Test of Magnitude (The Torian Reclamation) (26 page)

“Just when is this awards ceremony taking place?” Mip7 asked. “And I would also like to mention that I shot down several missiles myself.”

“Four to be exact,” Olut6 said. “Is that correct?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“No,” the governor said. “We aren’t planning a public presentation. Extat.” He turned the game off and the pieces all fell again. “Your start, Commander.”

Mip7 still wasn’t comfortable. The governor was being ambiguous. Time to clear the air.

“Forgive me if I seem reluctant, Governor. Brandon—the Earthling—and I have been through a lot. I am in no way suggesting I distrust your explanations. But I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it than what I’m being told. I assume we are now at a state of war.”

Olut6 placed his first piece in the new game and then looked up at Mip7. He seemed happier now. Mip7 remembered how his own emotions had been severely affected by the outcome of the last game played. It was, therefore, probably best to only talk to the governor after he had just won a game, but it was too late now.

“War changes things,” Mip7 continued, “and perhaps necessitates the use of deception, even in some domestic matters. I understand this would only be reasonable, of course, but I do feel it is my duty to look after Brandon’s best interests. That is, after all, my assignment.”

“Be careful where you make your true alliances,” the governor said, “and be mindful of who it is you actually work for.”

“Extat, Governor, he’s right and you know it,” Olut6 said. He turned back to Mip7.

“Son, don’t worry. You have my word. That alien friend of yours—Brandon?—we owe him a debt of gratitude. Trust me—he’s not going to become upset with us when we see him. Quite the contrary, I believe. He will be granted all the freedom of any Torian citizen. We just want to talk to him about a few things.”

“All right, Commander,” Mip7 said. “I want to clarify something, though. We didn’t steal those fighters. We were trying to move the shuttle, as you requested. The hangar was hit by enemy fire and began depressurizing. We were trapped out there, in the middle, separated from each other, and those fighters were our only way out. Once we got out, both of us—yes, both of us—felt compelled to help, after we discovered we could handle the craft. That’s what happened.”

“Extat!” Olut6 shouted. He was now looking at a video screen on the wall. “Governor, you kept me here too long. I have business elsewhere that I am now late for. Mip7, walk me to the lift.” He reached over and turned off the frame, his way of surrendering the last game.

Mip7 followed Olut6 out and walked with him in the hallway.

“Listen, son. I like you. The list of people I feel I can trust is getting shorter. That Earthling friend of yours has a special set of skills. It is undeniable. As a military commander, I am duty-bound to investigate this. I need to understand why he is such a good fighter pilot in our ships. He mentioned he is in need of favors. Well, I am in a position to help him, for the time being at least. But I’m not making many friends in the high command right now myself. So, let’s help each other out while I’m still able. All right?”

Mip7 was relieved. “Thank you, Commander. I feel much better now. I think Brandon will be appreciative as well. I will bring him to you.”

“Good.”

Olut6 then grumbled as he pressed the button for the lift. “Can’t believe how time got away from me and I missed appointments, playing that extat game. This isn’t like me, and not helping my situation any.”

“The same thing happened to me when I played that game with the governor,” Mip7 said. “There’s something about it that captivates you, sucks you in, and makes you disregard your schedule. I missed a shuttle because of it. It was like waking out of a dream when we finally tore ourselves away.”

Olut6 cocked his head. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Very interesting.”

The lift arrived. Olut6 stepped into it quite slowly for someone who was in a hurry. He was obviously thinking about something intently. He held the door open and stared back at Mip7 in the corridor. A smile began forming on his face. It continued growing until it was broad and unrestrained.

“On the other hand,” he said while beaming like a Sheen, “maybe I have them right where I want them. Perhaps, just perhaps, they will be the ones catering to me.”

“Sir?”

“Keep your alien friend on ice a little longer. I’ll let you know when to go get him.”

“Oh. All right.”

The commander let go of the button and the door closed on his still widely grinning face.

