Reformation (16 page)

Tomal looked on
as Tonwen sat at his table atop the steps leading into St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna, Austria.  The city had an inordinately large population of disgustingly wealthy families due to the high demands for salt found in the nearby mines.

At the bottom of the church steps stood a long line of lavishly adorned citizens wishing to ask questions about their financial contributions to the church.  The funds necessary to support the production and distribution of a vaccine for the plague had long since been accomplished
, yet Tonwen continued the fund raising with more enthusiasm than ever before.

Half the proceeds were sent to the Vatican to support the latest addition to St. Peters Basilica.  Nearly all of the rest went to Archbishop Leonhard von
Keutschach to fund yet another ring of defensive walls around his already impenetrable fortress lording over his city of Salzburg like Zeus on Mt. Olympus.  Only a small fraction of the proceeds were going to support the well-being of society.

“My sister lost her son to the plague,” a middle aged woman wearing jewelry expensive enough to have funded the vaccine distribution program all on its own explained to Tonwen.  “The child was only four month
s old and was never baptized; I fear for his eternal soul.  Is there anything I can do on my nephew’s behalf to earn him a place in heaven?”

“Why of course there is my child,” Tonwen began with his most conciliatory voice.  By now he was well practiced in knowing what tone to strike with people to wring the most
coin out of them.  Tonwen grasped a large wooden box resting beside him on the table with a miniature statue on top of the Virgin Mary holding the baby Jesus in her arms.  He moved it in front of the woman.

“As soon as the gold in the casket rings; the rescued soul to heaven springs,” Tonwen declared and slapped the wooden box two times with his
right hand prompting the woman to open her purse and deposit a hand full of gold coins into the coffer.

“Rest easy my child,” Tonwen said while laying a
hand of blessing upon her head and then dismissing her to the side so that he might fleece the next gullible fool.

Next
, a man wearing fine robes that reached all the way down to his ankles stood across the table from Tonwen, mustering a laughable attempt at a contrite expression.  “Bless me father for I am in need of forgiveness.”

“What is your sin my child?”

“I have committed adultery with the younger sister of my wife,” the man admitted.

Tonwen glanced toward the wooden coffer.  “That
is a grievous offense against God and his commandments.”

“Will thirty pieces of silver absolve me of this sin so that I may still know the bless
ings of heaven in the afterlife?”

“What?
” Tonwen protested and looked to take great offense.  “Do you mistake me for Judas?  Thirty pieces of silver?”

The man quickly adjusted his
offer.  “Five gold pieces then?”

Tonwen tapped the coffer with his
right hand while making the sign of the cross in the air between them with his left.  “May God’s many blessings fall upon you.”

Five heavy clinks in the coffer later the man went to stand
, but was held in place by Tonwen’s expectant hand.  “And what about the soul of your mistress?”  Five more clinks and the man sauntered away feeling renewed.

The whole ridiculous exchange was enough to bring Tomal’s blood to a boil when the financial proceeds went to a good cause.  Now that it was just money coming in for the sake of a fattened treasury made even Tomal’s morally questionable past look quite virtuous.

Yet another individual stood across the table from Tonwen.  This man wore a frilly garment of royal blue with a matching hat sporting the plucked feather of a peacock.

“Yes my son, what is your sin?”

The arrogant man did not even pretend to look troubled by his spiritual need.  “I have not committed a sin yet, but a man owes me money and I need to make an example out of him.  If I kill this man can that sin be forgiven?”

“The gold you contribute will need to provide medicines to save many, many lives if you have taken one,” Tonwen said quietly.

“I have not killed anyone yet,” the man said and then took a quick glance back at the line.  “I am a busy man though.  I don’t wish to wait in such a long line again to pay my penance.  Could I make an adequate contribution now for the sin I will soon commit?”

Twenty clinks of gold in the coffer sent the man on his merry way.  That was the proverbial straw that broke the
camel’s back for Tomal.  He stormed forward before the next contributor could approach.

“You fools don’t you see what is happening here?” Tomal bellowed from the top of the steps down to the hundreds lined up below.  He gestured with both arms toward Tonwen and the church behind him.  “
They preach only human doctrines that forgiveness and safety from purgatory may be bought.   It is certain that when gold clinks in the money chest, greed and avarice can be increased; but when the church intercedes, the result is in the hands of God alone.”

