Shadows of Golstar (53 page)

“So,” Owens said, “that seems to confirm the Founder
really was here.”

“Yes, it is the correct time period.”

“Interesting, the seal, the wall, the plaque are all
human-created. However, the artifact itself and the Controller aren’t. It looks
like your Founder did not want just anyone accessing the Messenger. I suppose
that’s understandable; I can imagine the Controller could be dangerous.”
Especially in the wrong hands, Owens thought, but it did intervene and save him
from the mutineers. Then again, if he hadn’t been drawn to the Messenger in the
first place... This circular argument wasn’t getting him anywhere. “So they
erected the wall, force-field and with the Grand Patriarch’s seal, warned away
uninvited guests.”

“That is the logical explanation,” she agreed.

He asked, “Can you remember anything else? There may
be something you didn’t think important enough to mention. Even if you think
it’s a minor detail, is there something you may have not told me that might
help me better understand?”

He was oblivious to the impact his words had on Sharné.
She cringed inside. Owens was asking her about the Founder’s Shrine, but his
question opened the flood-gate to the memory of her lies; the many lies she had
employed to allay his suspicions and explain her father’s ‘Trojan’ assignment.

With everything that had happened, her duplicity had
been pushed deeply into the background of her mind, away from conscious
thought. The danger, excitement, fright and the gradual recognition of her
growing feelings for Owens had shrouded her mind in a temporary fog of blessed
forgetfulness. The subsequent questions as to why critical information had been
withheld from her had pushed her own deceit even farther back into the recesses
of her mind. But with his words, she was painfully reminded of her original
purpose. Every falsehood she had uttered to forward her father’s plan came
rushing back to her, like violent waves crashing against the foundation of her
conscience.

She found herself hopelessly torn between her sworn
duty to her father, her people and that of her growing bond to Owens. “Owens,
I…” she began.

A soft chiming interrupted her. Owens looked at his
wrist-comp. “It’s Hec.” He activated the com channel and the AI’s voice rang
out clearly.

“Boss, are you and Sharné okay?”

“A scratch here, a bruise there, but otherwise we’re
both safe. What about you and the
Holmes
?”

“Hah, they couldn’t lay a glove on us. When the
mutineer’s mother ship lost extra time to allow for their shuttle-launch to the
planet, I was able to increase the distance between us. After that it wasn’t
too hard to stay out of their weapons’ range. I also managed to poke a couple
of holes through their jamming. I kept transmitting your message and it looks
like some of it got through.”

“Great,” Owens was happy to hear that Hec had
survived. “So, how is it that you’re back now?”

“A few hours ago, the rogue ship suddenly lost
interest in the chase. They turned tail and headed back towards Selane,” Hec
replied.

“That syncs up with what Sharné told me,” Owens said.
“The mutineers knew that ships would be coming out from Berralton.”

“Yes,” Sharné agreed. “They mentioned their approach
more than once.”

“So,” Owens continued, “our rescue party is getting
close and it looks like the mutineers decided that they didn’t want to be
around when our rescuers landed. They just took their shuttle back up to rejoin
their comrades.”

“Well that explains why the mutineers broke off the
pursuit, not that they had any chance of catching me, mind you,” Hec bragged.
“After that, I established communications with one of the rescue ships. It was
intersecting my course, trying to engage the mutineers. I don’t know if they
were successful, the baddies had turned back to Selane and had a good head
start. They could still detour and escape into subspace.”

Hec paused, “Anyway, I was able to talk to the
friendly Golstar ship. I tried to get a status on the mutineer’s ship.”

“What did they say?” Owens asked.

“Not surprisingly, they don’t like to talk very much.
In so many words, I was told to mind my own business and instead of a status,
they gave me a set of instructions. I was told I should head on to Selane and
contact you, verify your location and transmit your coordinates back to them. I
did that when I locked onto your wrist-comp transmit signal. I hope that’s
okay.”

At the sound of a faint rumbling, Owens and Sharné
looked up at the sky. They could see a distant pinpoint of bright light. Owens
returned his attention to the wrist-comp. “You did well. It looks like the
cavalry is already arriving. Did they say anything else?”

“Only for the
Holmes
to maintain a high orbit
and standby for further instructions,” Hec replied.

“Okay, I’m not in a position to contradict their
orders, even if I were so inclined. It’s better to keep following their instructions.
I’m going to sign-off for now. I’ll contact you again as soon as I can.” He
switched off the com channel.

The noise increased and the light in the sky gradually
grew in size. Before long, a shuttle landed in a clearing adjacent to the
shrine. Owens looked at Sharné and they began to walk toward the spacecraft.
Unexpectedly, he stepped on something hard, nearly tripping. He bent down and
picked up the object. “Hey, look what I found.”

