by Renee Duke
The old woman’s gratitude was profound. After Beom had escorted her to her hovel on the edge of the forest, she promised to give him a token of her esteem within the next three days. Noting the old woman’s ragged clothing and gnarled hands, Beom nodded graciously and went off expecting nothing fancier than a home-made pie. But three days later, she turned up at his father’s castle and presented one of the servants with a small object wrapped in a cloth. The servant took it to Beom, who found the cloth held a solid oritin ring that was inlaid with precious jewels fashioned to look like the head of a taiskel. Embroidered on the cloth were the words, Whosoever holds this ring, holds the crown. Puzzled as to how such an obviously impoverished old crone could have come by such a beautiful, and valuable, ring, Beom immediately set off for the old woman’s hovel.
He never found it. Nor did he, or anyone else, ever see the old woman again. Shortly afterwards, Beom inherited his father’s section of Cholar and took up the traditional royal pastime of gaining control of the whole planet. Scorning the violent methods employed by others, he invited all the other contenders to his castle for peace talks. Whether drawn by curiosity or just the chance to dispose of a few rivals, they all came. They even listened to Beom’s suggestion that they put aside their differences and choose a Supreme Ruler to whom all other rulers would swear allegiance. Some rulers were amused by the proposal, others perplexed, and still others, indignant. But by the time the peace talks ended, Beom had convinced them all that Cholar could only prosper and become strong if everyone worked together under one ruler and that he, Beom, was the ideal person for the job.
The other rulers agreed to become Sub-Rulers and serve on his Supreme Council. A few years later, a secondary council of publicly elected officials called the Crown Council was added to keep the whole Supreme Council in touch with the common people. Each and every person who served on the Supreme Council had to swear allegiance to Beom on the ring the old woman had bestowed on him, and swift misfortune befell all those who plotted against him after doing so. It took only a few droughts, floods, plagues, peasant uprisings, and inexplicable accidents to convince the Cholarian nobility—and the common people—of the omnipotence of Beom’s ring. His descendants have ruled Cholar ever since and all oaths sworn upon that ring are regarded as sacred.
The current sovereign, High Prince Taziol, was already Cholar’s legal ruler, but could not officially take the title of Supreme Ruler until his coronation, which tradition dictated had to be held on the anniversary of Beom’s coronation, and was not due to take place for another three or four months. At that time, Oaths of Loyalty would have to be sworn to him and since the Ring of Beom was required for that, it was only going to be on display for the first three days of the exhibit. When the High Prince returned to Cholar, it would be going with him, and an exact copy put in its place. We felt privileged to be among those who could say they had seen the genuine article, but didn’t think the millions of visitors yet to come would feel too cheated. As far as we could tell, there wasn’t much difference between the real sacred ring and some of the better quality replicas available.
The exhibit attracted even more people on the second day than it had on the first. Exhausted from serving customers, and temporarily weary of the treasures as well, Jip, Kirsty and I took our mid-morning break at a snack bar outside the central display rooms. Just as we arrived, three large tour groups swept into the area, and we were almost trampled by eager exhibition-goers seeking the quickest way to the main displays.
Two other off-duty vendors were also caught in their path.
“At least they’re not looking to buy from us while we’re on a break,” a Heltigan girl muttered as two stout Delveckian females elbowed her aside.
“I don’t think they’re even aware of us,” I said, grabbing hold of Kirsty to retain my balance.
The tour groups streamed past, anxious to see as many of the treasures as they could. Companies offering the exhibit as part of a city-wide itinerary rarely gave people time to view the whole thing. The guides received commissions from other places in Heltig, and didn’t want the operators of those attractions to feel as though the alien exhibit was taking precedence.
Flattening ourselves against a wall, we were forced to endure numerous pokes and shoves. But then I saw something that made me forget my discomfort.
“What is it?” asked Kirsty, seeing me stiffen. “Someone land on your toe?”
“That boy. The one standing beside that display of ceremonial goblets and platters. Can you see him?”
Being quite tall, Kirsty had no trouble seeing through the crowd. She quickly spotted the child who’d caught my attention. “Aye, I see him. He looks a lot like Simon, doesn’t he?”
“With good reason. It is Simon.”
Kirsty looked again and shook her head. “Och, I’ll admit there’s quite a resemblance, but—”
“I tell you, it’s Simon. In addition to his facial features and personal mannerisms, with which, being his sister, I am all too familiar, I happen to recognize that blue shorts set he’s wearing.”
“Crivvens,” said Kirsty, employing one of her favourite ethnic expressions.
As soon as the tour groups had gone by, we plunged into the remaining crowd and manoeuvered our way across to the boy. He saw us coming, but I succeeded in grabbing him by the shoulder before he could move away.
“Simon Lyall Brent, what are you doing here?”
“Looking at some old dishes,” my brother replied, wriggling out of my grasp with practiced skill.
I resisted the urge to shake, strike, or otherwise hurt him. “I was referring to what you were doing on Heltiga. You’re supposed to be on Yerth.”
“So are you.”
“How did you get here?”
“Same way you did. On a ship. Except, I didn’t buy a passage. That’s just a waste of money when you can stow away on a freighter for nothing.”
