The Archer's Paradox - The Travis Fletcher Chronicles Read online

  As they neared the base, Travis could make out intricate geometric patterns picked out in silver and gold in the stones, which shimmered with lives of their own. Again, it struck him that he had seen these shapes before. This time the answer presented itself: he had seen similar carvings on the ruins in the dream Xnuk Ek’ had given him. He was starting to put two and two together and the answer was not filling him with confidence.

  At base of the structure Travis could see a number of entrances, but his guide steered him towards the stairway which, he was relieved to find, was made of the same material as the floors on the spaceship and the path through the gardens. As they stepped on, it grabbed their feet and propelled them upwards. From the top Travis had a commanding view of the surrounding city, but Wingu Kanzu did not give him chance for sightseeing as he was shepherded towards an underwhelming door to the structure on the top of the pyramid. It was, as Travis had surmised, squat, utilitarian, and made of the same stone as the rest of the structure. It was also covered in the same intricate geometric designs as the rest of the structure. Although the apex of the great pyramid was a fraction of the size of the base, the building was probably still nearly a hundred yards square and the height of a two story house. After the ride through the city of glass and up the colossal pyramid this was like being shoved through the service entrance of The Ritz.

  Behind the door was a small anteroom, the ceiling of which glowed pale yellow, like the sun, and lit the windowless room adequately, although Travis thought he would not like to do much reading. It was sparsely furnished with some very uncomfortable looking chairs. Not much sitting done here either, Travis thought to himself. He got the distinct feeling of being in a doctor’s waiting room or outside his headmaster’s office. There were small doors to the right and left and a pair of larger doors straight ahead, all made from the same polished stone and blended so well with the walls as to be almost invisible. It was through the door on the left that a severe looking male with the distinctive look of a Xi Scorpii C native appeared. He was much older than any of the aliens he had met so far, except the doctor, maybe late middle age. He wore his dark golden hair long and straight, shunning the gaudy styles Travis had seen on his way here. His silver eyes sparkled with life, but there was an age and depth to them that was accentuated by the lines that splayed out from the corners.

  He stopped in front of them and honoured them with a shallow, perfunctory bow. Wingu Kanzu returned a deep bow and indicated that Travis should follow, which he did but barely hid his irritation. The male raised an eyebrow at him when he rose. Shit! Check shields. He could have sworn he saw a twitch of a smile.

  “Wingu Kanzu,” Wingu Kanzu announced himself, “and The Original, Travis Fletcher of Sol 3, to be brought before The Council as requested.”

  The male nodded a response, turned on his heel and disappeared through the double doors. Travis strained to see beyond but failed.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  “We wait.” Wingu Kanzu replied evenly.

  “I seem to be doing that a lot.” Travis responded with more than a hint of sarcasm. Wingu Kanzu stoically ignored him, so Travis decided to explore, not that there was much to see; the room had no windows, no furniture, save the smattering of chairs, and no decorations except the runes on the walls. Travis examined one. The carving was perfect with no burrs, tool marks or irregularities, but it was the colouring that fascinated him; the shimmer effect was not, as he thought, a trick of the light, but each carving had gold or silver liquid with the consistence of mercury flowing round the channel, seemingly defying gravity as there was nothing to stop it running out of the channels and down the walls. He put out a tentative finger in curiosity, and then thought better of it. The last thing he wanted just now was to be the idiot that disrupted the decorations or got an electrical shock, or worse.

  The doors opened and the older male beckoned them forward. Travis’ heart suddenly started racing and he felt sweat beading up on his brow. He looked over at his guide and saw a look of consternation on his face.

  “Do as I.” he hissed and followed the usher through the door.

  The next room was not large. Considering the reverence that everyone gave this Council and their position on top of a half mile high pyramid, he was expecting an impressive chamber hung with banners and with dozens of flunkies bustling around. Once again he was disappointed. What he saw was a squarish room of highly polished stone, lit from a glowing ceiling, like the anteroom. It was large enough to accommodate a semicircle of five curved stone tables. Four of the tables had five Council members sat at each of them, all looking older than Travis’ grandparents, on high backed and highly uncomfortable looking chairs. They were dressed in plain, loose fitting robes with high collars which were decorated with delicate designs in gold and silver. The last table, to the right, had five unoccupied chairs. Casting his mind back to the conversation he had had with Niji No Tori, before that unhinged bitch had burst in and shot him, he deduced that each of the tables held representatives from each of the Xi Scorpii stars: the brown skin and rounded bodies of A, opal eyes, small noses, round faces and delicate frames of B, the glittering eyes, high foreheads and height of C and the ebony skin, wide flat noses and tall, muscular forms of D. Only the last table, presumably for Xi Scorpii E, was empty. It struck Travis that he had never met anyone who professed to be from that star and neither could he remember seeing anyone that did not fit the description of the other four.