“What are you doing?” Tonwen insisted through gritted teeth.

“If men of the cloth are meant to serve the common good, and it is in their power to grant forgiveness and a place in heaven, are they not obliged to perform this service with no demand for compensation?” Tomal went on as though Tonwen did not even open his mouth.  “No good comes from this.  In fact, it is the height of evil.”

Tonwen sprung to his feet and defended his work.
“Money raised by indulgences is used for many righteous causes, both religious and civic in nature.  A cure for the plague, construction of churches, hospitals, leper colonies, schools, roads and bridges are all results from these contributions.  Not to mention the eternal salvation of these fine people’s souls.”

“It’s evil and I want no part of it,” Tomal declared
and stormed down the steps away from the church and Tonwen.

From the ground,
the five hundred foot tall burial mound could easily be mistaken for just another hillside.  Its steeply sloped sides made of rammed earth were covered with trees and vegetation just like the surrounding area.  However, from the air it lit up the Alpha spacecraft’s range finder like a giant landing beacon. 

Now two years
after landing on the planet Kuanti returned to the mound after helping Kublai Khan conquer the territory with the knowledge that the earthen pyramid served as a mausoleum to Qui Shi Huang, the first Emperor of China.  Specifics of the monument were difficult to come by since legend told that the emperor had all seven hundred thousand slaves who worked on the construction trapped inside with the emperor upon his burial so that its many secrets would die with them.

Local legends also stated
that vast treasures lay within: piles of gold coins, a scale replica of the empire, a jeweled map of the sky along the ceiling, and rivers of flowing mercury.

Kuanti was not interested in the treasures and models, his engineering mind had other designs for the powerful structure
; however the thousands of immaculately crafted clay warriors were also intriguing to him. 

Kublai
Khan had completed the conquest of this vast land with the Alpha’s help and was now in the process of consolidating his power.  Kuanti felt comfortable leaving that mundane task to Cora’s relic. He planned to use his time more productively, so he made the five hundred mile trek back to Xi’an.

“Kuanti, what are you up to?
” Goron asked through the mental connectivity the relics shared.  You should be in Dabu with the others making sure Kublai Khan is kept properly under foot.  Instead, you pull a half dozen warriors and yourself away for a cross country sightseeing trip?”

“I have an idea to share with you and the others once
the planetary orbits come back together,” Kuanti cryptically answered.

“That time is now,” Goron demanded.  “I have felt their intermittent presence for several days now, or is you
r mental focus so inferior to mine that you could not detect them yet?”

Kuanti allowed the insult to pass without incident.  He yearned to respond to Goron’s provocations, an
d if he had a body to engage in physical combat he would.  Instead, Kuanti had to endure these mental battles.  Over the past two years he found it best to just ignore Goron’s incessant little barbs.  Failure to acknowledge the mental hits angered him far more than any counter insults could ever achieve.

  “I want sustained contact with the Mars relics before revealing my plan.”

“Now should suffice,” Noren’s unmistakable thought pattern communicated from across the forty million mile gap between the planets.  He had been Kuanti’s brightest student over the years and a natural choice to lead the Mars collective while out of touch with the relics on Earth.

“Report,” Goron
demanded as he successfully took command of the entire collective once more.

“The second ship is half
completed as is the new fusion reactor,” Noren proudly declared.  “I estimate another two years and we will be in a position to transport all fifty thousand residents of the colony to Earth.”

“Your instructions were to quickly construct a ship capable of ferrying
five hundred warriors at a time to get the migration underway as soon as possible,” Goron chastised.

“Constructing a larger craft is not the limiting factor, it is building the reactor,”
Noren countered.  “If we have the time, we may as well make the ship able to carry as many as possible.”

Kuanti felt a surge of pride roll across his consciousness.  His former
student expertly maneuvered the conversation to maximize the perception of his accomplishment and painted Goron into a corner where he would have to acknowledge the achievement.  Victories against Goron were few and far between; Kuanti reveled in it, even if it was truly his student’s moment.

“Excellent work,
Noren,” Goron finally managed.

Kuanti decided the time was right to press his agenda.  “What about the relics?  Is there room on the transport for them to make the trip
with you?”

“No,”
Noren admitted.  “Though the relics individually are rather small, over half a million of them take up considerable volume.  In fact, we recently had to open up another network of caves to accommodate them all.  Almost every life force now is choosing to remain since they know the ability to return home is finally within our grasp.  Transporting them all from here to there will take dozens of trips.”

