The Bridge

Book III: The Starhell Mutiny

by euhal allen

Table of Contents
Chapter 2, part 2 appears
in this issue.

Chapter 2: Planning

part 3 of 3

* * *

The party that had celebrated her election to office had been much better than she had expected. She had met great numbers of very important people and had done her best to impress them with her wit and charm. From the number of invitations she had received since, she had been quite successful.

Even Kalvin had not been too much of a trial to her. He knew everybody, was very witty in his conversations, looked marvelous in his formal dress, and astounded all with his rendering of the second movement of the Requiem. Perhaps, now that she was no longer the Blue Planet’s et Sharma and he was no longer working on the Requiem there might be some advantage in counting him as one of her acquaintances.

Besides, he had been around the fake Katia and the traitorous Cyr quite a bit while getting material for the Requiem so, maybe he overheard things that would be to her advantage. Perhaps, with a little encouragement she might just convince him that it would be very kind to remember those things.

* * *

Kalvin Vertraumer was tired. Since the performance of the Requiem it seemed that he had been allowed no rest. All of his friends, and he had many — some he hardly knew — wanted him for one of their parties. And, also always, they expected him to play some part, even a small part would sometimes do, of the Requiem. He was beginning to wish he had never written the thing.

The only pleasant memory — very oddly — was the party for the new Minister from New Earth. Instead of being a sternly dressed pompous bore, she had been enchantingly dressed and charmingly witty all evening. He had found himself in her company often, introducing her to people that she wanted to meet, discussing music that, it turns out, she did know quite a bit about, and discussing the Requiem — she loved it for all the right reasons — all in all a great evening.

Perhaps she was, now that she no longer had to be an officious civil servant, not the enemy he had thought she was. And, now, he saw that the party invitation that he had in his hand was from “The Honorable Me’Avi Shapirov, Minister of New Earth,” and he found himself actually looking forward to this event.

* * *

The warning came from Jo’Eya. It came unexpectedly, and Cyr and Katia found themselves not only stunned but, for a while, at a loss for a solution. How does one short-circuit the work of Cupid?

Jo’Eya sat in the control room of Alexis Pride, and waited for some reaction, other than shock, from Cyr and Katia. Finally it came.

“Are you sure?” Cyr asked. “This is not just another of those rumors that find their way around the capital, encouraged by all the old gossips that revel in such things?”

Grimacing, Jo’Eya said, “There is little doubt of the final outcome. They have been thrown together in a great many parties and have found themselves often paired by their mutual friends. It has now become the norm to invite both to any party or event that happens.

“However, if that was all that was happening we would pass it off as rumor. But, now, they have been seen at a number of night spots alone. And, the Maestro has turned down a number of very prestigious performances to spend time with the Minister from New Earth. There is no doubt as to their mutual affection, although some have said, quietly, that she may not like him as much as her actions indicate.”

“You mean,” said Katia, “that she might be using him for some advantage to her politically. I could almost believe that even if she is my granddaughter.

“Well, what are we going to do about it? If Kalvin spills what he knows about Starhell, we will be forced to accelerate the schedule even more. We have to be ready for them when they discover us. We have tried to plan it all out with most negative inputs to guide us. That gave us a minimum of fifty years before the Galactic Council exploratory ships could discover us.

“If Kalvin tells them about us they will start a directed search for us and we will be fortunate if we have ten years.”

“It would seem to me,” said Cyr, “that we may already have an answer. That is, if it can be made feasible. I hate to put it forth, though, for reasons that will be obvious.”

Both Katia and Jo’Eya looked toward the control column and asked, almost simultaneously, “Cyr, what answer are you talking about.”

“When Kalvin was here, getting the information he needed to see that those people he had been watching were going to have a hope and not going to be tossed aside, what did he see?”

“That, Cyr,” replied Katia, “is what we are worried about. He saw everything. We gave him a really grand tour and he took lots of notes.”

“Yes,” replied Cyr, “he saw everything. We did not hold anything back. So he has a rather complete picture of what we have, what we are doing, and what the future plans were when he was here.

“But there are two things he doesn’t know, and they are that he doesn’t know where we are; and he is sure of one other thing, although he doesn’t know it right now. That sureness could, if we handle this right, protect us.”

