Probe

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Probe Page 3

by Eugene Wilson


  Composed 140 years ago by Tosen Ashikalov, Battle of Balinskivor was inspired by the capture and defeat of the fortified city of Balinskivor over 1,000 years previously by Surăvian Warlord Usojovic Zurukevan. A 100-member male choir is singing in harmonious step with the military orchestration. Eight heavily armed sub-atmospheric Surăvian fighter interceptors are flying overhead in tight formation. Parked in neat rows across the field are several lines of sub-atmospheric fighter aircraft. The selothian party is greatly impressed by this grand welcoming ceremony. Quafeira takes note of groups of individuals, in various military uniforms, walking among the aircraft.

  Thanor and Ra’el are standing in awe as well. Finally, the orchestral music and singing dies down. “Again, I humbly welcome you to our great nation of Surăvia. I must apologize for our initial reaction to your approach. We are ever mindful of hostile forces.”

  Prelarian Ilrazean Valmov’s voice sounds faintly mechanical as it emanates from the selothian translators. “We understand your response in this matter,” Aarath begins. “It is fortunate that both our parties were able to resolve this matter peacefully.”

  Ilrazean nods in agreement. “Aarath Suris, if I may please ask, who are these others with you?”

  “I am Quafeira Sibekk,” she begins with lingering nervousness, “The other two standing behind me are Thanor Somars and Ra’el Jendar.”

  “It is not often that we greet alien visitors to our world,” Ilrazean states.

  Suddenly, Quafeira becomes more attentive. “Have you received other alien visitors to your world?” She ignores Aarath’s cautious glance.

  “Most assuredly so!” Valmov replies. “We have received a few alien visitors over the years. I—”

  “Prelarian Valmov, perhaps we can discuss this in a more agreeable setting,” Aarath interrupts. Quafeira becomes incensed.

  “As you wish,” Ilrazean states. “We have much to discuss between our two parties. Please accompany me.”

  Aarath, along with the others, accompany Ilrazean Valmov to a waiting government vehicle parked among various military escort vehicles. The thirty-minute courtesy ride through the capital city of Sovrenka captivates the selothian party. Previously, Surăvian law enforcement officials had been ordered to clear the entire route for the Surăvian military. All four selothians feel that the architectural style of the Surăvian buildings is an art form in itself. Complex multifaceted cylindrical structures with highly detailed surface features seem to defy structural integrity as they stand against the gray overcast sky. For Quafeira, Ilrazean’s previous statement of other alien guest started her thinking. “Could one of those alien guests have been my father?”

  Finally, Ilrazean escorts the selothian party into a residential housing structure located near the outskirts of the city. The two-story, trapezoidal shaped building is some twenty-eight feet high. Accompanied by his subordinates, Ilrazean escorts his guests inside. Once inside, the selothian party sees a living room filled with posh, yet unusual styled furnishings.

  “I sincerely hope that these arrangements are to your liking.” Ilrazean’s smile appears genuine. “There are ample food and supplies here.”

  “You are a most gracious host,” Quafeira tells him with a return smile.

  “As our most honored guest,” Ilrazean continues, “please feel free to move about the city at your leisure. A specially tailored vehicle is at your disposal. Should you wish, one of my subordinates can train you in the use of the vehicle. My superiors are most eager to meet and dine with all of you. I will return soon so that all of you may accompany me to see them. ”

  Central Square

  Supreme Headquarters of the Surăvian Government

  Shandar, 12 Gurron 1589 S.E.

  “What is the situation with our guests?” Morvanyic demands.

  “Great One, as you have ordered, I have placed them in the Beltas district south of the city,” Ilrazean tells him. “I believe that I have earned their trust.” Anapov Grugor Morvanyic is eyeing Ilrazean with cold anger. Morvanyic is certain that the situation is going according to his plan.

