tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79860311887176674562024-03-12T18:13:55.618-07:00The Keeper's Universe Publishing GroupAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17695202483333186714noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986031188717667456.post-65346534284280927122013-10-21T09:44:00.000-07:002013-10-21T09:44:08.003-07:00Fontana D'or and Emily Giagua - Chapter Four<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Fontana
D’or, director of the Socialist Alliance stared out the massive window in her
office looking at the dry barren mountains to the south of the city. Few people
appreciated the beauty of a desert landscape. She loved it. The jagged peaks
had not been worn by water and she appreciated the subtle shades of brown and
red. The life that did grow in the desert was tough and resilient. A bit like
her, a farm girl from Rio Querino, now head of the Socialist Alliance. She had
scraped her way to the top. There was always lip service to equality between
men and women, but when it came right down to it some fields would always be
dominated by men. She had come through the ranks of military intelligence and
while they were happy to use her assets in field work promotions and commands
were hard to come by. Javis had appreciated her work and promoted her
accordingly. Since his death she had taken the reigns of command and had the
support of the military, even if some of her Generals begrudged it. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The com
panel on the desk lit up. “Yes?” Fontana asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A tinny
voice came though the speaker. “Agent Lydia ____ is here to see you as
requested.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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“Send her
straight in.” Fontana brushed at invisible dust on her impeccable uniform and
sat down behind her desk. Her short cropped black hair and olive skin
contrasted the gray of the uniform and she cut a striking figure.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Agent Lydia
_____walked into the room, she had shoulder length blonde hair and sparkly blue
eyes. She was wearing tight denim pants and a plain white shirt. She looked to
be only about seventeen but was actually a decade older. She had been recruited
directly by Fontana for intelligence work. </div>
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<br /></div>
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“Reporting
as requested Ma’am.” Lydia stood at attention and kept her face impassive. She
had met Fontana before several times, they both came from the same small town
in the pepper farming region. Lydia’s aptitude tests had drawn attention of
high ups and when Fontana saw where she was from she had personally come to
recruit her. It was all heady stuff to be wanted and known by the highest
ranking officials in the government and Lydia was happy to serve.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Congratulations
on finishing boot camp and your agent training. I’m promoting you to Special
Agent, and you will report directly to me. You will not take orders from anyone
else regardless of their rank.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Yes Ma’am.”
Lydia was blown away. She knew she was good, but not that much better than any
of the other agents that she had just gone through training with. </div>
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<br /></div>
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“I have a
very unique assignment for you. You will be deep undercover as a high school
student. I’ll be placing you on Pangea.” A look of confusion past over Lydia’s
face and Fontana smiled at her. “Few of my predecessors as heads of this
alliance have really understood that the war we wage against capitalism will
not and cannot be won on the battlefield. Zarahemnah Zaragoza waged a war so
intensely that he even managed to capture the Republic’s capital Galantos, but
what did it get him? Rebellion. Not only rebellion, but it cost him his life
when they assassinated him. No the way to spread socialist equality across the
galaxy is not by force, but by ideas.” Fontana slid a tablet across the table,
Lydia picked it up and began to flip through the open files. “Six young girls
on the planet Pangea. All come from wealthy families. All attend the same
private high school. All have natural leadership abilities, and all have a
stubborn or rebellious streak. You start school there next week. Befriend them
and teach them about socialism. Your task is to convert them to our cause. We
will undermine the Republic from within and eventually as the rising generation
takes power they will simply unite with us under one great galactic wide
socialist banner.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Lydia
smiled. “Equality for all, Director.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Equality
for all.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
****</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily Giagua
was bored. She stared out at the ocean from the front room of her parent’s posh
house. Her dad, Middoni, was one of the richest men in the galaxy and after
Pangea had become part of the Republic he had bought the large island Jedan and
moved his family to it. Emily had an entire tropical island, but she was bored.
The storm blowing through limited any outdoor activities and communications had
been spotty. A message had come through from her friend Lydia though and Emily
was hoping the storm wasn’t ruining the flight that was bringing her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There was a
bit of a break in the water coming down from the skies and Emily smiled seeing
the hovercopter coming in for a landing on the private field. There was some
perks to being rich, ordering your dad’s pilot to run over to the mainland to
pick up your friend was certainly one of them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lydia came
running towards the house as the rain picked back up again. Emily thought that
she was pretty, tall and blonde and always getting attention. Not that Emily
didn’t get a great deal of attention too; she just didn’t have the same model
look. Emily’s hair was brown and curly, and her light greenish blue eyes took in
a great deal. She dressed stylishly but not outrageously like so many of her
other rich friends. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lydia was
different though. Emily could only describe her as political. She was finding
herself agreeing more and more with Lydia’s ideas of the world. Emily went to
the door as she watched her friend dash through the rain. She placed her hand
on the door and the scanner flashed while the door slid open. Lydia ran in and
smiled at Emily.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Hey Em,
little wet here today.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You think?
You remember where the bathroom is right, go get dried up.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I don’t
want to stay long, but I wanted you to come with me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily looked
quizzically at her friend. “Where to?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I have had
just about enough of the propaganda we’ve been hearing lately about the
Republic. I’m going to run away and join the Socialist Alliance.” Lydia smiled
at Emily’s shocked look.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Are you
serious?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Absolutely!
The SA could use two smart girls like us. What do you think? Run away with me?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily
continued to stare at her friend who was still dripping water from her hair.
