The BridgeBook IV: To Qwell the Tideby euhal allen |
Table of Contents Chapter 4, part 2 appears in this issue. |
Chapter 4: Surprise, Surprisepart 3 of 3 |
* * *
The whole of the Galactic Council was in shock. The very thought of being able to move a planet was beyond them. The fright that began to fill their minds became numbing, and seeing that the Grand Minister had been right again, they began to petition him for solutions to the problems that they faced in dealing with this new power in the galaxy.
The Grand Minister, now no longer hated but awed, made his way to the Council chamber’s podium and simply said, “Don’t worry. There is no need to worry, for two reasons:
“The first is that in all the dealings we have had with the so-called Starhell Mutiny not once have we been attacked or molested. People with the kind of power they showed would have no reason to fear us if they had decided to attack us.
“And the second is, we have received communication from Earth’s system commending us on the Fleet’s peaceful intents and accepting our invitation to join us as full members of the Galactic Council. Their representative will be contacting us in very short order.”
With that announcement over the Grand Minister made his way out of the chamber, with the Minister from New Earth following him, and back to his office. There he sat in his chair and let his breath out and did his best to relax.
Me’Avi, also in the office, spoke, “You’re not telling it all, Kran. You were hiding something from the Council. Don’t hide it from me. What is it?”
“They want you.”
“They want me? So they can punish me for activating the englobing shell? Oh, that’s wonderful, Kran. They will join the Galactic Council if I will become their punching bag...”
“No, Me’Avi, that is not what they want with you.”
“Kran, are you going to tell me or am I going to have to choke it out of you?”
“I am not sure how to tell you this. I guess I could just say it. The Solar Union (that’s what they call their governing entity) wants you to be its representative to the Galactic Council.”
“What! Me? What’s the catch?”
“It seems that your name, Shapirov, has meaning in many places, not just in the Council chambers. They want you to represent them in the Council. They have no objection to your continuing to represent New Earth. They said that you’re all human anyway so that doesn’t matter. But they were adamant that you be their representative. They meant it, Me’Avi.”
“Yes, Kran, we do mean it. Hello, Me’Avi.”
Ka’Tia, and her companion, walked across the room and stopped in front of the Grand Minister’s desk. “It is good to see you again, Kran. I have fond memories of our many conversations.
“Mr. Grand Minister Xhelsher, may I introduce Rondol da Laich, First Head of the Family Heads of the Qwell’Na and Secretary to the Diet of the Tunnel Worlds.”
“So, Katia — I may call you Katia, may I not? — that is what they call themselves?”
“Yes, Kran, that is the designation of their government. And you may not call me Katia. I am Qwell’Na now, and my name is Ka’Tia.”
The Grand Minister nodded in assent to Ka’Tia and turned to the Secretary of the Diet and asked, “To what do we owe this honor, Mr. Secretary?”
“You, and the lovely Minister from New Earth are invited to a special session of the Diet. It is time that you knew us. If you will just follow me.”
“And if I don’t wish to follow you?”
“You really don’t have any choice. This room has been fitted with a collapsible force field. You and the Minister are within that field. The field will soon collapse into the Door over there and you will find yourselves pushed through it. It is a very undignified manner for a Grand Minister of the Galactic Council to make an entrance, don’t you think?”
“I see,” answered Kran, “that you have acquired the art of making your case tactfully. A talent that I have always admired in others, especially Grand Minister Shapirov.”
With those words he turned to Me’Avi and, giving her his arm, said, “Shall we accompany these fine people, Madam Minister?”
* * *
Even Kran was astonished at the size of the room he entered. Across the room, high up on the wall was writing in several languages and scripts, some of which he recognized. Those he could read said the same thing, In a world of sand, glass can be made and To die in protecting the weak is to die with honor. He recognized them as two of his favorites from his purloined copy of the Qwom-Sor Manuals.
Then, hearing a voice he thought he recognized and turning to it, he saw that he and Me’Avi were not the only one of the Galactic Council in the great chamber. Within minutes he recognized a very large number of the Ministers of the Galactic Council as present. “They brought us all!” he thought. “They brought us all, every single one of us.”
