Test of Magnitude (The Torian Reclamation) (3 page)

“Only in foreign relations, of course,” Mip7 said, not certain if he had phrased it as a statement or a question. Either way, he felt a great sense of relief.

The governor gave him a solemn look. “Of course. Now, let’s talk about why I summoned you.”

Mip7 was right back to being confused again. “It’s not about the ambassador?”

“No. Mip7, have you ever had any special relations with any of the Sheen?”

He thought for a moment before answering the governor’s odd question.

“The usual. At the university, levels 13 and 15, the required courses. Basic education when I was young, for two weeks in level-3, and then the week-long camping trip in level-6.”

“Nothing more?”

“I talked to one briefly in a park one day, when I worked at the hydrogen station on Banor before coming to Cardinal-4.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Mostly the landscaping and clouds, I think. I remember he did start to talk a little about public transportation projects, but then I had to get back to work.”

“Did you give him your name?”

“I don’t recall. I doubt it. There was no reason to.”

“All right,” the governor said. “Well, I don’t know why, but a Sheen is arriving here tomorrow and has requested a meeting with you, and he requested you by name.”

“Why would a Sheen come here? What would he want with me? I don’t even know any Sheen.”

“I don’t know, but this is some kind of special Sheen, because he managed to get successive meetings with higher and higher government officials, and the last one was with Chancellor Renal5, who arranged this meeting personally.”

Extat. Just when Mip7 thought he was off the hook and things were going well with the governor. The Amulen Chancellor himself was sending a Sheen out to Cardinal-4 to meet with him? What could this be about? High government officials don’t get involved in paltry matters.

Mip7 fidgeted in his seat. “You think this Sheen is a seer or something, and knows about what happened with the ambassador today?”

“I don’t know,” the governor replied. “I hope not. Don’t worry—I’m on your side in that matter. Just don’t reveal it to anyone else. The Sheen will arrive in about ten hours. Get some sleep and be back in my office at 31:00 sharp.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mip7 left and went back to his compartment. He slept well, but had strange dreams. Images of a mysterious Sheen kept appearing in his head.

 

* * *

 

Mip7 walked into the governor’s office the next day to find he was the last to arrive. The Sheen was wearing a traditional gray cloak with the hood over his head. He and the governor were both standing with their backs to Mip7 and looking out the window, watching a small landing craft approach the moored Azaarian transport ship. The ambassador was leaving.

Mip7 stood behind them and watched as well, not sure if his presence was known. The design of the Azaarian transport ship was not terribly unique, as all known interstellar transport vehicles were at least somewhat similar in appearance out of technological necessity. It was, however, quite large compared to Torian transport ships. The distortion field generator, a torus-shaped outer ring commonly referred to as ‘the dag,’ was proportionally larger to the spherical ship cabin than on current Torian models as well, which probably resulted in faster travel times.

One end of the cabin sphere opened and received the landing craft. Mip7 remained standing, silently, in the front portion of the governor’s office as the three of them watched the hangar doors close again. They waited as the Azaarian ship repositioned itself. A short time passed and then the dag began to glow. In another instant, the ship simply vanished from sight, as if it were never there.

Mip7 decided to make his presence known.

“I never tire of watching a transport ship distort away,” he said. The governor and the Sheen turned around.

“Mip7,” the governor said, “this is Arkan9 of the C3 Sheen colony on Banor.”

Mip7 bowed and Arkan9 returned the greeting. Mip7 could not yet make out any of his facial features, as it took time for one’s eyes to adjust to the radiant light emitted from a Sheen. He did see Arkan9’s long silvery fingers folded together in a hand clasp outside his cloak, but that was all the detail he could distinguish at the moment.

Arkan9 spoke. “Technically, the ship didn’t move at all. It just pushed us away from it. And even now, it is pushing great expanses of spatial fabric behind it.”

Mip7 shook his head and said, “Forgive me, but I have never been able to understand how a small ship can displace the universe, moving it around to its every whim.”

“Neither have I,” the governor said. “Shall we all sit down?”

They all sat.