“Each of those round trips could take several months if the planetary orbits are not
properly aligned.  The whole process could take years,” Kuanti added.

“I suppose you have a better way?” Goron
snapped back.

It was
Kuanti’s turn to shine now.  “Actually I do.  The shape and size of the pyramid I am traveling toward has the ability to harness and focus energy with the addition of the gravity coils from my ship.  We spotted its unique properties when our landing sensors were drawn to the structure.  I believe the addition of a control chamber within the pyramid will allow me to draw the life force energy of the relics from Mars to Earth without the need for a transport craft.”

“You what?” came a resounding cr
y from the collective thoughts; most prominently Goron.

Goron quieted the masses so he could address the issue.  “Caring for and personally transporting our revered
elders is natural and righteous.  Exerting Mother Nature’s resources and energies on the relics in the manner you suggest approaches blasphemy.”

“We vilify the Novi for
wasting nature’s resources to reanimate the dead.  This is not the same, but it is taking a few steps in that direction,” Goron went on with several others voicing a similar argument.

“It is a slippery ethical slope to be sure, but given our circumstance
, I strongly feel it is the best option to get all of the relics safely to this planet,” Kuanti responded.

Dead silence echoed throughout the collective and everyone retreated into their own thoughts to consider the implications.  In the final analysis, some found the idea repugnant, most thought it
distasteful but prudent, and Kuanti was certain a surprisingly sizeable sect would not mind taking a slide down that slope all the way to reanimation.

Goron finally came down with his decision.  Kuanti could feel the conflict and hesitation in the back of his leader’s mind, but the order came. “You may proceed with your plans for the pyramid.”

Oh I intend to
, Kuanti thought while struggling to keep his elation private.

During his extraordinarily
long life Hastelloy had the pleasure of visiting royal palaces far too numerous to count.  Over time they all, save a special few, ran together with the overwhelming grandeur of one subtly overshadowing another until the memories all ran together.  At this point it took a lot to impress Hastelloy, but he was indeed awestruck by the compound Kublai Khan constructed as his royal palace.  It was ornate and opulent, but above all it was vast.

As the emperor’s honor guard escorted the small group of European merchants
, he took careful note of the palace grounds.  They included a great park eight miles square enclosed by a wall and ditch with an entrance gate midway along each side. Within this great enclosure of sixty-four square miles was an open space a mile broad, in which nearly a hundred thousand cavalry troops were stationed.  These grounds were bound on the interior by a second wall six miles square.

Within the sec
ond wall lay the royal arsenals, a deer park, meadows and plush groves.  In the interior rose a third wall of great thickness, each side of which was a mile in length and stood twenty-five feet tall. This last enclosure contained the palace proper.  The roof was unusually lofty considering the structure itself was only one story in height; it reached from the northern to the southern wall and included a spacious court in the center from which extended a marble terrace seven feet wide, surrounded by a magnificent balustrade.

The travelers were escorted into the inner sanctum
of the single story palace where the emperor held court.  “Great Kublai Khan, may I present to you members of the esteemed Polo family who have traveled all the way from Europe for the purpose of establishing trade.”

Hastelloy was instantly grateful he undertook the difficult task of learning the local language during their year long journey
to this kingdom, thus allowing him to understand the verbal exchange.  Comprehension of new languages was particularly difficult for Hastelloy, though the task was getting easier the more often he was forced to do it.  Quietly he and Gallono watched Niccolo, Maffeo and Marco Polo step forward. 

“Mighty
Khan, we have traveled far to bring you goods from our lands for trade,” Niccolo offered which was promptly translated for the emperor’s benefit.

“What
valuables do you offer?” the emperor asked while lifting his iron cup for a servant to fill with more wine.  He took a drink and winced at the metallic aftertaste the goblet produced.

“
To begin with, I can offer a vessel to hold your wine that will not alter the flavor,” Niccolo said while gesturing for his son to bring forward the wooden crate he carried.  The teenager set it down, and Niccolo reached down and produced a glass wine goblet.  “Behold, glass blown from the finest artisans in all of Europe.”

