Chapter Four
Nothing is ever as it seems. For each apparent answer there is always another more significant one. This is true at every level of observation and interpretation. Thus, the final answer to any question is never attainable … perhaps not even by the Sublime Creator.
—Tulyan Wisdom
For weeks, Acey and Dux had stayed in the Tulyan Visitor’s Center. The globular, posh orbiter wasn’t a spacetel as they had initially thought, since the Tulyans apparently never charged any of the dignitaries for staying there. According to a waitress that Dux befriended in the gourmet dining room, the place had more than a thousand suites of equal size and quality.
Dignitaries!
The first day they were there, Dux walked around with his chest puffed out, imagining how important he and his cousin were. In the corridors, they saw well-dressed personages of varying galactic races whom they imagined to be ambassadors, noblemen and their ladies, and even kings and queens by their appearances, replete with royal entourages. The gaping boys’ imaginations ran to considerable extremes. When the two of them later told stories about this experience, any rational listener would undoubtedly discount their assertions, knowing how insular the Tulyans tended to be. There could not possibly have been so many galactic VIPs present at one time. But Acey and Dux, while having the good sense to avoid making any contact with the other visitors, had fun imagining who they might be. The boys also enjoyed picking out the various alien races they could identify, and marveling at those they had never seen until now. It only whetted their appetites for traveling more throughout the galaxy.
Acey kept saying he was anxious to leave for more adventures, and he’d been developing all sorts of plans about other star systems he wanted to see, and how he would get there. Every day he expressed his increasing restlessness to Dux, and to Eshaz whenever he looked in on them every few days. The Tulyan was performing important work for the Council of Elders, though he would not provide them with details. Whenever the teenagers asked him why they had to stay there, Eshaz said he felt responsible for their safety, and that he would be able to spend more time with them soon.
Soon.
Even Dux, who enjoyed the Visitor’s Center far more than Acey, was growing suspicious of that promise. Eshaz’s focus seemed to be elsewhere.
As time passed, Acey went to increasing lengths to avoid the comforts of the orbital center. Seeming to make a game out of it, he not only slept on the carpet instead of the bed, he refused to eat in the gourmet dining room, accepting only leftovers or slightly stale food. In addition, he wouldn’t go anywhere near the very tempting amenities of the center, not the pools, spas, game rooms, or performing arts chambers.
At first Dux thought his cousin was going too far, but then he began to understand. The two of them would have to leave soon, and Acey’s way of handling the overabundance of luxury was easiest for him. In contrast, Dux fully accepted the fact that their stay would not endure, but he went for the full treatment anyway, to “broaden his life experiences.” For him, this made complete sense. So, each day Dux luxuriated in the pools and spas, permitting a beautiful Jimlat masseuse to give him treatments. He gorged himself on fine foods, and gained two kilos a day.
One afternoon as he headed for the main performance hall, Dux saw Eshaz approaching, lumbering along the corridor with his heavy strides. “Where is Acey?” the Tulyan asked. His scaly bronze skin glistened. He wore a tan cloak with a circle design on the lapel, which seemed to be his formal attire when working on important matters with the Council.
“Hey, Eshaz,” the teenager called out, cheerily. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s walking on nails somewhere.” He spoke of Acey’s behavior in a humorous way, then noticed that the big reptilian looked upset about something.
Eshaz wouldn’t tell him anything until they located Acey, who was sitting in the back of the main kitchen, eating with the workers. Acey, in a large chair at the head of a long opawood table, had been spinning grand yarns, embellishing stories of his adventures on board a treasure ship, taking his listeners to distant, exotic lands in their imaginations. The workers, all of whom were Tulyan, nodded their heads politely, but did not look that impressed. Acey, not seeming to notice their reactions, rambled on, looking like a child propped up on pillows in the Tulyan chair. He stopped when his cousin and Eshaz entered the room.
Seeing Eshaz, one of the most honored web caretakers, the kitchen helpers all stood and bowed respectfully. Eshaz bowed in return, then led the boys to a private dining room, where he ordered tea. When the beverages were delivered and the doors closed, he peered at the pair through slitted eyes, and said, “You young men are in my safekeeping for the moment. I trust you are being treated well here?”
