CHAPTER 1 - ARBURDICON
Arbatror rushed onto the ship’s Bridge. As First Officer, he was concerned with being in the presence of his superior as quickly as possible. The vessel was performing its final approach maneuvers to the third planet of the Andrur System. In front of Arbatror, a bluish sphere grew in size. It was nighttime on the planet that appeared on the Bridge’s immense front display, considering the angle from which they were approaching.
Herdron raised his right arm, a clenched fist held at head height. It was enough for the navigators to know, without a word being uttered, that they should hold the gigantic ship steady in its position.
“Full stop, sir,” one of the many officers seated at the navigation tables responded to the visual command.
In the Bridge hall, under the dim illumination of the controls manipulated by the officers and a discreet and elegant strip of light that shone just above the elevator that had brought Arbatror, everyone exchanged glances in a mix of curiosity and contained surprise.
From the command chair, in the center and elevated above the navigators’ workstations, Herdron’s imposing figure turned his head back toward the First Officer.
“We are in the right position.”
There was no doubt in Herdron’s grave voice about that. The exasperation of someone who had made this journey, incredulous of its purpose, could be heard in every word of the short sentence.
Even so, Arbatror did not hesitate. He touched the translucent device on his uniform’s black glove and said:
“State location.”
Consequently, a male voice, almost imperceptibly metallic, filled the area, adding images to its speech in delicate projections of a cold, brilliant blue that built a map of the ship’s location as they followed the narrative.
“Position 4.5.7.8.9, vector 3.5.7-1, Andrur System confirmed,” the artificial intelligence calmly described as the blue lines passed through the Bridge’s space. “Position 4.5.7.8.9-1.2, vector 3.5.7-1.4, Planet Arburdicon, the third planet on the scale of the star Termenis confirmed. Distance from the Mator System, confirmed. Distance from Talvegan, confirmed. Final position: correct. Dartrok, Imperial Combat and Exploration Starship, Category 1, is at the expected destination.”
Arbatror wanted to shrug but restrained himself. It wouldn’t be appropriate given their hierarchy, nor was it in his nature to have spontaneous reactions, even though he had known his Commander for a considerable time.
“Arburdicon...“ the only thing he could do was repeat the name of the small planet ahead, as if re-confirming what the onboard computer had already assured.
Herdron turned back to the image on the display.
“There’s not a single light emanating from this place... just darkness. According to the calculations, I believe that...”
“According to our scientists and historians, Arburdicon should be at a civilizational stage level 5, compatible with stellar travel and short-range space exploration. Technology to take them to the ends of this System,” Arbatror interrupted him.
“So, what happened?” Herdron laughed lightly, in a mocking way that was uniquely his. “Do you see anything there compatible with a civilization that explores other celestial bodies?”
“Science Officer,” Arbatror turned firmly to a young man, slightly younger than himself, who was working on his feet at a lateral station at the level of the platform where the Commander stood.
The young man, even before the First Officer’s veiled request for information, was already mapping all sorts of data that could give clues about the dark rock that lay ahead.
“Atmosphere, soil, and liquid area readings indicate high radiation levels,” the young man continued, his left hand’s fingers moving frantically across illuminated screens in the air. He passed them, one by one, with agility at chest height, reading as fast as he could.
“The radiation is compatible with debris and sub-compounds from primitive nuclear explosions. Galmanian intervention is ruled out by the type of signal.”
Herdron rose from his chair. The long cloak of his uniform gracefully followed its tall, burly owner.
“Radiation?” the word sounded as unreal as the journey that had brought him here.
“Is there any nearby Level 5 civilization with nuclear capability that would justify an attack?” Arbatror asked the Science Officer.
“What Level 5 civilization would transport such primitive weaponry through space to attack another, Arbatror?” Herdron retorted, astonished.
“None...” The First Officer yielded to the obviousness of his Commander’s observation.
“The radiation is well-scattered,” the young scientist added. “There are no areas of absolute concentrations. It’s all over the planet...”
“They fired on each other?” Herdron seemed confused by the idea, but deep down, he found the hypothesis perfectly plausible. He was one of the few who had opposed the trip to Arburdicon. He remembered his protests and arguments well, in which he had claimed it was a species long abandoned by the Empire and of an aggressive nature, according to the records in Talvegan’s historical archives.