Niccolo
paced forward, personally filled the glass with red wine and handed the beverage to Kublai Khan.  The emperor took the glass and stared at it from all angles.  He appeared fascinated at the idea of seeing his drink through the walls of its container.  Finally, Kublai Khan took a mouthful, swished it around, and swallowed.  Like a sunrise brightened a new day, a broad smile blossomed across the emperor’s usually stoic face, “Remarkable.”

“
I can offer far better wares,” Niccolo beamed as he pulled glass plates, bowls, and vases from the box resting on the floor in front of him.

“And what can we offer in return for such
wares?” the emperor asked while holding a particularly large wine pitcher up for closer inspection.

“Spices, silks, weapons,”
Niccolo raffled off.

The great man
suddenly lost interest in the glass objects and turned his full attention to the negotiator standing in front of him.  “What kind of weapons do you have in mind?” he asked, almost as an accusation.

Hastelloy winced slightly realizing the man’s mistake. 
Niccolo had offhandedly ventured into dangerous territory and the couple steps Niccolo instinctively took toward the exit gave evidence to that fact. 

Kublai
Khan’s sudden rise to prominence revolved entirely around the technological advantages he held over his rivals.  The secrets were tightly guarded with lethal force.  A stranger trying to pry into those secrets was not welcome at all.  In fact, Niccolo’s next few words would probably determine if his head would leave the palace attached to his body or not.

Niccolo
regained his composure and firmly stood his ground to deliver his reply.  “Thousands of miles from here, in the far off lands of my origin there are wars.  The combatants in these conflicts would pay almost any price for the advanced tools of war you have perfected.  Why not profit from that?”

“Why would I give them my weapons for their money when I can use those weapons to take their money, land and women instead?”
Kublai Khan asked, producing a round of laughter throughout the chamber.

“
Yes, you could do that, but there are many kingdoms and thousands of miles between here and my intended buyers your majesty.  I know.  I have seen them on my way to negotiate with you.  Do you plan on fighting your way through all of them to reach the gold, lands and women of my buyers who reside half a world away from here?”  Niccolo asked.

The edges of
Kublai Khan’s mustache turned down slightly as the question suddenly muted the room’s laughter, “Of course not.  Even my grandfather, the divine Genghis Khan, was not able to achieve such conquests.”

“Then I respectfully propose you sell the designs for your counterweight trebuchet and hand cannons to my buyers
.  You or your heirs will never in a thousand years cross swords with these far off kingdoms; and by that time you will have developed even more powerful weapons.  I propose that for no effort on your part you can have their gold.  You could even use that treasure to buy their women if you so choose, mighty Khan,” Niccolo concluded to a second round of hoots and hollers from the emperor’s court.

Kublai
Khan still gazed intently upon Niccolo which put an end to the laughter and replaced it with a loaded silence.  The emperor debated Niccolo’s words in his mind for several anxious heartbeats until he finally nodded his head slightly toward the negotiator.  “Your suggestion may have merit.  You and your travel companions will stay as my honored guests in the palace while I consider your offer.”

Never underestimate the greed of men
, even one who apparently has everything,
Hastelloy thought to himself as he and Gallono followed their royal escort away from the emperor’s presence.

Hastelloy noticed a series of
family apartments for the emperor and his wives running along the rear of the palace. Behind that, between the palace and the adjoining wall, rose an artificial mound of earth, a hundred feet high and nearly a mile in circumference at its base. The slopes were planted with evergreen trees and crowning the summit sat an ornamental pavilion which served as the emperor’s private place of meditation.

“I think we should pay the
emperor’s private chambers a visit tonight and see what he and his advisors truly think of the Polo’s offer,” Hastelloy said to Gallono once their escort left them alone in the shared bedchamber along the outer balcony of the palace structure.

“It would certainly be a shame to walk all the way f
rom Italy without gaining a private audience with the man,” Gallono said over his shoulder while unpacking a pitch black set of clothes for himself and Hastelloy.

After nightfall
the two men climbed over the balcony railing and scaled their way around to the secluded backside of the palace.  Hastelloy hoped only a handful of guards would patrol the emperor’s private garden considering the nearly impenetrable defenses around the outside, but his hopes were quickly dashed.  Every hundred yards or so, a pair of sentries patrolled the hillside and its surroundings on alert for intruders who would be summarily executed on the spot.