Jo’Eya then spoke, “Cyr, I’m afraid that you are not doing well in communicating with us right now. The fact that he does not know the location of Starhell is a protection, indeed, but he does know the sun type and the planet’s position near that sun, and the basic geography of the planet. We showed him all that. We answered all his questions about that. What is this other thing that you are talking about?”

“If Kalvin weakens and does reveal the fact of Starhell, and the facts about Starhell he not only will not know where we are but he will be very certain, especially if a certain Minister from a friendly planet asks, that we have no moon.”

Katia broke out in laughter, “Oh Cyr, you’re right. Now we have to have a moon. And now, there will be no living with Charlie Philips.”

* * *

George, Charlie’s engineer friend, soon got the word that his little sideline project to build a moon was no longer sideline. Then it was made plain to him that he had to find a way to not only make the moon, but to make it and finish it within two years. If he had to, he could use Galactic technology, but that had to be used as sparingly as possible. He and a few other engineers met in his office to brainstorm.

Charlie came around as soon as he heard and offered to help with whatever he could, since, as he said, he did feel a little responsible for the idea.

George, being one of those engineers that liked to talk ideas out in groups, and knowing that a negative invitation would not compute, told Charlie to sit down and join in occasionally, but asked him to try to keep his ideas in the realm of the possible.

That being said, the brainstorming session began again in earnest. There were charts of the Starhell system that showed those asteroids in the Oort cloud and the inner system that had been identified as possible contributions to the planned moon.

Those charts listed the distances, speeds and time needed to deliver those asteroids to the decided orbit around Starhell. The problem was that no matter how they worked it, the material for the moon could not be delivered to the right points in the allotted time. It was not a matter of technology, it was a matter of physics.

For once, to the engineers’ gratitude, Charlie just listened while they argued about the details of just what was possible. Finally he just said, “Why don’t you use them doors?”

George, one of three engineers in the Shapirov Project who even knew of the technical specifications of the Doors, harrumphed and tried to steer Charlie in another direction, while Charlie talked on about how when he had been brought to Starhell he had never seen any ship but had just, sort of, walked through this door and was here.

He had talked to some others, like the people of that Russian village. They too had just come through a door. So why couldn’t they just open one of those Doors and bring them big rocks right to where they wanted them?

Finally George got Charlie to quiet down by putting his hand over Charlie’s mouth and saying very plainly, “Charlie, the Doors won’t handle that level of mass. These are very big objects and very massive. We have Doors that just barely handle a ship efficiently. You’re talking about something more massive than a hundred ships.”

Charlie shut up and started to listen again to the engineers discussed the problems over again, with the same answers coming out no matter how they worked the numbers. Then, when he could stand it no longer, he just blurted out, “Then why don’t you just make bigger Doors?”

That was when Charlie was picked up, bodily, and deposited outside George’s closed office doors.

* * *

Natasha Borisovna, in her office working on still more paperwork, coordinating the efforts and activities of the many diverse groups on Starhell, found herself quite often humming the old songs. It had become a habit that she found she enjoyed.

On this day, though, somehow humming did not seem enough and she, without really realizing it, began to sing them aloud, he voice shimmering and echoing throughout the outer office in the Administrator’s office suite.

In the Administrator’s office, Hi Tinker’s face reddened a little as his wife’s voice came through even his office door. Katia and Cyr were with him discussing some of the greatest needs of the populous and, with the old songs being sung outside the door, the discussion halted.

Hi, standing and heading for the door, said, “She does that every once in awhile. She just bursts out with those old songs. She doesn’t mean any harm. I’ll get her to stop.”

Katia, astounded at the clarity and purity of the voice, clearer now as Hi opened the door, said, “Don’t you dare tell her to stop. Her voice is beautiful. Those songs have not been sung so well since Grand Minister Shapirov died. When she finishes this one song ask her to come in here.”

The Administrator, bowing to Katia’s wishes, waited until his wife finished her song and then, with beckoning finger, directed the now red-faced Natasha Borisovna into the inner office.

“I am so sorry,” Natasha began, “I didn’t realize that I was disturbing...”

“Nonsense, Natasha,” interrupted Katia, “your singing was lovely and we enjoyed it very much. In fact, we enjoyed it so much we want to talk to you about it, if that is okay.”

“Talk to me about it?” replied Natasha, “I don’t understand.”

