Shadows of Golstar (74 page)

Owens
spoke up, “What’s the big deal? It shouldn’t be any great surprise to you that
I would bear a resemblance to your Founder. After all, you chose me for my
genetic similarity to him.”

“
We
did not choose you, Janus Owens. That was dictated by another,” the woman said
stiffly. “It was the previous Grand Patriarch who plotted to bring you to
Golstar, quite against the wishes of myself and others. As a result of his
misguided deed, he has placed Golstar in great peril. Accordingly, he has been
removed from office.”

“Well
then, that must mean you’re here to release me.”

She
shook her head. “Truthfully, I had expected something a little cleverer from a
man who has, in spite of the odds, managed to cheat death time and again.” She
stared intently at him, and her lips slowly drew into a mocking smile. “Perhaps
instead you relied solely on chance for your survival.”

“Oh,
I wouldn’t say it was chance at all. Your people’s ineptitude was the greatest
factor. Frankly, I’m surprised you can remember to breathe when you go to
sleep.”

“As I
expected, you are a boor with no manners. But then I suppose I should not judge
you too harshly since I understand that lack of wit and sophomoric humor are
practiced quite widely within the environs of Confederated Planets. Yes, that
must be it; you are simply a product of your sad, decadent society, albeit an
extremely lucky one.”

He looked
at her and with a grim smile said, “At least my sad, decadent government hasn’t
resorted to brainwashing its citizens in order to stay in power. I’ll take my
society over your humorless one anytime.”

“How
dare you? You know nothing of our society. The Orbs of Light provide guidance
to the People and unites them under the Light.”

“I
know enough,” he said, “Enough to know your little utopia is a sham, supported
by those so-called Orbs of Light. Guidance? Hah, more like outright mind
control. All of your citizens march in lockstep to the tune your ruling
families play. Without those alien brainwashers, your empire would have
collapsed long ago.”

She
drew herself up haughtily, “I will not debate with you.”

Owens
grinned widely, “A wise choice on your part.”

The
new Grand Patriarch interrupted.  In a commanding voice he said, “Enough!”
He walked forward purposely and sat down across from Owens. The woman stood
motionless, still glaring at Owens with unconcealed hatred clearly etched in
the lines of her face. The new ruler turned and looked at her with clear
displeasure. Her expression immediately cleared and she stiffly walked forward
and sat in the chair to Owens’ right.

“I
will not stand on formalities. As you have by now probably surmised, I am the
new acting Grand Patriarch. You have my permission to forgo the title and
address me by my given name, Talin. The noble lady to my left is Minister
Joselé.”

Owens
met Talin’s steady gaze, “Call me Owens.”

Talin
nodded, “Very well, Owens.” He paused, considering his next words. “I know my
predecessor informed you as to why you are here. Can I assume then you
understand, if not accept, its importance?”

“Oh,
I understand alright,” Owens responded. He couldn’t keep the bitterness from
his coloring his voice, “I understand I’m part of a special key, a key to
unlock a treasure trove of alien technology that has been withheld from you
since the Founder’s death. And yeah, I understand that without it, you and your
precious society are as good as dead.”

Talin
refused to be baited, “Then I am sure you were also informed of the necessary
limits being placed on your freedom.”

“I
figured that one out on my own. It’s easy to see I know too many secrets to be
allowed to return home.”

Talin
nodded, “Indeed you do. If the former Grand Patriarch’s mad scheme had
succeeded, you may have been allowed to return to Confederated Planets, but
sadly with your unexpected exposure to the Prime on Selane, that option was
effectively closed.”

“Why
are you telling me this?”

 “Through
no fault of your own, you were brought here and I do think you deserve some
further explanation. As Minister Joselé said earlier, the former Grand
Patriarch summoned you here without endorsement by the members of the ruling
Assembly. They have always believed, as have I, the population problem could be
solved internally, without the drastic measures, the former Grand Patriarch
undertook. Once the population was stabilized, more resources could then be
focused on regaining access to the Trah-tang technology. All the while,
Confederated Planets would remain ignorant of our true circumstance.”

“But
the former Grand Patriarch changed all that,” Owens mused. “The mere act of
requesting me has to have rekindled Confederated Planets’ interest and if I
don’t return within a reasonable timeframe, for any given reason, they’re sure
to investigate. Am I right?”

“Unfortunately,
yes. As a result of our ex-ruler’s mad scheme, an incursion by Confederated
Planets is now all but certain. So, since you are already within our borders,
it is now necessary we take full advantage of your unique value. In order to
prevail once again against Confederated Planets, we must immediately seek to
regain access to the Primes.”

“So,
for me this change has no effect on my status as your prisoner. You aim to get
your pound of flesh… from me.”

“True.
Therefore, the current restrictions to your freedom must remain in place. Know
that you will never be allowed to return to Confederated Planets alive.” He stopped
and glanced at the minister. She returned his gaze with a curt nod. He turned
back to Owens, “However, in spite of our marked differences, we are not without
compassion. As you did not seek your current circumstances, you will be allowed
to live on Berralton. As soon as your new quarters have been modified to
accommodate your, ah… unique talents, you will be taken there to wait until the
numerical key sequence is recovered. Once that is accomplished, you will
provide us with the other half of the key and our rightful access to the Primes
will be returned.”

So,
Owens thought, they hadn’t yet found the numbers Sharné had recovered from her
mother’s files. She mustn’t have told them. He almost smiled at the unexpected
revelation. Then his momentary feeling of relief was replaced with sudden
worry. Maybe she hadn’t deliberately withheld the information. Maybe she
couldn’t. Maybe she was still unconscious or… he didn’t want to think of the
alternative. He had to find out.

