“Aiy, madret, I am fine.”
Over supper, his father asked where he had been and Nik explained his desire to change guilds. After much explanation and discussion, tears from his mother and loud objections from his father, he finally convinced them. “I feel called by the Gods to this and I must obey the Gods, despite my own reservations.”
His dreams were quiet that night, though Nik was not sure if the change was due to his decision or to the numbing pain in every limb of his body.
Chapter 2
Clues in the Leaves
“That will be all today. You may go study now.” Weary beyond belief, Ian rested back in the chair as Angel gathered her books and datapads. Her constant curious questions forced him to think harder than even the university had challenged him.
A soft voice spoke from the doorway. “Ian, do you have a minute?”
“Yes, Cerato. What can I do for you?”
Gillian entered the small room and closed the door behind Angel. She laid an ancient book on the table before him, the worn cover signifying its age. “How many languages do you know?”
Ian looked from the book back to her. “I’m conversant in three languages and I know a few words of several other languages. But I don’t know your native language.”
Gillian smiled. “Actually you do. My first language was English. I was born on Earth.”
“Ah, yes, I remember that now.” Ian sat up straighter. “Why do you want to know?”
Gillian pushed the book towards him. “Can you read that?”
He opened the book carefully and scanned the scrawled text. “Most of it. I believe this is ancient French. Where did you get this book?”
Instead of answering his question, Gillian took the book, gently flipped a few pages, then handed the book back. “How about this?”
“Ancient German. I’m not as familiar with it.”
Again she flipped a few pages. “And this?”
Ian looked down and scanned several passages. “No. I’m not even sure what language this is.”
“Unless I am wrong, it’s Gaelic.”
“Gaelic? That language hasn’t been used in hundreds of years.”
“Aiy. Do you maybe know of someone who can read it?”
“Doubtful. I have a friend specializing in languages. He might be able to. I could send the book to him.”
“No, the book cannot leave the planet. Would you translate as much as you can? I would like to know what tis in this book. Unfortunately, I never learned any language on Earth other than English.”
Ian gently flipped a few more pages, noticing more French, German, English, and Gaelic passages. “I can try. Why?”
“I’m curious, nothing more. Will you?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you. And please, do not speak about this to anyone else, including Angel. She has too much to think about right now.”
Ian nodded and Gillian left the room, trusting him with her most precious book. If she was correct about the contents of that book, it would confirm her suspicions about the origins of the people on this planet.
Ian closed the book and laid it on the table. He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Teaching Angel should be enough, so why did he take on this extra task? Knowledge. The one thing he had always strived for more of and the one thing that could easily be denied him elsewhere because of his lack of money. But here, knowledge was free. Ian put his glasses back on and resolutely picked the book back up. Gillian must have brought this book from Earth. How else could a book filled with ancient Earth languages end up on a remote planet so far from home?
He set to work on the first passage. Eventually he used the vidphone to access the computer at the university to aid in translating the French text. The passage contained information on the crops and the recent weather. The next passage spoke of the animals to be found and another passage mentioned the native plants. As Ian read more, he realized that he held a record of some early colony, written by many different authors. Intrigued, he began writing the translation into the computer, knowing that Gillian would want to know the entire text. Maybe this contained something about her ancestors. At least it was interesting.
Jason called a few days later, just as Gillian arrived at her office. He dispensed with the usual pleasantries. “Bad news, Gillian.”
“Good morning to you too. Do I want to hear this?”
“Probably not. A young doctor contacted me earlier today from the planet Parrhesia. His people are afflicted with the Sleeping Sickness. He found my paper and wants to know the precise nature of the cure.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Not yet. I asked many questions and he told me that over half the planet is affected. I agreed to transport in with the cure tomorrow.” Jason sighed. “But there is more.”
“More?”
“There is no planet going super nova nearby and the pulse wave is not emanating from the planet itself. It is coming from a nearby planet, one known for an aggressive nature.”
Gillian closed her eyes and sighed. “You have to tell them how to cure the sickness.”
“I know. And,” Jason paused, hating to tell her but knowing he had to. “I suspect the rest of the story will come out. So few races are affected by the pulse wave that . . .”
But Gillian interrupted. “Not unless you have to or they start asking. We need more time. There are still many questions to answer.”
“I know. Is Angel not ready? Is Ian not working out?”
“They are progressing nicely. Actually I was thinking of the How question that we have been researching all these years. We still don’t know that answer.”
“I have a new tip on that that I have a student researching for me. I hope to know more soon.”
“Cure the people and stall as long as you can.”
Jason nodded. “It’s late here. I’d better get some sleep. I have to head to the transporter early.”
“Keep me posted on the Parrhesians. And take care of yourself.”
“I will. I hope this is all revealed soon.”
Gillian smiled grimly and signed off the vidphone. She would research Parrhesia and see who they were. Maybe they would not be related, but somehow, she knew they were. Just as she had always known this day would come.
