Star Gods: Book Four of Seeds of a Fallen Empire

  Though Derstan appreciated the beauty of his home planet, he had grown to love Kayria! No matter what any one else said to the contrary, he loved the Kayrian character and culture. A few tendays later, Derstan had been invited by the great scientist Hinev to join the proposed explorer project, as long as he was willing to undergo ‘physical experiments’ to prepare him for the mission. Derstan had gone to the assembly gathering several other candidates, flattered by the honor.

  To his amazement, he recognized the half-Kayrian "technician" he had met earlier, but the man was introduced as Fynals Hinev himself! Derstan passed the directive's testing and turned down the commission offered to him by the Martial Scientific Force. He finished his training and joined the experimental group several tendays later than the others.

  When asked why Hinev had invited him, the scientist replied that despite Derstan's ability, it was Derstan’s personal charm and integrity that had secured him a position in the team. And Derstan had responded enthusiastically to a mere technician, moreover a half-race man. He had not been prejudiced or looked down upon the technician.

  Alessia could see what Hinev had admired: Derstan's smile was infectious, and his field of interests broad enough that he would be able to hold a considerable conversation with the appropriate enthusiasm on any subject with any person he met.

  Yet Derstan’s mother and brother still lived. He had already made his last farewell...

  “Don’t want to go into that, huh?” Derstan said, kneading his forehead. “I hardly blame you for that. It was a very difficult afternoon.”

  “I think everyone understands.” Lierva called over, listening. “I would also like to share my memories,” Lierva said to Alessia, coming closer.

  ...Lierva Kazenkov was several years older than the others and had been a Major in the Martial Scientific Force. She wasn’t going to let anyone forget that! She had been assigned to Lake Firien when construction of the new Selesta began. Even Kiel, then her subordinate, had made several reports to her, and in time she had taken an interest in the explorers and their mission.

  Lierva had been trained as a pilot, and she was proud of her various skills and background in scouting and defense tactics, strategic analysis, aeronomy and various other planetary sciences related to the study of atmospheric anomalies. These were things she had earned after hard work and application, things no mind link could render valueless, because it had taught her mind and body beyond the simple facts that could be read from others.

  Lierva had once believed in heroes. Did she still? Did she believe in the man she had once thought so heroic and noble and wise? She still remembered her own words, her defense against his surprise when he learned what she kept hidden...

  I will not apologize for loving you, Hinev, but I will not tolerate being treated as you treated me–

  No, that part is mine, Lieva thought coldly, struggling strongly to pull away her thoughts from Alessia’s mind. I didn’t mean for you to see that part.

  Over by her place, Lierva showed no outward sign of having communicated to Alessia at all, or of having shown the newcomer into her surface thoughts.

  “Anything the matter, Alessia?” Ioka wondered. “For a moment, you seemed distracted.”

  For a moment, Alessia was in shock. Lierva, Lierva had loved Hinev! Had he loved her in return? Alessia was surprised, but realized it was not her business to know the answer, unless Lierva wanted her to know it.

  “I am sorry, no, nothing’s wrong, I was just letting all of this sink in.” Alessia said.

  Meanwhile, Celekar Calain gave Alessia a severe look, as though he were skeptical, or just wondering about her.

  “Thinking about Hinev?” he sensed.

  “You knew him well?” Alessia guessed.

  “Very well.” Celekar rejoined, watching her.

  “You were involved in The Firien Project from the beginning–like Kiel, Lierva, and Kellar.”

  “Right again.” Celekar nodded.

  “Celekar and Lierva are old friends.” Derstan explained with a wink. “He’s a Valerian fighter pilot with a specialization in spacecraft maintenance.”

  “A highly skilled technician and he worked on the actual construction of Selesta with the teams of engineers, technicians, and constructors.” Lierva added, with a hint of admiration.

  “Why did you decide to become an explorer, Celekar?” Alessia wondered.

  “You don’t see me as one who would be very interested in planetary cultures or sciences?” Celekar chuckled secretively. “Well, among other things, I suppose I couldn’t let the greatest thing I ever created out of my sight.”

  “Selesta is magnificent.” Broah cocked a brow. “And Lierva was going on its first mission.”

  “Broah!” Ioka laughed at her friend’s audacity.

  “Busybodies.” The rough-faced Celekar said, scratching his cheek with nonchalance. “But more than anything I was willing to remain with this ship no matter where it might go.”

  Does Celekar hold a grudge against Hinev for some reason? Alessia asked Broah privately. She had sensed something strange about their relationship just then.

  What? Not that I know of, Broah responded.

  “Celekar, did you take up painting before or after the serum?” Vala Hanaserov asked from behind the plane, where she and Talden were cleaning up the cake.

  Mindra Dvarek had been sitting among the others without saying a word.

  “Afterward, of course,” Celekar said, shaking his head, not letting Vala’s attempt to tease him concern him at all. “I never would have thought I could do it before, considering that I didn’t even think about trees except as building material until after the serum metamorphosis.”

  “Really, how interesting.” Vala tried to suppress a smile and failed.

