The Archer's Paradox - The Travis Fletcher Chronicles (19 page)

“Seems to be a lot of activity.” Travis noted; more to make conversation than anything else.

“There have been some developments while we were in hyperspace.” Wingu Kanzu replied without looking up from the controls.

“Developments?” Travis prompted, but he was not to be drawn any further.

“The Council is waiting for us.” was all he said.

With the instructions entered, Wingu Kanzu sat back as the canopy closed over them and the transport lifted a few inches and sped off on its pre-programmed course. At the end of the underground spaceport was a series of tunnels of varying diameters, some not much bigger than the vehicle they were in. Unerringly the vehicle plummeted into one of the small tubes with a speed that made Travis eyes water and his stomach lurch.

“The Council are our leaders, our Government.” Wingu Kanzu began, undeterred by the car’s progress as they sped through featureless tunnels. “It is made up of five representatives from each of the Xi Scorpii stars and it has
kept peace between all the Xi Scorpii races since The Fall.” he explained. “You will give due deference to The Council, as you would to your own leaders.” he warned.

Travis sniggered quietly behind his mental screen. This vastly superior race obviously did not register the contempt that the majority of the people of Earth held for their leaders and politicians, and certainly about somebody else’s leaders and politicians, but he held his tongue and just nodded.

The transport angled upwards and moments later they were spat out into the city and slowed to a more sedate pace, maybe forty or fifty miles an hour Travis estimated, or did it just seem faster underground and through the tunnels? It was difficult to tell. They were travelling down a wide boulevard with only a few other vehicles and there were a few people walking on the pavements on either side. Not the bustling metropolis he was expecting. Rather than the drab ship suits he was used to, the inhabitants were dressed flamboyantly, in a riot of shimmering colours with fabrics that moved like liquid as they walked, exaggerating their graceful and haughty gait. Gone were the tight ponytails. Instead both males and females wore gravity defying hairstyles in colours that changed and shimmered as they moved. Buildings grew out of the ground like great glass stalagmites in a multitude of colours. Some were tightly clustered and seemed to merge and intertwine as if embracing each other, while others stood apart in loose groups with spindly looking bridges strung crazily between them. As they got closer to the centre of the dome the buildings became wider and taller until finally the transport stopped and the canopy opened.

The building they stopped in front of was different to the surrounding architecture and looked uncomfortably familiar to Travis. This building was pyramidal and made from smooth and highly polished stone, like marble but without the veins. It was constructed in steps, each as high as a house and of a subtly different shade of green or blue. Not the vivid and garish shades of the surrounding towers, but dark, deep, and rich colours that reflected back a more sombre and subdued image of its surrounding. Its base must have been at least a mile across and in the centre of the front face was a wide stairway that led to a squat structure at the apex, at least three thousand feet from the ground. Not the tallest building in the vicinity, but it overwhelmed the more esoteric architecture that surrounded it in much the same way as a house brick would overwhelm a Merino glass vase. The structure stood about half a mile from where the car had stopped and was surrounded by gardens that sprouted plants and trees of every description; some Travis thought he recognised as they walked through, but many he did not. Travis gaped at the incredible structure, wracking his brains; it looked so familiar but not…not what? Not Egyptian, that much was certain; this one had a flat top rather than a pointed one, and had some sort of flat roofed building on top of it. Also, the way it was layered in steps like a gigantic wedding cake looked wrong, yet so familiar.

As they neared the base, Travis could make out intricate geometric patterns picked out in silver and gold in the stones, which shimmered with lives of their own. Again, it struck him that he had seen these shapes before. This time the answer presented itself: he had seen similar carvings on the ruins in the dream Xnuk Ek’ had given him. He was starting to put two and two together and the answer was not filling him with confidence.

