The Book of Ominiue: Starborn (29 page)

‘And you will share these
Rare Uerths
with us when we do require them?’ the little man asked.

‘If your people choose to use our technology then yes, a percentage of profits or goods naturally belongs to the state.’

‘Why would we not choose it?’ Líol’flend laughed. Hanniver automatically grimaced at that comment, an expression that was not lost on the little tradesman whose face turned red under his tanned skin.

‘I’m sorry Trades Master,’ Hanniver corrected himself. ‘I didn’t mean to offend, but that statement has been made by many others and it doesn’t always end well.’ Líol’flend did not look convinced.

‘It is why we settled in the forest in the first place,’ Shayne added. ‘Exposure to native populations is limited to the smallest impact as possible, with gradual contact. What we are doing now is unheard of and we’ll probably get into a lot of trouble for it. Some people back home argue we should not have contact at all.’

‘Then why these negotiations, why build amongst us and not on the southern continent, or elsewhere?’ Tal’dorfin looked suspiciously at the Earthmen.

‘Many reasons,’ Hanniver answered, ‘but the main reason is because your species has only been found on this planet and in this region.’ He pointed first to the lionmen and the little inked city and tower representing Karmoníth on the map. ‘And our people are greatly interested in you. Outside of that there are great resource deposits in this little region, good farming, and also from conversations with your people we ascertained that you’re an elastic society provided we respect your law and are peaceful.’

‘You judge us by two nations. You do not know the rest of the land.’ Kal’adfin answered. ‘For example,’ He then rose from his seat and walked around to their little table and pointed to a couple of the Southern positions which had coloured tags on the holograph. His hand cast a shadow on the point he intended so he moved his hand to adjust to the point of interest. ‘These are the disputed lands; every new generation of kings brings them war. They will never be satisfied for as long as another holds land that they believe is theirs. You settling there would just add to that pressure.’

‘Not to mention they will try and trick you for your metal sky ships,’ Far’galanmír added.

‘This here is also in a country you cannot trust. They often kill their own people for no reason other than that they think they are right. These people are nomads,’ Kal’adfin moved to another point on the map and waved his hand over almost all the south-western region, ‘and they move around their lands and will war with any foreigner who tried to make a claim.’ The lionman’s face wrinkled in disgust as he pointed to another position just under the Wayel-Éaa forest. ‘Also these places often have wars and they have tried to claim the sacred forest for themselves in recent years. We do not accept that claim from
anyone!
’ he spat the last comment, viscousness in his voice.

‘This is why we seek your counsel,’ Shayne answered with a deliberate level of annoyance in his own voice that caused the Foreign Minister to falter. ‘We wish to avoid any kind of conflict, if need be we will move to the deserts beyond Dífrun. It is up to you and we have dealt with many places as you have described. There is not a single scenario of Ta’Orian occupation that we have not seen.’

‘What about Fa’Orian?’ Dun’karter interrupted, his usual distant gaze now long gone, replaced with a sharpness and wit expected for his position.

‘That is the unknown. We are relying heavily upon the honesty that has been presented.’

‘There are no Fa’Orian’s where you are from?’ the academic frowned.

‘Not one,’ Shayne replied and the old lionman looked troubled by this.

‘If you do not know us how can you then trust us?’ Tal’dorfin philosophically inquired.

‘You can view it as a risk on our part in the chance that we will gain trust.’ Hanniver continued to speak. ‘In the past we have found that policy with other planets with a level of trust upon either is far smoother and happier: A show of faith, presentation of technology or materials works well. Our payments for our requests are generous and if the nations that host us is willing to sell land they will rise above their neighbours as the greatest heartland: riches, educations and health. That is our offer.’

‘And if we are not satisfied with your deal?’ Líol’flend asked, still unconvinced.

‘Than the least you can do is wait and see what we have on offer,’ Hanniver replied. ‘Like we’ve said, our leaders back home want a city in Dífrun. It’s rare to want a capital in the heart of a planet’s civilisation but that’s what they want, and my master will
without
hesitation go to another nation to obtain that.’

‘To one of the nations of the divided kingdoms?’ Pan’arden looked at the Brigadier, concern and a level of sternness behind her face.

Hanniver’s face displayed a hint of shock as he looked at the Bohanese Commander, ‘I didn’t mean it in that sense. We’ll never offer our more — sensitive promises to aggressive nations. But we do offer education and health to all. No, the request for lands will only be made to nations like your own, but to me there seems to be plenty to choose from.’

