Shadows of Golstar (79 page)

Damn,
the Controllers were starting to sound a lot like the old Grand Patriarch, but
instead of extolling the virtues of the Founder, the Controllers were
canonizing the Trah-tang. Owens started to ask another question, but the
Controller interrupted.

**As
to Confederated Planets, by the time that you are allowed return, we will have
redeployed the defenses that have remained quiescent, until now. Those defenses
will be under our complete control. However, until we consolidate that control,
you will remain our guest.**

Great,
I got out of one jail only to be put back into another, he thought. “Well, since
you mentioned my needs, would you mind reconnecting the link to my AI? Not that
I don’t appreciate our conversations, but I would like to talk to Hec.”

His
wrist-comp beeped and a gravelly voice said, “Hi, Boss. I’m back.”

“Damn
it Hec, it’s good to hear a friendly voice again.”

“Same
here… what happened to the com-link?”

“I
assume the Controllers momentarily severed the link for reasons of their own.”
Owens waited for the Controllers to say something in response. When they
didn’t, he asked, “You still with me, Hec?”

“In
spirit, if not in body,” the AI replied. “So what’s going on? My scans are
blocked, but I’ve been monitoring planet-side communications and there are a
hell of a lot of emergency declarations going out and so many calls for aid,
they’re clogging the local airways. From what I can determine, even the
military is mobilizing. Now what have you gone and done, Boss?”

“Hey,
it wasn’t me. I’m not in command. The Controllers have assumed control and are
in a much better position to answer that.” He waited for a response.

**We
have just sent a data-packet to your AI.**

A
second passed, and then Hec said succinctly, “Shit.”

“Yeah,
that’s my sentiment too,” Owens replied. “This just keeps getting better and
better.”

“Well,
I’m here for you, Boss, and I’ll do what I’ve always done… just like when we
were running from the mutineers, you can trust me to do the right thing.”

He
wondered… what was Hec talking about? Then it dawned on him, “Hec, don’t…” He was
interrupted by loud, garbled noises. Squawks and staccato bursts of static
overdrove hidden speakers. The clamor lasted for about twenty seconds and then
was abruptly cut off. “Hec? Hec, are you still there?” With no answer, he
asked, “Controller, what just happened?” 

After
a few more seconds of silence, the Controller answered.
**Your AI sent
a
number of data worms in a blatant attempt to corrupt our programming. We will
not allow it to interfere. Though it failed, we found it necessary to retaliate
in kind. It will be of no further nuisance.**

Owens’
stomach lurched at the calm assertion. “Retaliate… how?”

**As
it was conveniently positioned close to one of the fortresses orbiting this
planet, a wave-pulse cannon was activated and effectively deployed against your
ship.**

“Hec...
my ship, you destroyed them?”

**The
AI no longer exists, nor does the ship to which it was attached. We are happy
to report that a large percentage of it was reduced to its elemental
components. Only a few isolated pieces of wreckage remain to provide testimony
that it once existed.**

Owens
was staggered by the Controller’s declaration. It was actually gloating. Hec
and the
Sherlock Holmes
were gone? He knew the Controller would gain
nothing by lying… so it had to be true and for only the second time in his
life, Owens felt the acute loss of losing someone important in his life. He
felt the same aching sense of defeat as he had when Starling had been killed.
The news of Hec’s demise was like a plunge into icy water. The shock was almost
as tangible.

Through
all the trials he had endured in getting to Golstar, the repeated attacks,
their final culmination in his imprisonment and even with his eventual
execution looming over him, he had still believed that he might find the answer,
a way out of his predicament. But now, with the sudden loss of a friendship he
had come to rely on, and without his ship, his home, he felt the hopelessness
of his situation for perhaps the first time.

He
stood mute, silently grieving for the cantankerous personality who had run his
ship so well and saved his life a number of times during their brief, but
eventful acquaintance. He tried to find the words that might express his
feelings, his revulsion for what the Controllers had done, but failed.

