Amazon
Category:
Science Fiction
Publisher: PublishAmerica
ISBN-10: 1413794858
Pages: 408
Two of the Four Western Hemisphere councilors on the planet Pacifica are
brutally murdered in an act of terrorism in the underground city of Puba.
This starts a chain of events that brings the two remaining leaders to believe
this may be the last days before their peoples are enslaved by the Eastern
Alliance. To those living on the shores of the Western Hemisphere, Kimballa
is not only insane, but also evil personified. While some of the population
on the eastern land mass view him as a saint, some see him as a sinner, a
handful revered him as a god or a demon incarnate, but the majority fear
him to be all, rolled up into one being. Love him, hate him, respect him or
loathe him; there is no denying his burning hatred for the four societies of
the Western Hemisphere. He has systematically plotted their genocide with
his boyhood friend, General Frankar, and they are only days away from
seeing their vision of worldwide supremacy through to the end. Chairman
Mircan, along with Councilor Zarko, a few raw rookie Air Cadets and the
head of an academic think tank are all that stand in front of the Eastern
despot’s dreams of world domination
The Councilor exited the cramped, narrow confines of the transport tube. He could see his wife of over 20 years, Shakora through the partially drawn drapes. By the position of her long, lean, reflective image on an interior wall, he could immediately tell she was on the telesponder. This tweaked the Councilor's curiosity.
"Whom could she possible be talking to at this time of night?" he thought while walking up to the narrow front five cement entrance steps leading to the door.
The overhead lighting reflected from the Councilor's security card, lively danced on the eggshell white exterior walls of the masonry porch. In the distance, he could hear the ever so faint high-pitched sirens from the fire he passed. The shrill unsettling noise announced a disheartening message to all in earshot. There were fatalities.
Zarko raised his card and inserted it into the slot to the right of the entranceway. The security light located at the center of the pad, switched from red to amber in the blink of an eye. This signaled the Councilor to punch in the five-digit access code. On the third attempt, access was granted. “Why’d they have to do the upgrade? There was nothing the matter with the old one,” he grumbled under his breath. The light was now green, allowing him a five second window in which to open the door or repeat the sequence from the start. He wasted no time in depressing the blue entry button, located to the right of the pad. He backed up half a step as the swung outward and to the right.
His arrival briefly startled Shakora. She was no longer standing by the telesponder, but was sitting on their brass love seat immersed in a search through her directory of names and numbers.
His wife’s long well proportioned Kanan legs stretched out under the table in front of her. She was an exotic beauty. Her lineage was mostly of Kanan descent; however her face, height and skin tone strongly suggested the other three Western races swimming in her gene pool. Although she was over ten years younger than her husband, it never stopped them from enjoying each other’s interests.
"You’re finally home,” she said looking up, tossing her shoulder length mane of chestnut curls back over her partially exposed smooth shoulders and snapping shut her personal listing guide. “I didn't hear you pull up. I just spondered there to see if you had left yet."
Holton, still standing in the black and white marbled floored foyer responded in an exhausted, emotionless voice. "The meeting took longer than I expected dear."
"I was told it broke up almost an hour ago." She motioned to him to come over and sit beside her by patting the dusty blue cushion on her left side.
Holton did not accept Shakora's loving invitation; opting instead for his favorite mis-matched, green leather easy chair and foot stool on the other side of the room. He crossed the floor, his head down, still wearing his black dress boots and answered. "I stopped to talk to Barat for a few minutes after the meeting" He used this excuse in an attempt to justify his lateness without stimulating his wife's over active imagination. He was in no mood for her penchant for asking questions, which he usually could not answer due to their sensitivity.
"What about?" asked Shakora.
"Just your standard government business, making sure everyone is paying before leaving. You know, the usual." He flopped his feet upon the square, light gray wooden table that separated them, before sagging further down into the over stuffed well-worn chair.
"What about the stone?" She further probed with her beautiful blue eyes as wide as they could open.
"What are you talking about?" queried Holton, as his eyelids were beginning to close
"You don’t have to play dumb with me. The news is all over Puba."
"Even if that was what we were discussing tonight, you should know better than to ask me about such things."
"And you should know better than to put your feet on the table, with those mucky boots still on,” retorted his wife. “But you do it anyway."
Holton promptly removed his feet, but not his boots and pushed himself into an upright position. Then after a silent moment, stood up from the chair and slowly walked over to Shakora and sat down on the cushion beside her. He leaned back and gently took her velvety smooth left hand in his equally rough right one and began with a slight sigh, "You know there are just some things I can't talk to you about. This just so happens to be one of them."
"I know," she responded with an understanding stroke of her right hand on top of his wrinkled fingers.
"So who did you hear about this from?"
"You have your secrets, I have mine,” she stated emphatically with a smile across her ruby red lips. Then she added without any prompting from her husband, “Besides, you should know by now, us wives have a far superior intelligence network than you men with all of your electronic gadgets will ever have."