When a set of guards moved far enough away
, Gallono and Hastelloy slunk out from the shadows and dropped from the balcony into the garden.  Gallono absorbed the fifteen foot drop with a graceful summersault to the side that brought him behind a wide evergreen tree without a sound.  Try as he may to remain quite, Hastelloy let out a faint grunt when he collapsed to his knees upon landing and barely managed to stagger behind cover before another pair of guards came near.  Both men drew their daggers in case the pair got curious, but they passed without incident.

“You
sure you’re up for this old man?” Gallono teased.  “Because I am not walking all the way back here from Egypt if we get caught on account of you sneaking around like a bull set loose in a glass factory.”

“Yah, y
ah,” Hastelloy whispered and gestured for the two of them to move across the stone paved walkway to begin climbing the tree covered hillside.  The two moved in a leapfrog pattern.  One took a forward position, verified the coast was clear and then signaled the other to move up.  That man then assumed the forward position and signaled the other to move again when it was safe.

Gallono gave Hastelloy a wave which sent him creeping past his first officer
and becoming one with a pine tree twenty feet ahead.  Just when Hastelloy was about to signal Gallono forward, an unusually quiet set of guards rounded the tree Gallono used for cover.  The pair paused to look around the general vicinity, but eventually took a noticeable interest in Gallono’s hiding place.  Something caught their attention.

W
hile the two guards had their backs turned to Hastelloy making their way toward Gallono, he floated out into the open and approached them from behind.  The moment one of the guards reached for the soft bristles of the tree, Hastelloy jammed the business end of his dagger into the guard’s unprotected neck.  He looked over to the other and found Gallono’s dagger had delivered a similarly fatal blow to the other guard.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” Hastelloy
sighed while the two quickly dragged the bodies under the tree’s low hanging canopy and moved on up the hill toward the ornate temple. 

The structure had three layers of curved roof lines stacked upon each
other which culminated in a sharp point at the top.  Beneath the roof lay an open air gazebo with a stone altar occupying the center.  Immediately in front of the altar there was a kneeling pad for prayer.

The temple was unoccupied
, but the two did not dare come out of hiding or venture too close.  If Goron’s relic was indeed the driving force of Kublai Khan’s rise to power, Hastelloy knew from prior experience that the Alpha relic had the ability to detect other life forces nearby.  Just to be safe, Hastelloy and Gallono took positions on opposite sides of the building and patiently waited. 

While
silently occupying the shadows they perfected their camouflage coverings by adding pine branches, sap and grass to the point that they were both practically invisible by the time Kublai Khan made his journey to the hilltop temple to consult his deity.  It was an odd contradiction to watch an emperor powerful and arrogant enough to reside in such a palace lower himself to his knees and bow before the stone altar.

“I seek your guidance
once more,” Kublai Khan said from his knees with his arms out wide and chin in his chest.  “Foreigners from a far off land offer the opportunity we have been looking for to enhance the treasury to begin the next round of conquests.”

“Go on,” came a soft, almost feminine voice that sent Hastelloy’s adrenal glands pumping.  It was Goron’s relic, it had to be.  The three sets of protective walls, the army of cavalry, and the dense web of interior guards.  It was not for the emperor, it was for Goron. 

A
fter a thousand years spent searching since the fall of mighty Rome, Hastelloy was finally in position to put an end to the Alpha interference on this planet once and for all.  Then his crew could finally focus all their efforts to pull this civilization out of the dark times and on the road to technological progress once more.

“
The merchants of course offer to buy our spices and silks, but they also wish to sell our weapon designs to far off kingdoms,” the emperor reported. 

“And this strikes you as a wise thing to do,” the voice asked with a hint of amusement in the tone.

Kublai Khan also sensed sarcasm in the words which caused him to look up in confusion.  “We could charge them dear and never run the risk of facing them in battle.  I fail to see the downside of making such an arrangement.”

“Giving up one’s primary advantage is not wise at any price,” the voice instructed.  “Now tell me about the negotiators.  Who are they, how did they learn o
f our weaponry, and what makes you think you can trust them?”

Before the emperor could deliver his response shouts of alarm rang out from halfway down the hillside.  Moments later
two towering guards in full armor and headdress dashed from the tree line.  Their height was such that the two needed to duck down in order to fit under the swooping roofline as they entered the temple and stood behind the emperor facing the altar.

Hastelloy
was prepared to interpret their words spoken in Mandarin, but the series of harsh barks and growls took his mind a moment to process.  He was in fact translating the Alpha language.