《Derek's Quest》


 Prologue

    Kayla watched fearfully as the city guards marched the old man out to the center of the town square. She was still small enough to squeeze through to the front of the crowd that had gathered for the old man''s execution, and the adults gathered behind her were too intent on the proceedings to pay any attention to the little servant girl sitting at their feet. It was fortunate for Kayla that she had reached only five Rens of age, although she probably didn¡¯t see it that way. Everyone¡¯s attention was focused on the 10-foot stake in the center of the town square where the guards were piling firewood.


    Kayla, on the other hand, was concerned only about the old man. She cringed when one of the guards shoved him roughly. She''d grown quite fond of him over the last few months. It didn''t seem possible that this kindly old man could be so evil or dangerous that people would burn him at the stake in a public execution. She watched as they set him up against the stake, and bound his hands behind him with a few lengths of rope. Soon the High Counselor stepped up on a small platform that had been erected nearby, and turned to address the assembled crowd.


    "Good people. Thank you for coming. What you are about to witness brings me no pleasure, yet it must be done. You see, the man before you is guilty of the most dangerous forms of heresy. His ideas threaten the very fabric of the society we have worked so hard to create. Perhaps some among you are tempted to place credence in his words. Do not. What you are about to witness should serve as a lesson to us all. Guards, proceed with the execution."


    When the High Counselor finished his speech, the guards obediently set fire to the kindling stacked at the old man¡¯s feet with several torches that had been prepared in advance. Kayla was horrified to see that the flames spread quickly around the base of the stake. As the flames licked around the soles of the old man''s boots, the crowd began to jeer and mock him, and several onlookers even accused him of being in league with dark powers. Others called him various names. Some called him a traitor.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    This was too much for Kayla to bear. As the tears streamed down her face, she stood and began to work her way back through the crowd, intending to return to her humble servant''s quarters. She had taken only a few steps when the atmosphere suddenly changed. There was a sudden collective gasp from the crowd, and the jeering and name calling stopped. Kayla paused and turned to see what had caused the abrupt change. By now she was separated from the old man by several rows of spectators, so she couldn''t see what had happened, but she could make out bits and pieces of nearby conversations.


    "Where did he go?" asked one puzzled onlooker.


    "It''s the strangest thing I''ve ever seen," said another, "One minute he was there, and the next minute, he was gone."


    Another muttered, "So the High Counselor was right after all. He must have been in league with dark powers."


    "Attention, Attention." The High Counselor was addressing the crowd again.


    "Do not be alarmed. This is just further confirmation of the character of the accused. I am sure it must be quite clear to all that dark forces have been at work here today. There is nothing more to be done. Please return to your normal activities."


    Kayla didn''t know what to make of the High Counselor''s strange speech, so she stood where she was while the crowd dispersed. When everyone was finally gone, Kayla could clearly see the burning stake. There was no sign of the old man.

 Chapter 1 - Derek

    Derek moved through the marketplace as quietly as he could. He''d learned from bitter experience not to draw undue attention to himself. When he reached the booth where the town baker displayed his breads, he scanned the shelves quickly for a loaf that was just the right size to make a meal for himself and his mother. Today he was in luck. The baker''s shop was not busy, so no one was likely to notice him, and there were several suitable loaves to choose from. Derek picked up a nearby loaf, quickly paid the baker, and made his way back toward the south gate of the city.


    A few minutes later Derek approached the gate. Just as he had done every day for years, he ducked into a small alcove in the wall of the city for a moment, so he could observe the gate traffic. He waited until the guards appeared to be particularly busy inspecting the contents of a large cart. Then he started through the gate, desperately trying not to attract any attention. Unfortunately, he hadn''t noticed the guard standing on the other side of the cart.


    "You there. Where do you think you''re going in such a hurry this morning?"


    Derek stopped and turned toward the guard, being careful to look down, hoping he would not be recognized.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "I was just buying this bread for my mother. I''m going home now."


    Derek had answered the question as meekly as he could.


    "Wait a minute. I know you. You''re that traitor''s kid, aren''t you?"


    Derek flinched at the guards reference to his "traitorous" father. This was exactly the sort of thing he''d been hoping to avoid. Whenever the guards noticed him, they always called him names and said terrible things about his father. At least this guard hadn''t called him "Traitor''s Blood" or "Son of the Heretic" the way some did. Derek decided he''d had enough anyway.


    Against his better judgment, he screwed up his courage and said, "You keep saying that. But no one will tell me what my father did that was so bad. I''m really tired of being called names all the time and not knowing why. So tell me. What did my father do?"


    Derek shifted his weight slightly, in case he needed to run away very quickly, but he wasn''t prepared for the guard''s response.


    The guard''s face grew fearful as he barked "That''s enough. You''d best keep your mouth shut or you might end up disappearing the same way your father did."


    The guard drew his sword and waved it menacingly.


    "Now move along."


    Derek, feeling vaguely unnerved by the unexpected behavior of the guard, did as he was told, and moved on without another word.

 Chapter 2 - Conner

    Conner fired his last remaining missile at the left front underbelly of the Lumerian invasion ship he''d been toying with for the last hour. As he watched the ship disintegrate in a cloud of vapor, he flipped up his targeting display and toggled the switch to activate his communications equipment.


    "Patch me through to Assistant Records Officer Arkin at Outpost 7."


    "One moment, please."


    As Conner waited for the Comms Center to establish communications with his friend Arkin, he had time to mull over Arkin''s crazy theory about the Lumerians. Arkin claimed to have discovered something strange about the weaknesses in the Lumerian fighters. Conner had just spent an hour working out the exact weakness of that Lumerian ship in order to provide more information for his friend''s research. He didn''t believe a word of it, but Arkin was a good friend, and he''d grown quite bored from flying those routine patrols along the border recently. He''d promised to share his experiences with Arkin in return for Arkin''s help in getting a more interesting assignment. Arkin had kept his part of the bargain and so would Conner.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Arkin here."


    "Conner here. Got some new information for you. The current crop of Lumerian space ships appears to have a vulnerability in their left front underbellies. It looks like they have a blind spot there. If you target them from that direction, they can''t see you, and their anti-missile systems react slowly to the missiles you fire at them."


    "Thanks Conner. You have no idea how much this helps."


    And Conner also had no idea how much trouble it was going to cause for his friend.

 Chapter 3 - Derek鈥檚 Mother

    Derek couldn''t wait to get home. Today would be his 17th Renewal day. Ever since his father had died 12 Rens ago, his mother had refused to answer any questions about what had happened.


    All she would say was, "Wait until you are older."


    But last month he could stand it no longer. In response to her usual reply to his questions he had screamed in frustration, "But I''m older NOW!"


    He was surprised when, instead of becoming angry and punishing him as he had expected, she became very silent and remained lost in thought for several minutes. Then she told him he was right. She just didn''t want to accept it. She needed time to prepare, but she would tell him everything she knew on the next Renewal day.