He
asked, “May I ask, how is the Keeper of the Way? I believe she struck her head
during my scuffle with your men. Please believe me, when I took her hostage, I
hadn’t intended her any harm.”

“She
is recovering nicely, no thanks to you,” Minister Joselé answered.

Talin
said, “That act alone would have brought you before a firing squad, but as I
said, you are not responsible for being here. I, therefore, will make an
allowance this one time. You will not be granted another.”

Owens
kept his face blank. He said, “I understand.”

 “Good.
Once you have provided your part of the key along with donating some additional
tissue samples, I will consider relaxing some of your restrictions. Provided
you willingly cooperate, over time your freedom may be extended beyond your
immediate quarters.” His voice grew noticeably cold, “But be aware, once you
have provided those items, your living presence will no longer be required.
Your continued existence is subject to my indulgence alone. Your life beyond
our immediate need will depend entirely upon you. The least infraction will
result in your prompt termination. Do you understand this as well?”

“Yes,
I understand,” Owens answered. Now was not the time for a futile gesture of
defiance, he thought.

Standing
up, Talin said, “Very well, I will have your restraints removed upon our
departure. But before we leave, I want you to look up at the ceiling.”

Owens
tilted his head back and saw a flattened silver dome in the center of the
ceiling.

“What
you see is a monitoring device. It has a 360-degree view of this room. In
addition, it is capable of emitting a non-lethal nerve gas that can
incapacitate even someone of your physical attributes within a few seconds of
contact with the skin. Though it will not kill you, I understand it is quite
painful and can cause permanent damage to the nervous system from prolonged
contact. I trust you won’t try to escape again.”

Owens
tore his eyes away from the dome and stared at the Grand Patriarch.

The
Grand Patriarch returned his scrutiny for a moment, then he and the minister
turned and left. The door had barely closed when three uniformed guards opened
it again. One stayed by the door, leveling an ugly-looking weapon in Owens’
direction, as the other two went over to him and released his restraints.
“Remain seated until we leave,” one of them ordered.

The
door closed and gripping the edge of the table, Owens slowly stood. He
carefully shifted his weight from one foot to the other, testing the strength
in his legs. Other than a little stiffness, they felt okay. He must not have
been unconscious for very long. Releasing the table, he straightened and
stretched, working the stiffness from his back and arms.

He
began to make a slow circuit around the room. He saw, positioned behind where
he had been sitting, an opening without a door. Beyond it was a small room
barely big enough to contain a tiny sink and antique toilet. He looked up again
at the ceiling and saw a small intake vent over the tiny bathroom’s entrance.
His eyes traveled along the walls where the ceiling met and found the exhaust
vent. Neither vent was even close to being big enough to accommodate someone of
his size. There was no way out other than the single door. He slowly turned,
taking in his surroundings once more. His eyes stopped at the dresser. There
was a small tangle of straps lying on its surface. He hadn’t seen it from his
sitting position.

He
walked over to the dresser and was surprised to see his gravity harness, or
what was left of it. The last time that he saw it, it was still hanging in the
wardroom closet in his palace suite. Looking at it now, he saw the small disk
containing the micro-circuitry had been forced open. Only a few wires and a
piece of the connector harness remained. It was otherwise empty. The tiny
power-pack was also missing. He picked it up and threw the useless jumble of
straps into the corner. He wondered at his captor’s point. It seemed awfully
weak as a gesture of intimidation, if that’s what it was.

He
shook his head and opened the top drawer of the dresser. In it, he saw a number
of neatly folded tunics and pairs of pants along with some underwear that he
had packed for his trip to Berralton. For a moment, he wished he had the new
and improved survival suit that had been fabricated by the Controller. Not only
was it comfortable, if the Controller could be believed, it was an effective
shield against energy weapons. Something like that could come in handy when he
again tried to escape.

He
looked down at himself and saw he was still wearing the clothes that had been provided
him for his meeting with Sharné’s father. They were now dirty and torn in
places, much the worse for wear from his last violent encounter. He stripped
down to his underwear, tossing the damaged garments into the same corner as he
had the gravity harness. He entered the tiny bathroom and washed up, as well as
he could, using the small sink and meager supply of towels. He then donned
fresh underwear and clothes.

He
walked back over to the dresser to check the remaining drawers. He opened
another drawer and received a second surprise. Lying on top of some folded
blankets next to a thin pillow was his wrist-comp. He hid his growing
excitement as he picked it up and eyed it with seeming indifference. He was
relieved to see that it appeared undamaged, but without turning it on, he
couldn’t be sure. He turned around and looked up at the dome. Addressing his
hidden watchers, he held it up, unobtrusively pressing the small activating
stud. He was gratified to see the tiny transmit indicator wink on behind his
concealing thumb. He said quickly, “What in the hell am I supposed to do with
this? You trashed my gravity compensator. Why did you leave me this?

A
disembodied voice answered. “I only answer you at the directive of the Grand
Patriarch. Your possessions were thoroughly inspected. The miniaturization of
your gravity compensator was found to be intriguing and its inner workings were
sent to our Department of Science for further study. Your other possessions,
including your wrist computer were placed within the dressing chest for your…
convenience. As you cannot contact your ship and it has no weapon capability,
we see little harm in providing you with this small means of entertainment.”

So
they
had
checked it out. They must have at least accessed the entertainment
module libraries and projection-holo. He let sarcasm drip into his voice,
“Gosh, thanks. This will really help while away the lonely hours.” He made a
show of putting it on and polishing it with his sleeve. He received no further
comment as he walked back to the table and sat down. He yawned and idly tapped
three times on the table’s surface. He waited for a moment then tapped again.
The transmit indicator on the wrist-comp responded with three flashes. Hec was
on-line.