“It is not possible for us to fully grasp such things,” Arkan9 said, “as only the Erob truly understand the properties of the physical dimension we exist in. But it is quite enjoyable to marvel over them.”

“Science was not my strong subject in education,” Mip7 said.

“No,” Arkan9 said, “you were always better in arts and social skills, weren’t you?”

Mip7 looked into the glowing hood of Arkan9, which was beginning to fade some to his eyes now.

“Do I know you?”

“We have not previously met, no. I have met Mip6 of C4 Banor, however.”

Mip7 remembered now how intuitive the Sheen could be.  “I see. I have never met my direct ancestors.”

“Not many native Torians have,” Arkan9 said. “Yet, there is something you find familiar about me, isn’t there?”

It was true, but Mip7 was now uncomfortable and chose not to answer.

“Shall we start?” the governor said.

Arkan9 and Mip7 both nodded. The governor picked up his lightpad and began reading.

“Mip7, you were summoned to this meeting by the Chancellor of Amulen. You are Mip7, born in the Torian year 5295, approximately 31.2 years ago. You were raised in parental colony Tarrock on Continent-4 of Banor. At the age of 16, you were transferred to Odo University on Continent-3 of Amulen, where you spent six years in higher education. Upon completion of Education-2 you took a job at Odo University as an admissions clerk, where you worked for two years before transferring to Hydrogen Station-19 on Continent-4 of Banor. You were there five years before applying for a food supply position on Cardinal-4, where you were accepted. You were a food supply technician one year before being accepted to a foreign relations position here. That was approximately 1.2 years ago. Is this all correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

The governor turned to the Sheen. “Arkan9, you may begin.”

“There is going to be interstellar war,” Arkan9 said.

Mip7 and the governor both cocked their heads in response to his abrupt, incredulous statement.

“Yes, you jerk your heads as a fowl does,” Arkan9 continued, “and take me for a babbling fool, as did every government official I spoke to. But each of them eventually succumbed to my warning, and referred me to a higher office, until now I have reached my final destination.”

“Well, it doesn’t make any sense,” the governor said. “There has never been interstellar war. It simply isn’t practical. All advanced civilizations in the known galactic regions are peaceful and self-productive. Wars are the affairs of underdeveloped worlds. There can be no victory for an invader, and there is no rational motivation for an aggressor who possesses interstellar transport technology.”

“If you really believed that,” Arkan9 said, “you would act as though you believed it. Both of you.” Arkan9 turned and looked at Mip7. The brightness of his face had faded and Mip7 could now see him more clearly. Sheen had bigger eyes than Torian natives, and more distinct facial features such as full lips and nostrils that flared. But they retained many inherited Torian features as well, and would pass for Amulites at a distance if it were not for their radiance.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” the governor asked.

Arkan9 turned back to the governor. “One’s actions betray their true beliefs. The times are beginning to change, and already in this part of the galaxy, they are changing. Wisdom is being pushed aside and alternatives are being explored, but the only alternative to wisdom is folly, and evil times await those who insist on exploring folly. I come here with a warning, to speak to two Torians who are well-rooted in wisdom—wisdom that may be benevolent to all of Tora at a time when benevolence is needed.”

The governor shook his head. “I do not understand why Chancellor Renal5 sent you to me. He is the higher seat of government. If you were to pass to higher offices, you would speak to the High Chancellor at your ‘final destination,’ not to the space station governor and one of his junior delegates. If you wish for me to take you seriously, you need to explain yourself better, reveal the source of your information, and tell my subordinate why you have called him here.”

Mip7 was beginning to wonder the same thing.

“Dark days are coming for Tora,” Arkan9 said. “There will be a battle. But the battle will only partly be fought with weapons of war. The real test will be in the hearts of Torians. Already, the infection is here.”

“Are you claiming to be a prophet?” Mip7 asked.

“I make no claims about myself. I am here to warn and advise.”

“There have been no confirmed prophets among your people for more than three hundred years,” the governor said. “Have you submitted yourself to the tests? Are you willing to undergo the prophet tests?”