    As he ran through the market toward the road that led home, he was aware of signs of the Renewal beginning already. The sun was just beginning to pass through the highest point in the sky. As it did so, he could see the telltale fuzziness around the clouds that he''d come to realize was the first sign of Renewal. Next, he noticed that the bluish glow around the sun was beginning to fade to a more comfortable amber.


    It seemed to take forever, but eventually he reached the city gate. As usual, he ran through quickly, hoping to avoid attracting the attention of the guards stationed there. This time he was lucky. There was a particularly noisy dispute between the guards and a wealthy merchant concerning how much tax the merchant owed.


    Derek slipped easily through the gate without attracting any attention, and continued to run along the single road leading south from the city. As he ran, he tried to come up with an explanation for the guard''s strange behavior the day before. The guard had clearly told him that his father had disappeared. Yet his mother always claimed that his father was dead. His youthful imagination conjured up several scenarios that might explain the discrepancy, each more outrageous than the last. None of the theories he came up with seemed very likely from what little he knew of the world. And he knew even less about his father.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Derek was distracted from these reflections by the sudden appearance of a Newmer on the road in front of him. Oddly, this Newmer was an adult, unlike the few Newmers Derek had come across in his life. He wasn''t actually sure this strange person was a Newmer, but it was the only possible explanation for the Newmer''s odd clothing. The Newmer was wearing a strange shimmering material that seemed to consist of one piece that covered him from shoulder to toe. It was of a color that Derek had never seen before, and when the sunlight caught it a certain way, it reflected the light so that it hurt Derek''s eyes. One familiar thing Derek could see was a belt made of a similar material, but in a different color. Attached to the belt was a strangely shaped pouch. It didn''t seem like it would be very useful to Derek. Closer inspection revealed that the Newmer was also holding an object that was shaped like the pouch. Perhaps the pouch was intended to be used to carry the object.


    As he approached the Newmer more closely, it occurred to Derek that he could use a new pair of shoes, so he removed his shoes and silently placed them on the ground in front of the Newmer, and facing toward the town center, according to tradition. He paused briefly, wondering why this Newmer had appeared fully grown and dressed in such a strange costume, then he continued toward the little hut down the road where he lived with his mother. The Newmer, as expected, had remained motionless and silent.


    When Derek finally arrived at his home and walked through the front door, he found his mother waiting for him. Derek had often wished he could find a better place for his mother to live, but after his father''s disappearance Derek and his mother had been forced to move outside the city. They were only permitted to live in the little hut because it was considered too poor and dingy for anyone else. His mother was sitting at their one small table, staring at a small box that he''d never seen before. It was almost thick enough to hold a loaf of bread, and slightly longer. His mother motioned for him to take a seat. When he''d seated himself in the other chair, she began the explanation she''d promised.

 Chapter 4 - Derek鈥檚 Father

    "Your father was a very good man who was also very wise. In the end, I think it was his wisdom that caused his undoing. But I digress. Your father was Chief Adviser to the City Council. It was his job to advise them on all manner of questions related to the running of the city. Normally, not much was required of him, since the city pretty much takes care of itself. So he had a lot of free time on his hands to do research for his own amusement. Apparently, one aspect of his research led him to a very important discovery. This discovery was so troubling to him that he never explained it to me. But he did share it with the City Council. They didn''t believe him, and when your father threatened to tell everyone in the city about it, they accused your father of heresy and had him thrown in the city dungeon for a year while they debated his fate. The only visitors who were allowed to see your father were myself and a little servant girl who brought him food every day. Finally, after the year was up, the City Council decided to put him to death before the newly elected council members could take office. They were afraid some of the newly elected council members might be more inclined to listen to your father''s ideas.


    I was allowed to spend only a few hours with your father each month before he died. He never wanted to tell me about his discovery because he thought that if he did, the City Council would accuse me of heresy as well. The last time I went to see him, he explained all of this to me, and he gave me a message for you. He said it was too dangerous to write down, and he made me memorize it. He said I should give you the message after you had passed 17 Rens. He also gave me this box, and said I should hide it away in a safe place until you were old enough to receive the message."


    Derek''s mother paused for a moment. Then, as if recalling a long faded memory, she spoke.


    "The message he gave me for you is ''Seek the Root of Mount Clayton''."


    Derek''s mother fell silent after she recited the message. She could see that Derek would need some time to digest this new information.


    Derek was puzzled by the message.  It didn''t seem to make any sense at all. Trees had roots. Mountains did not. And he was troubled to hear that his father''s disappearance was over such a seemingly insignificant thing. His mother always claimed his father was dead, but Derek had never been able to accept that. Besides, if his father was dead, why would everyone in the city be so afraid to talk about him. After glancing quickly at his mother for permission, he reached for the box.


    When Derek took the box from the table and lifted the lid to peer inside, he saw an object unlike any he had ever seen before. It was about the length of his lower arm, and made of a strange drab grayish material that he couldn''t identify. Running along its length were five rows of symbols. To Derek''s untrained eye, they looked similar to the symbols that were carved in the faces of some of the official buildings in the city. He lifted it out gingerly, and was surprised to find that it was very light. Turning it over, he found that it was completely flat and unmarked on the other side. He looked to his mother for an explanation, but she only shook her head sadly saying,


    "I''m sorry. I''ve never looked in the box until today. I think I was afraid of what I might find. I have no idea what this thing might be, or why it was so important to your father. Perhaps when you find the Root of Mount Clayton, you''ll also discover the purpose of this object."


    "But how did he disappear then?" asked Derek. He wasn''t sure he wanted to hear the answer now, but he had to know. Derek''s mother winced slightly at the word "disappear." She''d never been able to convince Derek that his father was dead. But she didn''t feel like arguing about that right now, so she continued her story.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "They declared him a heretic, and arranged a public execution by burning at the stake. But when he was tied up to the stake and they started the fire, a strange thing happened. Before the fire had grown sufficiently strong to harm your father, he vanished without a trace. Of course the council claimed that this was the final proof that your father was in league with dark powers, but many onlookers were not convinced. Later, I heard that one particular councilman was particularly hostile toward your father. I''ve always believed that your father''s discovery must have threatened him in some way. Soon after, this councilman was elevated to the position of High Counselor of the city. It seems to me that his advance was a little too fast. I''ve always suspected that some sort of cheating or foul play was involved. Of course, I can''t prove anything. That''s all I know."


    Derek was disappointed that his mother could not tell him more about what happened to his father. He was also upset that the city council had actually tried to kill his father in a public execution. This was new information. They must have been very upset to want to make a public spectacle or his father. Whatever his father had discovered must be very important.


    He also wished his mother hadn''t waited so long to tell him about his father. It was something he had wondered about for practically his whole life. It had not helped that he often heard his mother crying at night when she thought he was asleep. He wanted to comfort her, but of course, he had not known what to say.


    Hearing his mother''s story made Derek more determined than ever to clear his father''s name, so he began making preparations. He had a rough idea of where he should start, since everyone knew where Mount Clayton was located. It was a large mountain that was just visible far off in the distance to the north of the city.