  Wingu Kanzu bowed as low as was possible without falling over. Travis followed suit and received slight inclinations of the head in acknowledgement. These people obviously thought themselves way above everyone else, Travis thought to himself. He felt a light touch brush his mental shields, like someone tapping an eggshell with a fingernail; enough to annoy but not enough to break in. He cast about the assembled faces but he could not identify the culprit.

  “When will he be ready?” The male in the centre chair of the centre table asked, without preamble. “He does not appear to be permanently damaged by the incident, in fact, I detect activity above what you originally reported.” he did not look at Wingu Kanzu but eyed Travis intently whilst speaking. Travis took an instant dislike to the man, simply because he considered it rude not to look at the person you were addressing and there was an arrogance about him that put Travis on edge. It was not the same air that Xnuk Ek’ or even Wingu Kanzu had about them. This was more of an assumed superiority over everyone.

  Fucking politicians. Travis thought, making sure he was keeping his thoughts to himself.

  Wingu Kanzu appeared not to take offense and bowed low before replying. “He has had one treatment, as I reported and requires two more, according to the Ts’ats’aak that attended him. The second can begin in two days. It also appears that the attack has had unforeseen side effects.”

  “The Ts’ats’aak………” The Council Leader began.

  “Sundaravāda Ciṭṭe.” Wingu Kanzu finished.

  “Indeed.” The Council member acknowledged. “She is reliable?”

  “She is…difficult.” Wingu Kanzu admitted. “But she will do nothing to harm her patient, and that includes accelerating the treatment.”

  “Understandable. So when may we begin?”

  “Sixty days.”

  The one who spoke cast his gaze round the table and all the other members nodded their acceptance. “Acceptable. And the transgressor?”

  “Is being dealt with.”

  Again, nods from all the members. “Quarters and an escort have been assigned. You can get the details from the Aantah outside.” he made a dismissive gesture and turned to talk in low tones to the people to his right and left. Other Council members were also beginning hushed conversations. Wingu Kanzu made to leave, but Travis remained rooted to the spot with a look of thunder on his face.

  “Is that it?” he growled through clenched teeth. Wingu Kanzu spun back to face Travis, aghast. “Is that it?” Travis repeated, fixing who he assumed to be the leade
r with an icy stare. Wingu Kanzu opened his mouth to speak, but the Council Leader waved him down and returned Travis’ stare without saying anything. Wingu Kanzu took a couple of steps sideways, putting some physical distance between them. Travis’ temper flared. “What am I? Fucking chopped liver? Just who the fuck do you think you are?” he exploded. “I’m standing here, right in front of you and you haven’t even got the common decency to say hello.” Wingu Kanzu’s features turned from midnight black to ashen grey, as most of the colour had drained from his face and he looked as if he was about to expire, but Travis was on a roll. “You ASKED me to come here! You even sent a fucking huge spaceship to find me and bring me here. I am supposed to be the saviour of your race and you don’t even ask how I am!” Travis was screaming now and gesticulating wildly at the assembled council. “I’ve been…” His next tirade was cut short as he gasped for air. Clutching his throat he fell to his knees, his face turning red, then purple, as his eyes bulged from their sockets. Just before unconsciousness enveloped him, the invisible force that held him relaxed and he collapsed sideways to the cold stone floor gasping for air. He felt hands pulling him to his feet and backwards to the door but he shook them off and wavered unsteadily but unbowed. “Nice trick.” he said hoarsely, pausing to cough. “But I am going to take a chance and tell you to shove it.” he punctuated his statement with an obscene gesture before collapsing to the floor in another fit of asphyxia. Again he was released just before unconsciousness and dragged to his feet again by unseen hands.

  “I trust you have learned a valuable lesson.” The Council Leader intoned, leaning forward over the stone table and fixing him with an icy stare.

  “Not…even…started.” Travis retorted between fits of coughing, and raised a two finger salute. His mental shield had disintegrated, so Travis’ unbridled contempt was on full display. “I’ve always had a reputation for being a stubborn bastard and you’ve really pissed me off. I think you need my pink little body alive, or you wouldn’t have gone to all the bother of putting me back together again, am I right?”

  “Not your body, just your brain.” The Council Leader admitted, with a dangerous edge to his voice.

  “So when he,” Travis jerked his thumb towards Wingu Kanzu, “told me that a simple operation to take a sample from me would save your race and neglected to mention that it meant cutting open my brain, did he lie to me?” Travis saw Wingu Kanzu’s expression change, as he had seen Xnuk Ek’’s previously, so he charged on before he could react. “Or was he only repeating what he was told by you?”

  Wingu Kanzu relaxed a little, but the Council members looked at each other in consternation. “Do you question our honour?” the leader asked.

