Return Of The Fontalo
by Linda Rigsbee
Chapter 8
After three days had passed without finding the spaceship, and the spacecraft had drifted into a current that would take it to the shores of Libertad, it was time to make a decision. Libertad had a ship in the vicinity and wanted to investigate. Donte agreed. That was the day that Sima arrived.
When she entered his office, he stood and walked around his desk to greet her. He offered a palm and she accepted it, gripping his forearm in a quick greeting.
“Have a seat,” Donte said, indicating a chair. “What brings you to Bergen?”
She sat in the chair he indicated. “It took me a while to convince myself I should get involved. I feel like a gossip, but something needs to be done.”
Donte sat in the chair behind his desk. He could imagine how she felt. When she was president, she could simply do something about it. Now she had no control.
“I’ve never considered you to be a gossip.”
She gave him a wry smile. “No. Maybe only a home wrecker.” She waived a hand. “Regular channels don’t work in Lochfowk…” She shrugged. “Maybe they never did, but I can’t stand back and wait until things fall apart and then say I knew it would happen.”
Donte said nothing. She was building up to the problem and he didn’t want to interrupt.
She snapped her knuckles and stared at the desk. “When Commander Cadha notified Chait of the alert, he ignored it.”
Donte couldn’t say he was particularly surprised. It was yet another way that Chait displayed his arrogance and disregard for the people he represented, but as president, the response to the alert was his choice. Sima knew that, so there was no reason to bring it to her attention. As it turned out, the alert was premature, at best. He waited for her to continue.
She lifted her gaze to him. “The colonists are angry that he didn’t at least let them know. I realize it was his call, but they are again talking about removing him from office. Chait is preparing the militia to subdue a rebellion. The colonists are forming their own militia to protect themselves.”
It was pointless to ask how the council felt about Chait. He had selected the council members. The people had no say in Lochfowk. It was a democracy only on the surface. Still, Chait wasn’t the only guilty one. The people had voted him in knowing what he planned to do with the council. It had been Donte’s thought that they were going to go through the proper channels when he left Lochfowk.
“Has anyone filed the required paperwork to remove him from office?”
She nodded. “He burned it in front of them. That’s reason enough to remove him. The colonists have reason to be upset. He’s not giving them any choice but rebellion. I think he wants the excuse to get rid of his opponents.”
“Who would take his place if he was removed?”
“His vice president.”
“Would that be an improvement?”
She shrugged. “Probably not.”
Donte leaned his arms on the desk. “You realize that my power over the leaders is limited to defense against The Fontalo. This is an internal struggle.”
She frowned. “But this is part of The Prophesy – the colonists rising up against the Mascots. Isn’t that why they put you in the position of high command?
He shook his head. “No. The leaders didn’t agree that I could interfere with the way they run their colonies. They agreed to accept my direction in coordinating defense against The Fontalo only.”
“But you got involved in Nyumbani.”
“True, but I had the consent of Nyumbani. I got involved in Lochfowk when I talked to the colonists at Chait’s request, too. None of that was done while I was in high command.”
She looked exasperated. “You’re not going to do anything.”
“Do you think Chait would consent to my becoming involved in Lochfowk?”
“The colonists would.”
Donte smiled. “I’m sure they would – and Chait would consent if I intervened in his behalf. Nothing I have done so far has resulted in more than a temporary fix.”
“What’s the difference between Chait and Farasi?”
“Chait was elected by the people. Farasi was appointed king by The Fontalo. Farasi was insane.”
“Chait is corrupt.”
Donte nodded. “I agree. So, remove him.”
Sima stood, her face darkening with emotion. “He’s going to create a blood bath. Donica and Tavin could be involved. Doesn’t that bother you?”
Of course it bothered him. She knew that. She was desperate enough to seek his help, but he could do nothing to help Lochfowk. He leaned back in his chair. “What do you suggest I do?”
She scowled at him. “Believe me. You wouldn’t like the suggestion I would give you right now.” She turned and walked out of his office, slamming the door behind her.
Donte had to give her credit. She didn’t say he owed her. He did, but this wasn’t something he should be involved in.
The office door opened and Rianne cautiously walked in. She gave exaggerated care in closing the door quietly.
“What did you say to make her so angry?”
He grimaced. “I think it was more a case of what I didn’t say.”
She sat in the chair across from him. “So, tell me, what did she want?”
Rianne had a right to know. She was still holding the position of his second. On the other hand, Sima had intended their conversation to be private.
When he hesitated to answer, Rianne lifted a brow. “Please tell me she didn’t make a pass at you.”
He laughed. “I wish it was that simple. Right now, I think I’m probably the most unattractive male she has ever met.”
