The lost astronaut, p.36
The Lost Astronaut, page 36
They crossed an iron bridge that stretched high across a ravine. On the other side stood Murk Castle, carved into the side of the mountain. Its enormous black gates were covered in a layer of rust, showing their age. On both sides of the gates stood tall towers with cannons tracking their every move. Jag stopped halfway and closed his eyes, leaning his head back to allow the large snowflakes to hit his face.
“Atundra isn’t such a bad place,” Jag said.
Mahjon gave him a disapproving look.
“I’m not saying I would want to set up a summer home here, but the mountains are quite lovely.”
“This reminds me of Christmas at your grandparents’ farm,” Ben said. “That was one of the best times of my life!”
Jag nodded. “Mine, too.”
“The snow cream your grandmother made was awesome,” Ben replied. “Your grandparents were the best!”
“Yes, they were.”
Ben looked up at the gates. “Do you think we should knock?”
“They know we’re here,” Jag said, nodding toward the soldiers in the towers pointing the cannons at them. “When this goes down, no matter what happens, get Sara to the shuttle. As soon as Mahjon joins you, Henning has been ordered to leave immediately.”
“I understand,” Ben said. “Jag, I don’t have the words to express my gratitude—”
“Just get her safely out of here,” Jag said. Then he turned to Mahjon. “Thank you. It has been a pleasure serving the kingdom alongside you.”
Mahjon bowed his head. “The pleasure has been mine.”
Jag placed his hand over the bonding mark on Mahjon’s chest. “Mahjon, I release—”
Mahjon immediately removed Jag’s hand. “No! I beg of you, do not take this from me. I must see this through and be allowed to feel what you feel until the very end.” Even though they’d be lightyears apart, Mahjon would feel everything, and Jag intended to spare his friend the pain and suffering he expected to come.
After a moment, Jag nodded. “Alright, if that is your wish.”
A puff of air escaped through the gates as they creaked open. A legion of soldiers marched out, their boots pounding against the bridge. The unnerving sound of their footsteps was hushed only slightly by the thin layer of snow that had collected on the bridge. Once the soldiers halted, the two center columns stepped apart from each another, creating an aisle down the middle.
At the end of the aisle stood Measil, Tahjon, Reeso, and Sara, who was wearing handcuffs. They started walking. Halfway down, Reeso and Sara stopped as Measil and Tahjon continued forward, stopping in front of Jag, Mahjon, and Ben.
“Welcome to Atundra. I trust you are ready for the exchange,” Measil said.
“What guarantee do I have of their safety?” Jag asked.
“The emperor has given his word that your friends will be returned safely,” Measil said.
Jag looked to Mahjon to inquire if he sensed any deceit. Mahjon nodded in agreement.
Jag nodded and then turned back to Measil. “Let’s get this over with then.”
“Alright.” Measil motioned to Reeso, who removed the handcuffs from Sara. She began walking down the aisle.
“You’ve changed, brother. You are no longer the little Mravian I remember,” Tahjon said to his brother.
“You’ve changed, too. You are no longer the Mravian I remember either,” Mahjon replied, his words stinging Tahjon. The giants were impressive and powerful and very much brothers.
Sara ran down the aisle of soldiers into her father’s arms, where she sobbed. Ben held his daughter tightly as he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw Jag nod, and then Ben placed his arm on Sara’s shoulder and escorted her off the bridge and up the path, where Captain Henning was standing on the shuttle’s step to aid Ben.
As Reeso placed the handcuffs on Jag’s wrists, Jag noticed several scratches running down the side of his face.
“She’s feisty, isn’t she?” Jag asked.
Reeso gave no response as he tightened the cuffs. Then he looked at Mahjon and snickered. “You never sensed anything! You were so easy to fool.”
Mahjon snarled at him, causing him to flinch. Had it not been for Mahjon’s respect for Jag, he would have ripped the traitor apart.
As Sara was climbing into the shuttle, she turned back to see Jag in handcuffs.