She had had her rebellious moments, but nothing like this. Her parents were
going to freak out when they found her gone. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Like Lydia
could read her thoughts she smiled knowingly at her. “We’ll tell your parents
you’re going to stay at my house for a week or so, we’ll be long gone before
your Dad wigs out.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The idea was
growing inside Emily, she would be eighteen soon. There wouldn’t be anything
her parents could do about her wanting to work somewhere else. The
impulsiveness of it all was appealing to Emily as well. Life was just too
structured sometimes. “Okay, we’ll do it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Great, get
your things. I told the pilot to wait for us.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily
grinned mischievously and dashed upstairs to pack a bag.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
****</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily
practiced her bored I’m too good for this look that so many of the girls at
school had perfected. She figured it was a good way to blend in while waiting
at the space station. Just let everyone believe that you’re a spoiled rich kid
and that your parents are around somewhere and no one will bother you. So far
it was working well. Lydia was off looking for a ship that would be going to
one of the Socialist worlds. It wasn’t easy anymore, once every ship leaving
this station was heading for a Socialist world, now that Pangea had joined the
Republic all the ships were heading to Republic destinations. Something would
surely be going in the right direction. Lydia was sure that she could arrange
transport. Emily’s job was to watch arriving ships and make sure that no one
was looking for them yet. Her parents had bought the story that she was going
to spend some time with Lydia. But there was no telling with her dad just how
soon he would check up on her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily
spotted Lydia making her way through the crowd. Their eyes met and Lydia
flashed a smile and waved Emily to join her. “I found us a ship heading to
Verde. It is making a stop at Atlantis II before that, but I managed to
convince the Captain to take us all the way to Verde. The ship is called the
Farseer.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sounds
great. How soon are we leaving?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“In just a
couple of hours. Downside is that we have to berth with the female crew members
of the ship.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily
shrugged. She had never traveled anywhere but in a private ship, “Should be an
adventure.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lydia
grinned. “Grab your stuff, let’s go get onboard.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
****</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The trip on
the Farseer was uneventful, Captain Bemer made the girls feel welcome and they
had run of most of the ship. The girls spent most of their time in the
observation deck watching the swirl of hyperspace pass by. They were confined
to the observation deck when the ship landed on Atlantis II.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bemer didn’t want to explain passengers to
customs officials. The girls watched the transfer of cargo out the viewport and
were amazed at how soon the ship was loaded and ready for take off again. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
As the last
crates were being loaded Emily turned to Lydia. “How are we going to explain
ourselves to the officials on Verde?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Don’t
worry, I have a friend there who is going to meet us.” Lydia shrugged and continued
to watch the crew outside.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You never
told me that you had a friend there already.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I guess I
should of. His name is Sam, and he’s going to help us get to Rio Querino, he
said he has jobs already lined up for us in the capital there.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily was
surprised by all this, “Why didn’t you tell me all this?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I wanted it
to be a surprise. He said he can even get us introduced to Fontana.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily was
even more shocked, it was setting in just how little she had thought this
through. The memory of Fontana D’or was not a pleasant one to the people on
Pangea. She was remembered as Javis’s right hand General, and was known for
being ruthless. Emily believed in the idea of equality between classes, but was
Fontana really the right woman to work with?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lydia seemed
to know her thoughts, “Hey, remember that the winners are the ones that write
history. Everything I’ve heard about Fontana says that she is good leader, I
don’t think all the stories about her are true. I’m excited to meet her. Maybe
I can even give her some of my ideas on how to make the Republic more
socialist.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily
nodded, that was her goal too. To help the Socialists spread equality to the
Republic. She would wait till she met Fontana and make her own decision. If she
was willing to listen to Emily and Lydia’s ideas then she would be someone
worth working for.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
****</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The Farseer
was soon on its way again and the girls were enjoying dinner in the officers
mess. Captain Bemer sat down next to them. “We’ll be at Verde by morning. Are
you two sure that this is where you want to be?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lydia smiled
at him. “Of course, I know people there, we’ll be fine.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bemer
focused his attention on Emily. “Are you sure? Cause when your dad finds out
where you are he’s likely to start a war.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily drew
in a deep breath and looked at him stunned. “How do you know who my dad is?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bemer leaned
back in his chair. “It took me a while to place your face. But when I heard on
Atlantis II that Middoni Giagua had a half million credit reward for
information on the disappearance of his daughter it all clicked.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Are you
going to tell him?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Of course.
I’m in the business of making money. I’ll fulfill my contract though and
deliver you safely to Verde though, unless you would like a return ticket home.
It sounded like your parents were very worried.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Fine, he
won’t find me. And make sure you tell him that I ran away of my own accord.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I’ll do
that. Just make sure you take care of yourself. If you get hurt out there your
dad is likely to blame me, and while he may have started out in the same
business I’m in, he’s got a whole lot more power now and I don’t need his
weight coming down on me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Don’t
worry. I can take care of myself.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“And if you
change your mind and want a ride home, call me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily nodded
and she and Lydia went back to their quarters to get everything ready for the
next morning.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
****</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Verde lived
up to its name. It was even greener than Pangea. The Farseer touched down on a
landing pad cleared out of a jungle. Even the ground was green covered in thick
lichen. Lydia’s friend Sam had gotten her message and was waiting for them as
they exited the ship. He was exceptionally tall, and very thin. His skin was
black and his closed cropped hair reminded Emily of some of the ball players on
her dad’s team back home. She suspected he would be good at zero g ball with
his long reach.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He smiled
wildly showing off perfect white teeth and pulled Lydia in for a hug. “Good to
see you again Lyd.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“You too
Sam. You been waiting long?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Nope,
you’re right on time. Let’s get into town though. Your ship was spotted by the
space traffic controllers and they’ve got people on the way. I thought you said
this guy never gets caught?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Bemer must
be getting sloppy, or he wanted to get caught.” Lydia looked at Emily, “Unless he
wanted us to get caught.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sam grabbed
the girls bag’s and headed for the tree line, “Either way it is just easier not
to explain. Let’s go.” He led them down a thin path through the thick foliage.
Insects chittered away and brightly colored birds dodged in and out of the
branches. They soon came to a hovercar tucked under the trees. The car was old
and had a large bubble dome on top. It opened at Sam’s approach and the girls
climbed in. “Sorry my ride is old, but it’s small enough to duck down into trees
when I need to, and you can’t beat the price of an old tourist car. Enjoy the
view. It’s nothing but jungle from here to the capital, and then I’ll be
putting you straight onto a ship for Rio.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lydia
frowned, “We don’t get to hang with you any longer than that?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Sorry love,
I got you and your friend jobs on Rio, and they want you right away. Hopefully
business takes me there in a couple of weeks though. In the meantime though
some friends of mine pulled some strings and you got you and Emily an interview
with Fontana D’or. Apparently she sounded excited to meet Emily Giagua and is
thrilled to hear that the children of capitalist leaders are interested in
socialism.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily
smiled, the excitement of the adventure was coming back and she found herself
looking forward to meeting the most powerful woman in the galaxy. The car rose
up over the trees and shot off towards the setting sun. Emily watched the
greenery below and found herself drifting off to sleep. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
****</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The trip to
Rio Querino was dull and quick and before Emily knew it she was standing side
by side with Lydia looking up at the massive sandstone building that comprised
the capital building for the entire Socialist Alliance. Lydia had explained to
her that most of the government operations were run out of the old capital
complex on Balsavis, but that Fontana liked governing from her home planet, and
so wherever she set up camp was the capital of the Alliance. The landscaping
around the capital was minimal, mostly rock and cactus with a few trees that
required little water. Rio Querino only had a very small ocean and was located
at the edge of the habitable zone around its sun. It was very hot. But it had
many large rivers that welled up from deep underground that created rich
fertile zones in the deep canyons that they carved. Rio Querino was especially
known for the peppers that it grew, both sweet and spicy. The finest chefs
around the galaxy preferred to only use Rio peppers in their dishes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Two burly heavily
armed guards watched the girls approach the main doors. The glass doors slid
open automatically at their presence and they stepped in to the cooled interior
from the blazing heat outside. The lobby was polished sandstone and a fountain
bubbled in the center of the room. On the other side of it a line had been
formed leading through the security checkpoint to the rest of the building. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A woman in
uniform approached the two young women. “May I help you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lydia turned
to her, “Yes, I’m Lydia ____ and this is Emily Giagua. We have an appointment
to meet Fontana D’or.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The woman
checked her palm computer. “Yes you do, please proceed through security and
take the lift to the tenth floor. Someone will direct you from there.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Thanks.” Lydia
led Emily around the fountain and in a few minutes they had passed through the
weapon scanners and were in the lift rising quickly to the top level. The door
opened and they stepped out into another lobby. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Several
armed guards eyed them and another woman looked up from a reception desk. “Ah,
you must be Lydia and Emily. Right this way please.” She beckoned them to
follow her through a large double wide door into the adjoining room. “Please
wait here and Director D’or will see you soon.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Emily
plopped down on a thickly cushioned couch and Lydia wandered over to a window.
