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Bonus look at sequel.

September 26th, 2008 at 9:16 am
all contents copyright 2008 Robert P. Francis & Joleen Bartles.


THE SERENDIPITY

En Route
 
“It is not advisable your reverence,” Criminon pleaded with his Lam Waron master. “We do not know what the message means.”
            “It probably has to do with RamsyXan. CreXan must want to talk in person with me. That’s all,” Petrexin clung unsteadily to his crutch. He relied on it most of the time to give him balance. The dark corridors seemed reassuring to him. “CreXan must want me there to help decide how we are going to finally get rid of RamsyXan. He did break one of our most sacred agreements. We never do anything to undermine our own organization. Certainly not torpedo it.”
            “The message said nothing to that effect. Furthermore, we aren’t receiving any signals at all from the Resort Haven,” said Criminon.
            “He’s probably busy tormenting Chicgeza, or some absurdity like that. If I know CreXan, he is off in some sort of self indulgent behavior.”
            “It is highly irregular for him to cut off all communication. It sounded like a distress call,” Criminon stood resolute; he turned an upsetting purplish hue. He had earned his way to become Petrexin’s most trusted and senior aid, and not because he was mistaken too often.
            “You would have me believe something dire could be wrong. Eclipsia is the most heavily protected planet. It would take unusual shielding to get past the detection fields. The system there is virulent in protecting itself. No, Eclipsia is very secure. I will go and assist CreXan. And you are to come along.”
            “Yes you reverence,” announced Criminon. He would have liked to have spared the expense that would be incurred for the trip: fuel for one, Petrexin’s time away from overseeing his operations, was another. It was Criminon’s job to see that resources be spared to help assure Petrexin’s standing. By running everything at peak efficiency, Petrexin rose through the ranks to surpass his brethren. It made him one of the remaining resilient Barons. Efficiency was the rule he lived by. The rule that would make him the last and supreme Baron. The rule Criminon must always abide by.
            “We will determine a means to apprehend RamsyXan and send him to his final relinquishment, well before the next wamp agglomeration. Then there will only be three of us…my time is coming.”
            “Yes your reverence and also your ship is ready now. We will make it as far as Ashton’s Belt sometime late this evening.”                                                                                                             
            Petrexin hobbled up the gangway through the portico leading to the ship. He and Criminon, seated aboard, wasted no time getting down to business.
            “Arcanaris has put in orders for more of their new trans-cranial signalers. We need to up component production. The Arcanarans use the devices to receive communications which are directly translated into…”
            “Enough about that. Do we have sufficient supplies for their initial orders?”
            “Yes.”
            “Have the system finish filling the first of the orders. But only have a limited number of the product delivered for release. With fewer available they will be willing to pay a higher inflated price. The first consumers are always willing to pay the highest price for the latest technology. Later we will announce that more have become available, the rest will eat them up like zag flies on waste. I should be able to make a tidy profit off the deal. Send up a topographic. I’d like to see which part of Arcanaris to purchase next.”
            Criminon entered a few commands into a circular device with blinking red lights. From it emerged a map, displaying multiple continents on Arcanaris. Petrexin could then, for his own perusal, choose which one to buy next.
            Petrexin’s ship skirted the outside of the Pitrion Haven. Its final destination: Eclipsia.
            Due to the now extreme velocity, the ship filled with inertial dampening liquids. Occupants moved seemlessly and breathed easily through the liquid. However, Criminon’s particular incorporated species always held protectively to their existence sustaining sybotol tanks. They could not breathe without a consistent supply.
            “Your reverence,” Crimminon said. “You should get some rest. Conserve your energy. We have a while before we get there.”
            “Yes. That is a good idea. Conserve my energy. Yes.”
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