Shadows of Golstar (70 page)

“This
is one of my dressing rooms,” she said. “Behind these mirrors are walk-in
closets.” She walked over to one of the mirrored panels. “All except one,” she
tapped three times on the upper right-hand area of the mirror’s surface. She
then tapped once near the center. Finally, she reached down and tapped twice in
the lower left corner. With a number of muffled clicks, the mirrored panel
swung inward.

Owens
grinned, “I should have seen that one coming, a secret passage. Every palace
should have at least one.”

Sharné
turned back to him. “The Founder had these passages constructed long ago to facilitate
emergency evacuations for him and members of his family. The passage connects
the royal suites of the upper palace and to a lengthy corridor that leads down
to a small shuttle pad near the west garden on the palace grounds.”

Owens
stared at the now revealed entrance. “How many people know about this passage?
I assume your father and his security people would be aware of this. How likely
are they to include this as part of their search for me?”

“Actually,
not very likely at all,” she answered. “It has been all but forgotten. You see,
it was never needed or used. Most of the exits have been blocked over the years
as the upper palace underwent repairs and renovations. If memory serves me,
there are only five rooms remaining that still connect and have working
entrances.”

Owens
asked, “How do you know all of this, is this part of your job?”

She
sighed, “No. My mother showed it to me when I was little. When my father was
away, which was often, she would let me use the passage to sneak into their
room and we would play silly games and talk. Sometimes I would get to sleep
with her.”

Owens
heard a wistful sadness in her voice. “I’m not I sure I understand. Why would
you need to sneak?”

Her
voice strengthened. “After the age of five, my primary care was provided by
nurses and nannies. Training begins early for Golstar’s elite. I imagine that
had my caretakers known, they would have told my father and the passage would
have been sealed, but fortunately, they never suspected.”

He
immediately saw some similarity in his own upbringing. “I understand. Loders
practice similar methods of childrearing.”

She
sighed quietly, making no comment. She turned and started to enter the
passageway, but then suddenly stopped short. She stood still, the set of her
shoulders stiffening. She turned back to face Owens, her expression now
unexpectedly wary.

He
asked, “Okay, what’s wrong now?”

“With
my guilt for your present situation and the immediate urgency of the moment, I
did not once consider the consequences of giving you aid, nor did I think to
question your motive. I am very sorry Owens, but I must do so now. Why do you
want the code, and exactly what are you planning to do once you have it in your
possession?”

He looked
into her eyes and saw the banked fire lurking behind her pointed gaze. He
shrugged, “To be honest, my first and only thought was to find a safe haven,
gain some time to think. With the code and my DNA, and provided I can contact
this planet’s Controller before I’m recaptured, I was planning order it to
transport me into the Prime facility.” He didn’t mention he was in contact with
Hec who had access to the Controller. “From what your father said, Golstar
can’t gain access to it without the complete key. I figured that would give me
enough breathing room to decide what to do next. Frankly, I haven’t thought
much beyond that.”

“I
see, but can
you
see that such an
action could have far-reaching consequences?" She said in a somber voice,
“Aside from my feelings for you, what makes you believe I would willingly
provide you access to the very knowledge and technology that could ultimately
threaten, or destroy Golstar, even as flawed as it is?”

Great
timing, he thought. Precious time was ticking away and now she wanted to
debate. “Damn it Sharné, I don’t know what I can say that would convince you.
Using the Controllers to gain some sort of advantage for Confederated Planets
over your peoples’ best interests wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Forgive me
if I seem self-centered in this, but I only thought of it as a way to escape
immediate capture. It would buy me some precious time.”

“You
do not have to do anything directly to harm Golstar,” she countered. “You could
simply give your government access to the Primes and the result would be the
same.”

 His
temper started to fray. “Look, I really don’t have time to debate this with you
right now. I just told you I haven’t even thought beyond the point of getting
to a safe place.” Before he could stop himself, he went on, “And by the way,
what are trying to protect anyway? The lives of people that are controlled by a
government that deliberately engages in mind control? You’re worried about
preserving that?” At his thoughtless words, her face lost all color.

He
sighed heavily. “Look, what I said may not be diplomatic, but damn it, it’s
still true. But as much as I may not like what your government has done to its
people, I wouldn’t try to take on the responsibility of trying to change it.”

