Test of Magnitude (The Torian Reclamation) (42 page)
Read Test of Magnitude (The Torian Reclamation) Online
Authors: Andy Kasch
“I can’t believe they are letting you go back,” Brandon said, “after all the trouble we went through to rescue you from that place.”
“It was only a small challenge to accomplish,” Arkan9 replied. “This is the real reason I insisted the Chenel delegation return here with us, as they need a ride home as well. So, those of us who choose to leave now have the opportunity to stow along. Some of us, at least. The government will only concede to sending one transport ship. The truth of the matter is they do not fully realize I plan on taking permanent residence on Milura.”
“That makes a little more sense,” Brandon said. “It probably seems to them as if you are only politely escorting the visitors back home, even if your party is abnormally large. Aren’t you concerned about the Azaarian rebels?”
“No. They are destroying themselves. Their fate, I’m sorry to foresee, is to soon be food for carrion birds and beasts of the field. I pray the same future does not lie ahead for Tora. We will give that valley a wide berth and live elsewhere. Milura is a large place.”
“How many go with you?”
“We will fill the ship to capacity. Perhaps three hundred.”
“Is Nunon4 going?”
“Yes.”
“I will miss you both greatly.”
Three Months Later, Earth Colony Amulen
Epilogue
“The division is tragic,” Derek said. “A real bummer.”
“I wouldn’t call it a division,” Brandon argued. “And I see it as healthy.”
“The twin planets have had a unified government for fifteen hundred years,” Derek said. “Splitting it up again is a step backwards, man. Maybe someday soon they will start fighting wars with themselves again, like back on Earth.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t go anywhere near that far,” Brandon said. They were sitting in one of the public cafes in the Earth colony. Brandon was drinking argim and Derek was having coffee.
“Besides,” Brandon continued, “they have always still had localized regulations, and that’s all this really is—just on a larger scale. For example, Olut6 had no trouble issuing a ban on Cardinal-4 that was not in effect anywhere else.”
“That was only on the military base, though.”
“True,” Brandon admitted. “But if you do see this as a division, be careful what side you choose. I think you know this is necessary. You witnessed firsthand what it did to another race.”
Derek shook his head. “The Torians aren’t like the lion-people, man. They have good hearts. You said that yourself. I don’t think they’ll let that happen here.”
“You know, I think that’s the first time I heard you call them Torians.”
Derek shrugged and took a sip of coffee. He looked good all clean-shaven with his new haircut. Brandon almost didn’t recognize him now. They were both glad to be wearing new clothes, made from a fabric produced locally that came from a plant similar to flax. A small group of Amulites had sensed a new industry opportunity in providing clothing for the humans, and were up and running very quickly. Brandon finally felt like he was back in the 21
st
century.
“Anyway,” Brandon said, “Mip7 said he felt the power of that game himself, and the governor of Cardinal-4 became so addicted he was not performing his duties. Arkan9 and I agree the infection here is all too real, and we both foresee dire consequences as a result.”
“You both foresee?”
It was Brandon’s turn to shrug and take a drink.
“I miss Arkan9,” Derek said. “He’s a righteous cat.”
“Yeah, me too. I can’t believe that transport ship never returned from Milura, though, and the military still hasn’t sent any missions to investigate why.”
“Then why don’t you look into your crystal ball and tell us, man?”
Brandon didn’t let the snide remark bother him.
“Rock.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” Brandon said. “But let’s just think about this for a moment. Everyone on that ship except the crew was relocating. None of them had any intention of coming back, nearly three hundred Sheen. Now, you know how influential they can be. It probably didn’t take much effort to convince the crew to remain as well, especially if they told them what was going to happen here.”
“What exactly is going to happen here?”
“I can’t tell you
exactly
, but you know—”
“And why would the crew just abandon their lives and live on a foreign world?”
“The crewmembers were all fairly young,” Brandon said, “and remember, the natives do not have close family values like the Sheen. I’m only speculating now, but it makes sense, so this is what I am choosing to believe.”
Derek smiled.
“What?” Brandon said.
“Family values.”
“Right.” Brandon took a drink. “Well, maybe we can be a good example to the natives. They already seem to respect us more than they do the Sheen.”
“About that, brother,” Derek said. “Anne thinks she is pregnant.”
Brandon stared at Derek until he began to squirm uncomfortably.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Derek. Rachel just told me the same thing.”
They gawked at each other as smiles widened, turned to chuckles, and then became uncontrollable laughter. Vincent the bartender, a man in his early forties who was abducted from Montreal in the nineties, gave them a quizzical look. Brandon and Derek touched cup to glass in a toast and took another drink.
“Listen,” Brandon said. “That’s all the more reason to come live on Banor with us. We’ll be safe there, away from the infection. I won’t raise a family here, and neither should you.”