“No! What are you doing?” She tried to run back, but Ben and Captain Henning pulled her toward the shuttle. “Don’t let him do this, Papa,” she pleaded.
“There’s no other way, Sara. It was his wish,” Ben replied.
“No, please stop!”
Jag turned to see them gently pull her into the shuttle.
“Follow me,” Measil said, and they walked into the castle, with Tahjon escorting Jag. Then the soldiers turned and marched back into the castle as the large gates closed behind them.
Alone on the bridge, Mahjon stared at the gates and dropped his head as he exhaled an agonized sigh. Then he walked the long path back to the shuttle, where Captain Henning took off immediately to return to the Cora Lee.
Inside the dark castle, torches and iron chandeliers illuminated the large banners, the crests of which denoted past emperors. The ceilings were tall and intricately carved. The company passed soldiers standing at attention, dressed in ancient military attire. Along the floors and walls were the physical scars of the battle Admiral Rannick fought when he stormed the castle years earlier.
Jag looked up at Tahjon. “You look thin, old friend.”
Tahjon shook his head. “You should not have come. I’ve looked into Damon’s heart, and there is no mercy for you.”
“I understand. But sometimes in life we give up what we hold dearest for those we love most.”
“Mahjon appears to have served you well.”
“He has been exemplary and would make you proud.”
“I am very proud of him.”
They entered the great hall, with its high ceiling and ancient architecture, as crews set up rows of chairs and platforms for cameras. Emperor Damon was seated on an ancient throne with elaborate gold carvings and purple fabric, doling out orders for the exact placement of each item. Then he spotted Jag. “Welcome to Atundra, Prince Marcello!” He had more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice when he said the word “prince.”
“Is that the throne behind which Emperor Gazini was cowering when he was killed?” Jag asked, recalling King Marcellus’s story.
Damon smirked. “Indeed it is.”
“It appears to fit you quite well.”
Damon chuckled. “That was father’s all-time favorite story to tell. I thought I would die if I had to sit through one more rendition!” Spotting Jag’s handcuffs, he nodded. “Oh, how rude of me. Take off those restraints. I’m sure our guest means me no harm, and even if he does, Tahjon the Magnificent will come to my defense.”
When the cuffs were removed, Jag rubbed his wrists, where the restraints had cut off his circulation. Then Damon had all the workers leave the chamber.
“It seems destiny keeps entwining our fates,” Damon said. “You have had the great fortune to be present at every step of my master plan: from the tragic death of my beloved father to the attempted murder of my dear sister.”
“Yet another failure,” Jag replied.
Damon smirked. “Only a temporary setback, I assure you. I must compliment you, for you have played your role exquisitely, and now we arrive at the grand finale, to which you will once again be center stage in the fulfillment of the great Yalorian prophecy.”
“I’m sorry, I fail to see how I play any part of this.”
“Of course, the puppet never understands the puppet master’s plans. After being denied my rightful place as ruler of Celestia, I thought my destiny was over. However, an option presented itself to me the day your little satellite hit our observation station, leading us right to your pitiful little planet.”
“Well, once again, your plan has failed! Earth was saved and your fleet destroyed.”
“You actually think taking Earth was my objective?” Damon smiled. “Oh, I love your naiveté. The valiant outcast returns to save his planet and becomes the hero. I’ll let you in on a secret: I never wanted your pathetic planet. It was you, my puppet! You’re the key to all of this! For tomorrow, the universe shall witness the fulfillment of the Yalorian prophecy. You are familiar with the prophecy, aren’t you?”
Damon got up and walked over to a golden stand that held a large, ancient book. Then he read a passage from the page to which it was opened: “Oh, House of Nobb, that which was torn asunder shall be made one when you see a prince of Celestia clothed in great strength standing in the chamber of Atundra before the high priest. Then shall the brothers become one.” He stopped reading and looked at Jag. “Tomorrow night, this prophecy shall be fulfilled as I, the real Prince of Celestia, stand in great strength before a Yalorian high priestess, who shall declare the prophecy fulfilled, and I shall take my place as ruler of both nations.