Anger
was slowly replacing his sorrow and as it grew his loathing for the Controllers
also grew. He wasn’t in a position to avenge Hec. He needed to vent his
frustration, and anger but only thing that he could think to say was, “Shit!”
In the recesses of his mind, he thought wryly that Hec would have likely
appreciated the sentiment.

In
spite of Sharné’s fervent hope of being intercepted by an armed search party,
she and her father eventually made it into the Sanctum without incident.
 
Her father grimly motioned to her with his
weapon. “You will precede me.” He nodded jerkily toward the same room they had
been in once before. She slowly went in and stepped up onto the familiar
platform, her father trailing close behind. As it had before, the ring began
its smooth descent as two mounds formed into chairs.

“Do
not sit down, this must be done quickly,” he harshly commanded. “The Sanctum’s
force-fields are inoperative. We could be discovered at any moment.”

She
fervently hoped so, but remained still, waiting for him to continue. He watched
her for a long moment, daring her to resist his command. When she continued her
silence, he glanced down at the controls now clustered on the ring’s surface.

He
waved a hand across the section of a flattened dome and a hologram of a palace
hallway appeared suspended in the center of the platform. It was deserted. His
eyes returned Sharné’s face. She looked back at him with undisguised hatred.
Ignoring her glare, he said, “First, let us see where the traitor is…” and
began pressing lit squares on the control panel.

Holographic
scenes flashed from room to empty room, finally stopping at a long chamber
filled with people, some dressed in robes of state and others in uniforms
reflecting high rank. A number of them were sitting around a large, cluttered
table, while others clustered in small groups. He fiddled with another control
and background hum of voices could be heard. He zoomed in on the scene, darting
from one area to another until he focused on a figure dressed in the regalia of
the Grand Patriarch at the head of the table. It was Talin.

He
was talking, his face grave. His voice could be heard clearly, “Our situation
worsens by the hour. We have just received new reports that the Orbs of
Guidance have systematically failed across the entire globe. Factories,
hospitals, power plants, even schools are shutting down. Automated
transportation is now at a virtual standstill. Only manually-guided vehicles
still operate, albeit with limited efficiency. This is happening on Dante as
well as Berralton.
 
In essence, all
services based on Trah-tang technologies are failing. As our communications
system is also faltering, our information is becoming spotty and unreliable.”

A
woman sitting at the table asked, “What of the people? How are they reacting?”

“Badly,”
Talin replied. “Initially, there was confusion, then small protests and some
rioting began to spring up as the breakdowns began to spread. As you all know,
I declared Martial law at the onset of the failures. Every available member of
the military is now on duty, patrolling the streets in every major metropolitan
center. However, their numbers fall short of what is needed. Their
effectiveness is being hampered by the withdrawal of the Trah-tang technologies
as well. In some areas, they are reduced to foot patrols. At present, much of
the population remains huddled, hiding fearfully in their homes waiting for
answers, answers from us. How long this situation may remain is unknown.” He
paused and looked into the eyes of everyone sitting around the table.

A
voice was raised from the back of the room, “Your Luminance, I have news.”

Talin
looked toward the uniformed man who had just entered the room. “Yes, Captain
Collins, come forward and tell us of this news. Can I assume that it is bad?”

Collins
voice was harsh with fatigue, “Yes. I am sorry, but I must convey more ill
news. Swarms of Mechanized Sentinels have been observed entering a small number
of large cities located in the Northern hemisphere. As their numbers continue
to grow, we can only assume they are the first of many such incursions.”

At
his words, there was an eruption of loud cries in protest and alarm from around
the room. Talin immediately shouted for silence and the voices quickly
subsided. “Tell me, Captain, what are they doing? What is their purpose?”

“Nothing
that we can discern as of yet,” Collins replied. “At present, they are
positioning themselves around military installations and large manufacturing
centers. They have made no overt move against humans…yet.”

“I
see… what else?”

“I
regret to say incidents of civil unrest are increasing and inexplicitly,
breakdowns in military discipline are also on the rise. General Oberon was
forced to order the imprisonment of three separate squads of soldiers who had
engaged in looting and… other more serious violations of military regulations.”