“A freighter?” Kirsty echoed. “What would you want to be stowing away on a freighter for? Why did you not just get on that Yerth-bound passenger ship like you were supposed to?”
“Why didn’t you?” he countered. “I’m only doing what you’re doing—trying to see something of other worlds without interference from that old harpy, Bromley.”
“Interference?” I cried. “You’ve guaranteed us all kinds of interference, you brat. Kirsty and I are old enough to look after ourselves. Our guardians might not have filed a runaway report on just us. With you on the loose, they’re sure to have taken some kind of action.”
“Doubt it,” Simon replied. “No one knows we’re missing. I wiped out all of Mrs. Bromley’s star-comms from the next booth.”
Kirsty and I looked at him in awe. We knew it was possible to accidentally, or even, deliberately, interfere with the transmission of star-comms. It just hadn’t occurred to us to try it.
“What if they get another one from her later on?” I inquired.
“They won’t. I know our guardian’s star-comm intake code. I hacked into their home systems and programmed their receivers to delete any star-comms that came in from Mrs. Bromley and/or her edu-tour company.”
“Simon, that’s illegal!”
He smirked. “I checked Jorthoan law. If the order’s ever traced to me, I’m too young to prosecute.”
“What about our non-appearance on that ship that was heading for Yerth? Our message told you to say we’d decided to stay on Jorthoa. If none of us got aboard, they would have paged us, and—”
“They only page people on the passenger list. We weren’t. You see, I figured you were going to light out too, so after I finished wiping the star-comms, I just hacked into the ship’s records and deleted all our names. As to getting me to say you’d decided to stay on Jorthoa… Honestly, Meda! Did it not once occur to you that someone like Mrs. Bromley would never have let us travel on that ship without putting us under some kind of supervision? We were on its unaccompanied minors list, too, and if I hadn’t taken us off that as well
, officials on Jorthoa would have been hunting for us almost right away.”
Having never met Simon before, Jip seemed torn between admiration and apprehension. “He appears to have thought of everything,” she said.
“He usually does when he wants to keep people from meddling with him,” Kirsty informed her.
“They won’t be meddling with you now either,” said Simon. “You’re free to go travelling by yourselves, and would be well advised to let me to do likewise.”
I gave a derisive snort. “No way. You’re staying with us. You’ll be a perfect nuisance, but you’re too young to go traipsing around a whole star system on your own.”
“I’ve managed to get this far. In fact, it was mostly due to me that any of us got this far.”
“He’s got a point there,” Kirsty admitted.
“So have I. Clever, conniving, and appallingly versed in criminal techniques though he may be, he’s still only a little boy. He could run into all kinds of trouble.”
“Such as?” Simon wanted to know.
“Such as having no money to live on. The way you hoard the stuff, you probably started out with more than we did, but your funds will eventually run out, and then what will you do? You’re too young to get a job.”
“Is that so? Well, for your information, I already have a job. I got it my first day here. I run errands for those two guys over by the sceptres.”
I looked to where two dishevelled-looking youths with unkempt hair and quick, furtive eyes were assessing the contents of a cabinet filled with jewel-encrusted state sceptres. They were well in their teens, and had Simon not told me they were the sons of the AUP security chief in charge of the Cholarian exhibit, I would have classified them as escapees from a juvenile detention facility. He said they’d been in a freight yard in Heltig when he arrived there with some cargo from the ship he had stowed away on. They had spotted him trying to sneak out of the yard and, after talking to him for a bit, engaged him as some sort of messenger boy. They apparently fancied the high life, and liked to impress people with statements like, “Oh, we’ll just have young Simon run and fetch that.”
His smile held a touch of condescension. “The work’s not hard, and the pay is good. Probably twice what you’re getting.”
The urge to slap him became stronger.
“That’s fine for here. What about somewhere else?”
“Same deal. The guys want to go travelling too. We’re interested in a lot of the same places you are, so I might cross paths with you again sometime. If not, I’ll see you on Yerth a few months from now. If we work it right, we might even get our parents to believe we’ve been with Mrs. Bromley the whole time.” With that, he winked conspiratorially and disappeared into the crowd.
“Simon. Simon, you little wretch, come back here!”
We tried to follow him, but it was impossible. A fresh batch of tourists was pushing its way through to the treasures and we were all shunted off in different directions. By the time we regrouped, Simon and his companions had gone.
Chapter Five
Our break was not long enough to permit an all-out search for Simon. We looked for him off and on throughout the day as we scurried about hawking info-cards and directories, but did not catch as much as a glimpse of him.
“He’s keeping oot of oor way,” Kirsty said as I passed by her and muttered something uncomplimentary about my brother. “Now he knows we work here he’ll probably not come near the place again.”
“Hah. I’m surprised he hasn’t popped up six times just to annoy us.”
“Aye, well, he hasn’t, and we can hardly scour the city for him. We know he’s here. Question is, what are we going to do aboot it? That’s what we’ll have to discuss after the exhibit closes tonight.”
I thought about it all afternoon. Unfortunately, I could only come up with one solution, which I shared with the others as soon as we got up to our room.