Her
face remained pale.

He said,
“I mean, who am I to make such a judgment, one that would affect so many
people? I can only promise you I’ll try not to do anything that will hurt you…
or your people.” He was beginning to sweat. Guards could begin pounding on the
door in any second. “Come on Sharné, remember who I am and what I am. I didn’t
ask to be here. I only came here to do to a job, a job I’m damn good at. I’m
not qualified for anything else.”

She
silently stared at him, carefully weighing his words. He went on doggedly,
“Sharné, I’m telling you the truth. In the short time we were together, I hoped
you’ve come to know I couldn’t do something like that. Believe me, I’ve never
had an urge to act as god. ”

She
finally spoke, “I do want to believe you. But I believed my father and he…
Owens, I don’t know what to do.”

“Then
just come with me,” he urged. “We can do this together. If I can gain access to
the Prime, we’ll be safe. Then we can take our time to consider what to do
next. With your knowledge and experience, it’s only right you provide the
guidance, and as long as it doesn’t harm Confederated Planets, I’ll order the
Controller to do whatever you ask. Sharné, think about it. You have a chance to
make real changes, changes for the better.

He
stopped talking. He had run out of things to say. Still, she did not respond,
so he gave her one more option. “Or… you can simply turn me in me now. I won’t
run, and I promise I won’t try to escape again. But, whatever your decision,
you’d better make it quickly. We're running out of time.”

The
Grand Patriarch sat up in his bed and turned on the lamp. He rubbed his eyes.
He had been tossing and turning since retiring. Earlier, that evening, he returned
to his rooms to consider his next actions. It had pleased him that in spite of
all the setbacks, the first phase of his plan had succeeded. Granted, the end
result was nowhere near as elegant as he had envisioned, but the first critical
objective had been met. He now had the precious key, the key that would reopen
the door to his people’s greatness and in turn, assure his own place in
history. He reckoned his legacy would be only second in stature to that of the
Founder himself.

He
had spent the evening going over the many detailed steps he felt were needed to
reach three major goals, goals that would mark the ultimate success of his
plan. Once he regained access to the Trah-tang technologies, he would
immediately direct the Controllers to begin the reconstruction and repair of
the long neglected technology-driven pillars of Golstar’s civilization.

The
highest priority was the immediate resurrection of Golstar’s military machine.
It was the foundation on which Golstar’s civilization was anchored. With it,
Golstar would regain its strength, its righteous might. Without it, Golstar would
continue to falter and if confronted, would surely fall to its hated enemy. As
he had told Owens, he fully anticipated that Confederated Planets would be
skeptical of Golstar’s explanation for Owens’ extended stay. He had always
known that their patience would not last for long and he wanted Golstar fully
prepared to assert its military superiority once more and demonstrate the
futility of any uninvited incursion into Golstar’s territory. The time for
another, more forceful object lesson was long overdue.

The
next goal was the mass restoration program to address the faltering systems of
Golstar’s decaying infrastructure. Golstar had long relied on the Controllers
to maintain its supporting technologies and when that support was withdrawn,
exacerbated by the declining population, the underpinnings of day-to-day
existence had gradually weakened out of ignorance and neglect. Transportation
systems, communications networks, schools and hospitals would all require a
significant overhaul, if not wholesale replacement.

In
turn, this would allow an appropriate interval before addressing the third
goal, halting and reversing the dropping birth rate. He and his predecessors
had known all along the underlying cause for the population decline, but
despite that knowledge, the only cure that had been found would have undermined
their civilization. Even with centuries to research the problem, the scientists
were unable to arrive at a suitable solution. He knew that only by regaining
direct access to the Controllers, would the problem be resolved... to his and
the ruling families’ satisfaction.

He
relived the feeling of excitement that he experienced with the realization that
these goals were now so very close to being attained. He nodded to himself in
satisfaction. He did not regret the time he had spent immersed in planning the
arduous tasks ahead. The end reward would be that Golstar would regain its path
back into the Light and once again flourish, all under his wisdom and guidance.
Yes, soon he would foster a new renaissance, one guided by the Light of the
Way.