Early the next morning Jason kissed Morgan. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I just think it is better if I deliver this in person.”
“I know. Just be careful.” Morgan never questioned his loyalty to her or to Gillian and the safety of Llanelyn.
Jason left and headed for the university. He stopped by his office to gather the necessary medical equipment, then hurried to the transporter at the end of the hallway. Several jumps later he arrived on Parrhesia. The young doctor met him at the transporter and escorted him to the few senate members left unaffected. Jason explained the cure and handed over a copy of his paper. Stunned, but satisfied, they allowed him to try the cure on one patient. Roughly ten hours later the patient awoke and the Parrhesians allowed Jason to return home. Wearily he dropped the DNA samples and the results on his desk, then went home and crawled into bed with Morgan.
“And?” she asked sleepily, as he snuggled against her back.
“Confirmed. Same as Llanelyn. I’ll tell Gillian tomorrow.”
Morgan sighed, drew his arm around her and they both fell asleep.
Two days later, the vidphone beeped as Jason arrived at his office. He quickly answered it and promptly stifled a groan when he recognized the caller. Times reporter Ryan Jute was not his favorite person to talk to. “Good morning.”
Ryan smiled his practiced smile. “Good morning Dr. DeWitt. I was hoping you might have time today to talk to me. I understand that your research on the Sleeping Sickness was recently passed to another planet. I wanted to get your take on that.”
“My work is publicly available. I don’t necessarily know who accesses it.”
“My source says you provided this copy pers
onally.” When Jason said nothing, the reporter continued. “Look, we both know that there is more to this story than you’ve ever told anyone. I’m just after the truth.”
Jason made a snap decision. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes at my office today to convince me to give you a statement. Two pm sharp work for you?”
“My crew and I will be there.”
Jason severed the connection and debated the wisdom of what he was about to do. Ryan was one of the few reporters he respected and was the only one who had never sensationalized his articles. Unfortunately, he was also the only one who had never let the issue drop and had called Jason on the omissions more than once. If everything were to come out, then the best person to give an honest report would be Ryan. There just was not time to notify Gillian, as she was asleep now due to the almost twelve-hour time difference.
Jason settled in to catch up on his email, students and faculty first, then the automated messages for university issues and medical advances. Several hours and emails later, he sighed heavily. The automated news bot he had setup yesterday to find anything in the media on the Sleeping Sickness, Llanelyn, or Parrhesia sent in the latest headline from the widely read, and highly sensationalized, Post. Amidst the hyped news on the illness occurring on Parrhesia, the reporter likened it to the Sleeping Sickness and pondered what the cure would be. Time was running out on their secret.
Just before two that afternoon, his assistant knocked on the door and indicated he had a visitor. Jason remained seated and asked her to show Mr. Jute in. She left and he put on his best poker face, forced himself to relax back in his chair, and prepared to perform the best act in his life.
Ryan Jute crossed the room, leaning forward eagerly to offer his hand to Jason, ignoring his camera operator and assistant. “Dr. DeWitt, I’m honored that you decided to meet with me today.”
Jason appraised the man before him, from the dark slacks, to the crisply pressed white shirt and long coat with rounded lapels, ending with the small camera mounted on his right ear, where the closely cropped medium brown hair would not interfere with its operation. A slight graying at his temples provided the only evidence that he was close to Jason in age. “This is the way it will be. You tell me your questions and I’ll tell you if I am willing to answer anything.”
Ryan hesitated only briefly before silently passing his datapad with his questions to Jason. Jason took the pad and scanned the list of questions. The first few were cursory on the current problems being experienced by the Parrhesians. The remaining delved into the past event with Llanelyn very quickly, exactly as Jason expected.
Jason laid the datapad on his desk, then leaned forward, interlacing his fingers over the pad. “Here’s the deal. I will briefly answer the first five questions. Then your crew will leave this office, taking your personal camera with them, and you and I will have a brief discussion. Depending on that discussion, you may or may not have the answers to all your questions.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow in silent query and Jason nodded. That “all” would include the past events and not just those questions on the datapad. “Agreed.” Ryan turned to his crew and gave terse instructions and the camera started rolling quickly. A scant three minutes later, Ryan called cut and ordered his crew to leave. Risking a glance to Jason, he told his crew to return to the Times and he would meet them there later as he handed them his personal camera. They left without a backward glance.
“Ok, doc. Let’s talk.”
Jason pulled his datapad out with the Post article on it and passed it across.
“I saw that this morning. Are you confirming their supposition that this is the Sleeping Sickness?”
Jason did not answer and instead said, “Here’s my deal. I will give you an exclusive interview and answer every question that I can regarding the Parrhesians and Llanelyn and the Sleeping Sickness, however I retain complete editorial control over any resulting written article or book. Also, I will be included on any interviews.”
“So you want total control?”