“I know this sounds awful,” I said, sitting down on my cot, “but we’re going to have to turn Simon into the authorities.”
“We canna do that!”
“We have to. We can’t let him rattle around a strange city on his own. And I certainly don’t intend to let him carry out his plan of visiting other planets by himself.”
“He’s not going to be by himself. He said he was going with those two older laddies.”
“I know. I didn’t like the look of them. I don’t think they’re suitable companions for him. Or anyone,” I added, with a shudder.
“Och, they canna help their looks. Besides, we’ve oorselves to think aboot. If we turn Simon in, he’ll turn us in. And then where will we be? Back on Yerth explaining things to oor guardians, that’s where.”
“He doesn’t have to know it was us. We could tell our supervisor we’ve seen a small boy wandering around the exhibit unsupervised and let her report it. Once he’s back on Yerth, our guardians are sure to contact Mrs. Bromley and find out we’re missing too, but that can’t be helped. We’ll still have a good lead on anyone who tries to come after us.”
“Meda is right,” said Jip, joining the argument. Like me, she was the oldest of her family. She could understand how I felt. Simon and Arlyne were my responsibility. They always had been. I knew Arlyne was currently safe, and probably even happy, with Mrs. Bromley. I had to know Simon was safe too, even if he wasn’t very happy.
Unable to overcome our combined protective instincts, Kirsty finally agreed to let me report Simon to someone. “But we should wait until after work tomorrow, and be thinking of moving on to another planet right sharp before he can betray us in return,” she warned. “Which could pose a bit of a problem since we dinna have enough money to book oorselves a passage anywhere.”
“Simon stowed away on a freighter. Maybe we could do that too.”
But the very next day, a much more attractive means of transport came our way. Just after our lunch break, two young crewmen from the Derridus stopped to buy an info-card from me. Their names were Craig Putnam and Waldo Brown, and since I had no other customers clamouring for my wares just then, I struck up a conversation with them.
“I’m surprised you’re still interested in the treasures,” I said, handing Waldo his purchase. “Weren’t you able to view them aboard your ship?”
“They were all in crates.” Waldo was a slightly built boy with light brown hair and a solemn countenance.
“And our first concern had to be for the comfort and safety of the High Prince and his entourage,” said Craig. Stockier than Waldo, he had darker hair and a somewhat livelier look about him.
“Did you get to meet the High Prince?”
Kirsty, Jip, and I had been too busy preparing for the onslaught of customers to catch as much as a glimpse of Cholar’s new ruler at the opening of the exhibit.
“Meet him?” scoffed Craig. “We’re two of his bodyguards, aren’t we, Waldo?”
“Really?” I was impressed. Waldo and Craig were only a few years older than we were. Providing top-level royal security was a pretty hefty responsibility. “That must keep you on your toes. I’ve heard there’s a dissident faction on Cholar that doesn’t want Prince Taziol to become Supreme Ruler. There are even rumours that assassins have been hired to do away with him before he can be crowned. Have there actually been any attempts?”
“One or two. Waldo here foiled the last one.”
Waldo seemed embarrassed by this disclosure, so I changed the subject. “What’s the High Prince like?”
“He’s a nice guy.” Craig smiled. “Say, we don’t have to go back to the ship until tonight. Why don’t you come out for supper with us and let us tell you all about him?”
“I can’t. I’m travelling with two other girls and I’m meeting them for supper.”
“Bring them along. We like to be surrounded by pretty girls, don’t we, Waldo?”
Waldo nodded. Against such shameless flattery I could hardly refuse their invitation. After work, I dutifully reported Simon to a child welfare work
er, and salved my conscience by telling myself it was for his own good. I then rounded up Jip and Kirsty and took them down to the main entrance to meet our unexpected dinner dates.
The boys took us to an elegant restaurant across town and treated us to an assortment of scrumptious Heltigan dishes. We enjoyed the fancy meal almost as much as their thrilling account of the Derridus’s trip to Heltiga. They told us the crew had been on constant alert for space pirates eager to get their hands on the Cholarian treasures, and assassins eager to get their hands on the Cholarian High Prince.
“With the date of the Prince’s coronation drawing ever nearer, we’ll have to guard him even more closely,” said Craig.
Their lives seemed so glamorous and exciting, we were afraid our own might sound tame in comparison. When pressed to tell them about ourselves, we carefully omitted anything we thought might make us sound young and immature, such as our weeks with Mrs. Bromley, and Jip’s time with her father’s archeological dig. Having future travel plans gave us a measure of sophistication, however, and we discussed those quite freely.
“Travelling around so many unfamiliar worlds seems like a pretty big undertaking for girls your age,” Waldo said doubtfully. “What do your parents think about it?”
“They did not object,” Jip said vaguely.
The boys didn’t ask for further details. Perhaps they were used to Vorlans.
“Where do you go next?” Craig inquired.
I sighed. “Nowhere. At least, not yet. We don’t have enough money.”
“What about Gethev? That’s where we’ll be heading tomorrow. High Prince Taziol is scheduled to make a one day visit there before he goes back to Cholar.”