“Like royalty,” Dux said. “I’ve been using every facility. They make you feel like a prince here.”
“That is our custom,” Eshaz said. “We are a simple people, but we understand the needs of other races, such as your own.”
“When can we leave?” Acey asked. “I know. Soon, soon.”
“You are anxious to continue your adventures, I see,” Eshaz said. “I can understand that, and I apologize for not being able to spend more time with you. But that will change one day.” He hesitated, as if avoiding the annoying word “soon,” then said to Acey, “It seems odd for a Human not to enjoy the comforts we offer. Are you ascetic for religious reasons? You follow the Way of Jainuddah, perhaps?”
In a sharp tone, Acey responded, “I’m not sure what you mean, but I don’t have any religion. I just do what feels best to me.”
“Ah, yes, Human viscerality,” the Tulyan said, nodding. He paused. Then: “I am saddened to inform you that four merchant prince planets, including the capital world of Timian One, have been destroyed by the Mutatis. As a result, Doge Lorenzo has set up a new base of operations on Canopa, where he is presently engaged in warfare against Noah’s Guardians.” For security reasons, Eshaz did not tell them exactly how he and the Council of Elders had learned all of this using their Timeweb connections.
“Timian One is gone?” Dux said. “I can’t believe it.”
“Along with Plevin Four, Earth, and Mars.”
“Mars!” Acey said, leaning forward and accidentally knocking his tea over. “Dux and I saw what was left of it!” Acey sopped up tea with a napkin while relating how they had been aboard a podship that had passed by the debris field, and the horrors that the passengers saw.
“We thought a huge meteor must have struck the planet,” Dux said.
“No meteor,” Eshaz said. “The Mutatis have a terrible weapon.” He went on to tell the boys what he knew about Noah’s involvement and the pod-killer sensor-guns he caused to be set up on pod stations orbiting all merchant prince planets, weapons that were designed to blast podships the minute they arrived from space since they might contain Mutati weapons. Then he added, “Unfortunately, Noah is now a prisoner of the Doge.”
“He sacrificed himself for the merchant princes, and that’s how they reward him?” Acey said. “What kind of gratitude is that?”
“The ways of your race are most peculiar,” Eshaz said. “Despite Noah’s bravery, Doge Lorenzo and Francella Watanabe are speaking against him, blaming the cutoff of podship travel on him. They don’t provide details or reasons, only the false assertion that it is the fault of Noah and his Guardians, and they will be punished for their misdeeds.”
“They’re lying!” Acey exclaimed.
“Of course they are,” Eshaz said. “It is one of the things Humans do best. The truth is, Noah Watanabe is a most remarkable man, rare among the galactic races.”
“We need to get back and help him,” Dux said.
“But we cannot get to Canopa anymore,” Eshaz said, “or to any other merchant prince planet.”
“That puts a crimp in our travel plans,” Dux said.
Looking out the window of the private dining room, watching the cosmic mists swirling around the Tulyan Starcloud, Eshaz said, “Podships aren’t going to Human or Mutati worlds anymore. After they were attacked at Canopa the creatures started avoiding potential war zones.”
“The podships made that decision?” Dux asked, his eyes open wide. “A boycott?”
Eshaz hesitated, for he knew Parviis controlled the vast majority of podships and must have made the decision themselves. He just nodded, then pointed to the nearby pod station, in synchronous orbit over the star cloud. “For what it’s worth to you, we can still travel throughout the rest of the galaxy.”
“I’ve always suspected that podships are smarter than people say,” Dux said, “that they’re not really big dumb animals.”
“I am not permitted to say much about them outside the Council Chamber. I will tell you this, however, my young friends. The Tulyan people have had a relationship with the Aopoddae going back for more years than you can imagine. In modern times our connection with that race has been much more limited than in the past, but I hope to change that one day.”
Deep in thought, trying to imagine what the Tulyan was not telling him, Dux nodded, and gazed out the window of the Visitor’s Center. The young man watched a podship leave the pod station. As the spacecraft accelerated, it became a flash of light that shifted from pale to brilliant green, like an emerald comet. Then it was gone, vanishing into the black void of the cosmos.
***