    The next morning Derek set off on his journey to find "the Root of Mount Clayton," whatever that might be. He said a short tearful goodbye to his mother, and started up the road toward the city. Although he could see Mount Clayton rising up above the horizon north of the city on clear days, he''d never traveled any farther from the city than the little hut he lived in, so he had no idea how long the journey might take. Derek had never heard of anyone ever actually making the journey there. On reflection, Derek suddenly realized that this was odd, considering that it was such a well known and clearly visible location. He hoped he would be able to make the food and water he''d thought to stuff in his backpack last long enough to complete the journey. He also had some hazy idea about finding more food and water along the way. He was pleased that he''d had the good fortune to be the first to meet the Newmer the day before. He was going to need the new pair of shoes that had appeared magically at the foot of his bed this morning. Derek was momentarily grateful that even though the city council had shunned his family, the gods apparently still felt that his contribution to the Newmer was worthy of the usual reward. He imagined that this was evidence that his father had not deserved his fate, and was comforted by the thought.


    As he approached the city gates, he paused a moment to consider whether he should travel through the city, or go around the city wall. He was in a hurry to solve the mystery his father had left for him, but he wasn''t at all sure he wanted to answer the guards'' questions when he left the city through the gate on the opposite side. They would surely be curious about what business he might have north of the city. In the end, his conditioning to avoid the guards at all costs - the result of his long persecution - prevailed, and he decided to go around.


    The sun was just beginning to set when he rejoined the road on the other side of the city. Derek was somewhat disappointed to note that the mountain appeared to be no closer than it had been when he''d started out that morning. He pulled a blanket out of his backpack and looked around for several minutes to find a particularly level spot with as few stones as possible. He put the blanket down on the ground, made himself as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, and tried to sleep.

 Chapter 5 - Arkin

    Arkin was elated by the new information his friend Conner had provided. It was the final piece of a puzzle he''d been working on for many years. He couldn''t wait to share his discovery with the General. He gathered up his research papers from his desk, and stepped out the door of his office. He strode rapidly down the hallway, stepped into the elevator, and pushed the button for the top level of the base, where the General''s offices were located.


    As he stepped out of the elevator, the General''s secretary looked up at him in surprise.


    Arkin addressed the secretary quickly, before he could speak.


    "I know I don''t have an appointment, but I''ve just made the most amazing discovery. The General must be informed immediately."


    "You''d better not be wasting the General''s time with another foolish notion, young man," replied the secretary. The secretary placed such a strong emphasis on the ''young'' that Arkin felt like he was about 12 years old. He was momentarily  unsure how he should react to this treatment.


    "If I interrupted the General every time one of you research types came in to see him, he''d never get any work done," continued the secretary.


    Now Arkin felt he was on more familiar ground. He''d grown accustomed to the military''s disdain for the activities of the research department. Most of them seemed to think that only the pilots served any real function in Space. Researchers never got the respect they deserved. Unfortunately, if Arkin was going to see the General, he needed to get past the secretary. That was just how things were done.


    Arkin, folding his hands in front of him, assumed his best chastised mischief-maker pose.


    "I realize how difficult it must be for you to manage the General''s schedule, him being such an important person and all. Everyone knows he''d be lost without you to keep order in his day. But if you could just see fit to squeeze me in for 15 minutes of the General''s time, I''m sure he''ll be more than happy to hear what I have to tell him."


    As Arkin finished his request, the secretary sat up a little straighter and the expression on his face softened just slightly. That should do it, a dose of flattery to appeal to the military ego, followed by a hint that he was bearing good news.  Everyone knew you had a much better chance of seeing the General if you had good news.


    "Perhaps if the General finishes this session with his advisers early, I can let you have a few minutes. Wait here a moment." The secretary motioned to a nearby chair.


    "Thank you very much. I''m sure the General will be very pleased to hear what I have to say."


    Arkin was not happy about having to wait for the General''s session to end, but he knew he was unlikely to get a better offer from the secretary. Even though Arkin was so excited by his discovery that he could hardly sit still, he sat down in the proffered chair, and considered himself fortunate.


    A few minutes later, his patience was rewarded by the sight of the General''s advisers leaving the conference room. The secretary noticed them as well, and picked up the interphone on his desk. After a brief conversation, he motioned to Arkin.


    "Go on in.  The General will see you now. You''d better make it quick though, he has another appointment in 10 minutes."


    Arkin quickly gathered up his research documents and walked into the conference room. The General was seated at the end of a long table surrounded by several chairs. He was engaged in a conversation on his interphone, but as Arkin entered the room, the General motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs. That was a good sign. Arkin sat down in the nearest seat and waited for the General to finish his conversation. Finally, he put down the interphone and addressed Arkin.


    "I don''t know how you convinced my secretary that you needed to see me right away, but you''re here now, so I might as well hear what you have to say."


    Arkin knew he didn''t have much time to convince the General of the importance of the results of his research, so he decided to get to the point as quickly as possible.


    "Sir, I''ve discovered a way to predict the weaknesses of the Lumerian fighters. It seems there is a pattern that repeats itself every 256 cycles. I''ve been collating the data from the last 300 orbits worth of observations by the researchers and..."


    "You mean all you''ve got for me is the result of a bunch of research!" The General interrupted him harshly. "You know I have better things to do than to waste my time with a bunch of figures and history lessons. I can''t believe my secretary let you in here to bother me with such trivial matters. I''m confining you to your quarters for three days."


    Arkin was nearly dumbfounded.


    "But Sir," he managed. "If you''ll just take a moment to hear me out, I''m sure you''ll be impressed with the importance of this discovery."


    "Important discoveries from research! Nonsense! Now get out of my office before I have you brought up on charges for disobeying orders."


    Arkin picked up his papers and quickly left the room. He tried to keep his head up as he walked past the secretary, even though the secretary gave him a dirty look. He had just put down the interphone. Arkin imagined that the General had been admonishing his secretary about wasting his time with research.


    The next day, despite being confined to quarters by the General, Arkin went to see his friend Conner. He just had to tell someone about what he''d discovered. Conner was the only person he could trust not to turn him in for violating his confinement. When Conner opened his door and saw Arkin standing there, he motioned for Arkin to come in quickly.


    ¡°Arkin, what did you say to the General? Everyone in my wing is talking about the researcher who insulted the General and got thrown out of his office. I''m taking a big chance just talking with you. Do you know, some are even saying you''ve been confined to quarters?"If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Actually, I have  been confined to quarters. But I''ve discovered something so important that I can''t keep it to myself."


    "I suppose it has something to do with that data I''ve been collecting for you?"


    "Exactly! I''ve discovered a pattern in the weaknesses of the Lumerian fighters. I''ve been correlating your reports with some I found in the research archives describing battles that took place more than 300 orbits ago.  It all started when I began reading about those battles. I discovered that as every new wave of Lumerian fighters appeared, there would always be a weakness that could be exploited to make them easy targets for our fighters."