* * *

Brandon loved jumping dreams. The kind where you feel you are on the moon and can leap great distances in slow motion. It was almost like flying, except there was a tremendous feeling of déjà vu in this one. He was jumping around in a white bounce-room with Derek. They were laughing and enjoying themselves, doing flips and spins in the air. They had done this before, hadn’t they?

But then, Derek was pulled away into a round object of some kind. They were no longer in the white bounce room, but outdoors in a campground. Derek was now up in the air, but only his face was showing, surrounded by a circular frame. It began moving. Brandon then realized the frame around his face was actually flying saucer. It whizzed away, Derek’s face still plastered on the bottom, until it was out of sight. Brandon had a sudden feeling of tragic loss, and began crying.

Crying. That was weird. Brandon never wept, not even at funerals.

The sky came alive with color. Brandon wondered if someone had drugged his beer. Beer? Was that what he had been drinking? What was that other drink he liked …ar-something. Argim, that was it. Did Derek slip some acid in his argim? He better not have!

As the clouds in the sky continued to change colors, some of them became faces. A dark spot streaked across a portion of the sky. The faces were bright and hard to look at. There were sounds; voices of people giving urgent instructions to each other somewhere off in the distance. The black streak became larger, until it blocked a significant portion of the sky.

“Brandon,” a face above him said. Brandon blinked until the face dimmed enough to be able to look at. It was familiar, but not a regular human face.

“Can you focus?” the face said.

Brandon didn’t feel like focusing. “Yes,” he said, “but you’re blocking the sky.”

“Brandon, do you recognize me?”

Brandon struggled to focus on the talking face. It had rough, leathery skin, but somehow did not appear foreign.

“You do seem familiar,” Brandon said.

“I am Madkin3. You are at Landen, my village. You arrived yesterday with your friend, Mip7. Do you remember?”

Brandon relaxed his eyes and struggled to try and see the sky again. The information coming from the voice of the face was registering in his mind somewhere, but it was also disturbing. He didn’t want information, facts, or figures right now. He wanted to see the sky change colors, and for the scene to change into something else.

“I want to jump again, with Derek, up into the colors of the sky. Go away.”

“Brandon, you have been bitten by a serpent. Did you see it? Brandon, I need you to focus. Come back to me. Don’t go up into the sky colors, or you may not come back.”

Brandon tried to wrestle his way free, but was being held firmly in place. What did the voice say about a serpent? He remembered something about serpents. Flying serpents. Yes, there was something about flying serpents. Didn’t he shoot one? The sky. There might be flying serpents in the sky. Better to stay down here. He focused on the face above him again.

“Good,” the face said. “Can you see the pillar of the law? Here, next to you. The big black rock. Do you see it?”

Brandon turned his head and focused on the rock. Suddenly, everything around him came into focus as well. The sky above was blue. He was lying on the ground, and four Sheen were holding his arms and legs. The large black rock with the carvings was right in front of him. This was Landen. Mip7 had gone to Cardinal-4. His leg hurt.

“Madkin-3,” he said to the face above him.

“Yes, yes, good. Look back to the rock.”

Brandon focused on the rock again. He could not read the carvings. They were just foreign symbols to his eyes, but as he held his gaze upon them they began to stand out from the rock. They seemed to be more than just carvings now. It was as if the carvings were a living entity themselves. The longer Brandon focused on them, the more they projected themselves out from the rock.

“The snake,” Brandon said. “Looked like a stream of light. Too fast to see. Bit me on the leg somehow.”

Voices of the other Sheen could be heard mumbling now. Brandon thought he heard one of them say
fire adder
.

“Keep looking at the rock,” Madkin3 said. “We will be putting some ointment on your leg wound. There may be a cooling sensation. Ignore it and keep your focus on the rock. I am going to ask you some questions, all right?”

“Okay.”

Suddenly there was a cold feeling on his leg, right in the middle of the pain. It didn’t feel good, either. It was a frozen spot surrounded by fire.

“Brandon, to impose upon others in the pursuit of your own will—this is wrong, and unwise. Do you agree?”

“Yes, of course,” Brandon said. The cold spot in his leg grew.