His
stomach rumbled and he smiled. His mind had been so occupied on implementation
strategies, he had barely noticed when the steward had brought in his evening
meal. He now glanced over, towards a chair in the far corner of his bedroom.
Near it, he saw the food cart. It remained where the steward had left it, the
food under silver domes untouched. The Grand Patriarch had been too engrossed,
alternating between relishing his final triumph and fretting over a myriad of
details to even consider eating. Instead, he had fortified himself from his
room’s ample wine cabinet.

His
stomach took that moment to rumble once again. He was hungry. Perhaps a full
stomach would help him sleep. He considered the long-cold food on the cart for
only a moment and then quickly decided to call for a freshly prepared
late-night snack. Rather than calling the steward, he decided it would be
quicker to send one of his guards stationed outside his door to retrieve a meal
from the kitchens.

He
reached over to the ancient, carved nightstand and pressed a small touch sensor
on its surface. A chime would sound on the guards’ belt communicators. He
waited a few seconds, but no one entered his chambers. The Grand Patriarch
frowned. They were standing right outside his door. Why were they not
responding? He pressed the sensor again and wondered if there was some fault in
the palace’s communications system.

Finally,
he got out of bed and drew on his robe. He entered the large sitting room,
turning on lights as he passed. He reached and opened the door, expecting to
see the two hulking sentinels standing stoically on either side of the
threshold, oblivious to his summons. He could imagine their chagrin when they
realized their failure. Instead, he encountered an empty hallway.

The
deserted entryway was like a dash of icy cold water, shocking him to full
alertness. This had never happened before and his mind immediately began to
consider the ramifications. Stepping back, he quickly re-entered his rooms and
engaged the heavy, manual-locking door bolts. The massive wooden doors would
afford him some initial protection against any forced intrusion. “Activate
defensive screens,” he called. Immediately, force-fields shimmered into life,
covering the outer walls and doorways of the suite’s rooms. He then paused,
considering what to do next. He needed to verify what he suspected. He went to
his desk and called the head of Guardian security. 

Someone
should have answered immediately. Instead, there was a protracted interval of
silence and then a voice finally answered. He knew everyone stationed at the
security center, but was unable to place the unfamiliar speaker. He quickly
severed the connection and made a decision.

He
went to his closet and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for.
It was a plain, but beautifully finished elder-wood box. He opened it and
withdrew a heavy object from its padded interior. He looked at it in
appreciation.

The
revolver was unadorned save for its carved, ivory hand grip. It had been a gift
from his father who had claimed it dated back to old Earth. He spun the
cylinder and was gratified that the mechanism rotated smoothly, barely making a
sound. Since boyhood, he and Talin periodically took it to the palace’s underground
shooting range for practice. He loved shooting the noisy but deadly gun. No
modern hand weapon matched the power he felt when firing it.

From
another metal box, he withdrew handcrafted cartridges and deftly loaded the
pistol. He put it aside, quickly dressed and then retrieved the gun and filled
his pockets with extra ammunition. He looked around in the closet and retrieved
a portable light. Turning, he walked over to a wooden wall panel and pushed a
hidden switch disguised as a section of molding. A panel in the wall opened
outward with a ragged squeal of a rusty hinge. He activated the light and
quickly entered. The door closed behind him as he began to walk along the
secret corridor.

● ● ●

Owens
followed Sharné, the shocker gripped tightly in his hand. He was breathing more
easily now that she had finally relented and agreed to help him. Her footsteps
were sure as she led the way. The portable lamp in her hand bobbed as she
walked, causing shadows to dance in the dark, narrow passageway. The smaller
light she had provided him remained in his pocket.

They
had only traveled a short distance when she suddenly stopped and turned to him,
her light winking out. The unexpected darkness was claustrophobic. Before Owens
could reach for his own light, he felt her hand on his arm. “Someone else is in
the passage,” she whispered. He froze, straining to hear anything that might
indicate that someone was approaching. He couldn’t hear anything, but he saw a
faint yellow glow flickering against the rightward wall of the cross-passage
ahead of them. They watched in silence as it brightened for a few moments and
then gradually faded until they were once more surrounded by the inky
blackness.

He
freed her hand from his arm and drew her into a loose embrace. Nestled against
each other, they waited, anxiously watching to see if the light returned while
straining to hear any approaching footfalls. Seconds crawled into minutes
without any further sign that there was anyone approaching their position. It
seemed that they were once more alone.