    "I was curious to see if that was still the case, so I asked you to start looking for special vulnerabilities in the current attack waves. As you know, you found several. What you don''t know is that the weaknesses you reported exactly match those that were described in battles that took place exactly 256 cycles ago, and in each of these cycles, there have been exactly 256 attack waves."


    Arkin could see that Conner was beginning to grasp the impact of what he was saying.


    "You mean it''s possible for us to know just how to most efficiently wipe out the Lumerians before they begin their attacks?" Conner asked.


    "That ''s exactly what I am saying. I can prove it too. Next time you go out on a mission, try approaching the Lumerian fighters head on, from above. I think you''ll be surprised at the results."


    "If what you''re saying is true, Arkin, this could be the most important discovery in countless cycles! You''ve got to keep trying to get the General to believe you."


    "I know, I know, but you know how he feels about us ''research'' types. I can''t get him to listen to me. I''m going to try again with one of his Lieutenants. But just in case it doesn''t work out, I''ve made you a copy of the results of my research. I suggest you hide it in a safe place, but where you can get to it before each mission. That way you can have the benefit of advance knowledge about the Lumerian fighters without necessarily being associated with a rebel researcher. I wouldn''t want you to suffer on my account."


    "Thanks Arkin, I''ll do just that." Conner took the documents Arkin offered him and disappeared into the next room for a moment. When he returned, he said, "I''ve put your research papers in my personal wall safe. You can be sure I''ll make good use of them."


    Just then, Arkin was startled by the a very loud siren. He jumped up in surprise, but Conner merely shook his head slightly and smiled at Arkin''s reaction.


    "Don''t worry, Arkin. That''s just the attack siren. You get used to it after a while. I''ve got to go. I''ll let you know if you''re right about this wave of Lumerian fighters."


    Arkin followed Conner out the door into the hallway. He watched briefly as Conner ran down the hall toward the hangar where his fighter was no doubt already awaiting its pilot. Then he turned around and walked down the hallway in the other direction. With all the extra activity in the hallways, it would have been easy for Arkin to return to his quarters without being noticed, but instead he turned down the corridor leading to the Lieutenants'' offices. As he approached their secretary, one of the Lieutenants stepped out of his office into the corridor.


    "You there, aren''t you that researcher the General confined to quarters yesterday!"


    Arkin was so surprised to be recognized that he replied without thinking.


    "Yes, sir. I am Arkin."


    "You know the penalty for disobeying the General."


    The lieutenant turned and addressed his secretary. "Call the MP''s and have this man thrown in the brig immediately." Then he drew his personal firearm and aimed it at Arkin''s chest.


    "Stand where you are young man. It would be a pain to have to fill out all the paperwork that would be necessary if I had to discharge a firearm inside the base."


    "But sir, if you''ll just let me explain..."


    "You had your chance with the General. If he wasn''t impressed then I''m sure I won''t be either. Besides, I have more important things to do than listen to a history lesson."


    Arkin was really getting frustrated with this attitude of superiority he kept running into. He imagined for a second how good it would feel to strike out at the Lieutenant, but since the Lieutenant was pointing a weapon at his chest, he had no choice but to wait for the MP''s to come and throw him in the brig.


    After a sleepless night with a cold hard bench for a bed, Arkin awoke to the sound of  his friend Conner''s voice.


    "Wake up, wake up Arkin. We''ve got to hurry."


    Arkin looked up sleepily at first. After a moment he sat bolt upright on his bench. He had noticed the guard slumped over in a corner. Conner was holding his firearm in a way that made Arkin sure that he had just used it on the guard.


    "What happened? Did you kill him?"


    "No, don''t worry.  I used the setting for ''stun''. He''ll have a nasty headache and a lot of explaining to do when he wakes up though. Come on, don''t you recognize a jail break when you see one?"


    Conner removed a small wristband from the guard''s wrist and pushed a couple of buttons to disable the force field that kept Arkin from leaving the cell. Then he offered the firearm he''d just used to Arkin. When Arkin took the firearm, Conner moved to remove the belt he carried it in as well.


    Although Arkin wasn''t sure this was such a good idea, he accepted the belt Conner offered and fastened it around his waist. Conner''s next words changed his mind.


    "You''ve really gone and done it now, Arkin. They''re planning to court martial you. And since you disobeyed the General''s orders during a Lumerian attack, you might get the death penalty."


    "But if you help me escape they''ll court martial you too. I can''t let you do this."


    "Don''t worry about me. You were right about the Lumerian fighters. When the Lumerians attacked my wing, I nailed six of them within 30 chrons. Everyone''s talking about how I single handedly neutralized a phalanx of Lumerians before they even got off a single shot. I''m a big hero now. They might discipline me, but it will probably be just a slap on the wrist. They can''t afford to lose their best fighter pilot for long. And besides, I hate to say it, but they''ll probably be relieved not to have to deal with you anymore. They might think I did them all a favor."


    Conner led Arkin past two more unconscious guards and out to the relative freedom of the base''s main corridor. Arkin was still reeling from the shock of being broken out of the brig when Conner revealed yet another surprise.


    "Hurry up.  I''ve got my fighter all fueled up and ready to go. You can''t possibly hide out on the base. They''d find you eventually. You have to leave, and it has to be in such a way that they know you''re gone, and they won''t spend much time looking for you."


    Arkin had never been in a fighter before, he wondered how Conner was going to teach him to fly it before the guards woke up and sounded the alarm.


    Conner continued, "I''ve pre-programmed it so you''ll just be a passenger. Just sit back and enjoy the ride!"


    Now Arkin was even more worried. Did Conner really expect him to go along with this crazy scheme? On the other hand, crazy as it was, it sounded better than the death penalty.


    Conner was busy punching in the code to gain access to the hangar where the fighters were located. Apparently he really was serious about this.


    Arkin followed his friend through the airlock. Conner led him off to the right to a short line of fighters. He walked up to a small fighter on the far end, and motioned for Arkin to climb into the cockpit.


    "I''ve set up the smallest one for you. It''s also the fastest. They won''t be able to catch you."


    Arkin climbed into the cockpit of the fighter and strapped himself in. As the cockpit canopy began to seal, he had a sudden thought. He quickly leaned out of the cockpit to ask his friend, "Just where are you sending me then?"


    He just had time to make out his friend''s response as the cockpit canopy continued to close and forced him to pull his head back in.


    "I''m sending you to Gray Space. Where else?"

 Chapter 6 - Gal-Wa

    Gal-Wa was about to conclude his lecture for this week. He couldn''t wait to see the reaction that his thesis would generate. If he was lucky, he might even earn himself a place in the Hall of Thinkers. His ideas would be permanently recorded so that future aspirants would marvel at his brilliance and perhaps build on his ideas.


    "Suppose then that you continued to create polygons with ever more and more sides. No doubt you are all familiar with U-Clid''s recent demonstration of a method of dividing evenly the sides of a quadragon to produce an octagon. Let us suppose that you could perform a similar operation on the resultant octagon, creating a new object with 16 sides. The sides of the new object would be very much shorter than those of the original quadragon. Now consider what would happen if you could repeat this process infinitely. Eventually you would create an object that had so many sides, each of such small dimensions, that they would all run together and appear to be one continuous side. Such a shape would have many unusual properties worth studying. Enough in fact, that I have decided to give this shape a name. I call it a Unigon."