  “Now, I am a changed man. I value the trees.” Celekar seemed unafraid of anyone, least of all what they thought. What he believed he wouldn’t hide, but he didn’t always volunteer information. There was an air of mystery about him; he seemed like a giant, unweatherable, unmoveable rock standing alone in a field, where there was a multitude of activity going on underneath.

  “I’d like to make a mindlink next.” Mindra threw out suddenly.

  “I suppose,” Alessia agreed quietly.

  ...Mindra Dvarek, bitter and defensive, logical but unreasoning as far as emotions were concerned, had been born in the Gerren plains southeast of Ariyalsynai. Her father had left her mother when Mindra was young, and Mindra's mother had raised Mindra and her elder brother on her small provisions allowance from the resource center where she worked as a provisions organizer.

  Mindra's brother had taken out his anger at their father on her, beating her until dark patches showed up under her skin. She hid the bruises from her mother, partly out of pride and partly because her mother had enough problems to worry about. And Mindra was ashamed to admit that she couldn’t take care of herself, that she was physically weak.

  Though the androids could have reported the beatings, Mindra’s brother had been clever enough to dismantle their neural units, and he also managed to beat her when no one else was around.

  Mindra's brother then left home a few years later to join a trader's guild journeying to Tulor. Mindra and her mother had never seen him again. But Mindra had excelled in his absence, applying herself to the study of physics. Where the situation of a humble birth had cheated her, nature had blessed her with a keen, quick intelligence, and she was able to climb her way out of poverty and ignominy to the elite of the Federation Science Building, where she later became a joint officer in the Martial Scientific Force.

  There Mindra had become a reasonably good pilot and accomplished mechanics specialist and astrophysicist. When she had heard of Hinev's call for explorer candidates, she knew that it was her chance to escape her past for good. At least, that was what she had hoped. Mos
t of all she yearned for a new life and new friendships. A new life and a chance to regain her spirit was what she had always needed.

  * * * * *

  “What’s she telling you?” Talden asked, drawing beside Mindra and clapping her on the shoulder.

  “Nothing you don’t already know,” Mindra said, exasperated, at the round-faced man with bright, curious eyes.

  “Go ahead, Alessia,” he said. “I haven’t figured out quite yet when to interrupt.”

  ...Talden Faehey, dreamer, artist, idealist, a natural mimic, always thorough and infinitely perceptive, but at times a bungling conversationalist, had been born in a mostly Tulorian settlement in Kilkor, but he was Seynorynaelian. Like his father, he had become a multi-cultural expert in his youth, but at the Scientific Learning Center in Kilkor, he had expanded his understanding of the technological, philosophical, linguistic, and artistic differences between Seynorynaelians and the first three alien races contacted in ancient history.

  Talden's expertise secured him a high-ranking position in the Martial Scientific Force, where he was in training to become a cultural attaché to the Seynorynaelian Council Seat on Tulor. Before he had finished his training, Hinev had found him and organized his formal withdrawal to allow him to join the explorer candidates.

  Talden had no regrets, or at least chose not to dwell on them; he remained more enthusiastic than regretful at the prospect of so many cultures to learn about and record for the sake of posterity.

  “Talden was the only one of us aside from Derstan who stood a chance of leaving Seynorynael any time in the near future, before we were chosen as Hinev’s explorers,” Ioka added.

  “Unless there’s something about Alessia we don’t know,” Vala Hanaserov said, coming and sitting down on the sleep panel. She was a lovely, quiet woman with serene eyes. Her eyes had an expression of one who knows far more than she is letting on.

  Hanaserov, Alessia thought. That was definitely a Firien name!

  “Vala, doesn’t that name mean ‘the heavens’ in one of the Firien dialects?” Alessia asked.

  An uncomfortable silence descended on them; all eyes turned to Vala.

  “Why, yes, it does,” Vala admitted, surprised, scanning Alessia’s face carefully.

  Strange eyes, Vala thought, looking at Alessia’s eyes.

  What do you mean?

  Nothing, I didn’t mean to be rude, Vala shook her head.

  ...Vala Hanaserov would endure any trial and never say a word about it. That was the way she had always dealt with problems. Her father had been an example to her since her childhood in Melacre, a large community between Ariyalsynai and Lake Firien, just within the weather-safe ring; he had taught her the power of self-control.

  Vala suspected her father's calm disposition had been hard won, because she was sure he was a proto-telepath. Vala's early concern for her mother's poor health, injured creatures, even the decimation of the trees in the way of expansion in the nearby Allatian forest did not go unnoticed by him.

  Vala had learned from him how to control her emotions, how to focus her mind to seek out the answer in the thousands of stimuli she received telepathically, how to see the whole clearly and then find the path. But after her mother's death she couldn’t stay in Melacre, where the control she had achieved had been threatened.

  She entered formal training and found in her love for learning all kinds of things that it was difficult to narrow her field of specialization choices. She read legend lore as a hobby and began training as a biochemist. But four years into her specialization, the year Hinev and his explorers returned, she read the accounts of their journey and switched her specialization to astrochemistry.