Rianne gave him a wry smile. “I wouldn’t say that. Why do you think she slammed the door?”
He shrugged. “She was frustrated because I refused to help her. She was right about the fact that I have the power. Still, I can’t use it like that.”
Rianne lifted a brow in silent request for more information.
He sighed and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk. “The Lochfowk colonists filed the paperwork to remove Chait and he burned it in front of them. Sima thinks a revolution is imminent.”
Rianne pursed her lips and blew air through them. He had never heard her actually whistle – only that escape of air. She studied the surface of the desk absently tracing her finger along a scrape. Finally, her gaze lifted to his.
“Would you mind if I talked to him?”
“Chait?”
She nodded.
“No, I don’t mind if you talk to him, but I object to you traveling to Lochfowk.”
Her brows lifted again. “Why? You went there a week ago.”
He smiled. “So, did you. Things were different then.”
She shrugged. “They were different for you, but not for me.”
He reached across the desk and captured her hand. “Things are different for all of us now since the spacecraft arrived. Don’t you remember how you felt when the children were here and you were away from them?”
“Of course, I remember, but this is different. You would be with the children.”
Donte patted her hand. “Things wouldn’t be different for me. I would feel the same way about you.” He sat back in his chair. “I don’t want the distraction. Right now, I’m waiting to see what Libertad discovers about the spacecraft.”
She sighed. “Well, it was a thought. Maybe I couldn’t have accomplished anything anyway.”
“I’m sure you would have more influence with him than I would.” He shook his head. “I wish I could help.”
Rianne tipped her head to the side and regarded him. “You have helped so many people. It seems that this new position has robbed you of that opportunity.”
He stared at her for a moment. She was right. The ruler of Bergen would have done something to help Sima. Donte would have done something to help Sima. Why was he suddenly powerless to help her?
“Rianne, could you do something for me?”
“Sure. What do you need?”
Could you find Sima and bring her back to my office? I have an idea.”
She smiled and stood. “I knew you’d think of something.” She walked to the door and paused with her hand on the knob. “We, Donte; we can do this. You’re not alone.”
He smiled at her, holding her gaze until she opened the door and turned away from him.
She was right. He was treating this as if it were his problem. The problem belonged to everyone. He was merely there to guide and protect. That was the purpose The Fontalo had in mind when they created the Mascots.
He tapped his medallion once. “This is Donte. Could you connect me with Commander Cadha?”
Moments later he had a connection.
“This is Commander Cadha. What do you need, Donte?”
“I’m addressing you as the Ruler of Bergen. It has come to my attention that Lochfowk is poised on the brink of a revolution. The colony has provided the paperwork to remove Chait from office, but he burned it in front of them and refuses to relinquish control.”
“Donte, you know we don’t get involved in internal struggles with colonies.”
“Yes, Nomi. I know that, but in this case the unrest could spill over into other colonies. Chait has organized his own militia to use against the colonists and the colonists have control of the official militia.”
“I see. What do you suggest I do?”
Donte laughed without humor. “I said the same thing today.”
“And you were right.”
“Maybe, but when someone comes to you and asks you to help them stop bloodshed, you owe them some degree of help.”
“It isn’t that I disagree with you, but it is…um…unconventional at best.”
Donte groaned. “I’m beginning to think I’m the king of unconventional.”
Cadha chuckled. “You won’t get an argument from me. Again, what do you suggest I do?”
“Can you request that Dalziel send infantry in to keep the peace?”
“Yes, I could, but so could you – Donte, Ruler of Bergen - in the interest of not letting this spill into other colonies. Dalziel is now linked into your land lines.”
“Then you have granted me permission to request that.”
“I have, and good luck – though I doubt you’ll need good luck. Dalziel is impressed with you.”
“Thank you. I’ll send him a message.”
Donte sent Dalziel a message, explaining the situation and requesting assistance. He pointedly signed it Donte, Ruler of Bergen. Hopefully he would have an answer by the time Rianne returned with Sima. He tapped his medallion and requested Beier. Moments later he was talking to Beier.
“Could you come to my office?”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes, Monomi.”
***
Kafil lifted the glass to his eye. From the deck of the Bahari they could see the spacecraft. There was no indication of life. The Libertad ship, Aislado, approached the spacecraft cautiously. Anchoring at a distance, they lowered a row boat to the surface and proceeded to the spacecraft.
Kafil would like to have boarded the spacecraft, but he didn’t have the service experience of the men who had been selected to do so. It had been over forty years since Quade and Kenyon had been in the service, but Quade had remained involved with the spaceship commanders. Kenyon had been a captive in Lochfowk for thirty years, but he had been active with Donte for the last decade.