At base of the structure Travis could see a number of entrances, but his guide steered him towards the stairway which, he was relieved to find, was made of the same material as the floors on the spaceship and the path through the gardens. As they stepped on, it grabbed their feet and propelled them upwards. From the top Travis had a commanding view of the surrounding city, but Wingu Kanzu did not give him chance for sightseeing as he was shepherded towards an underwhelming door to the structure on the top of the pyramid. It was, as Travis had surmised, squat, utilitarian, and made of the same stone as the rest of the structure. It was also covered in the same intricate geometric designs as the rest of the structure. Although the apex of the great pyramid was a fraction of the size of the base, the building was probably still nearly a hundred yards square and the height of a two story house. After the ride through the city of glass and up the colossal pyramid this was like being shoved through the service entrance of The Ritz.

Behind the door was a small anteroom, the ceiling of which glowed pale yellow, like the sun, and lit the windowless room adequately, although Travis thought he would not like to do much reading. It was sparsely furnished with some very uncomfortable looking chairs. Not much sitting done here either, Travis thought to himself. He got the distinct feeling of being in a doctor’s waiting room or outside his headmaster’s office. There were small doors to the right and left and a pair of larger doors straight ahead, all made from the same polished stone and blended so well with the walls as to be almost invisible. It was through the door on the left that a severe looking male
with the distinctive look of a Xi Scorpii C native appeared. He was much older than any of the aliens he had met so far, except the doctor, maybe late middle age. He wore his dark golden hair long and straight, shunning the gaudy styles Travis had seen on his way here. His silver eyes sparkled with life, but there was an age and depth to them that was accentuated by the lines that splayed out from the corners.

He stopped in front of them and honoured them with a shallow, perfunctory bow. Wingu Kanzu returned a deep bow and indicated that Travis should follow, which he did but barely hid his irritation. The male raised an eyebrow at him when he rose.
Shit! Check shields.
He could have sworn he saw a twitch of a smile.

“Wingu Kanzu,” Wingu Kanzu announced himself, “and The Original, Travis Fletcher of Sol 3, to be brought before The Council as requested.”

The male nodded a response, turned on his heel and disappeared through the double doors. Travis strained to see beyond but failed.

“Now what?” he asked.

“We wait.” Wingu Kanzu replied evenly.

“I seem to be doing that a lot.” Travis responded with more than a hint of sarcasm. Wingu Kanzu stoically ignored him, so Travis decided to explore, not that there was much to see; the room had no windows, no furniture, save the smattering of chairs, and no decorations except the runes on the walls. Travis examined one. The carving was perfect with no burrs, tool marks or irregularities, but it was the colouring that fascinated him; the shimmer effect was not, as he thought, a trick of the light, but each carving had gold or silver liquid with the consistence of mercury flowing round the channel, seemingly defying gravity as there was nothing to stop it running out of the channels and down the walls. He put out a tentative finger in curiosity, and then thought better of it. The last thing he wanted just now was to be the idiot that disrupted the decorations or got an electrical shock, or worse.

The doors opened and the older male beckoned them forward. Travis’ heart suddenly started racing and he felt sweat beading up on his brow. He looked over at his guide and saw a look of consternation on his face.

“Do as I.” he hissed and followed the usher through the door.

The next room was not large. Considering the reverence that everyone gave this Council and their position on top of a half mile high pyramid, he was expecting an impressive chamber hung with banners and with dozens of flunkies bustling around. Once again he was disappointed. What he saw was a squarish room of highly polished stone, lit from a glowing ceiling, like the anteroom. It was large enough to accommodate a semicircle of five curved stone tables. Four of the tables had five Council members sat at each of them, all looking older than Travis’ grandparents, on high backed and highly uncomfortable looking chairs. They were dressed in plain, loose fitting robes with high collars which were decorated with delicate designs in gold and silver. The last table, to the right, had five unoccupied chairs. Casting his mind back to the conversation he had had with Niji No Tori, before that unhinged bitch had burst in and shot him, he deduced that each of the tables held representatives from each of the Xi Scorpii stars: the brown skin and rounded bodies of A, opal eyes, small noses, round faces and delicate frames of B, the glittering eyes, high foreheads and height of C and the ebony skin, wide flat noses and tall, muscular forms of D. Only the last table, presumably for Xi Scorpii E, was empty. It struck Travis that he had never met anyone who professed to be from that star and neither could he remember seeing anyone that did not fit the description of the other four.

