by Adam Peled
“Someone will pay dearly for this!” Bar blazed to the prison commander and put his Roll to him. The cell was empty.
***
Mattoui hadn’t needed to ask for too many favors to enter Rettoul’s cell, and he realized that getting him out wouldn’t require more than a few friendly conversations. In all, hundreds—if not thousands—of government and military galactic personnel had been cadets of the quintet. One of the things Rettoul had insisted on and that others learned from him over time was to always smile and ask “What’s up?” and “How can I help you?” The questions were always asked with the intent and desire to support the cadets. None of the quintet was concerned about his own well-being. Rettoul once said that the cadets received tools for life, rather than weapons of war, and therefore one should give them all the tools for life, not just teach them the secrets of death and battle.
Today, the previous affection showed to the students paid off. All those guarding Rettoul knew the quintet, not only from tales told about them, but as their cadets.
Rettoul strode quickly with supple movements, as if he were cutting the wind, as he walked toward Bar’s Kaiser. Mattoui would wait for him somewhere. He hadn’t caught exactly where from the guard who accompanied him outside. It’s okay, he thought. Mattoui will find me.
The Kaiser was closed, as he expected, but a slap on the hidden peephole opened the instruction screen for him. Rettoul gambled and quickly entered a code. He knew the system had several consecutive login styles and also understood several languages. If he didn’t manage with the code, the second login style was the retina. If the system didn’t respond to that login attempt, there would be a third—a fingerprint, usually of the thumb or the little finger because they were the easiest to scan. But sometimes one of the other fingers was used.
Rettoul had to succeed in first attempt, with the numerical code, and gambled on Bar’s date of birth and the current year. Bar, known for his enormous ego, would certainly define his birthday as the winning number, but the current year was a guess. He’d once heard Bar say that the center of the galaxy at any moment was the point where he was, and it didn’t matter if the planet was as small as a grain of sand. The location, and nothing else, determined the center of the galaxy, and it would be good if everyone recognized this fact. Bar also said that the life of the galaxy was here and now—the galaxy had no history except for the date of his birth and no future except when he arrived. Rettoul remembered the words as if they had been spoken for his ears only.
What could be more symbolic for Bar? he thought and entered the code. The door of the Kaiser was unresponsive.
Rettoul hurried before the system could ask for the code in a different language, since then he wouldn’t have any chance. How would he obtain Bar’s retina? He reordered the numbers from the current year to those of Bar’s birthday. He knew if more than 15 seconds passed between one attempt and another, the system would switch to another language. Rettoul hastened to input the numbers.
The door didn’t open.
Cold sweat covered him as he quickly made a third attempt. After that, the system would lock for 15 minutes with a random code that didn’t include any settings familiar to him. He tried Bar’s date of birth without the year and hit the current year.
The Kaiser door opened.
Of course, he thought, smiling. Bar doesn’t boast about the year, only of the day and month. The year would give away his age, and he wouldn’t want that.
Rettoul rushed inside and locked the door behind him, entering his palm print on the code reader. Now no one could open the Kaiser from outside, even Bar himself. As he turned from the door, something pushed him and a Roll was pressed against his throat. Rettoul didn’t expect anyone to be on the Kaiser, especially since his attempts to open the door hadn’t been met by anyone inside.
“A bit cheeky on your part, isn’t it?” asked a subdued, muffled voice. Rettoul didn’t react, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. An orange internal light was turned on suddenly—one that couldn’t be seen by anyone outside.
“You guys again?” He smiled at Berez, Zoi, and Mattoui. They all wore festive clothes, but their war bags, personal equipment, and weapons leaned to the side.
“Thor was finally able to set a date with agirl from the base, which he’d been trying to do for two months. I told him he was exempt,” Mattoui said.
“Too bad you came,” said Rettoul seriously.
“What do you mean?” Berez didn’t understand. “We’re together, come what may.”