Emily watched Lydia go. “Aren’t you excited? I would think this would be a
dream come true for you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh it is,
I’m just so nervous now that I’m here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The door
opened and Fontana D’or stood there in full uniform looking out. Her dark eyes
took in the two young women and she smiled broadly at them. “Welcome to Rio
Querino and the Socialist Alliance. I’ve heard so much about the two of you and
cannot wait to get to know you. Lydia, why don’t you come in first.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lydia looked
at Emily who gave her a smile of encouragement. The door closed behind them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Once the
door was closed Lydia came to attention. “It is my pleasure to report that my
mission has been successful director.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Fontana
smiled ruthlessly at her protégé. “Well down Lydia, well down. Any
difficulties?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No ma’am.
Emily believes completely that I am her age and her friend. I discovered
quickly that she and many other republic youth are primed for a socialist
takeover. They feel the injustice of their system keenly. Even the children of
the one percent feel that wealth is unfairly distributed. Emily has had to work
for everything herself despite her dad being one of the wealthiest men in the
Republic. He doesn’t give her money, except for an excellent education and a
few other perks of their wealth. But she has always had to work for the fun
things she does.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Fontana sat
down at her desk and crossed her arms. “Does she know how her father made his
money?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lydia shook
her head. “I don’t know, we’ve never discussed it. All I ever heard was that he
got rich in the war.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Fontana
nodded her head, “A basic truth. He got rich in the war stealing from the
Socialists and selling it to the Republic. He and his team stole dozens of
warships, and all kinds of new technology.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Republic paid for it all and Middoni Giagua and his brother got
filthy rich, off the work of our hands.”</div>
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Lydia became
incensed at the passion in Fontana’s voice as she relayed the information.
“What can I do director?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“I need you
to stay undercover as Emily’s best friend. Once she is completely on our side
I’ll redeploy you to the field. Now go back out there and send Emily in. If all
goes well she’ll soon be the poster child for the future of the Socialist
Alliance and the galaxy.” Fontana smiled again and it made Lydia think of a
calculating beast on the hunt.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17695202483333186714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986031188717667456.post-64613515026464309482013-09-24T14:41:00.002-07:002013-09-24T14:41:15.203-07:00Spies of Pangea Chapter 3: Mathoni Learns the Truth<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]-->I present to you the third chapter of the in progress novel Spies of Pangea. This is a rough draft, typos will hopefully be forgiven. Enjoy and please tell me what you think!<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Mathoni Learns the Truth</b></div>
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“Mathoni,
we’re not your parents.”</div>
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Mathoni
stared at the woman he had called mom as long as he could remember. His eyes
went back and forth between her and ‘dad.’ Mathoni leaned back into the light
blue fabric of the couch and reached for a pillow. Thoughts were not forming
for the eighteen year old young man with blue eyes and dark hair. He hadn’t
ever noticed that both of his parent’s eyes were brown before. He shook that
thought off. “Wait a second; I’ve seen my birth certificate. Both of your names
on are on it.”</div>
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Mathoni’s father, Amos, looked at him sadly. “Forgery.”</div>
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Mathoni sank
even further into the couch trying to process what he was being told. </div>
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His mom,
Sarahi, took pity on him and began explaining. “Sixteen years ago your real
parents were killed, executed by Javis for crimes that your uncle had
committed.”</div>
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“Not really
crimes at all.” Amos interjected. </div>
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Sarahi
nodded and continued. “Your parents were Dianna and Michael Griffin. Your uncle
Marcus Griffin harbored a political fugitive, and when High Lord Javis found
out he executed your entire family. Before they came for your parents your mom
was able to get you to us. You were just barely two years old. “</div>
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Mathoni
stared blankly at his mom for a moment. “Griffin? As in Senator Griffin?”</div>
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Dad nodded.
“He’s your cousin. Now that your eighteen we thought that you should know the
truth. That and since Robert Griffin helped overthrow Javis and he is now the
senator we thought he would be able to help you get a leg up in the world. We
sent him a message yesterday about you. We’re hoping he can get you into one of
those colleges you’ve been dreaming about.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Don’t you
think he’ll think it’s a fake? That we’re just after some of his money?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We have the
proof.” His mom looked at him carefully. “I hope that once you have money too
that you won’t change.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mathoni
frowned at his mom. “You raised me better than that Mom.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tears filled
Sarahi’s eyes. “I hope that you will always call me mom. No matter where life
takes you in the galaxy know that you will always have a home here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mathoni
hugged his parents. He did have big plans for the future and he was going to
make a name for himself. These were always going to be his parents. But he
couldn’t pass up the chance to get not just a leg up in the world, but a leap.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
****</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Senator
Robert Griffin loosed his cravat and leaned back in his chair. It had been a
long day of committee meetings. Robert took in the dark wood walls and plush
carpet of his office. He liked that the room could feel so formal, and with the
push of button it could all transform into a command center of the political
realm of the Republic. “Byte, is there anything else on my schedule today?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Byte, the
computer AI that had once inhabited Robert’s starfighter, had proven to be an
excellent aide and secretary. Byte was as adept at maneuvering the politics of
the senate as he was at doing automated repairs and generating missile locks on
a starfighter. Robert frequently had an ear piece in that connected him
directly to Byte. The information that Byte had gotten out of the news waves
and net had more than once been immeasurable to Robert on the senate floor as
he debated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Sir, the only thing left on
your schedule is a conference call with Mathoni Griffin.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Robert had
long given up on getting his AI to stop calling him sir. So many other people
were doing it these days and in his days in the military that he had gotten
used to it. “So what did you turn up on this kid Byte? Is his claim real?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes sir. I
double checked a number of sources, including a hack into the DNA database on
Pangea. He is your cousin.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Robert
stared at the polished wood surface of his desk and ran his hand through his
sandy blonde hair. Relatives. Family. I have family. There were plenty of
friends that were practically family, but Robert had assumed that all blood
relatives were gone. Javis’s purge had been pretty wide spread. Anyone who even
knew they were related to Marcus Griffin had been killed. And anyone who had
even considered themselves a close friend of the family had been wiped out. But
now his cousin Mathoni had survived. Miraculously spared in much the same way
Robert had been. What am I going to do with a relative? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Better
connect us Byte, let’s find out what this kid has to say.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes sir.” A
panel of wood on the wall behind Robert slid away and a series of numbers
scrolled across it as Byte made the hyperspace connection to Pangea. Robert
glanced at the digital clock on the wall that showed Pangea time compared to
Galantos time. He did the couple hour conversion from the Pangea capital at
Zora to Zephyr City where Mathoni lived. Robert was ready to go to bed, but
Mathoni should just be getting up. Hopefully he wasn’t a lazy sleep till noon
kind of teenage kid. Robert turned around in his chair to face the camera that
would transmit his face to Mathoni and waited for the connection to be
completed. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mathoni’s
handsome face appeared on the screen. Robert stared at him instantly seeing his
aunt’s features in Mathoni and the deep blue eyes that seemed to be very common
among the Griffin family. “Mathoni I presume?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes,
Senator Griffin. Thank you for responding to my message.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Of course.