“In some parts, sir, the radiation reading is lower. I’ve managed to completely scan this side of the planet,” the Officer continued. “There’s evidence of mass destruction...” he sighed. “What appear to have been buildings are in ruins.”
Herdron looked closely at the dark globe on the display.
“So we came for nothing?” and he laughed again with his particular air of mockery.
“We are following the Emperor’s orders,” Arbatror said with the utmost delicacy. Still, he did not escape the Commander’s disapproving look for the bold comment.
“Survivors?” Arbatror turned to the Officer, trying to escape the unfriendly expression that was overcoming him.
“One moment, sir.”
He then approached his Commander, hoping the anger would dissipate quickly. He knew that, in truth, even though the look had been a reprimand, Herdron was reasonable and knew his personality and diligent intentions as the “Second” on the ship.
“I remember Karelffar’s orders well,” Herdron murmured softly, but without facing him. He kept his eyes on the display’s horizon with the planet in front. It was an expected turn of events. This was how he showed some flexibility and sympathy within his natural hardness as a Commander of an Imperial vessel.
“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to be impertinent...”
“You know I never agreed to this venture. What did Karelffar expect us to find?” The Commander’s tone remained low. He did not want the other officers to know what they were discussing.
“The Emperor is dedicated to the studies of Arburdicon.” He understood, following him in the same tone of voice and finally winning back his Commander’s grayish-green gaze.
“Dedicated? I think you meant obsessed.”
Arbatror merely agreed with a slight nod and a smile.
“Karelffar imagines we would find warriors, allies in our fight,” Herdron continued. “He reads about the old Talveganian explorations, from the times of the first colonizations, and finds Arburdicon and the fantastic accounts of our officers from that era to be fascinating.”
“A curious and intelligent race of humanoids like we had never seen, who charmed us while they mistook us for gods and worshipped us,” Arbatror eloquently recited a famous passage from one of the reports Herdron was referring to.
“Intelligent?” Herdron couldn’t contain himself.
Now, finally, Arbatror risked the shrug he hadn’t had the courage for before.
“Should we report to the Empire with brevity, sir?” he added the question immediately after the action.
“Yes, of course. Communications Officer,” Herdron turned to a young man on the lower level of the Bridge at a station near the large central display. “Connect this deck’s main observation room to the Emperor’s exclusive channel. Inform him in advance that we have reached our destination and wish to report what we have found. No one is to approach the room while we are in the Emperor’s presence. Arbatror, you’re coming with me,” he ordered, beckoning him with a hand toward the exit.
Herdron and Arbatror left the bridge. The former thought about how to report Arburdicon’s state of destruction to Karelffar. He knew that his sentences, full of reproach for the purposeless journey, would sound defiant. The latter wondered when they would descend to investigate the pale, dead blue dot.
They entered the main observation room a few corridors after leaving the Bridge. The room, with its large oval table in the center, showed the dark space through its sides. Small points of light illuminated the stunning scenery, while planets showed themselves in the distance. Arbatror would never tire of images like that. Space was mysterious, divinely beautiful, and brought peace to his soul on their constant journeys. He waited for Herdron to sit down before choosing one of the few available chairs for himself.
Herdron crossed his arms and sighed at length.
“Ask the Science Officer if he’s managed to find signs of living beings in this place yet.”
Arbatror promptly touched the small point on his glove and once again questioned the Officer about the requested results regarding survivors. His face lit up when the Officer replied that he had located settlements. He turned to his Commander with undisguised enthusiasm in his voice.
“Humans. We’ve found humans.”
“Transmit the visuals here. Let’s see them before we speak with Karelffar.”
In a few seconds, a set of images formed above the oval table. First, a map, pointing out the settlements seen from space as red dots in the planet’s northern region. The second image and the ones that followed were more precise and extremely clear, showing small villages and beings moving in those places in real time.
Herdron frowned. His expression was so serious that Arbatror immediately noticed his Commander’s dissatisfaction.
“They’re primitive!” Herdron stated the obvious aloud. “Well, judging by the radiation we detected, it’s no surprise,” he deduced. “These dots,” he waved his right hand toward the map. “What are they? Or rather, what were they before they became this way?” he huffed, visibly annoyed by the current state of Arburdicon.