Owens
whispered, “Whoever it might have been, it looks like they’re gone now, unless
someone is hiding, waiting for us to move. However, I really doubt whoever it
was, was looking for us.”

“Owens,
my father’s rooms are in the same direction where that light originated.” He
felt her whispered breath against his cheek.

“Shit,
I thought you said that these passages were all but forgotten.”

“That
was my belief.”

“Well
someone
sure remembered them. What else is in that direction? Please
tell me it’s not your mother’s rooms.”

He
could feel the slight shake of her head. “No, my mother’s quarters are down the
left branch of the passage. I can only remember that, other than my father’s
rooms, there are more passages leading to a number of locked doors. What rooms
they might conceal, I do not know. As a child, I only ventured once in that
direction and after finding all the doors locked, I never went back for fear of
discovery.”

“That
mystery will have to wait then. One way or the other, we need to get going.
Give me your light, but don’t follow until I tell you. If someone is waiting in
ambush, there’s no need for
you
to get caught.”

Sharné
started to protest, but he found her lips and silenced her with a quick kiss. Then
he pulled back and whispered urgently, “Sharné, nobody knows that you’re with
me. If I’m recaptured, you’ll be my ace-in-the-hole. Free, you may still be
able to help me. But if we both get caught, that’ll be end of any chance I
might have to escape again.”

She
silently handed him the light and in return he gave her his smaller one. He
switched it on and waited for a few moments until his eyes readjusted to the
brightness. He aimed the light in front of him and said softly, “Move back and
be ready to run in the other direction, toward your rooms.”

He
started forward, stopping at the junction to the passage running perpendicular
to their path. He shined the light to the right and saw only a long, barren
passageway, terminating in what looked to be another junction about fifty
meters away. There were no obstacles, nothing to hide behind; the passage was
empty.   

Staring
down the passage, with the shocker in-hand, he waited for a minute or so and
then looked over his shoulder, back at Sharné. He nodded and motioned her
forward. She quietly joined him and together, they turned left, entering the
passage. They ignored the right-hand branch, which was now at their backs. They
walked another forty meters without incident, stopping before an unmarked door
with a simple lever handle.

Sharné
opened it and led Owens to a door at the end of another short passage. She
pushed a small panel next to the door, and it started to swing outward, then it
stopped with a rusty squawk. They both winced at the sound and hoped that no
one was near enough to hear it.

“Here,
let me.” Pocketing the shocker and handing her the light, Owens moved forward
and tested the door with his hands. It resisted his tentative push. He pushed a
little harder and the door moved grudgingly. “I’m going to have to put my
weight into it,” he told Sharné. He leaned against the door with his shoulder,
planting his feet firmly, and pushed again. The door started to move slowly at
first, and then, as he applied more pressure, it emitted a louder screech followed
by a cracking sound and opened freely.

With
the sudden lack of resistance, Owens lost his balance, fell forward and toppled
face down on a soft surface. A cloud of dust puffed up from the thick dusty
carpet he had landed on, causing him to sneeze.

“Bless
you,” she said, almost giggling at his unexpected pratfall. She quickly sobered
and walked over to a nearby panel and activated the lights.

“Thanks.”
He rose to his feet, dusting off his clothes and looked around the brightly-lit
surroundings. They were in a dressing room similar to the one in Sharné’s
quarters. However, in this case, the mirrors were all fogged with dust; cobwebs
draped along the moldings. The air was musty and stale from being sealed for
the many years since the death of Sharné’s mother. He stifled another sneeze as
he looked at a shapeless mound in the center of the room. He figured it was a
dressing table. It was covered with a gray, grimy shroud that must have
originally started out white.

He
followed Sharné into the adjoining room, small clouds of dust puffing at their
feet. It was cluttered with furniture, all covered with drab, dust-laden
sheets. Sharné turned to him. She pointed to a doorway. “The next room over is
the parlor. In it, you will find the entrance from the main hallway that
connects to the other long-empty residences in this wing of the palace. It has
been barred and bolted shut since my mother’s death. It bears my father’s seal
to prevent unauthorized access. It would take some time for anyone to breach
the threshold and in the process, a fair amount of noise would result.