“Brandon, to ignore the obvious suffering of another while attending to your own will—this is wrong, and unwise. Do you agree?”

Brandon flashed on Sheri flirting with other men right in front of him, when she knew how it hurt his feelings.

“Yes,” he said. “This is a terrible thing to do. I wish I had paid more attention to others, and helped people more.”

The cold sensation spread out over his entire leg. The fire was gone, but it now all felt frigid and numb.

“Save my leg, please.”

“We are trying to save both your leg and your life,” Madkin3 said, “but much is up to you. You are wise, though, Brandon, and possess a heart naturally inclined toward the law. You are doing fine.”

“My leg feels frozen.”

“Your body temperature has come down. This is good. Listen, Brandon. When one has been wronged by another, and then discovers an opportunity to repay the one who wronged them in like manner, doing so is justified. But is it wise?”

Brandon had to admit focusing on answering these philosophical questions was taking his mind off his leg and calming him down. He considered the last question, which seemed to be about administering justice, albeit in a vengeful sort of way. Brandon noticed some of the carvings on the higher portion of the rock that were now projecting further out than the others, almost like they were in 3D. He blinked, but they remained that way. His vision must have been affected by the snake poison. But he found he now had inspired words with which to reply.

“Who will judge the judges?” Brandon said. Some of Sheen around him murmured and nodded in agreement.

“What do you mean?” Madkin3 asked.

“To repay evil with evil is only justice if it can be administered without hatred. If I exact revenge in the same manner as the crime committed against me, how am I better than the criminal? His having gone first seems irrelevant in the greater scheme of things—especially since acts of revenge tend to surpass the original crime in terms of severity.”

Brandon felt a new surge of pain in his leg, but it was different this time. Not like fire or ice; more like a leg cramp. The cold sensation subsided and the cramp in his leg became localized, just above the ankle.

“I forgive the unwise!” he found himself suddenly shouting. “For they have either realized their mistakes, or are but fools whom I pity. But I have been blessed with wisdom!”

All the Sheen let go of him at those words and fell to the ground. Brandon sprang up to a sitting position. He looked around. He was surrounded by ten or more Sheen who were now also all sitting. They were in front of the big black “pillar of the law.” Brandon’s right pant leg was rolled up, exposing a fresh bandage just above his ankle. He felt okay, but his ankle hurt and he was tired.

One of the Sheen handed him a tube full of reddish liquid.

“Twenty …red flowers?” Brandon asked.

The Sheen nodded. “Redflower-20, yes. It will relieve the pain somewhat, and help you sleep.”

* * *

“Redflower-20, yes,” the bartender said, and handed Mip7 a tube. Mip7 accepted it and consumed the contents straightaway.

“A glass of argim now, please.”

“Make that two,” a voice from behind him said. Mip7 turned around. It was Commander Olut6. The bartender delivered the two drinks.

“Shall we sit?” Olut6 said after picking up his glass. They were in a government-only lounge on Deck 65. Mip7 stepped away from the bar and the two of them sat at a small table.

“You seemed quite pleased about something when I last saw you,” Mip7 said.

“Indeed I was. Have you slept?”

“Yes, quite well, thanks.” Mip7 took a sip.

“How have you spent your day?” Olut6 asked.

 “Organizing my personal affairs, cleaning my compartment, and checking the work rosters. I noticed that some of my coworkers are no longer on the station. I also toured some of the damaged areas, and put my name in to volunteer to help with the recovery efforts. That is, as long as I’m here, before you send me on my errand.”

“Did you see the governor again?” Olut6 asked.

“Yes, I was in his office before I came here.”

“For how long?”

“Quite a while, actually.” Mip7 was starting to become nervous over this line of questioning.

“Doing what?” Olut6 persisted.

Mip7 hesitated before answering.

“Discussing the details of my normal job, potential changes in foreign policy—”

“You were playing that extat game, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Mip7 admitted. “I finally tore myself away and came here.”

“What happened when you left his office? What was the governor doing?”

“Commander…”

“It’s okay. Just tell me, son.”

“One of his assistants sat down with him—”

“And took your place as his opponent, right?”