    As he completed this remarkable conjecture, the room grew silent. After a long moment, to Gal-Wa''s horror, the audience erupted in peals of laughter.


    "A Unigon!" cried out one thinker from the back row, "next thing you know he''ll be telling us about numbers that don''t exist!"


    As the laughter increased at this remark, Gal-Wa could not bear it. Hanging his head in shame, he fled the lecture hall and retired to his private quarters. How could this be? Why wouldn''t anyone believe him? He was so sure he was right about this. He''d been perfecting his thesis for months.


    That night, the Moderator came to see him.


    "Gal-Wa," he said, "How could you have been so foolish. You know very well that our sect is known for a profound reluctance to accept new ideas without absolute proof. Did you really think they would accept this notion of yours?"


    "But I''ve checked and rechecked everything so thoroughly. I''m sure I''m right about this. I just don''t know how to convince them."


    "But I would have thought that would be obvious, even to a scatterbrained novice like yourself. You have to produce an example of the object. Even the most conservative of thinkers will not fail to believe evidence that can be seen and touched."


    Gal-Wa was briefly miffed. The Moderator had accused him of being "scatterbrained."


    But after a moment reason prevailed. At least the Moderator seemed willing to accept that perhaps there was some value in Gal-Wa''s ideas. He just needed more proof. Besides, if Gal-Wa was so smart, why hadn''t he thought of trying to make a Unigon already?


    "Very well," Gal-Wa replied. "I will undertake the task of creating the object myself. Perhaps then the closed minds in the Hall of Thinkers will finally be opened to new ideas."


    "That is all well and good, Gal-Wa, but I must insist that you do not devote so much time to this nonsense of yours that you neglect your other work. If I discover that you are neglecting your assigned studies, I will forbid this line of inquiry altogether."


    "I understand, sir." Gal-Wa really had no choice but to accept the Moderator''s conditions. He knew that without the support of the Moderator, he would never be allowed to address the Hall of Thinkers again.


    The next day, Gal-Wa completed his study of indivisible numbers between 100 and 1000 in record time. It was actually quite an interesting field of study. There were four such numbers between one and 10, 10 such numbers between 10 and 100, and 25 such numbers between 100 and 1000. His tutor was trying to find out if there was some formula that could predict how many such numbers there were between 1000 and 10000. Or if a formula could be found for any similarly regular system of categorizing the indivisible numbers.


    Still, Gal-Wa sensed that perhaps his Unigon might lead to even more fundamental discoveries concerning the nature of reality. So he plowed through the material and rushed back to his quarters to begin work on his Unigons.


    He started with a quadragon of parchment and folded it in half. Next he folded it in half again so that he had a new quadragon. Then he unfolded the parchment, and cut along the visible creases so that he had four new quadragons of parchment. He set three of them off to one side of the bench, and applied U-Clid''s method to fold the corners of the fourth parchment such that the resulting shape had eight equal length sides. When he repeated the process on this parchment, he was rewarded with a new object containing 16 equal length sides. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    By now the sides were starting to get very small. Gal-Wa was faced with a dilemma. He could see that his parchment was indeed beginning to look very much like the Unigon his theories predicted. But the parchment was getting to be almost impossible to fold. He decided that what he really needed to do was to start with a bigger parchment. Reluctantly, he set his experiment aside and went to sleep.


    The next day, Gal-Wa again finished his assigned studies in record time. Then he rushed back to his quarters to continue working on his pet project. This time, he started by connecting four sheets of parchment together to make one big quadragon of parchment. Then he started applying U-Clid''s technique again to create a new sheet with eight equal length sides. This time when he repeated U-Clid''s technique to create a shape with 16 sides, the parchment was still big enough to work with. He continued to apply U-Clid''s technique 12 more times, so that he now had a very small parchment with 65,536 equal length sides. Gal-Wa was very pleased with the result. He set his new creation on a small table at one end of the room and stepped across to the other side of the room to look at it from a distance. It did indeed appear to him that the new shape had only one side. He could almost imagine that if this process could be continued infinitely, he would indeed have a "Unigon." By now it was getting late, and since his tutors were likely to take a dim view of him napping during his studies, he went to sleep.


    The next morning he checked his "Unigon" to make sure it hadn''t been just a dream, then went happily off to his first lesson. When he came back to continue his project at the end of this day, he was dismayed to find he''d apparently reached some sort of fundamental limit with his Unigon. No matter how hard he tried, he could not make one with double 65,536 sides. Just as he was finishing the final fold in U-Clid''s process, the shape would revert to its original 65,536 sided form.


    Over the next several weeks, Gal-Wa spent many hours trying to find a way around this limit. But no matter how hard he tried he could never find a way to make a shape with more than 65,536 sides. He began to  concoct experiments to test this limit. First he tried just cutting pieces of parchment in half, then cutting each of those in half, and so on. Each time he got to the 16th repetition, he found that it was impossible to perform the 17th such repetition. It was as if quantities greater than 65,536 could not be permitted to exist. He wanted to discuss this new discovery with his instructors, but he knew what their reaction would be. They already thought he was wasting his time with silly notions anyway. This would only provide them with more reason to ridicule his work.


    Finally, he decided to take the advice of the Moderator. What was it he had said about the thinkers?


    "Even the most conservative of thinkers could not fail to believe evidence he could see and feel."


    Rather than continue to make an object with more and more sides, Gal-Wa decided to produce one 65,536-sided object for each thinker. He went to the Moderator and asked for permission to address them once again. At first the Moderator was reluctant to allow him another chance to make a fool of himself after his recent disastrous speech, but when Gal-Wa showed him his almost Unigon, he relented. Gal-Wa spent the next several weeks creating as many Unigons as he could.


    Finally, the scheduled day arrived. The thinkers were assembled in the Hall, and Gal-Wa stepped up to the podium to begin his address. This time he felt certain that things would turn out differently. This time he had proof of the validity of his ideas.


    "Erudite Thinkers...," he began.


    "Always begin with flattery," the Moderator had told him. Very well, that was done.


    "I am here today to report the progress I''ve made in reaching my goal of creating the Unigon, a shape whose existence I hypothesized recently."


    "Not the crazy kid with the Unigon again. I can''t believe we are wasting our time with this," interrupted one thinker.


    Gal-Wa decided he''d better play his trump card.


    "Wait.  I have proof!" he shouted. He picked up the bag of Unigons he''d brought with him and stepped in front of the podium so the entire audience would have a clear view. As he untied the bag, he stepped off the platform. But he missed the first step and tripped. The Unigons in the bag came flying out and started to fall slowly to the ground.