Donte’s absence in this mission was puzzling. He had always been involved in everything, but since his position had been elevated to high command, his involvement had been limited to communications. As ruler of Bergen, it had been suggested that he let others do the field work. Kafil agreed with that theory, but Donte was highly successful in the field – more so than anyone he had ever known.
Kafil turned his communication medallion on. The men could be heard walking around inside the shuttle.
Donte’s voice interrupted the silence, speaking in the language of Nyumbani. “What is that noise…that beeping?”
For a moment the only sound was that of footsteps. Finally, a voice responded. “It looks like a homing device.”
Silence again…finally Quade’s voice. “Donte, this is Quade. The spacecraft is a shuttle, not much different than ours. No one is here, but the homing device has been activated.”
There was a rustling of paper before Donte responded. “Do you see an island?”
“I can’t see anything from here,” Quade responded.
Kafil could see a dot on the horizon. He looked at it with his eyeglass. It was an island. “I see it,” Kafil said, and gave the approximate location.
Everyone was silent for a moment, waiting to see what Donte was going to request. He obviously thought the occupants of the shuttle might be on that island. Finally, Donte spoke.
“Leave the homing device on, but tow the shuttle well out into the sea – out of the currents, and leave it there. Kafil, could you investigate that island? Don’t land, but see if there are any caves, smoke or any other indication that it is occupied.”
“Yes Monomi.”
“Be careful,” Donte added. “Stay out of firing range – and that includes lasers. Try to look like you are merely out there fishing.”
Quade’s voice interrupted. “What are you thinking, Donte?”
“I have an idea,” Donte responded. “I want to do some research and think about it before I act on it. What is the fuel level on the shuttle?”
After a few minutes Quade answered. “Low, but not empty.”
“Kafil,” Donte said. “Let me know what you find out about that island as soon as you know something.”
“Yes, Monomi.”
Kafil turned his communication medallion off and turned to the crew. “We’re going to travel an indirect route to that island, casting a net now and then.”
It was so like Donte to keep things to himself until he had it all figured out. Kafil had learned to listen to the things Donte didn’t say as much as the things he did say. Donte listened with his heart and gut as much as he did his ears. He thought of things from different perspectives and often revealed his thoughts to people in the perspective he thought they would best understand. He saw the unusual things and his requests often gave a clue to his direction. Donte’s question about the fuel level on the shuttle was a clue for Kafil. Most of Donte’s questions led back to one thing – the origin of that shuttle. More than likely his research was going to be how far a shuttle could travel on a full tank of fuel. The fact that the fuel level was low but not empty also probably indicated not only that it wasn’t a forced landing, but that it was likely a planned and precise landing. The occupants of the shuttle weren’t nearly as important to Donte as the purpose of its presence. Why would the occupants abandon the shuttle? Maybe the answer lay on that island.
***
Neirin listened to the conversation between Kafil, Quade and Donte on his medallion. Were the occupants of the spacecraft listening as well? The ground crew were all speaking in Nyumbani. Would The Fontalo know that language? All the Mascots had been left on Purlieu and the space ships. It had been forty years since they left. Would the same people return? Probably not. Donte was the only person he knew who could speak the old language – the language of Oriel. Niall did, but he was gone now. It was possible that Quade and Adriaan did, but the language hadn’t been used in the last forty years. Donte had shown the interest and taken the time to learn all the languages when he was in his teens. He didn’t know anything about The Prophesy at that time. Those things would have singled him out as the Anialwch Connection long before Celyn’s vision.
Celyn had exchanged vows with Kenyon. Neirin was still having trouble accepting that idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Kenyon. He did. Mostly it was the fact that, even though he realized his daughter was grown, she still seemed too young to be a mother. He wasn’t certain that she was as ready for that as Kenyon was, although Kenyon had not indicated any interest. Hopefully it would be a few years. Neirin wasn’t in any great rush to be a grandfather, either. The thing he liked best about the situation was that Kenyon appeared to be perfectly content staying at the Palace. Neither Kenyon nor Celyn had indicated what they planned to do in the future. Maybe they didn’t know. Kenyon seemed to be following Celyn’s lead at the moment. Neirin wanted Celyn to remain at the palace and they needed a good doctor. Kenyon was that. If it hadn’t been for Kenyon, Donte would have died – which made Kenyon part of The Prophesy, didn’t it? Certainly, Kenyon had been active with both Celyn and Donte.
Neirin’s attention was drawn back to the conversation on his medallion. Donte directed Quade to tow the shuttle further out in the sea. Why? His first thought was that the homing beacon would be shifted away from either colony, but why not simply shut it off?
Soft Science Fiction