“That’s exactly it, Berez. ‘Come what may’ becomes more serious by the minute. I’m not sure I want you to be involved in this.”
“We’re not involved in anything,” Zoi said. “We are a part, even if you can’t see it.”
“We’re one unit, Rettoul,” said Mattoui.
“These are slogans, my friends,” Rettoul said.
“No! Those are facts. We’re one unit and no one—not even you, Rettoul—can split this unit,” said Berez firmly in an atypical manner.
Rettoul was suddenly filled with love for his friends. He felt he had to continue this journey, despite the fearful moments that discouraged him, but thanks his many good friends, he was able to move forward and not flounder.
“Where are we going?” asked Mattoui, seated at the controls.
“To the coldest place you know,” Rettoul answered.
“What? To Rod Coldor’s heart?” Berez laughed.
“No.” Rettoul laughed with him. “It would be crowded there even if we went one by one. There’s not much space there. In fact, I don’t know if that place exists at all…”
“What place?” Zoi trembled and received a resounding punch on his shoulder from Berez.
***
David didn’t have to invite them in. Their knocks were rapid and determined and the door opened immediately. David looked at the group standing on his doorstep, unsurprised by neither the visit nor the manner in which they came.
“Hello, gentlemen. Hello, Rod Coldor. You are an important guest on the planet, and certainly in my house.” David smiled.
“I didn’t come for a courtesy call. I came to wake you and Sarah up until you beg to go back to bed quickly.”
“I’ve actually had my fill of sleep. I now try to stay awake up as much as possible,” said David, laughing.
Coldor didn’t answer. He looked around nervously and roamed the room as if looking for something. “Where is Sarah?”
“Sarah’s here. Where else would she be?”
Coldor poked his head into the other rooms and found Sarah standing in the kitchen by a small dining table. She didn’t speak—just gave him a penetrating look, as if waiting to hear the purpose of his visit.
“Hello, Sarah,” said Coldor, as if he were someone she’d known for years. “I’m not sure I want to exchange polite words with you today.”
Sarah shrugged.
“I think you know exactly why I’m here.”
Sarah didn’t respond, but David answered from the living room. His relaxed voice belied the fact that Coldor’s men were tying him up. “No, you didn’t come for a courtesy call. We know that, but we don’t quite understand why you’re here.”
“David, I really—but really—don’t want to talk to you now.”
“Why not?” he asked, trying to make things difficult while his legs were being tied. “I don’t have much to talk about, and I think the subject can help us all far more if we discuss it.”
“David, shut up before Sarah becomes a victim of your nonsense.”
“Sarah… Sarah…my love, my heart’s delight. If people…” David continued as if he hadn’t heard Coldor’s threat.
Coldor’s face blazed red and he reached out and grabbed Sarah’s hair. “Surely you remember that this isn’t our first meeting.” Sarah didn’t answer and he continued. “You were about to give birth, and I watched you closely.” She didn’t react and he kept pulling and twisting Sarah’s hair, hurting her.
She bit her lip so as not to cry out in pain.
“I should have killed you the day you gave birth to that scoundrel. Both of you, rather than just bother with the nonsense that satisfied me at the moment.” He twisted Sarah’s hair harder and she couldn’t stifle her cries anymore.
“Sarah!” David called from the living room. “Sarah, darling, don’t worry. Nothing will happen to you. Sarah, love of my life, don’t be afraid. They’re leaving, and I’ll come to you.”
“Yes,” Coldor snarled, “he will perhaps meet you in the other world, and you may as well tell him that there, too, that he’s the father of a scoundrel.” Coldor yanked her hair hard and quickly twisted her head around as if it were a screw. He heard the slight crack of her neck breaking and her head fell forward.
Coldor dropped the body and went out into the living room and kicked the leg of the chair David sat on. “Today more than ever, I tend to leave traces of death everywhere. Don’t force me to do the same here, not even with a corpse in the kitchen.”