    Gal-Wa was shocked to see that they seemed to fall far too slowly. In fact, it suddenly seemed that everything in the room was moving more slowly than it should. He noticed the Moderator taking a step to come to his aid, but his foot seemed almost frozen above the first step. Then he looked back at the Unigons again. He was amazed to see that he could see each individual Unigon twisting slowly as it fell. First one, then the next would twist slightly and move just a little closer to the ground. It was as if time itself was being distorted. It was the most frightening thing he''d ever experienced. Then suddenly, his terror intensified. It was as if he was deprived of all his senses in one single instant. He was plunged into darkness. That wasn''t the worst of it though. The worst thing was the sudden loss of any connection to himself. It was as if he''d been removed from his body. He could feel no sensation from his toes, his legs, his hands, his arms. Nothing. He endured a few seconds of this torture, and when he began to think he must be losing his mind, his senses returned to normal. But he was somewhere else.


    Meanwhile, in the Hall of Thinkers, the Unigons finally started to hit the floor. As they did, the effects that Gal-Wa had observed began to lessen, until finally, when the last Unigon fell to the floor, time seemed to resume its normal state. There was an immediate uproar in the Hall of Thinkers.


    "What magic is this?" cried one.


    "Why weren''t we told that Gal-Wa was dabbling in the manipulation of time as well as space?" cried another.


    One of the thinkers noticed Gal-Wa''s disappearance. "Look," he cried, "Gal-Wa is gone. Where did he go?".


    The only response to his question was utter silence. Some thinkers were contemplating the significance of Gal-Wa''s sudden disappearance. Others were wondering if there might not be something to this "Unigon" after all.

 Chapter 7 - Arkin II

    Arkin paused a moment to catch his breath. He wasn''t at all sure what had just happened. One moment he was being chased in a scout ship toward GraySpace, and the next, he found himself standing here in the middle of nowhere. When he looked around, all he could see was what appeared to be a path leading off in two directions. He obviously wasn''t in Space anymore. This place was a flat brown surface stretching as far as the eye could see in all directions but one. In that direction he could see a green bulge in the surface. The path he was on consisted of a strip of darker brown that led in the direction of the green bulge. It continued in the other direction as well. The worst of it was that there were no walls or ceilings here but a vast openness that Arkin found very disturbing. Perhaps this was a "planet." He''d read about such places in the base archives, but he''d never thought he would see one.


    He was still considering whether he was more disturbed by his recent passage through GraySpace, or the lack of walls and a ceiling in this strange place he found himself in, when he noticed a young man dressed in odd brown clothing running toward him, apparently sticking to the path. He panicked briefly and considered finding a place to hide, but the young man didn''t look all that dangerous, and besides, in this strange place there was nothing that might provide concealment.


    As he waited for the young man to approach him, he considered once more the circumstances that had led him here. After Conner had given him the final confirmation of his theories, he had gone to the General and explained his discovery. He hadn''t expected the reaction he''d gotten. The General had dismissed his ideas as flights of fancy, and had confined him to quarters for three days as punishment for wasting his valuable time. After that Arkin had tried to convince another officer, but that just got him thrown in the brig. Then his friend Conner came to tell him he was going to be court-marshaled for insubordination. In desperation he''d accepted his friend''s help stealing a scout ship. Of course they''d sent a wing of fighters after him. Conner had programmed his scout ship to fly Arkin to the one place he knew they would never follow - GraySpace. Funny, now that he had more time to think about what happened, he wondered if Conner''s motives for helping him were as unselfish as he''d claimed. Perhaps Conner had wanted to get rid of him too. After all, he had only Conner''s word that he had been in danger of a court martial.


    Arkin was distracted from this disturbing thought by the imminent approach of the young man. Having no other options, he drew his firearm and waited to see what would happen. The youth''s reaction to Arkin was very strange. He appeared not at all concerned by Arkin''s firearm. Without a word, he paused briefly to remove his foot gear, and placed it on the ground in front of Arkin facing back toward the direction from which he''d come. It was also the direction of the bulge in the surface on which Arkin was standing. Then he continued barefoot down the path in the direction he''d been traveling.


    "I can take a hint," Arkin thought. So he put on the foot gear and began to walk along the path in the direction the foot gear had been pointing, in the opposite direction from the way the young man went.


    A little further along the road, Arkin spotted a group of structures in the near distance. The bulge was still clearly visible far beyond the city. He recognized the group of structures as a city from references that he''d come across in some of the books in the base archives. As he approached the city, he could see that it was a small town surrounded by a high wall. The path he was following led up to a gate in the city wall which was flanked by two men in the same strange brown clothing as the youth he''d encountered earlier. But these men were carrying large round slabs of wood in one hand, and wore belts. Attached to each of the belts was a narrow leather case. Arkin was mystified as to the purpose of such a clumsy looking device. From the colored strips of cloth on the men''s shoulders, he surmised that they must be guards of some sort, possibly members of a militia. Surely, the leather cases must be extremely clumsy for them. Perhaps they served to contain some sort of weapon. Arkin was glad he''d had the good sense to accept the personal firearm Conner had offered him when he''d broken him out of the brig.


    When Arkin approached the gate, one of the guards blocked his entrance to the gate and laughed, "Hello and what''s this. They''re growing Newmers big these days aren''t they. And clothed in such garb too. The High Counselor is going to want to speak to you. Better follow me."


    With that, the guard strode through the gate, and with a glance over his shoulder to indicate to Arkin that he should follow, continued along a wider path lined with small huts. After a moment, Arkin realized this must be the local equivalent of a supply center, only instead of checking everything out of one central storehouse, it looked like goods were exchanged using some kind of chaotic system that Arkin could not fathom. And there were no records being kept either, as far as he could tell. Arkin wondered if his trip through GraySpace hadn''t addled his brain. Or perhaps these people had made the same trip, and they were the addled ones. The thought comforted him slightly, but he was still apprehensive about this meeting with the High Counselor the guard had mentioned. He hadn''t had much luck with people in positions of authority lately.


    Just then something very strange happened. A very small person appeared without warning right in front of his escort. The small person was completely naked, and immediately started to cry. The guard stopped and took off his shoes, then put his shoes on the feet of the new arrival. A second person came and gave the new person the shirt he had been wearing.


    One by one, townspeople came and each supplied the newcomer with something they had in their possession. This time though, the transaction was completely one-sided, no one seemed to expect anything from the small person in return. They simply gave him one object, and walked away. Arkin did notice two things though. First, everyone seemed to be giving up whatever possession of theirs was in the worst condition. Second, the objects that they gave up were much too big to be of use to the small person when they produced them. But when they were placed in the new person''s possession, they appeared to adjust themselves magically to fit perfectly. Arkin wondered what strange technology was at work here. Up until now everything he''d seen had led him to believe these people were much more primitive. He resolved to try to keep a more open mind in the future.


    The guard allowed Arkin to observe this activity for a moment, then said somewhat sarcastically, "Just what we need. Two Newmers in one day. Still I could use a new pair of shoes."


    When the guard spoke about the newcomer, Arkin made a sudden mental connection. They must think of him as being like this Newcomer. Arkin must also seem to these people to have appeared as if from nowhere. But he had arrived fully grown and with his possessions intact. No wonder the guards thought he was such an oddity. It also made it obvious why they were in such a hurry to take him to see whoever was in charge. Arkin was just beginning to wonder what any of this had to do with the guard needing new shoes when the guard indicated that he should continue walking.


