Chapter Six
Tallyn entered the Council’s echoing hall, where pink quartz pillars, veined with gold, flanked an expanse of silver-speckled black marble floor. The pillars supported a high domed roof covered with intricate mosaics of ancient Atlantean legends, picked out in different kinds of quartz. He approached the twelve elderly men who sat behind a decorative carved table at the back of the hall. Within the three-sided square the elders formed, he stopped and bowed to the man in the middle, a thin-faced individual with piercing dark eyes, who sat on an elevated chair.
“I believe I have found the golden girl child,” Tallyn announced.
“Do you? And who is the boy?” Vargon’s deep voice was not quite in keeping with his elderly looks.
The elders had already viewed holofilms of the two humans Tallyn had brought back, so his knowledge came as no surprise. “He’s her brother, First One, and, although he’s not mentioned in the prophecy, I believe he’s her guardian.”
Some of the Council members turned to whisper to each other. Vargon glanced at them, then addressed Tallyn again. “As you say, it’s not mentioned in the prophecy that the girl would have a guardian, but I see no harm in it. Certainly they are perfect, when all the others are sickly and dying.”
“Yes, First One.”
“How do they feel about their capture?” Vargon enquired with the unhurried assurance of an elderly tortoise.
“They’re not happy, and they’ll be even unhappier with the tests and implants you mean to implement.”
Vargon rubbed his lips. “Can’t be helped, I’m afraid. Anyone would object to being poked and prodded, but we’ve been quite polite about it. We could have kept them under heavy sedation until we were finished. They’re lucky they know as much as they do. Others would not have been so gentle with them.”
“Considering who she might be, I think we should try to treat them well.”
“Yes, well, you do tend to think an awful lot, don’t you, Commander? They’re almost primitives. What do they know?”
“I know that if she’s the Golden Child, our fate rests in her hands, and that’s not something to be taken lightly.”
“No, of course not. See to it that they’re treated well, Commander. I’ll leave it up to you. Just don’t break any rules, okay?”
Vargon waved a dismissive hand, and Tallyn bowed and strode out. As usual, his encounter with the Council left him frustrated and a little angry. The members’ inflexible, inscrutable ways were a great impediment to his wish to communicate more fundamental issues to them.
The Council was not known for considering the feelings of others, other than being polite when confronted. The rights of primitive aliens, however, ranked low on its list of priorities. This was strange in a society that was supposed to be free and just, but then, sometimes those rights were reserved for the members of its own race.
At the end of a long passage, he entered another vast hall pillared with white quartz. A fountain played a tinkling tune, surrounded by exotic plants with curly red and purple leaves. Creepers scaled the columns and trailed streamers of pink and yellow flowers in cascades of colour. The people who populated the hall strolled or hurried past, while many sat on stone benches and chatted. Blue-green moss-like grass covered the floor, and a clear crystal dome let in shafts of sunlight.
Tallyn exited the building, squinting in the white sun’s brilliance. Frilly-leafed trees, festooned with flowers, jostled at the edge of the clearing in which the Council hall stood. Wild herbivores grazed the lush grass, glancing up with twitching ears. Birds filled the calm air with song, and in the distance another building blended into the environment. Compared to the humans’ dying world, it was idyllic, and he hoped they would enjoy it.
Tallyn sauntered to a row of silver, disk-shaped public access craft, chose one and climbed into the glass dome atop the disk. As he settled behind the controls, he wondered again why the Council had waited two days before seeing him. He had thought news of a potential Golden Child would make them demand an immediate report, but then, they probably had daily updates from the team of doctors that attended the humans.
Rayne and Rawn had been sedated since their arrival, and it was probably just as well, he reflected, that they knew nothing of the barrage of procedures being carried out on them. He pressed the joystick’s stud, and the craft drifted up. They had already undergone many of the tests he had warned them about, and were due to be released in a few days. He guided the craft towards the medical facility where they were housed.
At the underground building, he parked the craft and marched along well-lighted corridors to the humans’ rooms. They had been placed in robotic cocoons that monitored their functions, and Tallyn thought Rayne looked pale and a little gaunt under the harsh lights, one side of her head plastered with regeneration jelly. Tubes entered her nose and probes poked from her skin like weird spines.
A doctor came to his side. “Commander Tallyn. Good of you to visit us again.”
“How are they?”
“In excellent health.”
“You’ve finished the implants, I see.”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, yesterday. Their immune systems are responding well to the vaccines, and our tests are almost finished.”
“When will they be released?”
“In a few more days, if the Council approves. We want to wait for the implants to heal so they won’t have headaches.”
Tallyn hated the doctor and his entire breed. Technicians were devoid of caring or compassion, the sort that would perform torturous and often useless experiments on helpless animals if it was allowed. The man’s hair was almost monotone, indicating his low caste.
“How thoughtful of you,” Tallyn said.
“Well, the Council members thought -”
“Spare me. I know what the Council ordered, and it had nothing to do with thoughtfulness. You’ll inform me when they’re ready to be awakened, then I’ll take over their care. Do you understand?”
“Certainly, Commander.”
“And under no circumstances are they to regain consciousness while you lot are poking them with needles.”
“Of course not.”
Tallyn left, angrier with himself than the doctor. At times like this, he wished he could defy the Council’s orders. It would have given him immense satisfaction to release the humans today. He was responsible for their predicament, and knew they would blame him for whatever was done to them. He consoled himself with the fact that, had he left them on their world, they would have suffered a far worse fate.