David swallowed hard, his eyes filling with tears. He didn’t say a word and only looked reproachfully into the eyes of Coldor, who shifted his gaze out beyond David.
“What do you want?” shouted David. “What do you want?” He wept for the loss of Sarah and detested the man standing in front of him.
“What do I want?” Coldor laughed. “You will live long enough to see and endure what I want. Take him to the shuttle,” he demanded.
***
Not an hour had passed from the moment when Coldor’s Kaiser left the planet to when dozens of Falconite battle shuttles circled Levi’s skies, dropping large packages. No one knew what they were. The Levites couldn’t check what had been ordered to be airlifted to Levi because the packages didn’t stop, and they were very heavy. A commotion broke out when packages were dropped in the residential areas, too, and not just in the huge fields.
Out from the packages burst beasts of prey from Bucha. None of the Levites, nor any residents from the rest of the galaxy, had ever seen so many hungry predators. They were when dormant when they landed, but soon the anesthesia wore off and they got to their feet and began their terrible hunt, not stopping at anything.
The terror evident in the Levites’ eyes knew no bounds. There was nowhere to hide from the starving predators. The scent of people was enough to attract the animals. And they came.
***
The Briskerian palace looked unique, wrapped in a white shroud that covered the entire planet. There was no wind and snow fell slowly, but in sufficient amounts to cover everything. The group watched out the window while the Kaiser hovered in the air. The view was both horrible and electrifying at the same time. They hadn’t yet landed or exited, but it seemed like the silence of death was outside. The huge amount of snow that had fallen over the last day had left the population of Brisker frozen. Everything remained where it had been minutes before the snowstorm hit.
“Aren’t we going to leave the Kaiser?” Zoi asked nervously.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Rettoul replied idly.
“What do you mean?” Mattoui didn’t understand. In fact, it was the first time he doubted Rettoul. “Everything is painted with death outside—admittedly white, but everything death.”
“Not everything,” Rettoul said calmly. His attitude didn’t match the moment.
“Rettoul,” said Berez, “I think we shouldn’t land. The Kaiser will sink and we’ll have a problem getting back and out of here.”
“No problem,” said Rettoul still calmly, as though lost in thought. “Let me out here.”
“And us?” asked Zoi and Berez together.
“You can wait, or you can go on. Do what you want. I have to get out here.”
The Kaiser landed and the four of them got out, protected by coats and wearing masks. Rettoul looked around as if searching for something.
“Do you know what should happen now?” asked Mattoui.
“I’m waiting for a sign. Then we’ll all know,” Rettoul replied.
Zoi looked at Berez. They had the feeling that Rettoul was not quite connected to reality. They swallowed with difficulty and looked anxiously at Mattoui, as if trying to fully understand him.
Orange light suddenly illuminated Brisker’s sky and a powerful sound, like a church bell, rang loudly, disturbing the quiet.
“We have a long way to go,” said Rettoul, beginning to march away. “Whoever wants to come with me should start walking, otherwise you’ll freeze in place. Whoever decides to go or wait in the Kaiser should get going.” He said the last words while striding away.
The group silently followed him in the deep snow. Along the way they discovered that everything alive had frozen. They encountered vehicles with passengers who’d frozen to death inside. Citizens who froze on the highways. From lighted windows that hadn’t been shuttered, they discovered homes where the heat was working, but the occupants froze. Living room, dining room—everything had frozen. Their journey was long and quiet, as there was nothing to say in the huge whiteness. They just hoped to reach the palace before death overtook them.
The palace was even more spectacular up close. Wood carvings decorated the huge walls, highlighting their strength and size. Every wall told a different tale from the galactic stories, clearly carved and understandable to all. The palace dome was unique: they’d never seen one like it. It was positioned atop a huge pillar in the center of the palace and supported a huge glass plate that covered the whole palace and parking area. They couldn’t lower their eyes from the huge dish that blocked out the sky and yet clearly reflected them. It prevented the snow from reaching inside the palace and, indeed, upon entering the gates of the inner courtyard, the ground was completely clear. The beauty of the well-tended gardens amazed them.