Last time I saw you you were only two years old of course. But since you are my
cousin I thought we should talk.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I’m still
thrilled to talk to you. You were kind of a hero to me, even before I knew that
you were my cousin. Robert Griffin and Liberation squad are pretty much legends
around here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Robert
smiled. Ever since the liberation of Pangea from the clutches of Javis he had
been quite the celebrity back home. They had even erected a statue with he, and
his fellow squad mates Rod Beruby and Lance Jenson on it. “I don’t have a lot
of time to chat today. What can I do for you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Well
Robert, I can call you Robert right?” Robert smiled and nodded his head. “Don’t
think that I’m contacting you because I need anything. I really didn’t know
until the other day that you and I are related. But I was hoping to come to
Galantos and attend school, I was even thinking of joining the military, or
even the intelligence agency. I can do all those things on my own of course.
But I was kind of hoping maybe I could stay with you.” Mathoni added the last
part hurriedly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Robert
smiled to himself and then a half brewed idea that he had been kicking around
for awhile began to solidify. “Intelligence you say? Hold on a minute.” Robert
mashed a button on his desk and Mathoni’s face disappeared replaced with an
on-hold sign. “Byte, see if you can get Lt. O’Bray on for me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yes sir.”
Another line of text scrolled across the screen and then the screen divided
showing Lt. O’Bray’s round face on the screen against a blank background.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Senator,
how can I help you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I’ve been
thinking for a long time that we don’t have good intel coming in from Fontana’s
government. At least nothing very high up. I may have found an excellent
candidate that we can get into the higher levels of her government. But I want
to do it off of the books with as few people knowing as possible.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Shouldn’t
be a problem. Just have to run it past Colonel Hawkins.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“That’s just
it. When I saw as few people as possible, I meant just you and me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
O’Bray
paused and considered. “I’ve bucked authority plenty before. And having this
kind of a spy isn’t anything new. But we at least have to bring Colonel Hawkins
into the loop.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Fine, but
just Hawkins.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Whettam
shrugged, “We really should give him some training. I’ll set him under an alias
so no one will really know who he is but the three of us.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Do it. I’ll
get you the info. And remember, no trail that this kid is working for us.” Robert
killed the connection and pulled Mathoni back up. “Sorry about that. But how
would you like a job?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
****</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mathoni was
shocked. He was going to be a spy. As of right now he couldn’t tell anyone the
truth about what he was doing. That was going to be the hard part. Even his
parents were going to have to buy the cover story he and Robert had come up
with. No one could know the truth. Robert was even going to give him the money
to get started. There could be zero trail of any kind to point to the fact that
Mathoni was secretly working for Senator Griffin. A freelance agent Robert had
called him. Everyone had plausible deniability if things went wrong. He was
also going to have to keep the secret about his relation to Robert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That of course would be a dead giveaway.
Mathoni was going to keep the name he had always known. Mathoni Griffin would
have to wait; Mathoni Gubler was going to be here to stay for awhile. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mathoni went
up to his room and took a look around. The environmentally friendly house
didn’t have a lot of wall space that wasn’t windows, so Mathoni didn’t have
much in the way of decorations. But he would miss the view. Three of his
windows looked out into the pine forest surrounding Zephyr City. In the
distance he could see the jagged peaks of the mountains to the east. Hopefully
he would live through what he was about to do and be able to come home someday.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Packing the
essentials into a duffel bag Mathoni took one last look around and went back
down to the main living area where his parents had been waiting. Mathoni looked
at his mom who looked back at him expectantly. “Hey Mom, no matter what you
hear, I love you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What are
you talking about Mathoni? What did Senator Griffin tell you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I can’t
tell you mom. But,” Mathoni trailed off and fought back emotions welling up
inside of him. He couldn’t keep it in, he had to tell them. “Mom, Senator
Griffin has given me a job, it’s a very dangerous job, but it’s important and I
want to do it. You must keep it a secret that I work for him though, and no
matter what you hear, just know that I’m working under Senator Griffin. I love
you, but I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sarahi
fought back tears as well. “You’re leaving now?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Yeah mom.”
Mathoni went to her and wrapped his arms around his mom. You won’t hear
anything from me for I don’t know how long, but I love you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I love you
too.” She was going to say more but the tears stopped her. Amos put his arms
around her and pulled her in close. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Be careful
Mathoni. I think Senator Griffin is a good man, but don’t do anything that
isn’t right.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“I’ll be
careful dad. I love you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Love you
too son.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And just
like that Mathoni walked out to the door; hoping that someday he would see his
parents again. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
spaceport at Zephyr City was not very big. Nothing compared to the one at the
capital city Zora. Mathoni had been to both. He had once won a science fair
project in school that got him a free trip to the massive space station the
orbited Pangea. The trip was the first time he had been to space and he loved
it. Seeing the planet from above was amazing. Mathoni was glad that he had that
opportunity as a kid. He was going to be drawing a lot from that experience. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mathoni
purchased a ticket on the next shuttle to the space station and made his way to
the boarding area. He looked out the glass window and admired the sleek long
triangular shuttle that would lift him off to the stars and the biggest
adventure of his life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17695202483333186714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986031188717667456.post-19503119679183558772013-08-29T07:07:00.001-07:002013-08-29T07:07:07.207-07:00The Assassination of Robert Griffin, or at Least the Attempt<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Here is the next chapter of Spies of Pangea, hope that you enjoy it, and please leave us comments about what you think. Good bad or ugly, want to hear it all.</div>
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<b> </b></div>
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<b>The
Assassination of Robert Griffin, or at Least the Attempt</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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Jerrick
Mitchell monitored the bouncing lights and flipped between channels listening
to the various languages coming from the translation booths that he was sending
out to the main floor of the Republic Senate meeting. Most senators spoke
Common just fine, but for the handful who didn’t and the number who wanted to
hear the proceedings in their planet’s native language the Senate Translation
Division did their job well, supervised by Chief Engineer Jerrick Mitchell. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Mitchell was
a bit on the short side, and looked younger than he was with dark green eyes
and wavy brown hair. His cheery disposition made him well liked by the
Interpreters and the Senators who worked with him. He excelled at his job and
never gave anyone cause to think otherwise; which was exactly what he wanted as
a well placed Socialist Alliance spy. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The senate
leader began calling the vote and the bouncing lights stilled as the
interpreters stopped talking. There was need to translate yea’s and nays. The
education bill passed, Jerrick knew that it would, it had been purposely kept
as a simple bill and no one really opposed it. There wasn’t any behind the
scene dealings to get the need majority vote and Jerrick had nothing to report
back to the Alliance. If anyone back home even cared they could pull up the
results of this bill on the Republic nets and nothing Jerrick could add would
be very helpful. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Other days
things were different. Of course what happened on the main floor was public
knowledge, but many of the meeting rooms and conference rooms that the senators
used for private discussions were not really as private as they thought.