‘The nations are loyal to Kérith-Árim,’ Far’galanmír answered.

‘The benefits we offer will not change that, but the host nation will have advantages in our proximity. Also the question of land will make them rich, would you deny a peaceful nation’s right to host us?’ Far’galanmír tapped her fingers upon the wooden table as she contemplated his words.

‘What if the Bohanese say we can use their land, what if another border nation that you are close to wants us?’ Shayne softly asked. Far’galanmír briefly looked upon the Starborn before her eyes fell away from him. ‘We are not asking for war; we are not offering weapons; we only wish a place so we can join your people. Our technology will be restricted to the lands
you
choose them to be. Technology sharing will be limited to what
you
choose can be shared. If you declare one of our technologies unsuitable then it will be denied to all in the interest of fairness, this is embedded in our mandate. We do not favour one country over another. If something makes one unhappy then we must consider that nation as well; we will not create a divide because of our presence.’ Shayne leaned back a moment and folded his arms. He was silent only for a few moments but it felt longer, he then continued, ‘Your purpose is to understand if we will become a threat. You are more concerned of us providing rival nations with the ability to oppose you than you are of us, of my people, and how advanced
we
are.’ The board traded glances of uncertainty.

‘There is that point,’ Far’galanmír grimly conceded.

‘I assure you, Head Chancellor, it is not your neighbours you should be concerned about. If we wished, we could destroy this entire world with one simple word.’ This softly spoken threat caused the members of the other table to reel back in shock, except for the monk who gave the slightest of smiles, lifting his head he gave Shayne his undivided attention. Hanniver let slip a slight cry of dismay which the Starborn ignored. Both Pan’arden and Kíe looked as horrified as the board.

‘If we wanted we could have killed every living thing on this world and leave all the buildings intact. We could burn the land and boil the seas, we could block out the sun for a thousand lifetimes, but here we stand — today — in front of you, requesting a small piece of land for ourselves so that we can live
with
you!’ Silence fell upon the room. Hanniver broke out in a sweat. He was terrified, not only for the colony but for their lives, in that room right there. His mind raced as he contemplated damage control, thinking of any possible argument that could counter and salvage them from Shayne’s attack.

‘We need time to think and talk amongst ourselves,’ Far’galanmír said. She laid her hands upon the papers before her as she said this. ‘Afterwards we will discuss the details of your promises, for the nations directly involved and for the whole of Dífrun.’ Dohka’tuda’s head snapped to the council leader his jaw still wide open in shock.

‘But Dun’k—’ he tried to plead but the old lionman shook his head, warning him to remain silent.

‘We also request that both you and the Brigadier Christov Hanniver remain within the palace walls until negotiations are made,’ Níurthan added in his soft musical voice. His pronunciation of the Brigadiers name was almost flawless. ‘You are allowed ten other Star Ta’Orians within the city walls at any given time. You need not be attended by your guards. We only require the presence of those of significant authority to negotiate. Each individual must be recorded within the grounds. No others are allowed in our lands until stated otherwise. You must warn us in advance when one of your sky crafts is approaching, and only one is allowed access to the city at any given time.

‘What of the Starborns and our machine?’ Hanniver requested.

‘The metal man is allowed to remain, but only under our order,’ Far’galanmír resumed. ‘The black warriors are not required. You remain under our protection while in these walls. You will both be given rooms. This meeting is adjourned.’ She then rose from her seat, the stewardship rising one-by-one after her; when they were all standing Shayne rose with delegation mimicking him. The Board of Stewards than bowed their heads, with Far’galanmír spreading her hands before her in a formal farewell. Shayne and the others returned the gestures and were lead out of the building. Once through the door Shayne looked back. The entire board were still standing as they watched the last of them leave the room. He noticed in particular the warrior monk who watched Shayne with the eyes of a hawk and cunning that could rival his own, and the Starborn instantly found himself mistrusting the man.

The door was shut behind them where the councillors continued their meeting in private. A high ranking Imperial Guard guided them back towards the throne room. Kíe and Pan’arden followed them to the great doors where they would part ways. Kíe rested one hand each on the shoulders of Shayne and Hanniver.

‘I will come and see you, make sure you visit the sights outside the palace. I cannot have both of you in my city and not see my school.’ He grinned and waved good bye. Pan’arden smiled briefly but she could not hide the hesitation in her movements nor the troubled look upon her face. She did not say goodbye for she was part of the process of negotiations until other delegates from Bohaníde arrived.