"True enough, and maybe I should talk Bolet into hiring all of you," joked her husband.
"You could, but then the war would be over in a matter of days and I would have a very bored husband underfoot."
"I would love to try out that kind of boredom," he responded with his eyes closing even further.
A few seconds of easy quiet passed between the two of them. The type of silence only a husband and wife can enjoy, when neither one of them has to speak to make themselves heard. But Shakora was never one who remained silent to along, especially when hot information was involved, "Josek's wife Loras thinks..."
"It doesn't matter what Loras thinks!" he abruptly retorted with his eyes now fully closed.
"Sorry dear. I was just trying to make conversation... What else happened this evening? Is there something you can tell me about?"
"Yeah, and I'm sorry I snapped at you."
"That's OK, so what was it?" she asked anxiously, hungry for any bit of news on the evening's events.
"You know the old half built vacant eyesore of a building about five blocks from the temple on this side…."
"What about it?” she interrupted enthusiastically.
"It was on fire," he murmured while beginning to fall asleep
Shakora got up from her position on the loveseat, turned to her immediate right, and stated with only a tone in her voice a wife could use, "Not so fast Holty!"
"That's Councilor Holty to you, my dear," he muttered with half a grin as he continued sinking further back into his seat and crossed his arms.
"You have to take one of your pills first. You know how your talking keeps me awake at nights"
"Damn, I forgot!”
"Forgot what dear?"
"There was a message on the tube message board this evening. The dispensary called to say Overone had my new prescription ready."
"That's ok. They called here too, and I had them delivered. Do you want a glass of water?" she asked while breaking the seal on the new bottle of 32 pills.
"No,” he assured as he stood up from his spot on the condensed sofa, “I'll come and get it myself." However, it was too late. His wife already had the small clear glass of water poured, ready and waiting for him.
"Thank-you," he said, taking the tumbler from her left hand and holding it in his right. With his free left hand, he scooped the red pill from the freshly cracked bottle on the counter and in a solid motion flung it deep into his awaiting mouth. With a slight grimace, he swallowed the large, but sweet tasting tablet, and chased it back with a half mouthful of water. "Happy now I took one of those red things?"
“Why do you always choose the red and not the green?”
“I don’t know if it’s me or what, but the red one’s sweeter and they seem to be a little easier to swallow.”
“You know perfectly well they’re both the same.”
He paused for a moment before saying, “You know, I think I’m going to make an appointment with Care Giver Overone.”
“Why’s that, Holton?”
“I want her to go back to prescribing my old medication, I feel, I don’t know if this is the right way of saying it?”
“Saying what?” interrupted Shakora.
“Sometimes I don’t feel any different. It was almost as if I could feel the other ones working all the time in my system.”
“Don’t you remember? She explained all that to you when she changer your medication. She told you there would be grogginess that is no more excessive. You’d wake up like your old grumpy, grouchy self.”
“I know. It’s just an observation, that’s all. Besides, you’d let me know if they weren’t working, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course Holton, don’t be silly. It’s just your imagination at work.” Then she seductively cooed, while directing him back into his easy chair. “Come on Holty, it's time for your reward.”
Her husband's energiless body readily accepted the invitation, and slumped back into his comfortable old friend. As she had done many times in the past, she stood directly behind the tattered green chair and began to gently knead the tired, tense nerves and muscles of her husband's neck and shoulders.
"That feels great dear. Don't stop." Zarko's head had imbedded itself into the back of the high backed seat. His eyes were becoming heavy once again.
Shakora answered his request with a small loving kiss on his close shaven, densely stubbled right cheek and assured him with the words, "I won't."
Within moments of her uttering those words, he was out like a light and snoring like a hundred morozes.
"Works every time,” Shakora whispered to herself aloud, with a sense of wifely accomplishment. “Now let's see what you weren't going to tell me this evening."
Holton had one major character flaw for someone in his position of authority, he talked freely and extremely clearly while he was asleep. His Medical Care Giver prescribed Monochlothorosite–Diacemiatiose Fractosine. When taken properly, the dosage would take approximately 30 minutes to take full effect. With a year’s experience with this prescription, Shakora was well aware of how quickly the pills worked on her husband.
"Holton," she called, singing his name.
"What is it Shakora?" he clearly answered her, as if he was in a sleep induced trance.
She leaned forward from behind the chair and whispered in his hairy left ear, "What was said at the council meeting about the third stone?"
Without warning, the telesponder's insipid drone could be heard throughout the entire house, interrupting Shakora's much used interrogation technique. She raced across the room in a valiant attempt to access the device's activator switch before it would rouse her husband back into the land of the conscious. Her efforts proved to be unrewarded as Zarko's eyelids began to flutter and by it's third ring he was wide-awake.
Shakora managed to reach the sponder just before its fourth ring. An all too familiar, but visibly shaken image flashed across the lit up communications screen.