  Travis had been here before, but this time he had the whip hand. “Does it need questioning?” he countered. He had no intention of questioning anyone’s honour directly, he had learned that lesson very quickly, but he was dammed if he was going to be shuffled about like some sort of commodity. The Council looked from one to another purposefully as if multiple silent conversations were going on, occasionally looking at Wingu Kanzu as if asking questions.

  Finally the leader spoke again.

  “Bringing only your body would not have sufficed, as the material we need would have perished in transit, even in stasis. Also, Wingu Kanzu spoke the truth; a simple operation would have rendered the material we need. However, as you have heard, the attack by Xnuk Ek’ has had unforeseen side effects.”

  “And these are?” Travis interrupted.

  “The charge from the weapon has affected dormant portions of your brain from where we would have harvested the material.”

  “Which means?” Travis asked, insolently. He was heartily sick of half stories.

  “Which means that operating now would not only kill you but render the sample useless.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “We must wait until your Ts’ats’aak has completed her treatments and you are sufficiently recovered so you will survive the procedure. Until then you will be a guest of the city.”

  “Guest?” Travis asked sceptically. “By ‘guest’ do you mean spending the next two months locked in a room, like I did for most of the trip here? And what happens after that?”

  “You are not a prisoner.” the Council Leader stated simply, but it did not make Travis feel any better. “You may travel freely about the city, but we insist that you have a guide. Agreed?” Travis contemplated this and nodded his acceptance. “We will discuss your future after we have what we require.” Travis made to interject but the Council Leader raised his hand and Travis felt a pressure stopping him from speaking; not as forceful as before, but still effective. “We will discuss whether you will remain among us or return home.” Travis could have sworn he saw a faint smile cross the Council Leader’s lips as he finished.

  He allowed Wingu Kanzu to manoeuvre him from the main chamber and back into the ante room where the aged Aantah gave his guide some detailed instructions. Travis only gave the conversation half an ear while he pondered the Council Leader’s parting comment. The statement could have a number of meanings, and in this culture governed rigidly by truth and honour it was far too ambiguous to take at face value. He was sure he caught an undertone from the Council Leader, but his senses were still too immature for him to be sure. On Earth he seemed to be able to predict other people’s actions and reactions by instinct alone, but his instincts were failing him repeatedly here. Witness his altercation with Xnuk Ek’ for starters. Should have seen that coming a mile off! He thought to himself, fingering the scar under his ship suit absentmindedly. Good call, he congratulated himself grimly for insisting the doctor leave him a reminder of his error in judgement.

  He was still pondering the nuances of meaning when Wingu Kanzu brought him back into the present. “You have been assigned quarters and a guide for the duration of your stay.”

  Travis ears pricked up. “Anyone I know?” he asked hopefully.

  “Your guide has been assigned by The Council so it is unlikely to be anyone you are already acquainted with.” he replied in an offhand manner.

  Travis was not surprised, but still disappointed. “As long as they’re more sociable than that dickhead you gave me last time. Wingu Kanzu allowed himself a small smile and gave Travis a slight nod before leading his charge back outside.

  Chapter 10

  As the chamber door closed behind The Original, Travis Fletcher and Wingu Kanzu, K'an Aayin cast his senses slowly round the assembled members. As was mandated during Council sessions they all left their minds open for examination, although, anything more than a cursory scan without an invitation was considered intrusive; just enough to pick up emotions and their foremost thoughts. When The Council was first formed after The Fall there was still a great deal of animosity between the survivors. There was little wonder considering the extent of the genocide that had gone before. It was decreed therefore that mind shields should be down in an effort to promote trust between members. Any member who did not conform was ejected and a new member selected from that star. Similarly if any member betrayed that trust without good cause then the consequences were swift and final. The strategy had worked well for thousands of years, even if there were a few stumbles along the way, especially at the beginning. Most wounds had been healed and alliances remade, but there was still an undertow of distrust, especially between the older generations, even after all this time. The almost complete self-annihilation of the most advanced and influential race in the known galaxy, including the complete destruction of two inhabited worlds still leaves scars that will never completely heal. Of the four remaining Xi Scorpii worlds, only one had a chance of supporting life again without intervention, and that would only happen if they could secure a cure for their creeping sterility.

  Old ghosts, it seemed, had returned to haunt them again K'an Aayin thought to himself, in the form of Travis Fletcher and…his gaze rested on the five empty chairs at the end of the semi-circle. The final table had
always remained available for the Xi Scorpii E members to take their seats although they never had; some wounds run too deep. In fact the survivors of Éðel, the Xi Scorpii E home world, had never been heard from since The Fall, until now. It seemed too much of a coincidence that their absent kin had chosen to reappear not long after the acquisition of Travis Fletcher had been confirmed. It was not too much of a leap to deduce that they had been under scrutiny for all this time from the shadows, possibly from a traitor or traitors within. He felt his stomach knotting and he picked up overtones of disquiet from the other delegates too.