    "Move along now. I''ll not risk banishment to the gray curtain."


    At the guard''s mention of the gray curtain, Arkin stopped suddenly, hoping to ask the guard what he meant. The guard was obviously in no mood to ask questions though, so Arkin thought better of it and continued to walk in silence.


    Eventually, the chaos gave way to a long path lined with trees and orderly rows of dwellings. Even though the trees were unfamiliar - Arkin recognized them from descriptions he''d read in the base archives - Arkin began to feel a little more comfortable. The dwelling places looked like they might provide walls and ceilings. The guard led him straight down the widest path to what Arkin supposed must be the center of the city and climbed up a set of stairs in front of the biggest dwelling of all. The guard stopped in front of the tall doors and spoke briefly to one of the two guards that waited there before disappearing back down the road. These new guards were dressed similarly to the guards at the city gate, but they wore more colored bands on their shoulders. Arkin supposed they must be of higher rank, and thus had the privilege of guarding whatever impressive personage must live in this dwelling. The new guard looked him over, then said gruffly,


    "Yet another Newmer for the council to deal with. Come along then."


    Arkin was getting tired of being called a "Newmer." It was obvious that they were used to seeing new people appear suddenly from out of nowhere. So much so that they''d contracted the word "newcomer" to create a special word to describe people like himself. He wondered if they also knew about GraySpace. Perhaps they could help him get back home with proof that his theories were correct. The image of his superiors'' faces when they had to admit that Arkin had been right all along made him feel better for a moment.


    The guard escorted Arkin into the building and up a short flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs there was a long hallway with several doors spaced every few feet along each side. At the far end of the hallway was a particularly ornate doorway. The guard motioned for him to go in front, and followed him down the hallway to the ornate door. Then he knocked on the door three times. A few seconds later the door opened, and an older man dressed in ornate robes matching the decorations on the door appeared.


    "I''ve brought you another Newmer, my lord."


    The guard turned round and headed back down the hallway. Apparently, no one considered Arkin to be a threat to the old man. Otherwise, they would not have left him unguarded. Either they didn''t know about firearms, or this man possessed great powers, or both. Obviously, he was a person of some authority. The guard had addressed him as "my lord." Arkin surmised that he must be the High Counselor that one of the guards had mentioned earlier.


    The High Counselor paused for a moment, examining Arkin from bottom to top. Arkin had the distinct impression that there was something about himself that made the High Counselor uncomfortable.


    He motioned for Arkin to come inside and stepped back into the room. As Arkin followed him inside, he had time to glance around. The High Counselor''s office was decorated in the same way as the door had been, with long curtains from floor to ceiling all ornately decorated with shiny pieces of some unknown material, and intricate patterns and figures. There was also some furniture in the room that appeared to be made out of something very different from the metal used in the furniture they had on the base. There was a large window on the other side of the room, and he could see the planetary bulge in the distance. At the left and right ends of the room were similarly decorated doors.


    Arkin waited patiently for the man to speak.


    The man spent several apparently futile seconds searching for something on a large desk littered with parchments. Then without looking up he asked, "Do you have a name then?"


    "I am Arkin, Second Assistant to the Head Research Librarian, Sector 7, Delta Quadrant, Montgomery Base."Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    "And I suppose you expect me to be impressed by this?"


    "No, sir, I was just answering your question."


    Arkin was beginning to regret coming into the city. It was obvious that this man did not like him. He didn''t think many of the local townspeople would want to help him if their leader didn''t like him.


    "I understood you to say something about research. What were you researching?"


    "I was examining the records of all the battles we fought with the Lumerians over the last 300 years or so."


    At this, the man stopped searching among his parchments and looked up at Arkin with interest. He continued the interrogation.


    "And who are these Lumerians? You fought battles with them? Do we have anything to fear from them?"


    "The Lumerians are a race of beings from another planet in a distant solar system. We fight battles with them regularly. They seem to invade our space quite regularly. But I don''t think you have anything to fear from them. They attack us in their fighters from space, and I''ve never seen any accounts of them showing any interest in the surface of a planet."


    "Your words mean nothing to me. Planet, space, fighters? It sounds like a lot of nonsense to me. Obviously, it''s going to take a while to unravel whatever mystery you represent. I don''t much care for mysteries, so you''d do well to cooperate with us so we can solve yours as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, I can''t spare the time to deal with you right now."


    The High Counselor went to the biggest desk in the room, and rang a bell that was sitting on one end of the desk. After a moment, a man appeared through the door at the left side of the room.


    "Your wish, my Lord?"


    "Take this Newmer to the guest quarters, and arrange an interview for him in the council chambers for tomorrow morning. He claims to have a high sounding name, with a long winded title, but I only caught the first part of it. We will call him Arkin."


    The servant led Arkin off to another part of the building and showed him a room to spend the night in. The room was similar to the High Counselor''s room, but not as ornately decorated. Arkin heard the distinct sound of a door locking when the servant left him. Perhaps they felt more threatened by his presence than they were willing to admit. He decided to make the best of it, and went to sleep on the funny looking bed in one corner of his room.


    The High Counselor was deeply disturbed by what the Newmer had told him. He claimed to have come from another world of all things. There was no denying that there was something very strange about this Newmer. He wore strange clothes, and had appeared fully grown outside the city gates. The very strangeness of the circumstances surrounding his appearance made him all the more dangerous. It would make it easier for the townspeople to accept his claims. After all, they had the evidence of their own eyes to prove to them that something new and unknown did indeed exist. And he couldn''t help but think about that fiasco with the previous Chief Adviser The previous High Counselor had let that situation get completely out of control. Even when he did finally deal with the old man decisively, it had almost been too late.


    As he came to a decision, he called once more to his servant to come in and join him.


    "Assemble the council in the morning. We must consider what should be done about the Newmer."


    The next morning, Arkin heard a knock on his door, followed shortly by the appearance of the servant he''d met the previous night.


    "Please come with me," the servant said.


    The servant led Arkin to yet another part of the building where there was a very large circular room. All around the outside were seats, mostly occupied by older men and women. There was a small platform in the center of the room. The platform was ringed by a small fence made of that same brown material he''d noticed before. It was obviously intended to keep people from falling off. It reminded him of the box reserved for the accused at a court martial on his star base. The servant escorted him to the platform and opened a small section of the fence so that he could step up on the platform, then told him to stay there, and disappeared again.


    Arkin took this opportunity to examine the room he found himself in more thoroughly. As the councilmen entered the room, they were taking seats that were placed in rings of increasing height as they got further from the center. They all seemed to have pre-assigned seats. He also noticed that the councilmen who wore the finest clothes took the low seats in front and closest to the center of the room. Apparently the hierarchy of authority was reflected in the seating arrangements here, with the highest ranked councilmen seated lowest, and closest to the center. As he turned around to survey the rest of the room, he noticed one particular seat on the lowest level was on a platform raised slightly above its neighboring seats on that level. It also had a low fence around the front half of the raised section. Arkin supposed this must be the seat reserved for the High Counselor. He could easily imagine the General using a similar arrangement to emphasize his importance.