  As the Tasurian or supreme leader of the nation of Surăvia, Morvanyic is a principal member of the surabis political ruling party. At 6’4”, the power driven tasurian commands a formidable presence. His thick black and trimmed hair, along with a thick moustache accentuates his burnt orange skin. For various reasons, Morvanyic is hated and feared by many people. After the mysterious disappearance of the previous tasurian, Dalian Korgorny, Morvanyic and two other officials, Yukov Korachov and Josun Survich vied for the vacant position. Behind a facade of unity, Morvanyic used ruthless strategies that made his rivals appear incompetent to the ruling surabis political party. Publicly though, Morvanyic condemned Korachov and Survich as being unfit for rule. Thus, after Morvanyic’s ascension to Tasurian, Korachov and Survich vanished.

  Subsequently, Morvanyic and surabis political party leaders began reversing many of the policies allowed under former Tasurian Korgorny. This policy reversal included many of even relative cultural freedoms, once permitted under Korgorny’s rule, in favor of more repressive policies.

  In subsequent years, Morvanyic embarked on a major campaign of forced labor, brutal repression and political purging to consolidate his power even further. Rebellions and uprisings soon followed. Morvanyic’s reaction was swift and merciless. Protestors were imprisoned, tortured or murdered. Many others simply “disappeared.”

  The ideas and philosophies of the political forefathers under the inspiration of the principal founding forefather Yarev Ulyanov-as surabis political party leaders interprets these policies-became the law of the land. Due to his hatred for a minority religious group called the Genari, Morvanyic wants this group eliminated. Although Ulyanov has been dead for over a century, all educational agencies and institutions, as mandated by the Surăvian government, must teach Ulyanov’s writings and philosophies. “What are their stated intentions?” Morvanyic demands.

  “Great One, they claim that an earlier vessel of theirs made planet fall. This could mean serious trouble. This is our ninth—”

  “Enough! I did not ask for a historical lecture!” Morvanyic yells. “We will deal with these aliens the same way we dealt with the other aliens!”

  “Yes, Great One,” Ilrazean replies fearfully.

  “Do not try my patience again, Ilrazean. You will strictly follow my orders! Do I make myself clear on this?”

  “Yes, most exalted one. By your orders.”

  “Very well. Be sure to treat our alien guests accordingly. Keep them under strict surveillance. I want to know everything about them, their weapons and their orbiting ship.” Ilrazean stands solemn as he is listening.

  “If they possess the technology as I believe they do,” Morvanyic continues, “then this entire planetary system will belong to me.”

  “Yes, Great One.”

  Planet Harcon

  Indigenous Inhabitants: Menosian

  Ushaon, 22 Golameir 1146 M.E.

  The Venquost United Delegations Complex is directly ahead. The pilot adjusts the speed and angle of approach of his air shuttle with his usual expertise. He carefully guides the government craft in and begins a slow descent. The craft touches down on the roof of the 60-floor Acrean General Assembly building. From the roof, the light orange skyline view of the Eusorian capital of Dalbrun is impressive. Eusoria is one of several nations located on the continent of Sinbul located on Harcon’s southern hemisphere. Sinbul is one of eight continents on Harcon.

  Presently, a matter of the utmost urgency has compelled Pratovian Arrak Naluras, Eusoria’s head ruler, to call an emergency session of the rulers of Harcon’s most powerful nations to the Eusorian capital city of Dalbrun. Rulers from these nations have made the arduous trip across thousands of miles. Upon arriving at the Esalis Space Port, they are quickly shuttled to the Venquost United Delegations Complex, which comprises various government buildings including the Sacroan General Assembly building. After the hatch op
ens, Tu’reas Bolkoth, head ruler of the Vendarian government and his military and political aides emerge from the craft and walk toward the entrance ahead of them.