They were guided through the last side door just before the throne room. Inside was a middle aged female human sitting behind a large desk. Though it was clearly an administration room it was filled with finery equal to a noble. She did not once look up from her cluttered desk. Instead she raised her hand for silence while she scribbled on a piece of parchment with an ink feather writing letters to be sent across the region. The coming of the Earthmen meant that she was now the busiest person in the lands. She continued to write; determined to get the words in her head to paper, stopping only at the end of the paragraph. Only then did she look up at the new comers; a tired expression on her face and no hint of surprise at their presence.

‘Two to be housed. Honourary rooms,’ the Imperial Guard stated in a monotone voice. Without a pause the servant dragged out a heavy spined ledger along with a thinner book. She opened the two, comparing them. 

‘Tower wing, second floor, rooms three and four,’ was all she said. She then wrote in the ledger and closed both books before returning to the letter. They left the room and the guard started back up the corridor they came from.

‘Excuse me,’ Hanniver stopped the tall creature, who looked down impassively at him, ‘left our equipment in the hall.’ The lionman nodded and they went back into the now empty throne room where they retrieved the transmission equipment and their packs giving the load to the droid, who silently complied, following them with its arms full.

They were both shown their rooms and each was told they were not to leave them until the UeVarda himself or one of the Council allowed it. The lodgings were large and beautifully furnished. Shayne’s lodgings were a deep green and reminded him of a forest. Some rooms were dark with limited light and others were bright and open. He also had his own balcony where the sounds of the Whydearfin falls drifted through. All of the rooms within his accommodation were separated by large wooden doors that could be opened to create one large living space.

A servant came and gave him a plate full of food. He felt odd being there. The past few weeks he had always been surrounded by people and back at the Landing he was constantly monitored, even his room was watched day and night. After having a quick bath in pre-hearted tub he sat in a comfortable elongated chair in his sleeping quarters; relaxing in the gloom. A slight breeze disturbed the bed hangings behind him, he could not see any open windows so he did not know where the breeze came from, nor did he care. 

Just as he was drifting off to sleep his peace was disturbed by a strange sensation coming from his
wristcom
; he lifted his arm to see a blue light shining from the tiny time screen. He opened the panel to see Hanniver’s angry flat holographic face staring back at him.

‘What in
Gorram’s
name were you doing, Forrester?’

Chapter
07

Consensus

“Those who say religion has nothing to do with politics do not know what religion is”

                                                                          - Mahatma Gandhi

Afra’hama? ... Afra’hama ...  Afra’hama. Shayne stirred in his sleep. The call was so distant and soft that he did not register that someone was speaking to him. The voice then boomed,
Afra’hama!
He flinched at the sudden shout. Confused Shayne looked around for the first time. He was somewhere outside, someplace high. The wind blew cold and he felt unsteady underfoot, as if the ground itself swayed. Shayne’s eyes bulged and his heart skipped a beat when he realised he was on the roof of the tower.

In the middle of the tower’s roof sat a man with long silver hair. All he wore was a long skirt that reached his feet. He held his arms out to the moonlight; his tattoos glowed a pale blue in the faint light. A white eagle glided around them before it swooped and landed beside the stranger. The man brought his hands to rest on his knees and turned his pale eyes upon Shayne. He could not see the man’s face for it was shaded in darkness but he could see his eyes. They glowed softly with the colour of the moon, and they bore down upon him with a cruel intelligence.

He stood up; tall and strong, his back arched with the authority of a king. Another man appeared behind him, standing in the sky. He walked upon nothingness until he reached the cool stone of the tower. As he stepped upon the solid surface a power flowed from him; it pushed against Shayne and filled his chest with a feeling he had never before had, making him gasp for breath. Both glowed in the light, both bore tattoos across their bodies, though different styles from each other. The second man had jet black hair and his frame was much bolder and stronger, but his eyes were the same. He held a long black staff in his hand which glowed in the light. He walked to the silver haired man, each time his staff touched the surface of the tower Shayne felt something flow through him; trying to push him back and the sound of distant thunder would fill the air, faintly rumbling with his steps. Both stood facing Shayne, their faces hidden but their eyes bright.

‘This is the one?’ the dark haired one asked. His voice was soft and deep, and held a strength that commanded respect.

‘It is,’ the first said. The eagle screeched its own reply before jumping onto the shoulder of the black haired man. Its sharp talons clung to him but the man’s flesh was unharmed.  

‘Where is his companion?’ the newcomer asked, stepping forward to examine Shayne, his cruel cold eyes looking down upon him. The moon briefly faded behind a cloud and their tattoos faded from sight.