Microphones were in every room to be used if translation was needed, and
whether it was needed or not Jerrick monitored every discussion he could for
valuable intel. Particularly useful was when they discussed intelligence
reports from their own spies within the Socialist Alliance. Reporting back to
the Alliance what intel had been gathered was helpful in finding the Republic
spies. Most days Jerrick had nothing to send back, but when he did it was
always something good. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The Senate
leader adjourned the session for the day and the senators stood and gathered
their belongings. Jerrick watched the camera feed as it panned across the hall.
He took note of Senator Robert Griffin as he turned and headed toward the exit.
Jerrick had been recently asked to do more than his usual intelligence
gathering, Senator Griffin was feared by Director Fontana D’or and she had
ordered Jerrick to take out Robert. </div>
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<br /></div>
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****</div>
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<br /></div>
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The
explosion ripped through the building. Fire alarms blared and overhead
sprinklers kicked on soaking everything and everyone. Two senators lay dead.
Four others seriously injured. Senator Robert Griffin picked himself up off of
the floor. The explosion had come from the treadmill that he had been going to
use, if Senator Farland hadn’t stepped onto it first. “I’ve got to stop using
the same workout machines every day.” Robert muttered to himself. This was the
third assassination attempt this month. Intelligence had been good about
warning him the other times. But Fontana D’or had placed a bounty on his head
so high that even honest people were willing to kill. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Emergency
personnel were beginning to arrive and armed soldiers in dark uniforms were
securing the room. Lt. Whettam O’Bray appeared through the smoke, his gray
uniform rumpled. He stopped when he saw Robert. He took a second to catch his
breath, and then half smiled. “Glad to see you’re alive Senator.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Found out
too late this time?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Whettam
dropped his head. “Sorry Senator. Tracking threats on your life alone is
keeping my team busy. How bad is it?”</div>
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“There isn’t
much left of Senator Farland. I don’t know who else is hurt, but there is
plenty. I’ll probably have to stop using the capital’s gym.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Lt. O’Bray
nodded. This was supposed to be a secure area. Obviously not secure enough. If
Senator Griffin wanted to stay alive he was definitely going to have to be
extra cautious for awhile. “I’ll escort you to the medical wing sir.” </div>
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<br /></div>
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Robert shook
his head. But then noticed that the ringing in his ears was getting worse and
that he did have a pretty good cut on his arm. So much to do as a senator,
Robert just didn’t have time for attempts on his life, hopefully he could give
his presentation at the intelligence committee meeting well enough without the
practice he had been hoping to squeeze in. “Lead the way, Lt.” </div>
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<br /></div>
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****</div>
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<br /></div>
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Jerrick
grumbled to himself as he watched the news that night in his apartment; so much
for the exploding treadmill. And how did Griffin keep finding out about the
attempts on his life? Mitchell was going to have to keep his plans even
quieter. Someone back in the Alliance must be tipping off the Republic intelligence
agents somehow. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Jerrick
turned back to his dinner. It had gotten cold while he was watching the report
on the explosion in the Senators gym. Frustrated he threw the rest in the
garbage chute and paced his small apartment. Fontana D’or was not going to be
happy with him on another failed attempt. She was a hard woman to please and
had gotten even more picky and paranoid now that she was the head of the
Socialist Alliance. There was no telling how many more attempts he would have
before she sent someone else to do the job and take him out in the process.
What could he do, his skills were useful, but they were pretty specific, and
assassination wasn’t one of them. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17695202483333186714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986031188717667456.post-2675463066554732812013-08-23T14:34:00.001-07:002013-08-23T14:34:05.948-07:00The Spies of Pangea: Chapter 1For the next while we'll be uploading rough draft chapters of the novel in production, The Spies of Pangea. I would love to hear your feedback of what you think, as well as any editing issues you may spot. Again, these are first drafts, okay, the first chapter is actually a third draft, but I can't promise you future chapters will be that far along. Again, please enjoy the first chapter of The Spies of Pangea.<br />
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Chapter 1 - Eliar Meine<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 15;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 11;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar
Meine was the most wanted man in the Galactic Republic Alliance, and they
didn’t even know what he looked like. Eliar ran a hand through his short cut
dark hair and his green eyes studied the control panel of his attack shuttle.
The blur of hyperspace filled the view screen in front of him. He was comforted
by the swirls of energy that passed. Not long to go before his pilgrimage would
be complete. He would pay final respects to his slain comrades and family on his
home planet of Minus Tenu which had been scorched with no survivors. Eliar
would make sure that they received the vengeance they deserved. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
countdown timer beeped and Eliar pulled the lever bringing the ship back into
its proper dimension, right on target. A blackened planet with boiling red
clouds hung directly in front of the ship, nothing like the vast forests which
had once grown. The proximity alarms sounded and Eliar reacted by reflex born
of years of experience raising shields and powering up weapons. A glance at the
screen revealed six Socialist Battle Cruisers in an attack formation on the
port side. The communication panel came to life. “This is restricted space,
identify yourself or be destroyed.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar
wondered if his rogue status had spread through the ranks of the Socialist
fleet yet or if his id code was still good. It was worth a try, no sense in
being taken out by six capital ships against his one shuttle; although he would
make a good accounting of himself. “This is Stryker-18. Identification code
Gamma, Bravo, Echo oh seven five five. Security clearance code: how lovely was
the morning.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">There
was a long pause at the other end of the connection and then the young voice of
the communications officer came back. “Your clearance checks out Stryker-18.