“Sounds fascinating,” Jag replied sarcastically. “How do I fit in?”
“With you, I shall display my great strength.”
“What? A rematch?” Jag ran his fingers across his cheek in reference to the scar he had left on Damon’s face the night they fought years earlier. Jag had since been trained in the art of swordsmanship by Commander Corbis.
“Oh, I’m sure that by now you are quite capable of handling a sword, but I have something greater in store for you. You will testify tomorrow night before a special gathering of Celestian delegates regarding how you conspired with my sister to murder the king and that the attempt on her life was staged as an elaborate plot to frame me and prevent me from ascending to the throne.”
“I will never say any of that,” Jag replied. “And even so, what good would it do? The senate has already ordained your sister as queen.”
“I’m disappointed in you. Surely they taught you that Celestia is a constitutional monarchy whose members can cast a vote of nullification causing the senate to select an entirely new monarch.”
“I’m familiar with the law,” Jag said. “However, it requires 20 percent of the planets to cast the vote to succeed.
“Right you are! See, you have been paying attention.”
“There is no way you have eighty planets who would cast a vote of nullification.”
“Actually, I have eighty-four, to be exact. Thirty-nine have always retained their loyalty to me. But arriving tomorrow night with the Yalorian high priestess are forty-five senators from the Yalori district. And once you testify to my innocence and the high priestess verifies the prophecy, those planets will cast a nullification vote ending my sister’s reign. Leaderless and feeling deceived by the queen, the senate will reach out to their beloved son and plead with me to accept their offer of kingship and unite our two kingdoms.
“Surely you must know that I would die before I would say such a lie!”
“Yes, always the hero. But how about when the lives of your precious little friends on board the shuttle are on the line?” Damon nodded to an attendant, who established communications with the warbird that was escorting the shuttle back to the border.
“Commander, are you still escorting the shuttle?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Target the shuttle and destroy it on my command,” Damon said.
“Wait, no!” Jag looked to Tahjon and Measil. Mahjon had read Measil at the gate and had not sensed any deception.
“Oh, don’t look to them. They didn’t know of my plan. I kept it hidden from them.”
Measil smiled. “Brilliant, absolutely brilliant.”
“You see, you will testify, or I will destroy your friends. Now take him to the dungeon to consider his choices.”
Jag was thrown into a cold dungeon deep in the heart of the castle, where his mind was filled with thoughts of Sara, Ben, Mahjon, and Henning. He knew he could never betray the queen to save their lives or his own. They would be completely defenseless; the shuttle was no match for a massive warbird. The more he tried not thinking about them, the more his mind focused on them. He opened his eyes and looked up. Oh, God, you have always been the golden thread in my life at the most difficult times. Be with me now, and be with my friends. Spare their lives. Warn them of the danger they are in.
As he sat back against the dingy stone wall, a thought entered his mind. What if he could get a message to Mahjon? He knew Mahjon couldn’t read his mind, but he recalled how Damon had forced himself to feel rage that transferred to Tahjon. What if he could use the same method to get a message to Mahjon?
Jag began pacing back and forth, focusing every thought and feeling on their demise. He envisioned the shuttle exploding with his friends inside, flooding his emotions with fear for their lives. He paced for hours until he was utterly exhausted and emotionally drained, at which time, he lay down on the cold, hard stone floor and fell asleep.
Onboard the shuttle, all sat quietly as Captain Henning piloted with Ben seated next to him. Mahjon sat behind Henning with Sara across from him. Her legs were pulled up to her chest, and her eyes were closed. She had cried herself to sleep.
Then, in the midst of the silence, Mahjon jerked forward, clenched his fists, and let out a deep and agonizing groan that startled everyone in the cabin.
“What’s wrong?” Ben asked.