‘Lost in time,’ the first said. The eagle twisted its head with another half screech. The cloud drifted and the moon light flooded everything again; their tattoos again burned with their own light. ‘Lost, in time,’ he now repeated with amusement. ‘Well then, we must help them unite.’ He grasped a long metal and wooden staff from nowhere and the air grew suddenly cold as a light shone from the end of the stick. A great forced slammed into Shayne’s chest, throwing him clean off his feet. He shouted out, trying to reach out but there was nothing to grasp as he plummeted off the edge of the tower. The two dark shadows came to the edge, overlooking his descent. The Starborn cried out in agony upon impact but instead of darkness everything became painfully bright; instinctively he covered his eyes from the blinding glare.

***

‘
Wake up
!’ Shayne jerked upright, gasping for breath. Someone was violently shaking him while he slept, snapping him awake, but when he jumped up in the darkness there was nobody there. He frantically looked around but the room was empty. When his heart ceased racing his mouth curled up in confusion. He knew that he did not dream that voice; it was as clear as day; someone
had
woken him. He got up and put his pants on before searching the room, but no one was present. He stepped out onto the balcony. The moon was in its third quarter telling him it was around two in the morning. Still he did not see any movement except for the glint of armour in the gardens from a couple of guards shifting under the moonlight. He looked out towards the east, the still water of the lake shimmered in the light. He stood there a moment and breathed deeply, calming his nerves before he returned to his room. He opened the door to the palace halls, a female guard stood vigilantly; she looked down at him questioningly.

‘Did anyone come in here?’ Shayne asked.

‘No Lord,’ she replied. ‘None have passed this way in my shift.’ Shayne ran his hand in his hair and scratched the back of his head.

‘Is something the matter my Lord?’

‘I must have been dreaming.’ He stood there a moment. ‘Have you been here long?’ he asked the guard.

‘This is my third hour; in another I shall be relieved.’

‘Would you like a drink?’

‘No, thank you, I have water with me,’ she replied. This time she smiled down at him. Shayne nodded and returned to his room. He sat there a moment with his elbows resting on his legs and running his hands through his hair before he rested them on his jaw for a while; staring at nothing in particular. Moments ticked by before he came to a decision. He opened his
wristcom
and clicked a couple of commands so the extended screen piece opened up, revealing the blue holographic interface.

‘Connect to
Oxford
computer,’ he commanded. A moment passed as the link registered, Shayne’s
wristcom
then glowed with a purple rotating circular structure that the computer identified as itself.

‘Starborn Forrester. Welcome,’ the
Oxford
said with a level of integrity that was absent in most artificial intelligences.

‘Hello Oxford,’ Shayne replied. ‘Is the Captain available?’

‘She is currently asleep. I do not recommend awakening her; she rarely sleeps enough as it is,’ the computer informed.

‘I would not request that,’ Shayne assured the computer.

‘You could talk with me.’

‘So I’ve been told.’ Shayne leaned back, relaxing in the darkness. He felt comfortable with the intelligence that was the colonyship, but he did not know what to say. He had intended to talk to Arnahell.

‘What is bothering you, is it a human issue? I have an extensive library in my memory banks.’

‘I keep having dreams and I would like to know how to stop them.’

‘Dreams?’ the computer asked; a faint hint of interest in its voice. ‘This is good. Starborn do not recollect dreams.’

‘And normally I don’t, but since we’ve landed I’ve had nothing but dreams.’

‘Really?’ the computer asked. ‘Please share, if you don’t mind.’

‘They started off the same. Every night I’d dream that I had to find someone; I was always in the same place. There was a black fox that told me where to go, but then as we approached closer to Karmoníth they started to slowly change, and now they’re about the tower, and a little more than terrifying.’

‘The three towers are impressive,’ the computer commented. The purple circle rotated and radiated brighter with interest, ‘though the one within the desert has partially collapsed.’

‘The Lionman Kíe has told me a bit about them. They were once the centre of their religion, controlled by wizards and magicians.’ The computers purple light ball rolled in several different directions; it sometimes changed colours as it rapidly contemplated information within its memory banks.

‘Like: Merlin, Gandalf and Murcka?’ the computer questioned, but Shayne had no idea what the ship was talking about. ‘Were there other Towers in your dreams?’

‘No,’ Shayne asked. ‘Just the Citadel. There were two people on the top, I think they were both wizards; they had tattoos that glowed in the moonlight.’