Please dock your shuttle on board the flagship <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Burning Moon</i>. Admiral Nielsen would like to speak with you.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“Copy
that.” Eliar responded while he powered down his weapons, kept his shields up
and turned his ship towards the directed Battle Cruiser. What did the Admiral
know? Was this a trap or just the respect due to his status? He waited for his
system to be taken over by the dock controls of the cruiser and headed back
into the main section. Eliar checked his armor and opened the storage locker
where he kept his weapons. Rifle and clips on his right thigh, pistol strapped
to his chest, knives across his body in select housings and within the soft
pack on his left leg he placed his med kit. He tested his gauntlets for the
blades hidden within them and they extended without sound before returning to
their housings. He went through the routine each time he went on a mission. No
sense in going unprepared. The Admiral was probably either going to praise him
or kill him, best to be ready for either scenario. The last thing to check was
his helmet. Scratched and having seen better days, it still felt better to keep
it close by for the many benefits a helmet could give. He adorned the helmet
and let the seal pressurize before running a quick check on its systems.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
shuttle settled smoothly into the docking bay clamps and Eliar watched the
digital displays reporting the atmospheric changes outside the shuttle. When
they reported that the condition was livable he popped the seal on his ship and
stepped out. The docking bay was frigid having been exposed to the vacuum of
space and the ceiling heaters were blasting out hot air to warm the deck. Being
enclosed in armor that could handle most environments had no effect on a
Stryker but he also realized most Socialist envoys were those dressed in
uniforms ill-suited for cold temperatures. The docking crew looked on and
whispered to themselves at seeing a Stryker in person having only heard rumors
before. He marched with confidence to the airlock that separated the docking
bay from the ship and slipped through into the pressurized zone.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">As the
inner airlock door opened Eliar enjoyed the look of surprise that crossed the
three officers and six marines’ faces when he stepped inside. It was the V slit
visor that put people on edge. It gave away no emotion, and one could never
tell where the user was looking. Eliar simply waited for them to make the next
move, his muscles tensed in case he needed to defend himself. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
Marine lieutenant forced a smile, “Welcome aboard sir, please follow me. The
Admiral is looking forward to meeting you.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“Lead
the way Lieutenant,” Eliar stated blandly. He admired the crisp turn of the
Marines and he fell in step with them as they made their way down the corridor,
boots clicking on the corrugated steel floor panels. The ship was built for
durability and functionality, very little had gone into aesthetics. Steel
girders lined the walls and conduits full of the essential cabling followed the
corridors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Intense white lights were
hard mounted on the ceiling just often enough to create slight shadows followed
by blinding brightness as one made their way through the ship. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">They
stopped in front of a lift and Eliar’s sense of direction told him that they
were near the front of the ship. The Lieutenant swiped a badge against a card
reader and the doors slid open.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“Step in
please. This lift goes directly to the Admiral’s briefing room. He is waiting
for you.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Interesting,
Eliar thought as he stepped into the lift. The guards were not coming with him
for his meeting with the Admiral. The doors closed behind him and the lift
quickly accelerated, he felt the pull in his stomach and enjoyed the sensation
as it settled again. The speed of the lift disguised just how many floors above
the docking bay the Admiral’s briefing room was but Eliar was sure it was near
the top. The lift came to a jarring stop and Eliar had to bend his knees to
keep his balance. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
doors slid open and Eliar stepped into one of the few rooms on the ship where
decor mattered. The room’s walls were cherry wood panels and fine art hung
around the room. There was even a stand with a glowing purple plant growing in
one corner. An intricately carved wood desk filled the back of the room with a
long table connecting it with the rest of the room. The grain detailing in the
wood was impressive even to Eliar. Luxuriously padded chairs were neatly
organized before terminal screens embedded in the table that glowed dimly
showing they were on. The one thing in the room that was missing was the
Admiral. That arrogance brought anger to Eliar’s face and was glad he had kept
his helmet on; he quickly composed himself, no sense in letting the Admiral get
the upper hand in whatever was coming. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
temptation to use one of the terminals to gather intelligence was severe, but
Eliar refrained. There was no sense in getting caught here, he was sure the
Admiral was watching from somewhere waiting to see what the fabled Stryker-18
was doing. The Admiral technically outranked him, but the whole Stryker program
reported directly to General Kayne. And General Kayne reported directly to
Director D’or. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar
moved away from the lift door and continued to take in all the details that he
could from his position. He didn’t need to tilt his head because his helmet
gave him a complete view around him and could analyze whatever of interest came
up. The Admiral clearly had a love of art. Eliar was sure that the various
famous paintings on the wall were the originals. Most commanding officers
simply had a screen that displayed art and then would become an active monitor
of need. These pieces were canvas and the frames were nearly works of art
themselves. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">There
was a hiss of pressure and out of the corner of his visual feed Eliar saw that
one of the wood panels had recessed and was now sliding open. Admiral Craig
Nielson stepped through in full uniform from whatever hidden room he had behind
his ready room. Eliar turned and gave him a sharp salute.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“At ease
Stryker 18.” The Admiral stated with authority while returning the salute.
Eliar returned to his relaxed demeanor but watched the Admiral make his way around
the desk like a predator. “Why don’t you take a seat.” The Admiral gestured to
one of the chairs aside of the desk and then sat down himself at the head.
Eliar took the offered chair warily. The support groaned under the weight of
the armored Stryker but didn’t break. He still wasn’t sure if he was in danger
yet, but he did not want to raise any flags with the Admiral. “So Stryker, what
brings you home to Minus Tenu?”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“I came
to pay final respects before setting out on my next mission.” Eliar watched the
expressions on Admiral Neilson’s face carefully. “Director D’or has approved my
request to bring justice for the destruction of my home, family and comrades.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
Admiral’s lips tightened almost imperceptibly and he blinked before responding.
“I am very sorry for your loss. I read reports that your comrades were
practically brothers to you. I can’t allow you onto the planet though. The
toxicity of the atmosphere would eat away at your ship and kill you instantly
if you were exposed to it, even with that impressive armor of yours.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar’s
suspicion’s had been confirmed. For reasons he did not yet understand the
Socialist Alliance had taken it on themselves to destroy the planet and frame
the Galactic Republic. He had made a mistake in killing the Republic High
Commander Boronaught for the crime. He learned a long time ago that thinking of
the past would get him nowhere and Boronaught was certainly guilty of plenty of
other crimes because most people of such high ranks were. The question now was
how high up the line did the conspiracy go, and why would they authorize it.
Fontana D’or did not press his initial mission to enter Republic space to go
after Boronaught and Eliar had taken that at face value. Did she know the truth
and was just certain that he would never link her to it, that he would be
killed, or did it stop short of her. Eliar had great respect for General Kayne,
but certainly as the head of the military he knew what really happened here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar
focused his attention back on the Admiral. “Tell me sir, what happened down
there?”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
Admiral nodded sternly and composed himself. “As far as we can tell the
Republic found out about the Stryker program and decided that it was too much
of a threat to them. A fleet of six ships exited hyperspace near the planet and
began an immediate bombardment. The planet’s defenses were crippled before
there was even time to react to the attack. The ships were gone before my fleet
was able to respond to the distress calls.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar
kept still as he listened. It was always best to use as much truth as possible
in your story. He wondered if he would get the same story out of the junior
officers if he had them in an interrogation room and no rules on what he could
do to them. The intel that Eliar had found was that the fleet around Minus Tenu
was the same fleet that had scorched the planet. The man sitting before him was
a murderer of millions even if there had been some good reason to want the
Stryker program taken out. It was time to do what he had to do and in one swift
motion Eliar pulled his pistol from its holster and fired twice. Two neat holes
appeared in Neilson’s chest and stained red immediately. A look of surprise
crossed the Admiral’s face as he gulped in a fit of air and touched the sticky
fluid spreading across his uniform. Eliar waited as Neilson’s eyes glassed over
the he stood up and moved over to the body. He felt the vibration of the deck,
listened for the lift or for secret doors to open spilling out marines but
nothing had changed. Eliar was truly alone with the Admiral.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar
dumped the Admiral off his chair and stood over the holographic keyboard. Fortunately
the Admiral was still logged in and had been keeping a file of the conversation
the entire time. He opened the ships logs and began scrolling over the dates of
the fleet. The order for the attack was easily found on the Admiral’s computer.
It was simple but confusing. “Genetic and biological experiment with Stryker
program gone wrong. Entire planet infected. Quarantine and implement scorched
earth procedures.” The order was issued from General Kayne’s office. His mentor
General Kayne had ordered the death of everyone he loved and Eliar too if he had
been home. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar paused at the final order and clenched
his fists against the desk. This was not the time for emotions he reminded
himself. He must keep himself in control and take his revenge on everyone.