  The civilizations intrigued her, the chemistry astounded her, but it was the images of far off galaxies and the swirling purple clouds of nebulae that captured her romantic heart. She applied herself with zeal to her new calling and finished in only three years with an astrochemist specialization and sub-specialization in bio-chemistry. That enthusiasm for all new things had not passed by Hinev, nor had her latent abilities as a proto-telepath. When Vala was called in for an interview, she was not told she was being considered as an explorer candidate. Meeting Hinev himself almost broke her composure.

  She very nearly shouted when she discovered that she would be going to the stars!

  “What about you, Alessia?” Vala asked, studying her carefully. “What about your past, your childhood? Can you tell us about yourself? Your name sounds familiar.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve heard it once before,” Vala said steadily, but her eyes narrowed with intense interest.

  “Why did Hinev send you to us?” Celekar asked, his face stony.

  “I presume because I was his assistant in Ariyalsynai, he knew he could rely upon me,” Alessia explained, “and then I spent a few years training with the Martial Scientific Force under Ungarn.”

  “We knew that. What about your family?” Mindra wondered.

  “I don’t–have one.”

  “You’re a strange one, Alessia.” Talden said agreeably.

  “Why do you say that?” She turned back to him.

  “Because most people love to talk about their lives,” Talden laughed, looking at Broah.

  “Well, I’m the last person who’d force any one to talk about their family situation.” Derstan shrugged. “Anyway, haven’t we done enough talking for one day? I’d like another piece of that fabulous cake before it’s gone.”

  Lierva, Celekar, and Mindra just stared at Alessia as some of the others got up to carve up the last of the cake. Alessia was thinking of Hinev.

  Hinev, who had seemed so lost and defeated when they parted.

  Hinev, a mentor who had been almost like another father to her. No child willingly betrayed its father. What did she owe these people? Nothing yet.

  But if they read her thoughts, they would know that Hinev had been a collaborator with Marankeil. Hinev had conspired with Marankeil to create them, risking their lives by doing so. All of the things the serum could have done to them and all of the creatures they might have become–they still didn’t know about it all, about the many risks Hinev had taken with their lives.

  Would they ever be able to forgive Hinev if they knew he had used them as experimental subjects?

  Somehow she doubted they would.

  Yet despite what he had done, Hinev had loved and cared for her, and he had trusted her. She could not betray him. She wouldn’t. Not for anyone or anything in the world.

  She decided to make a conscious effort at being diplomatic. She would have to keep her secrets in order to protect Hinev’s. After all, once the explorers conquered their initial curiosity about her, they wouldn’t care any more what she kept to herself.

  At the same time, she knew she could not betray Hinev’s secrets to them, in case they aborted the mission. But why did the mission matter so much to her that she went willingly to fulfill Marankeil’s wishes?

  She didn’t really even know why. All of the explorers were so excited about their mission, so loyal and dutiful to their posts, that they never even considered mutiny and anarchy.

  As it turned out, time after time, Alessia didn’t make a mindlink with anyone, and kept her secrets to herself.

  * * * * *

  The ship Selesta's preparations had been made. The take-off date had been set. On the day of the explorers' departure, a day that dawned clear and cold on the surface of the planet Seynorynael, Alessia stood beneath one of the observation windows. Soon, the fading image of the small bluish-white sphere they called home, had always called home, diminished to a bright point in the enveloping sky. Then the Selesta made the final test of its tachiyon density engines and warped away.

  The universe permitted no observers to see the force that ripped space-time into a passage backward in time but forward in motion. Ho
wever, Hinev’s explorers could perceive its energy around them and a part of them while they briefly became electrical beings in subspace for the first time.

  Then they felt their energy return on the same vector, retracing the pattern of their initial path as the ship approached the real time barrier, where events and motion moved forward again. In the subspace flight, the flow of time had reversed, moving backward as the ship sped beyond the light-speed barrier. While Alessia and the others had free movement until the moment the ship began to decelerate back towards real time, Alessia’s own action became controlled as she was pulled back to the physical being standing by the Observation Window; the others were scattered across the ship.

  Time had no meaning in subspace. Not even a second had passed in forward time as the ship was catapulted across the galaxy. The moment almost ceased to be, caught in an unnatural loop, but the explorers remembered it; their energy state perceived the intangible world and every microscopic rift in space-time, reaching out to contact them.

  Suddenly she blinked at an unfamiliar backdrop of stars. Selesta had warped across space.

  Like many of the others, Alessia had never before left her own world, and the departure forever branded itself in her memory. What was out there? She was going to find out! The thought slowly, finally set in.

  Now she had committed herself to the galaxy and the unknown.

  There was no going back.

  Not for an age or longer.

  Chapter Eight

 

  “Alessia, take a look out there,” Kellar said loudly as Alessia walked onto the bridge. Several tendays had passed since take-off.

  “Sure, a moment.” Alessia said. There had been nothing but tranquillity for quite some time, almost nine months, since the Selesta left the area of the original five Federation systems. “There’s a lovely nebula out there on the left side of the viewport,” Kellar said. “The Ironyces Nebula. I’ve been admiring it for a while.”