle island."
"It's the same thing."
"What?"
"My prince, leading these men is the same as leading the Realm. You will have personality conflicts to resolve like dealing with the High Council. You'll have to work out compromises when they're going to want to do things differently as when negotiating a treaty. The time will come when you will have to make some tough decisions on how we are to proceed. These are things a sovereign must do. You'll do fine. The Elder perfectly prepares us for whatever He has for us to do. I believe in you."
"I wished I believed in me more."
"Stay true to what you were taught, and things will turn out exactly as they should."
"The way they should? If I had done what I should have none of this would've happened."
"What are you talking about?"
"The vote," Alexander explained. "The Codex says, The faithful are to lead their people in a new union that will oppose the dark forces. Those who do not… will be removed. It was me. It's my fault. Father was going to leave the Assembly, join the Chinix in a new union, but I abstained from the vote and…" his voice failed him and became only a whisper, "…and we are removed. It was me. Oh, Merrick, it was me! This is my fault. We're all here because of my hesitation, my inaction. What am I going to do?"
Merrick paused for quite a while, before answering.
"Pray," he answered. "Ask the Elder for forgiveness, for help. Let Him have control. He'll see us through."
"Pray? What benefit is that now? Father is dead, we're marooned, and it's my fault."
"You can still find forgiveness. The Codex says, If we confess our errors he is faithful and just to forgive us."
"Absolution won't bring him back, and won't get us or these men back home."
"There is forgiveness, but there are consequences," Merrick replied, echoing words told to Darius years prior.
The thought did little to assuage Alexander's guilt.
"How are you doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"Staying so calm. There's trouble from every side, and you don't seem stressed at all. How do you have such peace?"
"Because I know the master of this wilderness," Merrick answered with gentle wisdom. "Don't despair, He's not lost us. Though I don't understand it, I know we are exactly where we are supposed to be. Trust me, there is a bright and glorious future awaiting."
"I hope you're right. I mean, I know you are. I know the Elder controls everything, but right now, well… things are happening so fast that I… don't know. Father's dead, Lord Canton tried to assassinate me, the Ramillie destroyed the ship, and we're marooned on an island planet with only a slim chance of getting off. It's like the entire world is against me."
Merrick smiled and placed a comforting
hand of the shoulder of his young charge.
"It may seem that way, but be of good courage, Alexander. For greater is He who is in you, than he who is in the world. Now, see if you can help the others."
"Alright."
As Alexander walked off to help gather supplies for the night, Merrick could tell the prince's spirit was darker than their circumstances. Knowing Caedmon taught Alexander to seek the Elder in daily prayer, not only in times of need, Merrick trusted that, after the shock wore off, Alexander would turn from looking inward and would look upward for the answers he sought.
Merrick smiled as he remembered the Holy Codex often told of how the Elder would set someone in a wilderness for a time of refining. Taking solace in the fact everything was part of the Elder's plan, he knew their crash on Acatus V hadn't taken the Elder by surprise. He thanked the Elder for his guidance and asked for help and strength for the many trials they would face. From lifetimes of experience, Merrick knew the trials would be more of the spirit than of survival and more of conquering the will than the wilderness.
As the group finally settled down for the night, Alexander's mind kept wandering to what Merrick mentioned about giving the Elder control of his life. But Alexander didn't feel like praying, and the last thing he wanted was to give away what little control of his life he had left. He knew it wasn't right, but he couldn't deal with it at the moment. Pushing those thoughts aside, Alexander set his plan to a single goal: get off the planet. The Elder had other plans for him.
CHAPTER 13
"To every thing there is a season,… a time of war, and a time of peace." – Ecclesiastes 3:1, 8
"WAR," insisted Councilman Mill from the Realm world of New Enty. In emergency session, following the report of the attack on the Chariot and loss of Darius and Alexander, the High Council of the United Realm debated declaring war on the Chinix Republic.
"We must strike quickly," Mill demanded. "The Chinix are the ones who started this, but we must be the ones to finish it!"
A wave of agreeing comments erupted from many in the royal hall.
"Councilors! Councilors!" shouted the Marquis of Estrada, Nathan Matthews. The handsome young man was the most junior member of the High Council. Reared in the classical mannerisms typical of his native Estrada region on southern Enty, he was a pillar of civility and courtly decorum.
"Let us not act in haste and shed more innocent blood!" he called out.
"Innocent?" Mill shot back. "The Chinix carried out a double assassination; that hardly makes them innocent."
More grumbles of agreement resounded through the chamber.
"This is the time for cool heads," the dark-haired Matthews claimed and extended his arms to quiet the room. "It may be the time to fight, or it may be a time to talk. I believe it prudent we wait until we have more information."
"We have all the information we need," Mill loudly insisted. "We attack!"
"TO WHAT END?" blurted the barrel-chested Admiral Balin, Senior Commanding Officer of the Realm Navy. His words echoed off the towering walls of the royal hall.
He and the army's leader, a dark-skinned man named General Dartaveer, sat on either side of Field Marshall Tulin, supreme commander of Realm military forces. The trio of military men was positioned on the lower level of the hall.
"Would you have us do nothing, Admiral?" angrily retorted Councilman Mill.
"No, Counselor," Balin answered, keeping his cool. "But if we are to commit to war, the military needs to know how we measure accomplishing our mission. By what standard do we measure revenge, Councilor?"
"May I remind you, Admiral, you are here as a courtesy, it is not your place to enter the Council's debate," Mill sneered.