Exactly who ‘everyone’ was would be determined as time moved on. The time and
place for General Kayne would come, but not today. Today though was the time to
seek vengeance on those who had carried out the order. </span>Using the
Admiral’s terminal he sent instructions to the rest of the ship. He informed
them that the biological contaminate on the planet was spreading to the other
ships. He ordered a lock down of the ship and ordered an open fire on the other
five ships of the fleet. It was imperative that the contagion be exterminated. </div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Waves of
destructive energy fired into the fleet without warning. Without shields and
with the close proximity they were quickly turned into space scrap. Eliar
watched the fireworks show from the Admiral’s desk. Five down, one to go. There
would be marines coming soon he was sure. He typed in commands to give himself
full access to the ships systems while on route to leave and placed the ship in
lock down. Blood red light switched on as regular power was cut, casting the
isolated room in shadows. Eliar blended in well before moving to the lift
doors. Pity to destroy the art, but there was no way he could get it back to
his shuttle and still take out the battle ship. The door to the lift slid open
and Eliar stepped inside. He pushed the button for level three and double
checked his weapons as the lift started shooting downwards. There would be
guards and technicians in the torpedo rooms. He wondered how many he was going
to have to take out before getting where he needed to be.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The lift
slowed to a stop and the indicator light showed that he was on level three, but
the door did not open. Eliar felt his face muscles twitch into a smile but knew
that engineers were working hard on lifting the Admirals lock down command. He
typed into the lift command board and the doors parted silently to reveal two
marines standing out front the lift with their backs turned. Panels on his
thigh armor lifted away to show knife housings and with a practiced motion
Eliar pulled both and lurched forward, driving the blades into the marines and
casting them back into the lift before they had a chance to defend themselves.
The adrenaline ebbed and he moved into the hall in a low crouch keeping an eye
on the environment for traps. He passed an armory and a floor plan map to the
Weapons Bay and had yet to encounter any hostility.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar
was running short on time. It was not going to take long before someone found
the Admiral dead. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The rest
of this corridor was clear of personnel and Eliar quickly made his way down it.
He passed several doors, mostly labeled mechanical rooms, one soldier ready
room, escape pod hatches; finally he saw what he was looking for at the end,
torpedo room. He pictured the usual setup in his head. Everyone would be at
their stations. All weapons had just been fired. There would be some clean up
happening and everyone would be on edge waiting to find out what happened next.
Eliar took a deep breath and keyed in his code at the door. It slid silently
open to reveal six men and two more on the catwalk above.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar
flung two knives, two of eight men dropped instantly. The rest were just
registering that the door had opened when Eliar pulled his rifle from its
holster. He fired twice and two gunnery officers dropped. Three marines and a
tech dove for cover and returned fire. A lucky shot or skill from a marine had
one of his bolts smash into Eliar’s chest and they all looked to see the
Stryker fall. He didn’t. The crackle of charged energy danced over the personal
shield of the armor, illuminating in gold light the frightened V slit visor
before the shield absorbed the energy and Eliar moved behind a support beam as
the marines checked their weapons, cursing at their bad luck.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The tech
yelled at him, “Don’t hit one of the torpedoes or we’re all dead.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“We’ve
got a Stryker shooting at us, we’re pretty much dead anyway.” one marine said
as he shifted from cover to shoot but was taken down with a burst from Eliar’s
rifle. His body hit the floor with a thud and he didn’t move. The other two
marines huddled down by the tech. They were going to wait Eliar out until backup
arrived.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Time for
a new strategy. Eliar holstered his rifle and called out, “I don’t want to kill
you. I just need the room. I’ll let you live if you drop your weapon and exit.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“How do
I know you won’t shoot us in the back?” the tech called before being hushed by
a marine.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“I give
you my word. You will leave this room alive if you drop your weapons.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“Let’s
take the risk.” The tech said to the marines, “I think it’s our best chance.”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“Fine.”
The marines dropped their guns and started walking to the door with the tech
right on their heels. They quickened their pace past Eliar who simply watched
them go. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Right as
the door slid open a siren went off blaring loudly with a flashing red light. A
stressed voice came over the intercom. “This is the Captain speaking. Admiral
Neilson is dead, killed by the Stryker. If you have eyes on him, shoot him.
We’re trying to fix the damage but know this. He is responsible for our fleet’s
destruction” The marines turned to look back at Eliar and the door started to
slide shut in another lock down mode. Eliar jumped forward and shoved them out
the door. It sealed behind them with a hiss. He smashed the control panel and
turned back to the task at hand.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Time was
up, the whole ship was about to know where Eliar was, but he had given his
word, they would leave that room alive. He didn’t promise they would live out
the day. How he was going to live was now a mystery though. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Eliar
quickly went over the dead in the torpedo bay, leaving the two on the cat walk
to drip blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pocketed I.D. cards,
credits and little tokens before checking the charges of their rifles, still
full. Good. Next Eliar turned to one of the long torpedoes lining the wall
ready to get shot out the tube. He began the meticulous act of unscrewing an
access panel labeled danger, explosives. In just a few minutes Eliar had
exposed the explosive ordinance in the torpedo and rigged the marine’s weapons
to overload their battery packs and explode causing a chain reaction taking out
the first torpedo which in turn should force every torpedo in the room to blow.
To ensure that he moved to the Weapons terminal and pulled up the inventory.
This room housed 30 torpedoes and by removing their safeties with his command
code there would be no stopping the detonation. Explosions that size from
inside the ship should send a reaction clear to the engine room and destroy the
entire vessel. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Pounding
echoed against the door to the corridor. He watched as a focused beam of light
burned into the door and started cutting upwards. The problem was that there
was now no way back to his ship. Eliar sighed and looked around the room taking
in his resources. He nodded and grabbed his communicator and placed a call to
his ship board computer.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“Computer,
record this message and relay it to Allena Dartin. I don’t have time to wait
for a return message. Begin recording. “Allena, this is Eliar Meine. I need an
emergency pick up. I’ll be in orbit of the planet Minus Tenu. Track my
communicators signal once you are in system. End record, begin transmission. If
someone attempts to board, self destruct”</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
computer acknowledged the request and Eliar went back to work. He had spied one
of the torpedo chutes down for maintenance. He checked the board and said the
locking hatch wouldn’t guarantee a seal. He could make it out through the tube
if he could re-engage the firing mechanism and even suck out a few marines and
techs into the void. Hopefully Allena would get his message and pick him up
before he used up all the air. He guessed even in a meditative trance he would
only have a day, maybe a day and half. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">The
cutting beam was already on the downward angle and the alarms had been shut
off. Eliar could feel the anticipation and excitement behind the door and any
second a whole lot of marines would be coming in at him guns blazing. Eliar
ensured the feedback loop in the torpedo was set to explode and quickly jumped
up to the shell he had loaded into the firing tube rack. He slapped the button
that would start the conveyor belt that loaded the tube and hoped that his
quick little computer program would work with the firing of the tube once
loaded. The belt began moving and Eliar saw the door break open, weapons fire
spraying out through the smoke with no target. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">He
entered the tube and the airlock door clanged closed automatically behind it
but didn’t seal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He started running down
the dark chute as the countdown appeared on his HUD before the outer doors
opened into space and he was flung out into the cold. A blast of flame was the
last thing anyone on the ship saw as the overloaded rifles exploded and the
chain reaction breached out. The ship had been destroyed in a spectacular event
of fire and energy.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Twenty
hours later, just as Eliar’s air was running out a custom shuttle exited
hyperspace. It was painted black and difficult to see against the backdrop of space.