"I'm very sorry to have disturbed you at this late hour Shakora,” apologized Mircan. “Is Holton home yet?"
"He's just fallen asleep," she responded in a hushed tone.
A look of relief crossed the Chairman's face. "There's an emergency! Please go and."
Zarko, over hearing the Chairman's voice, joined his wife at the telesponder. "There's no need, I'm here...What is it Bolet?" asked the semi alert Councilor, as he ran the bony fingers of his left hand through his thinning gray hair.
Shakora dutifully, retreated into the background, but remained within earshot range of the conversation.
The Chairman's voice wavered as he began, "Josek. and… Josek… and... Brana!” Mircan's crusty exterior was dissolving as he searched for the inner strength to complete one of the most difficult sentences he ever had to utter during his tenure as Chairman of the Council.
"Josek and Brana what?" interrupted a tired and impatient Zarko.
Mircan summoned every last ounce of composure in his body and blurted out the final two words, "ARE DEAD!"
Those two words carried with them, the same effect as ten cups of koras. Zarko was alert and awake, however his complexion mirrored Mircan's, drained of pallor. "ARE WHAT?"
"Dead! Or should I say, Murdered?"
The words could not come quickly enough out of the Councilor's mouth, his mind asking ten questions for every one spoken. "What happened? When? Why? How long ago?” Zarko seemed only capable of expressing himself in monosyllabic words as he suddenly found himself thrown into an unfamiliar state of incomprehension.
I'll go into all of that, when you get back here,” assured Zarko's long time contemporary. “I've taken the liberty of ordering you a chauffeured tube. It should be arriving as we speak.”
The Chairman was still having trouble in expressing himself. Each word bore it's own weight. If it were anyone else except Mircan on the screen, Zarko could have sworn that person was ready to break into tears. The only time he ever witnessed a display of emotion of this magnitude from Bolet, was the day his wife disappeared.
The Councilor nervously stroked his furrowed brow with his left hand and avowed, "I'll be right there... Zarko out." He turned in his wife's direction and said in an almost apologetic tone, "I'm not sure when I'll be back."
Shakora walked over to her husband and tenderly placed her soft right hand on his left shoulder. Then she uttered, with wifely understanding, "I know." His wife's touch was capable of speaking volumes at times like these, but as of this moment, Zarko was numb. His mind was once again racing and his attention was not in the room.
"Did you say something?"
Shakora leaned forward and gave her husband a small kiss on the left cheek. "It sounds like your ride's here."
There was a low-pitched hum emanating from the house's exterior. Zarko parted the curtains and motioned to the driver he would be out shortly. Without a word, he stoically walked towards the front door. Shakora followed behind her husband who was in a trance like stupor. His quivering, left index finger valiantly attempting to enter the exit code, but to no avail. The shocking news of Josek and Brana's untimely demise was releasing emotions; allowing Shakora to witness his vulnerable side.
"Need some help?"
"NNNNo, he stuttered. I'm all right. Holton inhaled a deep breath, and on this, his second attempt was successful in entering the five-digit number. As the door automatically swung open, he turned back to Shakora. His words were coming more freely now. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Just be careful," cautioned Shakora. She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the right cheek as one might who was seeing their husband off to another day at the office. Then, rather than the usual per functionary kiss she had come to anticipate from him, the unexpected occurred, he embraced her in a tender full hug. Just as they were finishing this loving act, Shakora doubled over in pain.
“You’ve got to get that checked out!”
“I know dear. Just give me a second and I’ll be fine.”
That’s what you always say! But these cramps appear to be getting worse and you’re getting them a lot more often”
It only took the pain about ten seconds to dissipate. She was able to once again stand straight and tall. “There, she announced triumphantly. Now go on and don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine!”
“You sure?”
“I’m positive Holty. Now get going!”
He exited through the open door and was half way to the awaiting tube when Shakora hollered out, "Aren't you forgetting something?" Her husband's briefcase was dangling lazily from the first two fingers of her right hand.
Zarko trotted back to the doorway and thanked his wife. He then took two quick steps back towards the government vehicle and returned to Shakora. This time he gave her a husbandly peck on the cheek and said "Bye dear"
Once again, Zarko started walking to the tube, he could not help noticing the air's usual stale aroma had company this evening. His sense of smell began sending his brain messages of memories that had long since been dormant. However, how could this all be, asked his logic center. Zarko, tried rationalizing it to himself, it just must be his sleep-starved body playing tricks on him. As there was only one substance known to either side that could elicit that odor of rotting sulfur, and it had not been used by the Eastern Alliance in years due to it's volatility. Zarko had now come to a full stop, almost midway between the house and the tube. He inhaled the evening air with a few quon like sniffs, and then one long one followed. The scent had disappeared He shook his head side to side and murmured to himself, "I'm getting to old for this."
Excerpt
It would take a mighty stupid woman to marry me, and I am not about to marry a stupod woman.
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