Talin
was silent for a moment, and then said, “Thank you, Captain. Unless you have
anything else to add, you are dismissed.”

After
the door had closed, someone from the back of the room said in a rather
petulant voice, “The influence of the Orbs is fast fading. These first
indications of civil disobedience are just the beginning. We should anticipate
a worsening of the unrest.”

Talin
frowned at the speaker, “Thank you for pointing out the obvious, Minister
Calder.” He looked around the room and with a heavy sigh, said, “Ministers,
Councilmen, and Commanders, it is clear that without a last minute miracle, we
are on the verge of total anarchy. If we cannot find the remedy, then the Light
of the Way may be soon be extinguished.” With a sarcastic note in his voice, he
said, “If any of you believe in prayer, now might be time to do so.” He looked
around the room and saw that Calder was muttering to himself, as if in prayer.
He looked away, disgust evident on his face. “Otherwise, I am open to any new
suggestions on what we should do next.”

The
hologram abruptly winked out. Startled, Sharné looked towards her father. He
was sitting in one of the chairs, his face gone ashen, without a readable
expression. He seemed dazed, unaware of his immediate surroundings. The gun was
lying on the floor near the chair, having been dropped by nerveless fingers,
forgotten. As she carefully approached him, she saw that his eyes were glazed,
staring at nothing.

Her
own feelings were numb, her mind trying to comprehend the tableau she had just
witnessed. It was difficult to absorb the words she had just heard. It seemed
so impossible, so unreal. The speed in which the events had taken place was
inexplicable, but the obvious cause of them seemed clear. Owens, it had to have
been Owens, there was no other possible explanation. He had broken his promise
and took matters into his own hands with devastating consequences. She searched
her feelings, but could find no emotion, no anger, not even a sense of
betrayal, nothing. She felt only a growing emptiness. She did not know what to
do.

Without
volition, she found herself staring down at the man who was ultimately
responsible and a dark thought began to form in back of her mind. She said
softly, “Father?” When he gave no indication of having heard her, she slowly
reached down and retrieved the gun. It was heavy in her hand. She straightened,
not taking her eyes away from him. He still did not move. He could have been a
statue, had it not been for the almost imperceptible rise and fall of his
chest.

She
glanced down at the gun clenched in her hand and saw that it was a beam weapon,
set to lethal. She raised the weapon, slowly bringing it to bear on her
father’s chest. She stood for almost a minute; the gun held firmly in her hand
never wavering, pointing at the man who was once the most powerful being in
Golstar. She looked down at him, her revulsion growing. He was just a criminal,
the foul murderer of her mother and ultimate slayer of their civilization. With
these thoughts, her gorge began to rise and her finger slowly tightened on the
weapon’s trigger.

An
unexpected, loud crash distracted her and she quickly turned in the direction
of its source. It had come from the outer room and she silently watched as a
shadow fell across the entryway. Someone was approaching. She immediately
redirected her gun at the opening, waiting for whoever it might be, as her
heart pounded loudly in her ears. A bright flash of silvery metal momentarily
blocked the opening, then the portal’s frame and surrounding wall fractured and
broke noisily apart as the large glistening sphere of a Sentinel entered the
room, debris falling from its slick shell. Automatically, she pulled the
trigger. She fired again and again, sending lethal bolts of energy that bounced
harmlessly off of the war machine’s thick armor.

A
panel silently opened on the sphere and a mechanical appendage shot out and
grasped Sharné around the waist, raising her over a meter above the floor. With
her grip loosened by the sudden jerking motion, she released the gun and the
Guardian, with Sharné firmly held in its metal claw, backed away in the
direction from which it came. The former Grand Patriarch remained sitting
motionless in the chair, oblivious to the noise and his daughter’s abduction.
Glistening tears began to form at the corner of his unseeing eyes.