“You have quite a beautiful voice, my dear,” said Cyr.

“And more importantly, you know how to sing those songs in the right way. You emphasize in the right spots and you make the songs live. That is a very rare quality. How would you like to be the Dream Singer?”

Taken back, Natasha whispered, “But I can’t — I mean, you’re the Dream Singer. You’re Katia. No one can be the Dream Singer but you.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” answered Katia, “I am Katia in a computer. I no longer have flesh to feel things. I no longer have a heart to love things. I no longer have vocal chords to sing with. What I have you can get with any good audio equipment.

“To really be the Dream Singer you must have life and breath and voice. You must know and love the songs and be able to use your whole being to make them live. And, that is what we heard coming from you just now.

“No, Natasha Borisovna, we are in tremulous times. A flesh and blood Dream Singer is needed. You are needed.

“Tomorrow you will meet with me in the concert hall and I will coach you a little; I will tell you the story behind each of those songs; and next month, on the Day of Singing, the people will not have a holograph on stage playing recordings, they will have a real person on the stage singing with all her heart. They deserve no less.”

Somehow, Natasha Borisovna knew in her heart that all Katia had said was true. More than that, she knew that, more than anything, she wanted the dream that Katia had just spoken to her to happen. To be the Dream Singer, a thing that she had never before thought of, now became her life.

* * *

The music was soft and the lights were low in the corner table at the café they had chosen to dine at that night. It had become one of their favorites, not only for the food and the atmosphere, but because, their of all places in the capitol city, here they were left alone.

Me’Avi’s eyes sparkled in the low lights and Kalvin was lost in them, and felt wonderful because of it. They had talked of so many things over the time they had been seeing each other and it now seemed to Kalvin that being together was like breathing, something that sustained life and energy; something that made life what it should be.

Me’Avi was talking about when she was a little girl and she had met the real Katia Shapirov, her real grandmother. “Her eyes were so deep. I’m not sure how I can remember that, but I do. It is her eyes that I remember best. And then her voice.

“I would like to say it was her face but I am not sure that I really remember her face. Being her granddaughter, the granddaughter of the Grand Minister, her face was all around me in pictures anyway. And then when she died in that accident, her face was everywhere again. So I don’t really know if I remember her face or just the pictures.

“But her eyes and her voice. Those I do remember. I was looking into her eyes when she was trying to tell me that my parents had been killed in that nova. They were tearing up and her voice, it was soft, kind, and very sad. She had just been told that she had lost her children and now she was trying to help me handle the very same grief she was feeling.”

Kalvin took her hands in his and softly said, “It must have been so terrible. Then to find out that they had not died after all must have been such a terrible shock.”

“No,” she replied, “the shock was in knowing that they faked that death and left me so that they could help those people on the Blue Planet. They loved those people more than they loved their own daughter. The shock was that my parents chose a world of barbarians over their own daughter.”

Kalvin, wishing he could heal the pain in Me’Avi’s heart, squeezed her hands just a little and told her that she never need be lonely again. “I would never choose anything — not even my music, and you know how much that means to me — anything over you, my lovely Me’Avi.”

“Thank you, Kalvin. You have become important to me too. I have so enjoyed our evenings out. Especially when you bring me here. It helps me forget those last days at the Blue Planet. Those horrid days before we escaped, before I was able to shut that system off from the galaxy. I am just glad that they are gone now and we will never have to deal with them again.

“What is the matter, Kalvin. You look like you saw a ghost? Are you sorry for those people? Are you about to take their side?”

“No, no, I would never take their side against you. I can see now that you really were right in cutting them off. It is just that I, never being involved with such decisions; always immersing my life in music, don’t really understand such things like you do.

“In a way I find myself wishing that they could be given more chances. That they could succeed in their plans. That...”

“Kalvin,” she inquired, “what are you saying, ‘That they could succeed in their plans?’ What do you know about any plans they had? Tell me, Kalvin.”

“Me’Avi, I promised never... I don’t know what I should do.”

“Kalvin, if you love me as you say you do you will tell me. A person who loves another does not hide thing from them. Tell me their plans or tell me good-bye.”

“Me’Avi, I can’t,” Kalvin was saying when his heart, recognizing the threat it had just heard, took over, “They have another world, one called Starhell. I have been there. I have seen it. They already have a large number of people on it.”

To be continued...

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