“Our historical records, sir, indicate they were countries that made up what they called Europe,” the Science Officer’s voice clarified through the tiny, multifunctional device on Arbatror’s glove.
“These were the regions we explored in the past?”
“Not entirely, Commander,” the Science Officer continued. “The Talvegan Empire was present in the areas known as Egypt, Rome, Greece, the Aztecs, Mayans, and Incas. One could say, considering Rome and Greece, that our explorers knew a very small part of what would become Europe.”
“What are countries?” Herdron didn’t understand the reference.
“A country is a geopolitical grouping with specific cultural characteristics, sir.”
“They reproduced, on a micro-scale, the division that exists in the Galaxy? In the Galaxy, there’s some sense to it; after all, the planets are different from each other, inhabited by different races. They all belonged to the same planet... why did they divide? Unusual beings, aren’t they?” Herdron stared at Arbatror with a deliberately derogatory tone in his expression.
“We also divided ourselves in the past...” Arbatror murmured. Another icy stare was his only answer.
“Millennia ago, you mean, don’t you?” Herdron retorted dryly.
“The Sentinel!” Arbatror suddenly cut off that moment of contempt from his superior. “We left a Sentinel!” he remembered, with the joy of a child discovering something fascinating.
“Yes, sir. There is a record of a Sentinel left by our ancestors when they departed from Arburdicon," the Officer confirmed.
“Check if the Sentinel is operational in orbit and if it was transmitting data to Talvegan,” Arbatror ordered.
The Officer, with agility, identified the Sentinel’s orbital trajectory and intercepted its signal.
“Sentinel is functional and transmitting, sir,” he announced. “Apparently, it never stopped transmitting for the last 5,000 Earth years... we’ve been receiving information from Arburdicon all along in Talvegan,” he finished, surprised.
“That would explain the Emperor’s fascination...“, Arbatror concluded. “Karelffar must have been studying the transmissions and been aware of Arburdicon’s evolutionary situation. But how could he not know about some conflict or catastrophe that had occurred?”
“Sir,” the Officer interrupted him. “A correction. The Sentinel continued to collect data from Arburdicon without interruption until the present moment. However, transmissions stopped at what appears to have been the year 1815 of the human calendar. I can’t establish the specific reason... but I believe it may have been due to an impact. The Sentinel seems to be damaged near the transmission area.”
“Can you tell us what stage of development that date represents for humans?” Herdron asked.
The Officer’s fingers continued to move quickly across the images floating around him, as he simultaneously activated the ship’s computational intelligence to map and diagnose the human race and its deeds shortly before 1815.
“Sir, from what I can quickly identify, I would venture to state it is at pre-civilizational level 3. Manual machines, emission of toxic gases, limited scale production. Very primitive technology... the parallel in Talvegan would be...”
“At the dawn of our planet,” Herdron completed. “So long ago we don’t even remember...”
“That would also explain the Emperor’s curiosity,” Arbatror continued. “If Karelffar was studying and following human records, it’s imaginable that he wanted to know the reason for the end of the Sentinel’s transmissions and what information was lost.”
“This, then, is definitely an exploratory mission...” Herdron sighed, certain that the Emperor’s whims had led them there. “Officer, consult and compile all available data from the last hundred human years that we haven’t received from the Sentinel,” he ordered. “How long will it take you to get back to us?”
“I’ll need a few minutes, sir.”
“Proceed and return to us, then. Tell Communications to postpone contact with the Emperor for a bit.”
“Yes, sir,” the Officer nodded, signing off.
Indeed, no more than ten minutes would pass before the young man contacted the main observation room with the results of the completed order. During this time, Arbatror and his Commander discussed actions they might be able to take in the coming hours or days.
“What did you find?” Herdron began the conversation.
“In the last hundred years, or century, as humans refer to this interval, there appears to have been a fierce dispute between what must have been powers on the planet. From what I understand, it had something to do with market dominance. Resource exploitation, sir. Just like us on Talvegan versus the Galmanians.”
“What kind of resources, Officer?” Arbatror asked.
