Kalvich and Talokta were sharing a meal together in Kalvich’s private dining room discussing the final preparations and strategies to put into play. They agreed they would communicate whenever they had to, using their rings, because telepathy was too risky now as Leah could inadvertently listen in to their thoughts.
Kalvich, in his Cemel disguise, would remain so until after the Celebrations. The operation on Talokta was successful, and he possessed his master’s DNA, features, memories and powers.
He was, technically, immortal.
To any casual observer, they looked like a grandfather and grandson laughing, eating, and chatting.
Now Leah was inside the fortress, the real Cemel, still underground, had been moved to a segregated security cell deep at the far end of the fortress grounds. He was under heavy guard and a deadly force field surrounded the whole room. Anything that came into contact would be vaporized. The old wizard had no wish to try it out, immortal or otherwise. He still valued his limbs. All he was concerned about was Leah. He missed her so much, but that was not important to what was at stake. How much would she remember was his key thought?
A slave brought food to the guard outside the closed cell and left immediately. The guard on duty would pass the food to the old man. He had gone without food for many, many days and survived only thanks to his immortality, but he missed food and was at least granted this small mercy. However, his cauldron, ingredients, and books were removed, and he was no longer allowed to practice magic at all. He spent most of his time meditating to remain focused and stave off boredom. He wondered if the reincarnated queen would remember the telepathy lessons he gave her those thousands of years ago. God, he had tried to reach her, but he had little strength thanks to the dark forces that prevailed.
The warlord took as much sadistic pleasure as he could muster from his victim’s misery. There was nothing like punishing the old man for taking his Leah away those thousands of years ago. Very soon, he would destroy the wizard forever. The new, temporary Cemel, always the perfectionist, wanted to make sure everything went to plan and as scheduled. He wanted Leah to enjoy the best he could offer, but his little charade still uncharacteristically made him nervous.
If ever the truth was discovered.
Upon mentioning his concern to his Commander, the “new” Kalvich suggested that one of his first duties as Supreme Ruler should be to instruct one of the older servants, who had been in service for a long time, to carry out the task of looking after and preparing Leah for the coming ceremony and celebrations. If the servant thought something was wrong or they thought the slave was suspicious, they could easily dispose of the slave without question.
So, Kalvich called for Sini, who had been in the Supreme Ruler’s service for forty odd years and was the most trusted servant inside the Fortress. He told her she had a task that was going to be the most important she would ever have in her lifetime. After explaining about the queen’s pending arrival and what she must do, Sini did not flutter or blink an eye and acknowledged with a curtsy.
“Of course, my lord.”
Cemel, in an adjacent room searched her mind. As far as she was concerned, she was talking to her master and as far as he was concerned, she was loyal to the Supreme Ruler.
He was satisfied.
The next task was to replace Montava and Chotar who were to return to the Sotoid domain ship with instructions that their Commander was on a covert security mission, and they were to either take a few days leave or remain on their ship until further orders.
Cemel had decided he did not want to clone Leah’s OBF companions—too risky and too many loose threads for his comfort. Instead his scientists were preparing a procedure to insert a microscopic device called a Mitiff (literal meaning is child or small object) into the cerebrum that, was in effect, a miniature computer, where they would download a program giving each individual a new set of memories, beginning from the time they touched down on Heliostronus. Selected thoughts and memories of their stay in the mines would be replaced with memories of staying at the fortress in luxury and being treated like Kings.
Kalvich wanted to oversee the transfer of the three team members to make sure nothing went wrong. Cemel, at first was reluctant as it would look unusual for “him” to be present on such a mundane task. But again, the stakes were high. So, Kalvich, a Verone Elite guard, and a dozen troops set out in a Tremulus heading for the mines.
Balock had received some unusual orders that no harm or physical punishment was to be inflicted on these three particular humans-under any circumstances. They were to be placed into a separate cage away from all other prisoners. He had grudgingly moved them to a separate cage, which meant only one thing: special treatment.
The ensuring uproar was deafening with the protesting against this blatant act of favoritism.
“So we’re not good enough for you!”
“Why do they get a cage and we are crammed in like Zimmies in a druggie’s bloodstream?”
“Special treatment for human scum? What’s so special about them?”
Balock’s answer to everything was his cat o nine tails whip that he would hurtle down quick as a flash to any exposed fingers gripping the cage bars.
Now, in front of the team’s new cage he slowly began a snarling grin that exposed his nightmarish foul mouth.
“Have you ever thought about booking in for some serious dental treatment?” Tremaine casually commented. Balock moved up to Tremaine, only the bars separating them. Tremaine screwed his face up and waved his hand in front of his nose. “Well, how about just using a few hundred gallons of mouth rinse?”
“You are a real funny human, aren’t you? I was warned about you,” Balock sneered. “Well, human scum, you are going to be leaving these fair walls soon. Our Supreme Ruler wants you as his guests. But before you go, just remember this, we liken you human scum to pests, cockroaches in your galaxy. Undisciplined, persistent, and nosey, this is your downfall. With one step, we can crush you. We will destroy you. Very soon your kind will feel the might of the great Trimadian force.”