“You keep referring to it as an infection. It is, after all, just a game. And it isn’t doing what it did to the lion-people here, man.”
“Not yet, you mean. Listen to you, Derek. I can’t believe you are saying this. You saw what it did to them with your own eyes! And you like Banor, remember? Your kind of place, your kind of people—what happened to all that?”
“I’ve already enrolled in the university here,” Derek announced.
“You what?”
“I start attending classes soon. We are going to stay here, Anne and me. We’ll be fine. I’m going to learn stuff.”
“What, exactly?”
“Technology.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Brandon was genuinely shocked. This couldn’t be happening.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Brandon gaped at Derek for several minutes, but this time Derek did not become uncomfortable. If anything, he looked proud of himself.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Derek?”
“Well technically, I’m not even Derek—but I admit I have come to like that name.”
“Derek—or whoever you are—if you’re serious, there are universities on Banor. At least you know the professors will show up for the lectures there, since that blasted polwar game is now banned on the entire planet. Here, who can say? You know I saw two natives playing it at a hoverbus station only yesterday. That thing is loose on Amulen society, and I’m afraid it’s going to embark on a reign of terror.”
“We’re staying , man.”
Brandon threw his hands in the air. “Why are you always saying that to me?”
“Because you’re always leaving! What do you plan on doing with yourself on Banor, anyway?”
“Live among my own kind, for one thing, and avoid all the undesirable consequences of a culture breaking down.”
“I’ll be here. I’ll try to stop the culture from breaking down.”
“I wish you would take me seriously, because the situation is deadly serious.”
“Don’t worry, Brando. You’re just a quick space flight away, right? We’ll get out of here if we need to, and come over and stay with you. Then you can give us a tour of whatever it is you’ll be doing over there.”
Brandon decided to stop arguing. It was clear Derek’s mind was made up.
“Jack wanted to live with the Sheen and learn all their ways,” Brandon said as he gazed out the window. It was beginning to rain outside.
“So you’re going to do that for him, then, since he can’t?”
“Maybe,” Brandon said. “Something like that, most likely. I figured you would be all over that plan, and we could do it together.”
“Sorry. Things change. Most of my Sheen friends are gone, and I have other ideas now.”
“You might get lonely here.”
“No way. Even if Anne wasn’t enough, a few others are staying as well. Some are just too scared to fly, so will never leave. And then there’s those twenty-three sick ones still in the tanks at the mad scientist labs. Somebody needs to be here for them when Yob3 and Mip7 finally figure out how to cure them.”
Brandon opened his mouth to object, but changed his mind. Instead, he sat in silence for a few moments and thought about Rachel. How close she had come to being the twenty-fourth “sick one” still in cryonic preserve. Derek seemed to appreciate Brandon’s averted protest.
“Why technology?” Brandon finally asked.
“I kind of liked the spaceships and fishing lasers, man. Even those rifles were sort of cool. Just for hunting and protection, of course. I’d like to learn how they work.”
The End
Continuance
What you have read is the final, professionally edited version of this story. Unfortunately, some scenes had to be cut because they just didn’t help move things along. One that I particularly like involves the “hairy midgets” outsmarting the “octopus men” and Director Markin1 at RL-71. I went ahead and expanded it, and have now posted it as a short “side story” you can read on my author website:
While you are there, please consider joining the mailing list to be notified by email when my future books are released. Thanks!
About the Author
I am an extremely happy middle-aged man living in Huntington Beach, California, where I was born and raised. I have no biologic children; just one really cool married stepdaughter. I write when I am not fly-fishing from my kayak.
I graduated from Marina High School in the early ‘80’s. From there, I went on to drop out of junior college after three semesters to become a salesman, a profession I have adhered to in various capacities most of my adult life. Some jobs were better than others. I have done some hard time in the mortgage business as well. Currently, I manage to scratch out a living sitting in front of my computer at home all day hatching various schemes. Nice work if you can get it.
I have enjoyed creative writing from an early age. In grade school, I remember turning in ten-pages for those “complete the story” tasks. Then there were the “use each of this week’s spelling words in a sentence” assignments, which I relished, usually seizing the opportunity to zing my classmates in the sentences. That kind of thing began backfiring after a while, as I found myself forced to read them in front of the class and having fewer and fewer friends.
Music was good during the time I was in high school and a young adult. This is proven by the fact that many radio stations today are still playing stuff from that era. After high-school, I really got into the fusion-jazz scene. These days I prefer blues, and can jam along on my harmonica sounding much better than I really am.
I hoped you like my story. I had a lot of fun writing it. To be honest, the characters became self-aware at some point, reducing me to the role of an observer. I was really just watching them and reporting what they did after that. So if you didn’t like it, I’m sorry—but it’s not really my fault. Blame them.
Tulros.
Andy Kasch
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