  With eagerness, several Eusorian government officials greet Bolkoth and escort him and his aides toward the entrance. The late afternoon sun is still fifteen degrees above the horizon. The ground temperature is a sweltering 40.5°C (105°F). Bolkoth’s thoughts, however, are on more pressing matters as the lift descends toward the first floor of the air-conditioned Sacroan General Assembly building. Bolkoth is very worried. He has not forgotten the previous war with Akrosia. The 5’8” menosian of light-green skin and medium blue hair cannot help but be highly distrustful of certain Akrosian nations, despite the signing of the Anterian Peace Treaty. Exiting the lift, Bolkoth, his military aides and Eusorian government officials enter a short hallway and walk toward the main conference room.

  Upon entering the huge and highly decorated room, eight other national rulers are already seated at a huge round table greet him. Seated with them are various government and military aides from around the planet. Bolkoth and his aides find their respective seats.

  “I need not remind any of you of the seriousness of this new development,” Daloth Yemill begins. Daloth Yemill is the Emperion or principal ruler of the nation of Talathica, Eusoria’s neighbor to the north. Emperion Yemill feels highly agitated over a serious issue that one of his Akrosian agents had revealed to him.

  “Three days ago,” Emperion Yemill continues, “another vessel of alien origin entered high orbit around Akrosia. This time, unfortunately, Morvanyic and his murderous band of criminals are hosting these aliens.”

  Emperion Lumor Eliasheb, of the nation of Mizraan, voices an immediate solution to the now perceived threat. “I see no problem with this. We can begin by launching a few hundred missiles. Hopefully, three of them will hit Morvanyic’s palace.” A chorus of mild laughter erupts. Pratovian Naluras agrees with Emperion Yemill’s contention. “In all seriousness,” Naluras begins, “I can see where Emperion Yemill is going with this. Morvanyic is after one thing and one thing only. He does not care if he puts his fellow tamorians in danger.”

  Naluras’ implication is quite apparent to everyone else. No one wants another interplanetary war.

  “Who are these aliens?” Karozin Laomer, the Reistor or principal ruler of the nation of Zeboim asks.

  “Reistor Laomer,” Naluras begins, “our skulard agent in Sovrenka indicated that these aliens are called selothians.”

  “These selothians, as you call them,” Emperion Eliashab asks with concern, “what is their purpose on Akrosia?”

  “Emperion Eliashab,” Naluras replies, “at present, we do not know. Of course, the possibility of the Surăvian government forming a military alliance with the government of this alien party is the most likely reason.”

  “Then I can assume that the Falosian government is aware of this alien threat,” Emperion Eliashab says with a fearful tone of voice. “I am certain that Morvanyic will attempt to keep all of this to himself.”

  Up to this point in the discussion, Idris Alawma, the ruling Ja’quann of the nation of Kanuri has said nothing. Standing at five feet and eleven inches, the dark brown-skinned ruler, dressed in the traditional green Shuka robe, is fearful of any military response.

  “I am certain,” Alawma begins, “that Morvanyic is planning some foolhardy venture. I agree with Emperion Eliashab’s assumption that Falosian government officials are already aware of this situation.”

  “Still, we need additional facts,” Emperion Daloth Yemill of the nation of Talathica states. “I refuse to be bound by this impotent treaty while one Akrosian nation is secretly obtaining more powerful alien weaponry.”

  “Before we even think of sending fighter carriers and heavy destroyers to Akrosia,” Ja’quann Alawma protests, “I suggest that we continue to use our agents to gather information about the situation and if the need arises, we will send a delegation to the United Planetary League in Falosia.”

  “And what lies will they tell us this time?” Yemill protests.

  Alawma feels irritated by Emperion Yemill’s constant calls for military action as the only possible solution to a conflict. “Emperion Yemill, with all due respect,” Ja’quann Alawma tells him, “I agree that we should use our most trusted operative to obtain the information that we need on these alien people. His record speaks for itself.”

  “The Settler,” Emperion Yemill recounts.

  “Yes. Despite the risks, there is a very good reason why we signed the Anterian Peace Treaty. This way, both our planetary civilizations will not be obliterated.”