Pete ignored the threatening words and focused on what was ahead. His heart started pumping hard. Leah. Has she come to help them, is there hope?
Tremaine could not help but smirk. Guests of torture or is Leah behind this, well, what now, queenie?
They had only experienced a couple of nights in this hellhole, but they could feel the strain already.
Balock cracked his whip against the cage. “Get back from the door. Valuu, Valuu.”
A guard unlocked the bolt and the men filed out. Balock’s orders were to make sure they were chain locked together so there was no way they would get ideas. Balock took exception to that, as no prisoners since his regime had even attempted to escape, well, at least made it to the outside. All prisoners knew too well, as was publicly demonstrated, that once captured, the guards would extract sadistic pleasure from their inevitable punishment. Death would come later.
They lined the team up behind each other and chain ganged them at the neck, waist, and hands.
“Fucking charming,” Mason commented. “Your Kingpin Ruler sure knows how to make you feel welcome.” Mason, like Tremaine was feeling very edgy.
“Silence!” Balock shouted. He had to stop himself from using his whip or the Verone Guard would skin his hide.
The three men were marched out of the cavern amidst boos and curses. They were boarded on the lift that took them to the top. From there the guards waited under the thatched roof, and the men were stood under the scorching sun. The environmental change was so intense the men could not open their eyes for a while.
“A bit of sun will do you good,” Balock sneered.
After ten minutes, Balock had turned his head and was talking into his ring communicator. They could hear him quietly conversing in Trimadian.
He turned to the prisoners. “Right, you lot, we’re heading out now.”
The journey out was exactly the same as the way in.
Once more, they marched the one hundred meters and stopped at a spot with no markings or signs. Everywhere were sand dunes and heat, and not much else. “They must use a type of GPS–those rings they use would be my guess,” Mason commented to Tremaine.
The sun was right above their heads, and they could not tell what direction they were facing. Tremaine spotted a black dot on the horizon growing larger by the second. Within eight seconds the craft had landed. Half of the dozen guards swiftly exited, followed by the prestigious Verone Elite guard. They all stood stiffly to attention. When Kalvich stepped out, the mining guards were so taken aback, they forgot to salute. They were told a Verone Elite would be overseeing this, which was unusual in itself. But to see the Supreme Ruler‑it was unheard of.
When his brain moved into working mode once more, Balock hesitantly stepped forward, bowing deeply and stuttered, “Your lordship‑Supreme Ruler‑I‑I had no idea. If I had been told you were coming—”
Kalvich held up his hand to silence him.
“Do not speak to me unless I permit it.”
“I‑I’m sorry sir, I—”
Kalvich turned and silently assessed the three humans who were looking pretty much the worse for wear. Humans were not hardy or strong like the favored Cantals. Apart from sun exposure, slight dehydration and a hand wound on the leader, they may be all right. He would have to make sure all three were in top physical health before Leah set eyes on them.
Kalvich’s eyes of steel locked with Balock’s. The man looked as though he was going to wet himself. Kalvich smiled at that thought. He laughed even harder when Balock did wet himself out of sheer fear. The Supreme Ruler was starting to enjoy his new role.
In all fairness, he knew Balock was a good mining leader: loyal, trustworthy, with a real nasty streak, but he lacked the drive and brains to do anything else. Balock and his men had not seen battle for years, and they were basically, out of touch, and ill prepared. All other Trimadian masters and their fleets were true to their race and used their initiative to keep ahead with constantly updated training techniques and technology. There may come the day when these mining guards will need those skills to survive. This matter would need to be discussed and action taken with the Verone Elite after the ceremony.
Without further ado, he saluted with his arm across the chest and boarded the ship. The Verone Elite guard yelled out a command, and his soldiers stepped aside to allow the three nervous humans to enter the Tremulus.
When they were all aboard, the Verone Elite guard ordered their chains to be removed, and the guards shoved the hapless men into the seats.
Kalvich did not address the prisoners whatsoever and sat at the rear to study them. Yes, he could quite clearly read their thoughts. The black one, Mason, held a slight hope that Leah would rescue them. The one called Tremaine was angry and held a certain disregard for her generally and held no hope for survival. The one he was interested in was the archaeologist Pete Reynolds, who was far more interested in seeing and being with Leah on a more personal level. He was a man obsessed with seeing a woman he had missed greatly. However, his true passion was submerged by the presence of the Cathexistome inside him and Kalvich knew that caused utter frustration.
He decided that his initial plan to use Pete Reynolds as a spy in the human ranks was not going to work. Instead, he toyed with the idea to do further experiments on him after the Celebrations, maybe see how long the man would last once the Cathexistome in him was forcibly removed. It was proven that sudden removal brought on extreme agony and stress to the physical host. Now, they had a real human specimen, he may release Sataal and let him carry on his experimentation, under guard. During long missions that took his fleets out of the Nextraprime Galaxy, he had taken it upon himself to study Sataal’s experiments and results in the fields of using modified crystals on organic matter. The Crytaalic results were amazing.