“It’s not clear, sir. Nothing that seemed logical to me. The records indicate disputes involving non-real resources, translated into fictional values attributed to something they called currency. Nothing about it sounds reasonable... There are also records of scarcity of real resources for food and energy. But...”
“Go on, Officer,” Arbatror encouraged, noticing his disbelief.
“But the currency or currencies, from what I understood, there were several, are referenced countless times in the Sentinel’s recordings. This, and market disputes for the circulation of this concept of ‘currency,’ are recurring themes in their tensions. The fluctuations attributed to this fictional value also seemed very important in their contemporary culture. Important enough to justify a conflict.”
“So, they really had a conflict? Display the planet and identify where the conflict occurred,” Arbatror requested.
The planet appeared before Arbatror and Herdron, floating above the oval table. Everything was marked with a vivid orange tone in the sphere’s floating projection, which, incidentally, was consistent with the Officer’s observation about radiation everywhere.
“The entire planet...” Herdron said slowly. The expectation he had held since the beginning of this small investigation into Arburdicon was finally confirmed. “They destroyed one another...”
“The conflict was indeed on a global scale,” the Officer continued. “Humans called it the Third War. I’ve identified that there were two predecessors.”
“Isn’t that extraordinary?” Herdron laughed with genuine pleasure, satisfied. “They managed the feat of three wars amongst themselves!”
Arbatror shrank in his chair.
“That’s why there are no lights on the planet...” A genuine lament could be heard in his comment. He was sympathetic to the stories about Arburdicon. He would never confess this to Herdron, but he shared the Emperor’s same romanticism for the small blue planet.
“After the conflict, Officer, what records do we have in the Sentinel?”
“Nothing, Commander. Communications from the planet ceased. The conflict was devastating. The estimates I’ve reached through simulations are that the extermination was large-scale in the year of the conflict and the years that followed.”
“Silence because there was nothing left to capture and record...” Arbatror concluded.
“The year of the conflict?” Herdron leaned back in his chair calmly. Now, certain that he was looking at a destroyed planet, he felt a certain curiosity to know the end of the human civilization’s story. A somewhat dark curiosity that joined his immense desire to leave this solar system, so far from Talvegan.
“2036 of the human calendar, sir,” the Science Officer replied.
“The red points you showed before were responsible for the conflict?”
“A good portion, yes, Commander. I understood that many countries participated in the War. Especially countries in the northern area of the planet.”
Arbatror and Herdron exchanged glances. They should give this news to Emperor Karelffar. And not much time would pass between the brief conference of Herdron, his First Officer, and the Science Officer of the Dartrok spacecraft, and the call from the Communications Officer, announcing that the Emperor would appear projected in the main observation room. Herdron and Arbatror could not articulate any common, decent thoughts before Karelffar’s image materialized in the room.
“Your Majesty,” in unison, Herdron and Arbatror greeted him while standing, bowing their bodies slightly as a sign of reverence. Only after receiving a friendly smile in return and a slight gesture to sit down did the Commander and First Officer feel authorized to return to their places at the table.
The young Emperor, with a handsome face and the typical vigor of men his age, removed the veil that covered his long brown hair. The light tiara, which held the white veil on his head, came off with it. He was wearing ceremonial garments. He must have participated in some ceremony.
Herdron’s gaze fell upon the veil and the tiara that symbolized the sacredness guiding the Monarchs of Talvegan. The tiara, made of a metal similar to human gold, shone enchantingly. Nothing could be different, he thought, because the tiara referred to the primordial knowledge that had generated everything that existed, when the first light had appeared to inform and generate all other lights and all the matter that was born and reborn, in a nearly eternal cycle. Nearly eternal, the Talveganians believed, because nothing was infinite. Just as everything had started one day, everything must one day end.
Unintentionally, he also allowed his eyes to admire Karellfar’s sumptuous attire. The extremely dark blue color, in contrast with the gold, represented the universe in its darkness, and the stars, the nursery of life in their fantastic explosions and the twilight of their deaths.
The Talveganians were a religious people in their own way. They believed in the original force, which flooded the cosmos and allowed everything to exist, from complex beings to tiny and simple beings, from the most minuscule particles of matter to the gigantic manifestations of quasars and black holes. Everything that had a place in space came from and would return to this original force. Supported by this belief, the Talveganian royal family, since the beginnings of the Empire, honored this force in their rituals.