  Chapter 5Boyfriend

  The Clark Residence

  Wednesday, 7 August 1974 (4:00 PM)

  Seated at her desk, Sylvia is engrossed in Deborah Edith Michaels’ The Turbulent Heavens. An introductory page indicates that Deborah, born on October 16, 1892 (originally as Deborah Edith Ryan), to Charles and Lucy Ryan. In 1900, the Ryan family immigrated to America where they settled in Oakland, California. Deborah was eight years old when she set foot in the bustling city.

  Despite her father’s stiff opposition, her interest in astronomy continued growing. She married Howard James Michaels on Saturday, 17 June 1916. Two months later, they moved east to Cambridge, Massachusetts. In time, she enrolled at Radcliffe Women’s College where she majored in astronomy, physics, photography and spectroscopy. Sylvia is utterly amazed as she continues reading about this remarkable woman. Eventually, Deborah is granted access to the Harvard College Observatory, a rarity for women during that era. Deborah’s work in stellar spectra was groundbreaking and phenomenal. Along with the fact that she cataloged over 7,000 stars of various types and classifications, she had published numerous catalogs of variable stars.

  Along with The Turbulent Heavens, she had written a number of other books as well. After scanning through the book, however, Sylvia’s focus falls on Chapter 12, which highlights Deborah’s classification of two stars in particular. The first star had an unusual property, as it seemed to pulsate rapidly. The second star, Deborah observed, turned out to be a nova flare. Interestingly though, the second star had exhibited some unusual behavior. After some forethought, Sylvia goes back over earlier deciphered information regarding Sevaria Zureas. Her galaxy quest for information has become a daunting task.

  Ten minutes later, she is going over the material regarding Quafeira. Several aspects of this entire, yet puzzling situation trouble her, even as the information continually captivates her. Continuing her deciphering from two nights previously, she focuses her attention on the third media article. Slowly, the information reveals that Quafeira is involved in a third legal battle against Tavus-Alverand. In the article, Sylvia has uncovered additional information about this third case. Unlike the first two cases, the results of this third case appear favorably disposed to Quafeira. This case centers on Quafeira’s search for another individual, who turns out to be her father. Sylvia deciphers the date. She gasps. “No way! She can’t be that old! That’s almost ninety years later!”

  Twice, she looks at the date: Anrean, 29 Galdeir 2227 B.E.

  She looks again at the first two cases. The news article indicates that the first two court cases were conducted in the year 2138. Yet, the third article mentions Quafeira as still being active. Sylvia is straining to believe this information. She reasons that even if Quafeira were in her mid-twenties during the first two cases, she would be over a century old by the third case. Going further, she translates the name of Quafeira’s father. “Oh My God!” She yells.

  The Williams Residence

  Wednesday, 7 August 1974 (7:15 PM)

  After two rings, he picks up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Hey! It’s me!”

  David snaps to attention. “Whoa! Hey girl! This is a surprise!”

  “What are you doing right now?”

  “Right now? I’m talking to a very gorgeous young woman.”

  “Hey! You ar
e in a good mood. Look, we need to discuss something real important, that is…after we spend a night out at the Blue Ocean Discothèque. Wanna have some fun with this poor, lonely woman?”

  “Girl, you better stop that before you start giving me heart problems,” he replies, wildly laughing.

  “Well, the first note you slipped in my locker did say that I was the key to your heart.” Her voice is sensuously inviting.

  “That does it! Be ready by eight sharp,” David replies.

  “I’ll be waiting. Bye handsome!”

  The Blue Ocean Discothèque (Ladies’ Night Out)

  Wednesday, 7 August 1974 (8:20 PM)

  From all over east end and other parts of town, patrons have come to the Blue Ocean Discothèque located in downtown Anonwood. As colored ceiling lamps alternately flash, couples are dancing wildly to the hottest soul hits of the day. No wallflowers admitted. Rodney “DJ” Jacobs had set the initial mood by starting out with four heart-pumping, finger-snapping and foot-stomping hits: Express by B.T. Express, Mighty Mighty by Earth Wind and Fire; Funky Nassau by Beginning of the End and Do It Baby by the Miracles.

 

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