“What is it?” She looked at him in puzzlement.

“Your dispersal gun,” he replied. “They forgot it or
didn’t think it important enough to keep. Why don’t you hold on to it, at least
for now?

“Very well,” she said, placing the small weapon in one
of the large pockets of her survival suit and with Owens beside her, she
started off towards the shuttle.

● ● ●

It was hot and Linden was sweating. He swiped at his
forehead with the back of his sleeve. The sleeve came away darkened with
perspiration and grime. The deck trembled under his feet as if the
Light
Avenger
feared its approaching fate. The ship emitted ominous creaking
noises under the constant stress of emergency thrust made necessary by the
relentless pursuit.
Muted sounds crept along deserted corridors, the
occasional squawk of structural supports protesting under the loads being
placed upon them.

 And there was the dust; the years of accumulated
dirt and grit shaken from their long quiescent slumber in a myriad of nooks and
crannies throughout the ship, now roused into the air from the constant
vibration. Air exchanger filters, past due for replacement, became clogged and
the dusty air stagnated. He grimaced, and then coughed.

 His mind was numb, unable to cope with the
woman’s impossible disappearance. One second she was tied, being led into the
shuttle, the next she was gone. No sound or pyrotechnic display gave proof of
her mysterious departure. The only evidence that she had ever been present was
the untidy heap of rope that had bound her, lying at the top of the entry ramp.
He could not understand what had happened and knew pursuing this line of
thought was fruitless given their current situation.

Before the shuttle had arrived to take them back to
the ship, he had been preoccupied by the disappearance of dark-bringer’s
remains. Thinking that he had the time, he had delayed in interrogating her
until they were again aboard the
Light Avenger.
However, she vanished
before he could finally question her. He still had no idea who she was. He
grimaced in frustration and with some reluctance, he turned his thoughts back
to his more immediate problems.

They had barely rejoined the
Light
Avenger
when the alarm klaxons began to sound. Another ship had
approached their weapons range. It was the
dark-bringer’s
ship.
It too had returned to the vicinity of Selane. They found some little solace
that they might at least have another opportunity to destroy it.

They had only just started again their pursuit of the
accursed vessel when they discovered that it was not alone. Unfortunately,
another ship was coming up from behind it, a Golstar ship. The Golstar ship
broke on a new heading as the dark-bringer’s ship changed course and made for
orbit around Selane. The other ship’s course brought them to a heading aimed
directly for the
Light Avenger
. It was obvious that it was one of the
rescue ships sent by the Grand Patriarch. He badly miscalculated the rescue
fleet’s time of arrival.

Linden had immediately
ordered the crew of the
Light Avenger
to battle stations and had the
ship accelerate to emergency thrust. For a while, they managed to stay ahead of
the pursuing Golstar ship, but since then, the other ship was slowly closing
the gap. It was only a matter of time before the distance was reduced enough
for weapons to become effective.

Although both ships were similar in class, Linden knew
his undermanned crew would stand little chance in a battle against a fully
complemented, experienced crew with a newer ship.  Even at their best
attainable acceleration, the pursuing ship was still closing the gap; Linden
did not see how they could make it to a safe, subspace entry point before being
fired upon.

It was too much to bear. Everything went wrong from
the start of the mission. First, the unexpected resistance of the
Light
Saber
, then the subsequent escape of the dark-bringer’s ship, after that
came the disappearance of outsider’s body and finally, the dark-bringer’s
female companion had also vanished. What could have happened to them?

He shook his head in angry frustration as he now paced
the almost deserted bridge. Only the navigation and command stations were
occupied. He sent the woman assigned to the communications console back to
engineering. As she was an engine technician, he hoped that she could coax some
extra thrust out of the reaction drive engines. Others, manning less essential
workstations, had been sent to more vital positions throughout the ship.

His pacing was interrupted by a voice. It was the man
at the navigation console. He had called over to Linden that there was an
encrypted message coming over from the pursuing ship. Linden stopped, his brow
furrowing in puzzlement, then he remembered the communications console had been
slaved to navigation. He almost ran over to the man, instead walking calmly, he
said, “Let me see it.”

The man assigned to navigation looked up at Linden.
“It just finished decrypting.” He reached over and took a flimsy out of a slot
on the console and handed it to Linden without glancing at the words. Linden
fumbled with the message, suspecting it was the final ultimatum before his ship
was blown apart. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand and
started to read it.