Karelffar, in his corporeal projection, turned to the immense lateral observation area.
“Arburdicon! Magnificent, as the writings of our ancestors say! Have you made contact yet?”
Arbatror and Herdron exchanged glances again. Herdron sighed before speaking.
“No, Your Majesty,” he limited himself to a short answer.
“For what reason not, Commander?” Karelffar reacted with admiration.
Herdron cleared his throat, coughing slightly before answering.
“There’s nothing for us to contact, Your Majesty. The planet is in ruins.”
Karelffar frowned, his expression definitely troubled. The Galmanians were not interested, at least not yet, in that quadrant of the Galaxy.
“They fought a war amongst themselves... they destroyed each other.”
The Emperor’s expression remained troubled.
“All we found were radiation, debris, and a few settlements in deplorable condition,” Arbatror completed his Commander’s statement. “We cannot have the humans as allies, Your Majesty, if that was your intention.”
Karelffar was slow to react to the sentence he had heard. Someone approached the Emperor and helped him remove the blue suit. Underneath, his tall body showed the usual royal clothing: a white shirt with long sleeves puffed at the cuffs and white pants over which ran a golden belt with fringes that went below his hips. Boots, as white as the clothes, rose over the pants.
A pageboy placed a mantle of a strong red color on Karelffar, draping it in wide, meticulous folds over the Emperor’s chest and fastening one part on his shoulder with a large ornament, also golden, in the shape of the head of the imposing bird that was the symbol of the royal family and the Empire. The same red mantle extended behind the Emperor, allowing it to fall like a pseudo-cape to the right of his back. Karelffar remained silent, pensive. The pageboy finished his service, fitting a sparkly stone adornment from the Emperor’s neck to the red mantle on his chest. The same material was present in the adornments that went to his wrists, under the puffy sleeves. Finally, after the whole process, upon seeing the pageboy greet him and move away, the Emperor said:
“Make contact.”
Herdron did not understand.
“Your Majesty, Arburdicon doesn’t even have Aurinion resources that we can extract. In fact, this entire solar system is poor in that mineral. We detected Aurinion only on two moons of a colorful planet with large rings around it. What did the humans call that planet again?” he turned to Arbatror.
“Saturn,” the First Officer whispered.
“Saturn!” Herdron completed loudly, as if he wanted to show that he had remembered. “And even on those moons, the quantities are negligible! The Dartrok and the fleet that accompanies it would be of greater use by extracting this little mineral and investigating the quadrant area. We could discover new potential colonies or even Galmanian troops as lost as we are around here...”
Karelffar smiled. Herdron, without noticing, had made it clear how he felt about the mission to Arburdicon: a waste of time, energy, and everything.
“Go down as soon as possible,” the Emperor said calmly. “And report back to me as soon as you have information about the settlements you detected. It is my wish.”
With that final sentence, Karelffar’s image dissolved into the air in millions of tiny luminous points.
Herdron took a deep breath and sat down. He looked up at Arbatror, who was still standing.
“Prepare an exploratory mission. Thirty people. Ten science and medical officers. The rest, soldiers. Only one ship will go down. Heavily armed. They are primitive, but we won’t go down without precautions.”
Arbatror felt confused. Weapons? What for? Against creatures devoid of technology?
“I don’t care if they’re primitive,” Herdron understood the First Officer’s silence and expression perfectly. “We will go down armed in accordance with an incursion into hostile territory. I consider humans unpredictable and violent. Not to mention stupid! And that’s what matters.”
Arbatror nodded.
“Anything else, sir?”
“Disperse the fleet through the solar system and its vicinity. One ship should patrol beyond the star’s zone of influence. The others should organize and monitor the system itself, dividing themselves between the asteroid area at the end and the area of the inner planets. The Dartrok must withdraw from orbit and approach Arburdicon’s satellite. I want a defensive position.”
“Yes, sir.”
Herdron got up and walked to the room’s exit. He turned back when the door opened.
“And you and I will go down.”
He left, leaving Arbatror with the unusual announcement and a sudden frenzy in his soul. He would finally get to know up close the myth of Arburdicon told in the ancient books of Talvegan.