"Councilor," Queen Cheyenne Lyons forcefully interjected, "I am as outraged as anyone. It was my husband and only son who were killed, but the Admiral has a point. We must know what our goal is before committing troops."
"If I may," interjected Field Marshall Tulin. In his mid-fifties and with deep lines etching his gaunt face, the head of the military wore an elaborate uniform dripping with ornamentation.
"Experience shows half efforts only prolong bloodshed. If we are to invade it must be full conquest."
This was met with voices both supporting and rejecting the recommendation from the head of the Realm military. Disorder continued until the elderly Baroness Montay, the senior representative from Celtis Po, rose to speak.
Among the most senior councilors, holding the position as long as anyone could remember, the Baroness was a short woman. She had a mound of white hair piled upon her head and lips continually pursed as if tasting an unripe fruit.
"Highness," she began in her characteristically sharp and condescending tone, "if we do not react it will be seen as a sign of weakness and would draw the attention of those powers looking to expand their territory."
Again, the outspoken Marquis of Estrada sprang to his feet in protest.
"And if this does turn out to be a tragic misunderstanding then we are the ones with the innocent blood on our hands!"
The Council erupted in passionate debate while Queen Cheyenne pondered both possibilities. Eventually, her attention was drawn away by a question posed to the military commanders.
"You're our top naval commander," Councilman Mill said of Admiral Balin, "What is your evaluation? Could we win a war against the Chinix?"
Balin, a stout man with white hair, and full beard, except for his bald chin, hesitated before answering.
"It's difficult to say."
Mill was unimpressed.
"Come now, Admiral. We have fifty core worlds to their twelve. Surely we could overwhelm them."
Balin remained dispassionate in his response.
"We are larger in territory, but not necessarily in strength. The Chinix are isolationist, but we are an open society. That means they know a great deal more about us than we do about them. Plus, no one has engaged them in open warfare for two hundred years. We're only now reaching the level of technology they were at then."
"So, there are unknowns," Mill jeered impatiently. "Get to the point. You're supposed to be the expert. Will we win this war?"
"Knowing the future is for the Elder and His voices. All I have to work with is the now, and for now, I recommend against invasion until more intelligence reports are available."
Clearly displeased with the Navy commander's answer, Mill turned to the army's senior commanding officer.
"And you, General Dartaveer?"
"I agree with the Admiral," he responded in a gravelly voice caused from too many years of barking orders. "We need more information; otherwise we're asking for trouble."
"I don't believe this!" blared the exasperated Councilman. "We have warriors who are unwilling to go to war! What do you think we pay you for?"
"Contrary to popular belief," Balin countered, "soldiers don't start wars - we end them, and I won't order troops to a fight without knowing when I can say, 'mission accomplished' and call them home. For this situation, military involvement may not be needed."
"I disagree," piped in the Field Marshal. "I can't think of a time the military is needed more than responding to such an unprovoked attack. The Realm has one of the largest, best-equipped, most highly-trained military forces in this area of the galaxy. As the Admiral affirmed, the Chinix haven't engaged in a full-scale war for two centuries, but the Realm's had six major engagements in that time. This means we are experienced and battle-tested, and they are not. The Chinix military is virtually asleep. Any advantage they may have through technology we will eventually overcome with superior tactics and numbers. As head of the combined forces of the Realm, let me say our official recommendation is to proceed."
"Thank you, Field Marshal," Mill beamed with great satisfaction. "And I would like to emphasize to the members of this Council since the Chinix attacked us any strike we do would hardly be preemptive. It is purely self-defense."
The hall deteriorated to a disorderly mix of rising voices and temp
ers.
"Enough!" Cheyenne demanded, quieting the room. "We've heard both sides. I'm calling a break for us to consider the matter before voting."
With that, she rose, which caused the rest of the room to stand in reverence to their queen as she proceeded to the chamber behind the thrones. Yilib went to follow, but a shake of her head indicated to her vizier she wanted a few minutes alone.
He bowed and made his way down the corridor behind the royal platform, leading to his opulent, bordering on gaudy, office. Awaiting him was his adult son, Timotheus.
"Father, at last…" Timotheus began, but Yilib shot him a look, and the young man corrected himself. "Sorry, I mean, Holy Mediator." He crossed to Yilib and bowed taking the mediator's hand and kissing it. After the traditional greeting to one of Yilib's high rank in the Sect of the Elder, Timotheus straightened and continued. "You heard what's happened?"
Crossing to a countertop and heating some water, Yilib answered, "Yes, we're discussing it in an emergency session right now."
"Good. This isn't right. It's not what we agreed to. We've got to do something," the young man nervously insisted.
Unflinching, Yilib prepared some tea.
"What we will do, Arbiter is exactly as we have agreed."
"What?"
"Don't presume to question me, Arbiter," Yilib insisted, using Timotheus' Sect title and pouring the steaming water into a cup. "These are difficult times, so we must do what we can to save lives."
"Save lives?"
"Yes," Yilib explained. Following instructions from Duchess Yorin, he began mixing into the tea the first of what would be increasing doses of unique herbs designed to cause a mental breakdown. "The Realm will soon change hands, that much isn't our affair," Yilib detailed. "But other faiths are seeking to supplant the Sect as chief advisor to the crown. So, this simple act not only serves to spare the queen's life but also protects the Sect's position in the Realm."
Yilib stirred until the herbs were well-dissolved and placed the steaming cup and pot onto a tray.
"We must sacrifice for the greater good," he said. Picking up the tray, Yilib headed to the door. "Do you understand?"