Just at that moment Ka’Tia was at his side, taking his hand and leading him towards a small desk on the main floor. When he got there he saw that it was labeled, Kran Xhelsher, Grand Minister of the Galactic Council. All around him were more desks with the names and titles of all the Ministers of the Galactic Council. Me’Avi was then led up to the desk next to his.
Soon all the Ministers of the Council were seated in desks with their names on them. On the other side of the hall, similar desks were being filled by other beings, and in the center of the hall, on what was obviously the podium, the First Head of the Family Heads of the Qwell’Na took his place at the lectern and, touching something, seemed to be calling for order.
Silence settled quickly over the chamber and the First Head, or Secretary of the Diet, began to speak. “Today Ambassadors of the Tunnel Worlds and Council Ministers of the Galactic Council, is a day that has been a long time in coming. Today members of the two great governments of the galaxy meet face to face and are given the opportunity to chart a new future that will be better for each.”
“To each of you, both Ambassadors and Ministers, we offer apologies for the hurried manner in which each of you were brought here. While it is, indeed, the time for the regular session of the Galactic Council, it is, as you can see, not the regular place for such sessions. And equally, while it is the regular place for the Diet of the Tunnel Worlds to meet, it most assuredly is not the scheduled time for such a session. So, it has been somewhat of a surprise for all of you.
“We welcome all of you, and we would like to ask the two leaders of the different legislative bodies to stand so that others can see that their leaders are here and where they are.
“You see to my left Grand Minister Xhelsher, in the first row, center of the desks allocated to the Galactic Council.
“Ambassador Prime Zsht’lina is opposite the Grand Minister also occupying the center desk of the first row of the desks allocated to the Tunnel Worlds’ Diet.
“For those of you who are wondering as to why you were brought here, the answer is simple. You are here to form a government that will, in whatever way you wish, unite those parts of the galaxy now ruled by the present two governments. That could mean a new government or a confederacy of the present governments, or a federal system, or even a monarchy, if that is what your peoples want.
“For your information, the media of both systems has been contacted and we are now working in a state of continual observation by any in the galaxy who wish to watch. Knowing this, we are sure that you will choose your words wisely. The process will be completed. No one here will be allowed to leave until it is. Now is the time to really represent the people of the galaxy and to extend to them a stable future.
“To ease things along it has been decided that the chief officer of each government will alternate each day, morning and afternoon, in chairing the sessions. Since both assemblies use the same basic legislatives process, — a gift from the Qwell’Na — that should not prove too much of a problem.
“So, in order to start the process; would the honorable Kran Xhelsher, Grand Minister of the Galactic Council come to the lectern and begin the proceedings to create this new governing body?
Stunned, the Grand Minister just sat for a few seconds. Then, realizing what was happening, and what could happen, and thinking about the power the galaxy had so recently witnessed — power he suspected controlled by the Qwell’Na — he got to his feet and walked slowly out onto the floor and mounted the steps to the podium and moved to the lectern.
“Assembled Ministers and Ambassadors... somehow that sounds wrong if we are going to do this job we have been so unexpectedly given. Perhaps... ‘delegates’ would be a better title.
“Assembled Delegates, from what I can see it would seem that someone has planned this little party extremely well. All of us seem to be here by surprise, and all of us have been given the same job: to create a stable, unified system of governance for both of our parts of the galaxy.
“Now that the fact of two systems is evident, at least newly evident to the Galactic Council, I agree with them. Being aware of each other makes it imperative that we be friends and fellow travelers. If we do not, we will be enemies. We must not be enemies.
“When I first entered this chamber I was angry at the impudence of another government in kidnapping us for any reason. Then I saw on the far wall sayings I have loved for years, ever since I managed to ‘find’ a Qwom-Sor Manual. In a world of sand, glass can be made.”
The stirring of approval among those Ambassadors from the Tunnel Worlds told the Grand Minister that in quoting the Manuals he was making points with them and so he continued.
“We here have the opportunity to blow up a sandstorm, or we can be glass makers. The sand is all around us. We are the sand. Let us look at our sand and see the glass.”