Deep down, he could not wait until Pete Reynolds was dead and gone. Say good-bye to your boyfriend, Leah.
Since leaving his vessel, the surrogated Kalvich found it relatively easy to leave his thoughts about her behind. But he was in for a challenge when he would have no choice but to be in her presence again. He knew Cemel was watching her almost every moment and was more confident she was making good progress towards her feelings to the Trimadians and, of course, Kalvich.
He was confident his many years of discipline would ensure he was in perfect control and therefore, not jeopardize anything. He would not allow any weakness in front of his master.
The OBF1 team was both surprised and fascinated to see the great Supreme Ruler for the first time, up close and personal. They naturally assumed that such a menial task as moving prisoners would be delegated to the lower ranks. However, in this situation, they must be considerably more important to the Ruler’s plans for him to personally oversee. After five minutes, their journey had ended. The team was back in the huge hangar.
Kalvich and his Verone Elite Guard with half of the guards had silently disembarked and headed out to another ship and disappeared. This time when the team disembarked, no chains were worn, though the remaining guards trained their gloctols on them as they escorted them to a soft lift.
The guard leading them gave a verbal command inside the lift and the movement or more like the lack of movement was uncanny. Mason thought the inertia dampeners must be incredible. It was hard to tell in which direction they were traveling. After thirty seconds, the lift opened, and they were duly marched through a corridor that was lined with some type of flame torches, with no smoke emitting from them. He would love to study that; it had to be some kind of chemical reaction. He looked back at the lift—strange, there was nothing there, no doorway or outlines—just a wall with a glowing torch. Oh boy, this is getting weird. Was this just another prison? Was it technology or magic? Perhaps here they were the same.
Tremaine and Mason, both atheists, were learning to keep an open mind.
The corridor they traveled through was filled with huge wooden doors, all exact replicas of each other, with torches dividing them. The whole atmosphere inside gave the impression of a medieval period, but with endless corridors. The Trimadians seemed to copy off Earth’s histories. Even the standard uniforms of the Trimadian troops, though sophisticated and made of unusual protective material, looked like they were borrowed from Caesar’s Roman Empire. Did Kalvich fancy himself as a Julius Caesar? Did the Trimadian’s copy Earth’s history and cultures or did they themselves have a hand in creating it? As an archaeologist, Pete would have liked to discuss the Trimadians’ history with either Kalvich or Cemel, even their captor Talokta. Whatever situation the team were in, why pass up an historical opportunity? A more startling thought occurred. Was it possible, as the Trimadians had been around for so long, that their Earth invasion in 4000 B.C., in some form or other, contributed to some of Earth’s great civilizations? What if Queen Leah had survived? Would the human race still be the same, still exist if she had joined with Kalvich, or would she have destroyed it? Her death only gave pause. All this sent shivers up his spine.
On and on they marched. The air was clear and smelt fresh, so ventilation and temperature were good. Pete was hoping they were not heading for dungeons or more torture sessions.
Then again, anything after the mines of Heliostronus would be a blessing.
At that thought, their march came to an abrupt halt. They had stopped outside a door that was no different to any of the seemingly hundreds of others they had passed. Tremaine wondered how the hell could they tell the difference between each door, did they count them?
The guard yelled out “Brehm!” and the door silently slid open. That startled the men as the door looked like it was made of heavy English oak and would need a couple of guards to pull it open. This had to be an illusion. They entered the room and the door closed soundlessly behind them. No guard had entered with them.
They stood looking around. The room was pleasant and spacious, like any run of the mill living r
ooms back home. There were two large sofas and chairs, a coffee table with a basket of fruit, and gourds of liquid. Tremaine spied a wide screen television. What reception would one get here? Two fifty million years you would be waiting, an awful long time to get the latest news! Maybe it was for using a PlayStation, ha! Yeah, space invaders, of course. But all in all, it looked, compared to what they had experienced over the past couple of days, normal.
Tremaine and Mason headed for the food and began eating. Food and drink was the only thing on their minds at this point in time. In between mouthfuls of a weird looking apple that had the texture of jelly, Mason commented, “Did anyone notice the leading guard’s right hand?”
Tremaine, whose mouth was full of berries that made his tongue glow a fluorescent pink, shook his head to the negative.
Mason continued, “His middle finger had a silver ring on it, very shiny, same as that ring on Balock’s finger. Remember when Balock turned his head and spoke into the ring? It is some sort of tracking and communication tool. When that guard stopped outside our door, I swear it was pulsating red. I honestly think this whole scenario is an illusion for our benefit.”
Tremaine mumbled sarcastically, “Benefit, yeah, for them you mean. I did wonder about that myself.” They looked over at Pete who had not moved from when they first entered.
“Illusion,” he repeated, nodding. “Oh yes,” he said. “I agree wholeheartedly.” His eyes were wide and his face was as white as a ghost.
The men stared at him.
“You okay?” Mason said.
“Yeah, yeah, fine. But this room, it’s‑it’s‑it can’t be!”
He rubbed his eyes and peered out–nothing had changed. “Guys, this is my front room! This is my house back on Earth!”
Chapter 36—The Ultimate Catalyst