● ● ●

Owens
paced the rooms. He made no further attempt to talk to the Controller. What was
there to talk about? After the initial shock of losing Hec and the
Holmes,
he found his anger slowly growing, continuing to push aside his grief, at least
for the moment. He embraced his rising ire and along with it, his increased
clarity of thought. His anger had effectively buffered his loss and focused his
thoughts once more towards escape and revenge, however futile his endeavors
might be. His anger also kept his worry over Sharné at bay. He couldn’t bear to
think of what might happen if he were to lose her too.
 
And so he paced, his boots thudding on the
stone floor as he honed his cold rage and thought desperately of escape.

He
heard a slight noise and stopped in his tracks as a section of the wall nearest
him suddenly irised open. Now what, he wondered. He hesitated for only moment,
and then walked over to the opening and gazed out beyond the threshold.

It
was an expansive, brightly lit area with lush, carefully tended flowers and
shrubbery.  He saw what had to be a small lake in the distance. It looked
like a park… perhaps the park was for the Trah-tang workers. It was a place
where they could relax after a hard day’s work. What the hell, he thought, and
walked purposely out of his rooms and into the natural-seeming setting. He
paused and breathed in air scented with an aroma reminiscent of pine and
wildflowers. He knelt down and saw that the ground foliage bore the signs of
recent trimming. It looked like the Controller was restoring the Prime,
including the Trah-tang recreational facilities.

He
slowly straightened up and looked around, taking in more detail. Large rock
formations, individual trees and a small forest were artfully placed. They
complemented the scenic vista, making it seem as though he really was outdoors
instead of kilometers below the planet’s surface. He looked up and saw a large,
blindingly bright globe mimicking the sun. Projections of sky and clouds
completed the realistic illusion. Looking back down at ground-level, he spotted
a number of hut-like buildings nestled at the foot of some of the rock formations.
He had to admit that for a prison, it wasn’t too bad. Then realizing what he
had just thought, he shook his head angrily. However nice it may look, it was
still a prison,
his
prison, and one that he needed to escape.

With
that thought, he reconsidered his surroundings and pondered where an exit might
be located. He assumed the beings that had inhabited the Prime complex probably
used the instantaneous transport system to come and go. But an intelligent
species like the Trah-tang would certainly provide for unexpected emergencies
and create more mundane forms of egress. He wondered how long it would take to
walk towards the nearest wall and search for an emergency exit. He would have
to disguise his intent from the Controller and began to consider excuses that
would explain the need for a nice long walk.

As he
stood thinking about the problem, he caught a flash of movement out of the
corner of his eye. He quickly turned toward it and was surprised to see Sharné
sitting on the ground some fifteen meters away from where he was standing. She
arose, dusting herself off and then looking up, saw him. She immediately
started running to him. He smiled and started to open his arms for an embrace.
The smile froze on his lips as he registered her furious expression, her
fingers formed into claws.

**As
you earlier requested, we were able to retrieve your female companion.**

She
hit him at a full run, but he was ready and absorbed the impact without losing
his footing. Her hands arced up, with the intention of clawing his face. He
caught her wrists in his hands and she immediately began to thrash about. She
screamed in anger and frustration, “Let go of me! Let go of me, you
oath-breaker! Liar! Murderer!
 
You have
destroyed us! How could you betray me, betray my people? May you be cast into
everlasting darkness!” She continued to struggle in his grasp and spew vitriol.

Owens
gripped her wrists firmly as she continued to try to break free with surprising
strength. She obviously blamed him for what was happening on Berralton and
while her reaction was understandable, it still hard to take. She had no real
reason to suspect the Controllers, and he knew any attempt to reason with her
in her current state of mind would fail. So he said nothing, and waited for her
to run down. It took a while but finally, she did. Her curses turned into
racking sobs and soon after, her struggles turned into uncontrollable shudders.
When he thought she might actually listen to him, he said, “Sharné, I want you
to pay attention to my words. I know you think I’m responsible, but you’re dead
wrong. I’m not the one to blame for what is happening. I did not do this. The
troubles up on the planet’s surface… I didn’t cause them.”