Calan - The Immortality Paradox

Chapter Thirteen: Disciples of Coedwig, Part One

Date: 357, OA19,655

Location: Between E'blanche and Castell, Canol System

With a sound similar to the storm he'd escaped on E'blanche, the Professor rose from his cryogenic chamber; his frozen muscles sparking in a thousand explosions. Clicking knee-caps and a heavy head quadrupled the feeling of nausea. He had forgotten the experience of waking from an extended dream-like existence, as if he'd spent days in a drug-induced reverie. Gone were the times when he used to make short space-hops from the Starrise Academy to Jikan no Shiro for a week-long getaway in a simulated exercise camp. The strapping youthfulness had long disappeared, along with his brief allegiance to violence.

Cautiously, he inspected his cramped cabin, squinting through the glare of the ultramarine overhead lamps. It was a windowless cuboid. An assortment of his personal possessions piled into metallic crates. His disassembled telescope resting against one of them; he had hoped to take advantage of Castell's atmospheric-free views. In addition, there was a physical copy of the U2-Fly blueprint curled up in one corner. While Harissa and Gregon made the necessary repairs to the original design, Steale hoped to draft a new two-hundred and seventy degree radiation shield to shelter it from external interference in the future. Though it would take time. And the Professor failed to listen to the common sense in his mind telling him the whole endeavour was fruitless without any financial backing.

With many Calan at Castell, he hoped to locate at least one with adequate knowledge of interplanetary communication. Sometimes he longed to return to the Academy, with emeritus professors with an abundance of ambition and their unconditional commitment to science. Though he adored his home world, populated with a rugged landscape and glacial seas, its people lacked a certain sophistication.

As he regained synchronicity, his gut somersaulted. If the Professor had any sense, he would embark the nearest shuttle and fly home to E'blanche. A natural storm was far more bearable than a political one. From the very moment President Tywysydd asked for his help, Kalet Steale knew his every waking moment would turn into a maelstrom of unease and political subterfuge. In the sixty-seven years of his life, nothing had seemed less certain. Not even the guilt he felt in the moment he abandoned his comrades on Kompass at the tail end of the Third Mining War.

Inevitably, Administrator Drindlock didn't take kindly to his participation in preliminary talks for the Gathering; a rare equilibrium of opinion. Despite being vouched for by nominated spokesperson Sir Elis and his older brother, Rafe, the animosity between them transcended the momentousness of the conference. Honestly, Steale felt like a mismatched wire in the engine of a spaceship in freefall. In light of this, it wasn't difficult to understand why the Administrator had chosen to take his own ship to rendezvous with them at Castell. Undoubtedly accompanied by his dispassionate droid, Constant, and any sycophantic halfwits who were too cowardly to call him crooked.

Confidentially, Kalet was pleased Sir Elis had been voted into the role of speaker. If only to diminish the Administrator's influence. If the Professor was to fulfil any of the Calan President's requests, advising a close friend seemed a much simpler task than negotiating with an arch nemesis. However, it was not guaranteed success. Although the Mayor of Crin held a moral standing and would rightly believe the Calan were the best chance of solving the mystery of the Disappearing, he was also bound to democracy. Kalet wasn't one to question the integrity of the political system...merely the judgement of the civilians who used it. Sir Elis wouldn't deny his people their right to an opinion. A longstanding hatred of the immortal beings took precedence for the Leonis Chapter, and Kalet didn't have the heart to encourage his dear friend to jeopardise his position. Politics is poison. How much poison has he consumed so far?

To appease the aches and pains inhabiting his restful body, Kalet stretched with an almighty sigh. 'Wonder what date it is...' Offering the rumination rhetorically to the room, he'd completely forgotten about the automated system built into the passenger cabins.