To the total surprise of the Ministers of the Galactic Council, the delegates on the other side of that hall rose as one person and each in his own way registered his approval of the words of the Grand Minister. And in that registering of approval, those of the Council saw that even though they did not understand all that the Grand Minister had referenced, he had again done his magic.
* * *
As scheduled, and all in mere nanoseconds, the great computer awoke from its sleep, and after checking the records of the passive sensors recorded, “Our star still sings not,” and returned to its dormant state.
* * *
Something stirred in Kalvin Shapirov’s very soul, and the music began playing in his head as it had never done before. Each day even as he watched the great debates from the Diet chambers at the Tunnel Worlds’ capitol and saw the excitement and drama of the great event he found himself transforming it into a musical score that grew and flourished in his hands. Soon, even as he was writing it, he was playing finished parts of it for others. Michael Fellini, his boy wonder, was in awe of it.
Those who heard it sought permission to put those parts finished into the media for the peoples of the galaxy. In a short while those parts were playing in conjunction with the rebroadcasts of significant moments in the debates and sessions in the Diet hall. Everywhere the music was used to help others understand the doings in that hall.
And the most beautiful part, revered immediately by those who heard it, the Me’Avi movement, spoke of Kalvin’s love for, and pride in, his wife in tones and phrases that touched every heart. And soon everyone was familiar with this woman who, though the granddaughter of the incomparable Ka’Tia, had her own feet to stand on and her own star to follow.
Part of the everywhere it went was the Diet hall itself. It gave those working on the project a new and grander perspective of what they were doing. It made them see that what they were doing was not just agreeing on words and phrases to be put down on some document, but was, instead, the building of an edifice to be used far into the future. And they strove to make that edifice as beautiful as the music it inspired.
* * *
Ka’Tia and Cyrnon, while working with various committees, were doing their best to find places in the background from which to operate, and not let their stature in the galaxy discourage others from contributing.
Neither of them thought themselves as either perfect or all-wise, and they did their best to encourage others to bring forth the ideas that they had. It was, then, with some relief that they received a request for the both of them to return to Qwell Major for a conference with the Heads of the Family.
“Ka’Tia... Cyrnon... We have called you here because you have done well and we would have you join us as Heads of the Family. Do you accept?”
Ka’Tia, knowing what Cyrnon would say, answered, “We accept and thank the Family Heads for this honor.”
“Your decision is good and your honor you have earned. Still, there are things you must learn. Things that each new Family Head learns as he becomes one of us. You will go to the Chamber of Remembrance and you will be given information to absorb and use. Only when you understand the secrets of our past will you understand the path we have chosen for our future.
“It is time. The Chamber is prepared. Go there. Stay there until you have seen all that is coming. Then come back to us and be one of us.”
Soon Ka’Tia and Cyrnon were descending into the depths of the basements below the Family home. In time they were shown into a room that contained two chairs and, other than the niches in the walls, nothing else. The door closed behind them and they were left alone.
The wall in front of the chairs began to glow softly and a voice spoke, “There are chairs in the room; sit please.”
Ka’Tia and Cyrnon sat. The wall grew brighter and they could see a world come into focus. The voice said, “This was our home, the home of the Qwell. It is here that our race found and lost its way. It is here that our pride and our shame found their beginnings.
“Listen and see well and you will know the heart of our people, you will know the secrets of the Qwell’Na.”
Ka’Tia and Cyrnon looked with different eyes. Ka’Tia’s eyes saw the grand exhilaration and then heartfelt anguish of the tale told them. She had the eyes of a woman, and the eyes of a Mother, and the eyes of a leader. All of them saw the story in somewhat different ways, but all of them understood from the heart.
Cyrnon was only beginning to form something that could be called a heart and so he saw with cyber eyes, and he learned of sadness in new ways as story of triumph and tragedy marched before him. And watched, as he had always done, Ka’Tia and saw the smiles and tears at things that happened and poured that knowledge into his memory banks so that he could, somehow, grow his heart a little faster. And as he has successes in growing a heart he began to wonder why one would want one, for the highs and the lows were almost more than his logical mind could bear.
To be continued...
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Copyright © 2005 by euhal allen