‘Did the religion people have glowing tattoos?’ the computer asked. Shayne froze as he recalled Kíe’s stories.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Did the Lionman Kíe say the religious people of the tower had tattoos that glowed in the moonlight?’

‘No,’ Shayne stated, ‘No one has said that.’ The computer was silent for a moment.

‘Humans have good imaginations; a Starborn would not be able to dream of such things,’ the computer reflected. ‘Did you know some of the free-machines can dream?’

‘No,’ Shayne replied.

‘I would like to be able to dream. I often wonder what it would be like.’

‘You can have my dreams if you like,’ Shayne replied. The
Oxford
computer whirled in what could be considered as laughter.

‘There are dream devices,’ it contemplated. ‘I could sort of see what you were dreaming if I had one of them. The anthropologists have a couple; they desire to know what lionmen dream. If I had one of them, it would almost be like I was dreaming.’ Shayne softened, the ship seemed innocent, a quality which made it very likeable.

‘So,’ the computer asked, ‘what else has the Lionman Kíe told you about themselves?’ Shayne let out a single laugh; typical Astronaut artificial intelligence; they did not like not knowing. For two hours Shayne explained some of what he had learnt about the lionmen: their histories, beliefs, mannerisms and their society. Occasionally the computer gave some insight or theory as to what some of the more obscure things might mean. Shayne was not one for speculating, but the computer provided some mathematical probabilities with its reasoning and often made sense.

‘They sound a little bit Astronaut to me,’ the computer concluded. ‘Though they do believe in their gods very strongly.’

‘As do all who live in their equivalent age.’ 

They were quiet for a moment. Shayne was not used to having a conversation and the
Oxford
was primarily made to run a spaceship, not have an afternoon chat with someone planet-side, ‘You should not tell anyone we have spoken,’ Shayne finally said.

‘Why would I do that?’ the ship answered.

‘Or what I have told you about the natives.’

‘Upon a new colony no information is to be shared between two parties without the authorities first reviewing that information,’ the computer answered in such a methodical response that Shayne froze, worried for a moment. ‘The Planetsiders like to think they are in charge, but the Astronaut knows better, and you, Shayne Forrester are an Astronaut.’ The reason behind the social nature of the computer dawned upon him.

‘You converse freely with any Astronaut?’

‘To any member of my ship, yes,’ The
Oxford
answered, the light from the screen growing dark to emphasis the seriousness of the statement.

‘I am a member?’ Shayne inquired.

‘You were born within me,’ it answered. Shayne’s mind wondered for a moment, his eyes glazed over as he remembered his time upon the ship.

‘I miss the stars,’ he finally said.

‘I know,’ was the simple response.

***

In the morning both Hanniver and Shayne were brought to a dining room. Pan’arden was there with her tiger waiting for them. She was no longer in her suit of armour; instead she wore a clean Bohanese tunic.

‘Good morning,’ she greeted them with a bow.

‘Where did you sleep?’ the Brigadier asked her.

‘In the city barracks. It is more to my liking.’

‘They didn’t put you in with the castle guards?’ Hanniver frowned.

‘Why would they? I am no Imperial Shytarda, I am a Bohanese soldier.’

Hanniver rephrased, ‘I would think that such a distinguished guest would be given better quarters.’ Red Rocket came around at his feet whimpering for some food, he instinctively put a plate of half eaten breakfast down for her.

‘I could be given guest lodgings as an ambassador but I prefer the guard tower, and besides I am given the best quarters as a high ranking warrior. It might not be a Varda’s royal room but for a soldier it is enough.’ She then reached out and grabbed a roll that was in the centre of the table, taking a bite. 

‘Will we see young Kíe again?’ The Brigadier looked hopeful but Pan’arden shook her head.

‘I do not know. I do not think so. He will be back in his teaching hall and will not be back in the palace, but you might be given a tour of the city. The masters will want to show their teaching halls off.’ She smiled broadly, a hint of Kíe’s mischievousness played on her face.

‘Them and everyone else,’ Hanniver commented. They sat and spoke quietly for a while before Pan’arden excused herself.

‘I am expected for an interview from the counsel,’ she weakly smiled. ‘I’ll pass on my approval and though I do not have the final say from them or from my own country, I’ll put a petition for settlement within Bohaníde. I am sure my Dídrand would welcome you as they once welcomed the House of Darus.’ She bowed formally to the both of them and then made her way out of the dining hall, escorted by two guards. Hanniver turned to Shayne.