In the center of the courtyard was a very high column, the like of which they’d never seen, and finally they spied the huge bell that produced the chime.
The group entered the palace. The air was relatively warm and they gradually removed their coats and earmuffs, gloves, and looked at the rooms they passed. Even inside the palace there was death.
“Something illogical happened here,” said Zoi.
“I thought that since we’ve been together, there’s no logic in anything,” said Mattoui.
“It’s not funny. They didn’t all die of the cold,” Zoi continued.
“That’s quite clear,” Rettoul said casually.
“If we’re already here,” said Mattoui, “we should find dedi the son of Pandor. What do you say, Rettoul?”
“dedi the reason we’re here,” replied Berez.
“No, not for dedi,” rebuked Rettoul. “We’re here for the scrolls, but aclue from dedi would be the one to help us find them.”
“Does anyone know what dedi looks like?” asked Berez while looking at the dead people sprawled at his feet.
“Not exactly,” replied Mattoui. “Of course there are his clothes—his cloak—but we can’t rely on the embroidered cloak. Who knows? Perhaps someone coveted it and took it. There’s his signet ring, which distributes heat and is passed from ruler to ruler. He won’t remove unless it is removed with his finger, and there’s the tattoo on his right elbow.”
“Great signs!” Zoi laughed.
“And don’t forget that he’s a bit chubby,” continued Berez.
“Enough, guys,” said Rettoul. “Be serious. We don’t have much time and it looks like we’re quite vulnerable here. We didn’t die in battle—it would be wrong to die here.”
They all agreed and were silent while they looked for dedi among the corpses. Suddenly Berez called from one of the rooms, “I think you should come.”
dedi lay on his back with his eyes open, the yellow embroidered robe wrapped around his neck. He wore his famous signet ring and a woman lay next to him. Her beauty in life was evident even in death, with jet black hair and her face white, her cheeks flushed, and her long neck made her appear to be a cold, distant princess.
“There you have the famous dedi and his wife, teresa,” said Zoi.
Rettoul reached down and examined dedi's hands. “We should keep looking, because it’s not dedi,” he determined.
“What do you mean?” asked Mattoui.
“dedi is the King of Brisker. dedi doesn’t work, so his hands should be soft and pleasant. The hands of this imposter are the hands of a laborer, and if Berez or Zoi check, they’ll find that he doesn’t have a tattoo on either elbow.”
“So what do we do?” asked Zoi despairingly.
“We keep looking, because someone chose deliberately to mislead us. Maybe that means there are no more scrolls here because someone removed them. And it seems now that someone—not the huge snowfall—is responsible for the death of the planet,” said Rettoul. The silence reigned once more.
They continued to search thoroughly, but found nothing. “We should go to the upper rooms,” said Berez, and they followed his suggestion in silence.
Zoi suddenly called, “Rettoul, Mattoui, come and see what it says here.”
He stood by the wall where a huge picture of the galaxy had been removed. Behind the picture was an indistinct inscription. Rettoul was the only one who could read it, since it was written in Cherka.
“The one with the scar…” Rettoul stopped, but Mattoui surprisingly continued.
“…will lead to the choice. He will lead to unity. The one with the scar is the son of the twelve military leaders.”
Mattoui was astonished to find that he knew Cherka. But it threw them all and they looked at each other. They all knew Rettoul had been chosen long ago, but nevertheless, they were stunned.
“I didn’t know…” muttered Rettoul.
“I know. Neither did I. But we’re apparently far more connected than we realized,” replied Mattoui quietly.
Rettoul stepped forward and touched the letters, his fingers lingering. Suddenly, the wall moved and everyone jumped back. A wide cave opened before them and they went inside. A minute later, they found themselves in front of a closed elevator.
