Olan Thorensen - Cast Under an Alien Sun

“Ah, our redoubtable Major Nertof. It seems unlikely the Buldorians would take them home to Buldor, so I surmise our liaison men came to an unfortunate end.”

“That would be my guess,” agreed Kalcan. “Too bad the Empire loses such a capable and well-connected officer.”

Both men smiled. Nertof was from an important Narthani family but had been considered incompetent by superiors in his previous and current assignments. Only his family connections had protected him. Even worse than his incompetence was his delusion of his own superiority and resentment at not having advanced faster.

“What an unfortunate coincidence the Buldorians ran for home on the first mission Major Nertof served as liaison,” Kalcan commented, with a raised eyebrow and tweak to his lips.

“Yes, a tragedy. I’ll write a report extolling the major and his contributions to the mission. He’ll be remembered as having fallen in service to the Empire.”

“Naturally, we’ll want to exact revenge against the Buldorians,” Kalcan said cryptically.

“Naturally. And you’re already looking for their ships. Unfortunately, the ocean is wide, and our mission here takes priority. We’ll give assurances we’re on the lookout for these particular Buldorians.”

Kalcan smiled and nodded. Without words, the communication was clear: they were well rid of Nertof and his two junior officers and would think no more about them.

That point settled, Akuyun sat at his desk and motioned for Kalcan to seat himself. “Now, I assume the navy is ready to take the Buldorians’ place in future raids and to support our direct ground operations?”

Boyerman Vorwich had used the Clengoth/Caernford semaphore line to relay raid updates to Hetman Keelan as fast as details were known. Even the fastest semaphore station crews could only transmit the equivalent of six complete pages of text a day. As a consequence, for two days, the limited capacity of the semaphore line was preempted from more routine communications, including news of friends and relatives. The commandeering of the semaphore lines from Caernford to the rest of Caedellium lasted an entire sixday with messages among the clan hetmen.

“The reports from St. Sidryn’s are thorough, but I want firsthand accounts,” Culich said to Kennrick and Vortig. “Let’s get Abbot Beynom and Vegga here as soon as possible.” Thus, three days later Denes Vegga and Sistian Beynom, accompanied by Boyerman Vorwich, answered the summons to Caernford and spent an entire day with their hetman, along with Kennrick and Luwis, going over the events in excruciating detail. Denes then returned to Abersford, while Sistian remained for more discussions, one topic of which was Yozef Kolsko.

“The new knowledge he’s given us is already amazing, but he’ll often say something without realizing the impact. For example, when we first talked about the lack of poppy extract, I explained that poppies only grew under conditions found in Eastern Landolin. He stated there was no reason they couldn’t be grown anywhere by making the right conditions inside an enclosed area. He called it a ‘greenhouse,’ a small building with windows all around the sides and roof so the sunlight can get in. The light passes through glass to allow plants to grow. It also warms the inside of the structure. The warmth can escape out through the glass in the other direction, but as he describes it, the energy of the sun passing in is more than the warmth that passes out. By adjusting various factors, it should be possible to grow the plants to produce opiates here on Caedellium, if we obtained plants or seeds.”

“Do you believe these greenhouses would work as he claims?” asked Culich.

“It’s one of those things that just sounds right when you hear Yozef’s explanation. Combined with the success of some of his other ideas, I’m inclined to think it would work.”

“Then there’s the problem of getting plants or seeds from Landolin,” said Culich. “They impose the death penalty on anyone trying to smuggle out any plants or seeds.”

The abbot nodded. “There is that. However, I’m sure a hetman of your influence, ingenuity, and wealth could find ways around such annoyances.”

“Hah!” barked Culich. “Flattery will get you nowhere. I’m shocked, absolutely shocked that an abbot of your stature could conceive of such nefarious deeds.”

The two gray-bearded men shared a laugh. They had grown up together as boys in Caernford. Although the abbot had moved to different positions over the years, they remained friends, exchanged regular letters, and met whenever the opportunity lent itself.

“Pardon my saying so, Sistian, but this stranger of yours sounds too good to be true. If this keeps up, there are going to be fears he’s either a demon familiar or belief he’s an archangel sent from God to deliver Caedellium.”

The abbot sat back in his chair and sighed. “Don’t think I haven’t thought long and hard about those very points, Culich. I must admit to being leery of all of this at first. The Word warns us the Evil One can tempt in ways that seduce us into believing our actions are meant for good.” He paused. “However, I’ve observed Yozef for almost two years now, and several other brothers and sisters have discussed him with me. We all agree we detect no evil in the man. Not that I’m sure he’s told us the entire story of how he got to Caedellium. As for being an archangel, I think I can rule that out. He’s quite human.”

“Well, then,” said Culich, “if he’s not a demon familiar or some agent of the Evil One, and he’s not an archangel, what is he? A spy or an agent of the Narthani or some other power outside of Caedellium?”

“I don’t see how the knowledge he’s already passed to us would help any agency with designs toward Caedellium. I think his basic story is true, that he’s from a distant land that has knowledge that has not reached Caedellium. That he was a student still involved in his studies. That he was taken from his land against his will, perhaps in a manner he doesn’t fully understand. That he had a long bout of both loneliness and some despair when he arrived here, since he believes he’ll never see his home again, and that he harbors no animosity toward us. In fact, I believe he feels an obligation to us for the help we gave him. I also believe he’s accepted whatever fate brought him to Caedellium and has become a real member of the Abersford community. Having said all that, I also believe he knows more about how he got here than he’s told us.”

“How should we view this reticence to reveal all?”

“With a degree of caution, but still make use of what he knows. While I can’t be certain what he doesn’t tell us could be harmful, my sense is that what he’s not telling us is more personal, perhaps something about himself he doesn’t want to share. If so, it likely doesn’t pose a threat.”

Culich was thoughtful. “Knowing you as long as I have, I expect you have some recommendations for me.”

Sistian smiled. “Of course, my Hetman.”

“And those are . . . ?”

“I recommend you meet him yourself. I’ve given you my impressions, but yours would be from a different perspective. You’ve dealt with different ranges of human interactions than I have, at least from the political standpoint. I’m interested in your assessment of him. That’s one recommendation. Second is that while these pieces of knowledge he drops on us are giving us extraordinary advances in medicine, trades, and agriculture, I also wonder whether it might apply to other areas, perhaps even military.”

Culich’s eyebrows arched. “Military? You mean like the mainland realms that keep large numbers of men permanently armed and fight large-scale battles?”