    After a few more minutes, everyone stood up at once, and Arkin supposed that it must be because the High Counselor had just walked into the room. As expected, the High Counselor walked to the special seat Arkin had noticed and sat down. Everyone else in the room immediately took seats as well. This was beginning to look familiar to Arkin. The military where he had come from behaved in exactly the same way. He hoped he wouldn''t find the same intolerance of new ideas here that he''d had to endure from the General and his officers.


    A council member stood up from his seat immediately to the right of the High Counselor and unrolled a piece of parchment. He began to read in somber tones.


    "Honored members of the High Council. We are gathered here today to consider the proper response to the arrival of a stranger to our fair city. The stranger in question stands before you."


    After this simple statement, he turned to the High Counselor, bowed briefly, and sat down.


    Now the High Counselor was standing up, and as he turned to address the council, Arkin was suddenly struck by the irony of his situation. Apparently he''d escaped one court martial only to face the equivalent of a court martial here in this world.


    "In keeping with our most cherished traditions of justice, the stranger will be permitted an opportunity to speak in his own defense."


    After this, the High Counselor turned and addressed Arkin.


    "You may address the Council."


    Arkin took a moment to consider his next words. In spite of the High Counselor''s high sounding words about justice, he had the suspicion that his fate had already been decided. He wasn''t sure his speech would make any difference. On the other hand, there were a lot of people in this room. From his experience with the military on his own world, he knew that there may well be some here who opposed the High Counselor, or disagreed with his policies. He decided to pitch his defense to them. Perhaps if he was convincing enough, he might find an ally among them


    "Most honored members of the Council," he began with a bow. "I am sure that you all have much important business that requires your attention, so I will be brief and come straight to the point."


    Arkin hoped a little implied flattery might help his cause. It had been his experience that those in positions of authority liked to feel that their responsibilities were the most important of all, and society would quickly fall apart without them.


    "I am indeed a stranger to your fair city. I have come from a place that is difficult to describe..."


    Arkin stopped for a moment. He''d almost continued with "in terms that you would understand," but then he''d realized that in this venue, that phrase might be mistaken for an insult.


    "...I fear I lack the necessary ability to express ideas with words."


    There, that should help. Humility might be useful in addressing an audience of proud officials.


    "Suffice it to say, that it is nothing like your fair city, and cannot compare to its beauty. I wish I could tell you how I came to be here, but I can not. Nor can I explain in a meaningful way where I came from. I just know that one moment I was..."


    Arkin stopped again. He''d almost made another mistake. He''d started to say "fleeing in my friend''s starship". That was just what he needed to do. Give them a reason to presume him guilty. He wasn''t yet prepared to answer questions about what had driven him to flee from his own home.


    "...flying near GraySpace in my starship, trying to stay well clear of our enemies the Lumerians, and the next I found myself outside your city."


    Not exactly the truth, but these people obviously knew so little about technology that even if he told the whole truth, they wouldn''t understand enough of what he said that it would make any difference.


    "Since I arrived, I have been treated well, and for that I am grateful. My greatest desire is merely that I be returned to my home. Since arriving here, I have heard a rumor of something called the "Gray Curtain". This sounds very much like GraySpace. Perhaps if I were taken there, I might be able to decipher the mystery of my appearance here, and find a way to return home."


    "I throw myself at your mercy, trusting that your wisdom in these matters will provide me with the answers I seek."


    Arkin stopped speaking and bowed slightly to the High Counselor to indicate that he was finished. The High Counselor nodded almost imperceptibly in return, and stood up to address the council.


    "Do not allow yourselves to be swayed by flattery and a smooth tongue. The Newmer you see standing before you comes to us under unusual circumstances with tales of strange worlds and mythical enemies. His words call into question the fundamental truths that support our society. The very nature of his arrival provides the uneducated populace of our city with an excuse to accept whatever explanation is provided. Worse, if the people refuse to accept the explanations he offers, they might be tempted to make up their own. Heresies could flourish and abound. The consequences of this cannot be predicted. We must put this Newmer''s lies to rest, and do it in such a way that all will be satisfied, and none will be tempted to think on it further. Only in this way can we guarantee the security of our city."


    "After much grave deliberation in this matter, I have come to a difficult conclusion. This man is obviously an agent of some malevolent force, sent to sow discord among us. His claims of innocence cannot be supported by the facts surrounding his appearance in our city. He must be dealt with swiftly and without mercy in order that others who wish us ill might know that if they act against us, they do so at their own peril. It is my decision that tomorrow at High Sun, this Newmer be hung in a public execution for crimes against society."


    Arkin was shocked by this pronouncement. He''d expected distrust from these people, but nothing like this. After a moment, he had enough presence of mind to realize that he had an opportunity here. If as he suspected there were members of the council who did not support the High Counselor wholeheartedly, now was the time when their real feelings might be visible. He quickly scanned the sea of faces for evidence to support his hypothesis. He was disappointed when he saw none. It seemed that he was doomed. His situation reminded him of an old phrase that his grandmother had once used.


    "Out of the frying pan, into the fire," she used to say. That was exactly how he felt.


    As he was considering once more the irony of his situation, two guards appeared and motioned for him to follow them. He briefly considered attempting to make a run for freedom, but thought better of it almost immediately. Where would he go? He knew no one in this world. He considered drawing his firearm and demanding his freedom, but these people probably wouldn''t be much impressed by that. It was apparent that this place had never developed any weapons based on advanced technology. He wondered if that was because the laws of physics were somehow different here. He''d looked for any kind of manifestations of energy similar to what he''d grown accustomed to on his space station, but so far Arkin had not seen anything that would make him think his weapon would work here.


    The guards here had always been content to let him keep his firearm, and these two were no exception. He allowed them to escort him out without protest. They led him out a different door than the one through which he''d entered. He followed them down a long corridor to an area he had not seen before. Eventually, the guards led him through a kitchen to a small doorway. They motioned for him to go through first, and he discovered a downward flight of stairs on the other side. At the bottom, there was a row of small cells, not unlike the brig on his star base. The guards took him to the end of the row and opened up the cell there for him. When he stepped inside, they locked the cell behind him and disappeared back up the flight of stairs without a word.


    It was very dark, but after a moment, Arkin began to make out shapes in the dim light that filtered through a small slit high up in the ceiling. He could see a small bench against the wall that looked like it might be intended for a bed. He waited anxiously for several hours for an interrogation that never came. Eventually, when the light from the ceiling faded to darkness, he allowed himself to feel some relief. Apparently, there were some differences between this world and his world after all. It seemed that here, at least, they were not in the habit of interrogating their prisoners. He laid down on the bench and tried to sleep, hoping that he would not be awakened suddenly in the middle of the night, and wondering what new twists of fate the next day would bring.