No markings identified it. The ship quickly arrowed in on Eliar’s position and
pulled him inside. The pilot wasted no time and quickly made the jump back into
hyperspace. Eliar would live to fight another day. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17695202483333186714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986031188717667456.post-8026610546629250742012-09-25T13:29:00.003-07:002012-09-25T13:29:45.558-07:00The Keeper's Universe is pleased to announce a partnership with Desert Mirage Films. They are a Utah based production company working on creating their first full length film. We will be handling the literary end of the business and sorting through screenplay submissions to pass on to the producer and director. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17695202483333186714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986031188717667456.post-7556913877730519792012-09-17T06:41:00.002-07:002012-09-17T06:41:35.141-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdzxZyEQoVaEpEZ5t4Zgg-GEms44_RHY0HT_NPRCwL0xVhnm8bSvyW0hwSbkRRI07cmu41pDCe1xmuWys3WBuv3ZJ1hiKBT0n_zzcV8jx5rqjku-e8EbgfyyrPowSq35sT_vq_YmDLb5c/s1600/PangeaLiberationCoverbrighter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdzxZyEQoVaEpEZ5t4Zgg-GEms44_RHY0HT_NPRCwL0xVhnm8bSvyW0hwSbkRRI07cmu41pDCe1xmuWys3WBuv3ZJ1hiKBT0n_zzcV8jx5rqjku-e8EbgfyyrPowSq35sT_vq_YmDLb5c/s320/PangeaLiberationCoverbrighter.jpg" width="199" /></a></div>
Pangea Liberation the novel is available in paperback and as an eBook at amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Pangea-Liberation-Keepers-Universe-ebook/dp/B005LIYYB2/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top<br />
<br />
It is also available as an eBook in multiple formats at smashwords.com: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/87223<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17695202483333186714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986031188717667456.post-10837893096228007692012-09-13T11:39:00.000-07:002012-09-13T11:39:34.296-07:00The Keeper-Pedia: A Guide Book to The Keeper's UniverseThe Keeper-Pedia is a guide book to all things set in The Keeper's Universe.<br />
It now available for download at amazon.com at this link:<br />
<br />
http://www.amazon.com/The-Keeper-Pedia-Keepers-Universe-ebook/dp/B0098PZ76U/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1347485046&sr=8-1&keywords=keeper-pedia<br />
<br />
You can also get it in a wide variety of formats here:<br />
<br />
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/235698 <br />
<br />
Everything you need to know about setting your stories in The Keeper's Universe can be found in the guidebook.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17695202483333186714noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7986031188717667456.post-44216454845822160622012-09-07T14:08:00.003-07:002012-09-07T14:08:54.281-07:00Questions and Answers<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">What is The Keeper’s
Universe Publishing Group?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Keeper’s Universe is a unique science fiction universe
originally created by Matthew Mangum as a place to set his stories, the first
novel being Pangea Liberation. The universe has been expanded and enriched
through a message board role-playing and storytelling site by the same name.
The Keeper’s Universe Publishing Group seeks to transform the stories and
characters created for the message boards and share them with the world through
published eBooks. We also wish to enhance the universe further by adding new
stories and characters from additional contributors and up and coming new
authors. We are also always looking for fresh art set in the universe as well
as cover artists for the books to be published.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">How does it work?<br />
</b>Matthew Mangum is the creative director of the Keeper’s Universe. He has
created a guide book called the “Keeper-pedia.” It contains a broad history of
the universe from the demise of Earth up through about 3000 years later,
roughly where Pangea Liberation is set. It also contains a list of planets with
a brief history of each; descriptions of major characters that have had
influence in the galaxy; as well as a variety of technologies used in the universe.
The guide book will give you enough background to set the stories you write
using new characters you create as well as drawing on characters that others
have created and given permission to use. The Keeper’s Universe publishing
House will collect short stories to be published as a collection. We will also
publish novellas and full novels. For the time being all books will be
published as an eBook available for Amazon’s Kindle, Barnes and Noble’s Nook
and in a variety of other eBook formats for the iPad and other tablets and
smart-phones. By creating stories set in the Keeper’s Universe you will get
your writing published sooner and be part of an overall series. You will also
start collecting royalties right away. By being part of a larger overall series
you will also gain more publicity and thus make more money. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">How do contributing
authors get paid?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Authors of full novels set in the Keeper’s Universe will get
100% of royalties from sale of their book. Depending on the price of the novel
most royalties will start at $2 per sale and possibly higher. Royalties for
contributors to collections of short stories will be divided among the
contributing authors. The hope is to earn each other 50 cents per book sale. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">How does The Keeper’s
Universe Publishing House get paid?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The bulk of the money to going to The Keeper’s Universe
Publishing House comes from the sale of the guide books to potential
contributing authors. There is also a small editor’s fee for the publication of
short story collections. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">How does Keeper’s
Universe Publishing House distribute the guide book to potential contributing
authors?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The “Keeper-pedia” is for sale for $2.99 through a variety
of eBook platforms. It can be purchased and downloaded from Amazon.com,
Barnesandnoble.com or Smashwords.com</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">How do contributing
authors add to the guide book?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With the publication of each new novel and short story
collection the “Keeper-pedia” will be updated with additional back-story, new
planets, technology and characters that can be used in further books. Updated
versions of the book will be available for free to those who have already
purchased it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">How is the copyright
of contributing authors protected?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All contributing authors will hold the copyright to their
own works. Publishing as part of The Keeper’s Universe requires approval of the
creative director, thus under your copyright will be a statement that the book
is licensed under The Keeper’s Universe Publishing Group. We also ask that when
drawing on characters created by other authors in the group that you
acknowledge those individual contributors either on an acknowledgement/thanks
page or on the copyright page. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">How does The Keeper’s
Universe Publishing group market the books?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most of our marketing is done through social networking and
online advertising. We invite all contributing authors to submit to the
Keeper’s Universe blog telling us how they came up with their story and some of
their writing process. Additional media content will be provided on the Facebook
page for The Keeper’s Universe as well as each individual books page. Twitter
will be used for announcements. Contributing authors are always encouraged to
market their works in any way they see fit. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">What services will
The Keeper’s Universe Publishing Group provide to contributors?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Keeper’s Universe Publishing Group will format your
manuscript for publication. Some editing will be provided. For additional cost
a professional editor will go through you manuscript. We will do our best to
market your book to the target audience. Being part of The Keeper’s Universe
Publishing Group also gets you contact information with other authors in the
group so that you can share work, receive feedback and network. Any author
desiring to opt out of sharing their contact information may do so. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Does it cost
contributing authors anything to be part of the universe?</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Only the cost of purchasing the “Keeper-pedia” guide book.
We also recommend that you read the works of other writers set in The Keeper’s
Universe. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Who designs cover
art? </b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Authors of full novels set in The Keeper’s Universe will be
responsible for creating or acquiring their own cover art. We can refer several
excellent graphic designers if needed. The Keeper’s Universe takes care of the
cover art for short story collections. If you are an artist interested in
having your art featured as part of the Keeper’s Universe and as cover art
please submit a portfolio. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Address additional questions and manuscript submissions to keepersuniverse@gmail.com </div>
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