Wingu Kanzu bowed as low as was possible without falling over. Travis followed suit and received slight inclinations of the head in acknowledgement. These people obviously thought themselves way above everyone else, Travis thought to himself. He felt a light touch brush his mental shields, like someone tapping an eggshell with a fingernail; enough to annoy but not enough to break in. He cast about the assembled faces but he could not identify the culprit.

“When will he be ready?” The male in the centre chair of the centre table asked, without preamble. “He does not appear to be permanently damaged by the incident, in fact, I detect activity above what you originally reported.” he did not look at Wingu Kanzu but eyed Travis intently whilst speaking. Travis took an instant dislike to the man, simply because he considered it rude not to look at the person you were addressing and there was an arrogance about him that put Travis on edge. It was not the same air that Xnuk Ek’ or even Wingu Kanzu had about them. This was more of an assumed superiority over everyone.

Fucking politicians.
Travis thought, making sure he was keeping his thoughts to himself.

Wingu Kanzu appeared not to take offense and bowed low before replying. “He has had one treatment, as I reported and requires two more, according to the
Ts’ats’aak
that attended him. The second can begin in two days. It also appears that the attack has had unforeseen side effects.”

“The
Ts’ats’aak………
” The Council Leader began.

“Sundaravāda Ci
ṭṭ
e.” Wingu Kanzu finished.

“Indeed.” The Council member acknowledged. “She is reliable?”

“She is…difficult.” Wingu Kanzu admitted. “But she will do nothing to harm her patient, and that includes accelerating the treatment.”

“Understandable. So when may we begin?”

“Sixty days.”

The one who spoke cast his gaze round the table and all the other members nodded their acceptance. “Acceptable. And the transgressor?”

“Is being dealt with.”

Again, nods from all the members. “Quarters and an escort have been assigned. You can get the details from the
Aantah
outside.” he made a dismissive gesture and turned to talk in low tones to the people to his right and left. Other Council members were also beginning hushed conversations. Wingu Kanzu made to leave, but Travis remained rooted to the spot with a look of thunder on his face.

“Is that it?” he growled through clenched teeth. Wingu Kanzu spun back to face Travis, aghast. “Is that it?” Travis repeated, fixing who he assumed to be the leader with an icy stare. Wingu Kanzu opened his mouth to speak, but the Council Leader waved him down and returned Travis’ stare without saying anything. Wingu Kanzu took a couple of steps sideways, putting some physical distance between them. Travis’ temper flared. “What am I? Fucking chopped liver? Just who the fuck do you think you are?” he exploded. “I’m standing here, right in front of you and you haven’t even got the common decency to say hello.” Wingu Kanzu’s features turned from midnight black to ashen grey, as most of the colour had drained from his face and he looked as if he was about to expire, but Travis was on a roll. “You ASKED me to come here! You even sent a fucking huge spaceship to find me and bring me here. I am supposed to be the saviour of your race and you don’t even ask how I am!” Travis was screaming now and gesticulating wildly at the assembled council. “I’ve been…” His next tirade was cut short as he gasped for air. Clutching his throat he fell to his knees, his face turning red, then purple, as his eyes bulged from their sockets. Just before unconsciousness enveloped him, the invisible force that held him relaxed and he collapsed sideways to the cold stone floor gasping for air. He felt hands pulling him to his feet and backwards to the door but he shook them off and wavered unsteadily but unbowed. “Nice trick.” he said hoarsely, pausing to cough. “But I am going to take a chance and tell you to shove
it
.” he punctuated his statement with an obscene gesture before collapsing to the floor in another fit of asphyxia. Again he was released just before unconsciousness and dragged to his feet again by unseen hands.