“Yes. Some of what I will tell you has been protected for reasons that I will explain, but should never be given to the public. You will learn all the sensitive topics, but may not be able to print that information.”
“That’s a lot to ask.”
“There is more here than you realize. Much more than you suspect.”
“Like?”
“Agree first, then I’ll tell you.” When Ryan continued to hesitate, Jason added. “And don’t make me get a court order to silence you forever or go to General Peterson to get the military involved.”
“Which General Peterson?”
“Both.”
Ryan shifted in his seat. “How much more?”
“Thirty-six years of investigation.”
Ryan swallowed hard. “Investigation into what?”
“Are you agreeing?”
“To be perfectly honest, it’s tempting, but I don’t know what I get out of this. How much information? How in detail will the answers be? Who all is involved? How far reaching does this go?”
“Enough information for a published book or two, exclusive rights to all details except what is classified, more involved here than you think, and further reaching than you can imagine.”
Ryan sat back and contemplated the deal. “One more question. Why me?”
“You give the facts without embellishment. This story needs to be told as factual as possible so that the public will understand.” Jason pointed to the Post article. “Sensationalism, suppositions, rumors, and condemnation of the events is not needed.”
“Alright. You have my agreement.”
“In writing. I’ve been burned by handshake agreements with the press in the past.”
Ryan reclaimed his datapad, entered some text, signed it and handed it back to Jason. “Good enough?”
Jason read it and passed it back. “Send it to me now.” Ryan complied and Jason waited until it showed up on his datapad before continuing the conversation.
“Yes, the Parrhesians have the same Sleeping Sickness as once afflicted Llanelyn.” Jason explained the pulse wave and how it affects the human brain. “Basically, the patient is in a permanent REM sleep until the wave is removed.”
“So why all the secrecy? Doesn’t seem that bad.”
“Think weaponization by our enemies. If you could build a device that emanates the pulse wave, then get it inside a human settlement, what happens once you enable the device?”
Ryan nodded. “I see. So how did you help Llanelyn and how are you planning to help the Parrhesians?”
“In Llanelyn’s case, the pulse wave was generated by a star going super nova several light years distant. The wave should actually be gone now. However, Llanelyn has a planetary defense shield. The shield was modulated to block the wave. The Parrhesians have no defense shield, so I have to first find the source of the wave,” Jason said, unwilling to indicate the suppositions the Parrhesians had on their neighbors at this time. “In the meantime, there is a commercially available nanochip that blocks the wave for about a year. That is what we are using to cure the Parrhesians.”
“So it can be easily prevented. That eliminates the need for concern about a weapon.”
Jason shook his head. “Llanelyn has no weapons. Take out their defense shield and invade the sleeping people for easy slaves. What would happen to Earth if such a device was enabled in all the major cities?
“By the way, the solution for Llanelyn should not be published. Or the fact that they don’t have weapons. Their leader has asked that such information never be given out.”
“The Cerato?”
“Yes.”
“So you know the Cerato?”
“She is my sister-in-law.”
Ryan sat back stunned. When he finally found his voice again, “So how much more have you kept secret?”
Jason grinned. “I have a class in a few minutes. I recommend we continue this discussion at a later date. I’m leaving for Parrhesia
again tomorrow with more nanochips, so I will contact you when I get back. Tell your boss that you will have multiple articles on this and to the extent possible, exclusive first rights.”
“So if I write this up, how are you going to review?”
“Send it to me and I’ll mark up and send back. But be warned, if I don’t approve something and it gets published, I have no qualms of terminating the agreement and suing both you and the Times.”
“Understood. I just want to get out the story on the Parrhesian situation as quickly as possible.”
“Give me a day or two and I might be able to get you an interview with them, once I cure the rest of their people.”
On Llanelyn, Nik vidphoned that afternoon to see if Angel wanted to escape. She agreed to a walk again after supper and quickly disconnected.
Nik arrived promptly at eight in the evening and Angel told her family that they would head for the lunch area. But tonight they walked slowly, catching up on events at school as they walked to the other side of the hilltop. Angel settled in the grass and Nik lounged beside her.
“Will you be graduating school with us?” Nik asked.
“Grandmother worked an agreement with the school. As long as I passed a few tests, they would let me graduate.” Angel grinned at him. “After the lessons with Ian, the tests were a breeze.”
“So you’ll be attending the graduation ceremony?”
“I completely forgot about the ceremony.” She paused. “I’m not sure.”
Nik sat up. “Would you like to go with me?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Angel looked up at him. “I’m not sure if they will let me go. But if I can go, I’d love to go with you.” She looked away. “At least you can help to keep everyone’s questions to a minimum.”
“Angel, we are all concerned about you. We haven’t seen that much of you. Believe me, everyone is making wild guesses as to why you suddenly disappeared from school.”
“But I can’t tell them anything yet.”
War of the Innocents Page 4