Arkan9 remained motionless and said, “Because of the passage of time, the inhabitants of Erobian influence become complacent. That which was important, and that which built civilizations, becomes only legend. What we do not consider is that the passing of time is a gracious consequence. Peaceful time is our blessing and our reward. We should all have millenniums of peace, but the passage of time fools us and makes us forget what made the peaceful time possible, so we cannot have it for too long, because we stray from the path of light.”

“I’m sorry,” the governor said. He placed his hands on his desk and pushed himself out of his chair, as if he were about to call end to the meeting.

But before he could say anything else, Arkan9 threw off his hood and opened his cloak. A brilliant, white light emitted from him, blinding Mip7 from everything in the room. He and the governor both instinctively put their hands up in front of their faces. Arkan9 spoke again, but in a new voice now—one that rocked the room and knocked the governor back into his seat.

“You both have sensed in your heart the beginnings of trouble!” he boomed. “You possess good, wise hearts! For honesty prevails in your blood, but you lied to the ambassador who came here, not a lie formed from malice, but from wisdom. Instead of being punished for a law violation,” he faced Mip7 now, “you were commended, because the breach was from wisdom, and then it was recognized by a wise ruler!”

He turned back to the governor. “You make alliances with those who receive wisdom, and stand against those who dwell in foolish pride. You know not why you do this, but you do it because your instincts show you the lighted path, even when it seems the lighted path is a contradiction of recorded law. You leave the letter of the law to follow the spirit of the law, and those three continental governors and the chancellor of my planet are aligned with you, and so a division in Tora has begun. Rest assured, governor, that your alliance is with wisdom, and those who oppose you, as the chancellor who sent me to you, are aligned with folly.”

Mip7 couldn’t move. The words of the Sheen were as thunder, paralyzing, and the blinding light that surrounded him was thick and restrictive.

Arkan9 closed his cloak, put back on his hood, and the light from him dimmed back to his normal shade. Mip7’s eyes were still flash-blind, but he could make out the governor moving around in his seat now. They all sat in silence for a short period. Finally, the governor spoke.

“I think I now see why Chancellor Renal5 conceded to your request. If you pulled that trick on him, I can understand. It’s quite an impressive show.”

A slight, polite smile formed on Arkan9’s face.

The governor continued. “I am not convinced of your prophecy, however. The demonstration was interesting, but unless you have taken the prophet tests set forth by your own order, I tend to suspect the source of your information as being a security breach, possibly attributable to a new technology our signal blockers cannot yet identify.”

“It is wise now,” Arkan9 replied, “in these new times, to be skeptical of the claims of others. You do your responsibilities a good service. Follow your instincts and you will make the right decisions.”

Mip7’s eyes were almost back to normal now.

“Arkan9,” he said, “will the war be terribly destructive?”

The governor shot Mip7 a look of suspicion at that last question.

“Much depends on the two of you,” Arkan9 said. “If you behave wisely, and are not seduced by the folly which disguises itself, then no—the battles you ask about will not be terribly destructive for us. But the battles I speak of, which are not all fought in space or with physical weapons, will test all of Tora and could well lead to our annihilation.”

“Can you tell us anything specific?” the governor asked.

Arkan9 looked over at him and smiled broadly this time, in obvious appreciation of his small gesture of belief.

“In the science research labs on C2 Amulen, there is a great sleeping zoo.”

“You mean the collection of humanoid specimens?” the governor asked.

“Yes. In Research Lab 71, there is a large stock of intelligent humanoids from an underdeveloped world in the outer regions, a planet that has been renamed
Earth
by the scientists. Much material has been gathered from their culture as well.”

“Can that help us?” Mip7 asked.

“The Earthlings are frail,” Arkan9 said. “They have delicate skin and weak bones. But they possess fast reflexes, are highly adaptable, and are excellent strategists. Moreover, they are born with a tendency to seek balance. Our coming troubles will have much to do with finding balance. Hundreds of Earthlings are in cryonic preservation tanks at Research Lab 71. They may prove to be very important for the future of Tora.”

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