He read through the short message with growing
incredulity at the unexpected words. He then reread it. He finally looked up,
still grappling with the content of the message. Sadly, he made his decision
and activated the ship’s intercom and announced, “This is Linden. I want all
weapons stations to stand down immediately.” He stopped a moment, thinking,
then added, “You will secure all ship’s weapons. All crewmembers will remove
all hand arms and return them to ship’s stores.
The
Light Avenger
will come to a complete stop. Helm, reverse the ship’s attitude for a full
retro maneuver, do it now.”

He stopped talking and was gratified his orders were
immediately followed. The vibration quickly diminished then stopped all
together. He could imagine the ship’s steering thrusters firing and the ship
turning on its axis. He felt the vibration build back as the ship applied its
reaction drive engines for braking.

“I want the engines switched to station-keeping once
we have stopped. All hands will prepare for ship-to-ship docking. This is my
last order. Do not resist the boarding party. Any crew member violating this
order will be shot. Make no hostile move and above all, remain silent.” He
looked down at the message, crumpled in his hand. There was no reason to try
for escape now. There was no place that they could go; no one who could protect
them. Perhaps the revolution would begin, in earnest, before they faced the
firing squad. It was a very small hope, but it was all that they had.

Then he looked up and announced in a horse voice, “The
Colonel is dead. Members of his staff and other supporters have been arrested.
We are surrendering.”

The Grand Patriarch took another sip of brandy and
savored the velvet fire of the centuries-old liquor on his pallet. He smiled
and raised his crystal snifter in a silent toast. His daughter was safe. Janus
Owens was safe. The mutineers were being pursued. His people’s salvation was
finally at hand. Soon the humble private investigator from Confederated Planets
would fulfill his greater destiny. He took another appreciative sip.

A discrete knock at the door intruded on his thoughts.
“Come,” he called. The door opened and a tall man in an immaculate uniform
stepped through the threshold. He stopped before the Grand Patriarch and
crisply snapped his fist to his heart in salute and bowed. The Grand Patriarch
inclined his head in acknowledgment. “What is it, Captain?”

The captain stood at attention and said in clipped
tones, “Our ships received the coordinates for your daughter’s location on
Selane and a shuttle has been dispatched from the flagship. Your new
instructions were acknowledged by Admiral Lender. He will send a confirming
transmission when they are completed.”

“Very good, very good indeed,” the Grand Patriarch
smiled. “Thank you, Captain, your news is most welcome. You may take your
leave.”

The captain bowed again, saluted smartly, performed an
about-face and left, closing the door behind him. The Grand Patriarch stared at
the door and absently took another sip of brandy. With the captain’s last
message, the Grand Patriarch finally began to relax in earnest. No further
chances were to be taken with Janus Owens’ well-being. Extra precautions were
needed to prevent another occurrence, precautions that should have been
implemented at the onset.

He idly reviewed the events leading up to this moment.
His thoughts turned rueful. His plan had appeared to unravel almost as soon as
Owens had been selected. Some of its apparent failures were
 
by design, his design, known by him alone.
Plans within plans, deception was the only way to keep his opponents guessing.
Nevertheless, the recent events had forced him to make changes to the plan he
had not anticipated. The destruction of the
Light Saber
and the narrow
escape of his daughter and Janus Owens were things he could not have foreseen.

However, he should have anticipated the recent aberrant
actions of the dissidents. Even with his unique intelligence on the membership
of the opposition, he underestimated the misguided zeal of rogue individuals.
He smiled grimly. The self-proclaimed Leader should have had better control
over the Preservers of the Way. But no matter, this Janus Owens possessed an
amazing ability to survive and had stymied the opposition yet again. In spite
of everything, Janus Owens prevailed. It was quite an amazing turn of
events.    

As he thought about the man from Confederated Planets,
he wondered. Who was this man? Before the most-recent
 
attack, the Grand Patriarch had only looked
at Owens from a narrow perspective, his unique physical traits that would solve
their pressing dilemma. However, the mental makeup of a man, who successfully
beat the odds stacked against him, and in doing so had also saved his daughter,
intrigued him.

He wanted to know more. Could this outsider play an
even greater role than the Grand Patriarch had first envisioned? Perhaps there
was something more that could be exploited. Yes, he would have to think on it
further.

His thoughts quickly returned to the present. Janus
Owens had been so near and yet his proximity to Berralton had afforded him no
real protection. Although Janus Owens had survived, the subversives had almost
been successful this time. Had they ended his life with this last attack, the
people of Golstar would be lost. The Grand Patriarch could not allow that to
happen again. The subversives would not be given another opportunity. Owens
would be safeguarded at all costs.