Sara opened her eyes. “Is it Jag?”
“I can sense his feelings,” Mahjon said. “He is overwhelmed with fear.”
Sara sat forward. “Are they hurting him?”
“No.” Mahjon shook his head, pausing to search his feelings. “It’s not fear for himself . . . but for us.”
Ben frowned. “Why would he fear for us?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time the Murks went back on a promise!” Henning said.
Ben turned in his seat to face Mahjon. “If Jag wanted to get a message to you, could he just think certain thoughts?”
“No, it doesn’t work that way. I can’t read his mind. I can only sense his feelings, and the greater the distance between us, the fewer feelings I can sense.”
“So, if he wanted to get a message to you, would being fearful for our lives be something he could do?”
Mahjon nodded. “Yes, fear would definitely work, as it is the second-strongest emotional bond between a guardian and his protectee.”
“Then I’d venture to say he may be trying to warn us that our lives are in danger,” Ben replied.
Henning nodded in agreement. “So that’s their game. They intend to use us as a pawn to force Jag to do what they want or they’ll fire upon us.”
“Can we defend ourselves long enough for the Cora Lee to arrive?” Ben asked.
“Against a warbird?” Henning chuckled at the absurdity of the idea. “Absolutely not!”
“Can we send a message to the Cora Lee?” Ben asked.
“Opening up a secure channel now,” Henning replied. Then he frowned. “That’s odd; the communication system is unable to establish a link to the Cora Lee. The warbird must be jamming our signal.”
“Are we in range for the Cora Lee’s sensors to track us?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, we should be close enough,” Henning replied as he looked at the computer screen.
“But do you think they’re tracking us?” Ben inquired, following his gaze.
“Knowing Commander Corbis, you better believe they’re tracking our every move. Why, what are you thinking?”
“I have an idea that might just work or get us all killed,” Ben replied.
“It doesn’t seem like we have many options. What’s your plan?”
Ben relayed a crazy idea to Captain Henning, who responded by maneuvering the shuttle erratically back and forth and up and down while varying the shuttle’s velocity in an attempt to make the shuttle appear to be malfunctioning. Then he killed the engines and fired a stray phasor in the opposite direction of the warbird.
The commander of the warbird hailed the shuttlecraft. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Henning replied as everyone on the shuttle pretended to be frantically moving about, repairing various systems. “Our guidance and weapons systems are malfunctioning. We’re trying to make repairs.”
“How long will it take?”
“No idea. We don’t have a qualified engineer on board, but it could take as much as a day or two.”
“I don’t have a day to wait for you to fix your pitiful shuttle.”
“Totally understandable, sir, and I apologize for the inconvenience. However, if you would like to speed things up, may I suggest that you tow us to the border so you can be on your way?”
The commander was indignant at the request but, seeing no alternative, sighed and then gestured to one of his crewmen as they engaged a tractor beam and began hauling the shuttle toward the border.
“Okay, you guys can stop,” Captain Henning said to his crew. “Now we wait to see if the Cora Lee interprets our distress correctly.”
After returning to her seat, Sara leaned over toward Mahjon. “You said fear was the second-strongest emotional bond between a guardian and his protectee. What’s the strongest?”
Mahjon looked directly at Sara. “Love. Love is the strongest of all emotional bonds that a guardian can sense his protectee is feeling.” Smiling, he leaned toward her. “In fact, it’s not uncommon for us guardians to be aware of a protectee’s affections long before they are aware themselves.”
Sara leaned back and smiled slightly for the first time and then closed her eyes and thought of Jag.
The Cora Lee was on constant alert as two warbirds faced her from across the border. The watch officer asked Commander Corbis and Admiral Rannick to come to the bridge immediately.
“Sir, we have tracked the shuttle ever since they left Atundra. Everything was proceeding normally until a few minutes ago. The shuttle began weaving erratically, and long-range sensors picked up weapons fire. Now it appears the warbird is towing the shuttle.”
