Calan - The Immortality Paradox

Chapter Thirteen: Disciples of Coedwig, Part Two

The extremely long, carpeted hallways of the Leviathan cruiser were air conditioned. Kalet could feel a gentle breeze wash over his freshly moisturised skin as he wandered aimlessly. Despite the extent of the hallways - sometimes spanning the entire length of the ship - the Professor encountered very few people. There were a couple of passengers engrossed in conversation as they walked past dressed in formal attire. A legless robot wheeled around offering their assistance should anyone need it. From a specific perspective, the ship seemed gratuitous in its size and lavish decoration - unsuitable for political circumstances. It reminded him of the vast convoys that used to frequent the spaceways through Hanner Cylch. But Kalet had come to the embittered conclusion that vanity always trumped sense.

Halfway around the loop of the ship's perimeter, the Professor caught the sound of a familiar voice. Clear and shrill, it infused the air like an icy wind. Several paces later and he came upon Baroness Edwina Norwood involved in a solo game of tennis through a doorway to a prism-shaped space. Between forehands and backhands she was rattling off a smorgasbord of stories to a delighted man nearby. As the holographic ball rebounded from a transparent barrier, the Baroness deftly swung her racket and squarely launched it back. As she spoke, the man took notes on his device as if his life depended on it. It was a few moments before Kalet recognised the scrawny, hunched form of Cyril Machaud, senior editor of the Cloudcutter Fanzine. No Leonis Chapter event went unsupervised by him and his gossip-craving paparazzo.

'...it'll be fascinating to introduce our colourful culture to our close neighbours, and likewise learn about their histories. Although, I'm quite sure none of them have experienced the terrible wars in which our ancestors have fought. My father, most notably, was a high-ranking officer in the last Mining War and essential in defeating the wretched terrorists attempting to claim our rightful property as their own. They will no doubt ask me how someone can be brave enough to look death in the eyes and defend their livelihood. From personal experience, it can be emotionally demanding...'

The snowy tendrils of hair tied up together behind her head bounced as she took another powerful shot. The Baroness was renowned for her punctilious athleticism and was the owner of a mountainside of recreational facilities back on E'blanche. Due to her exposure in politics and via the Fanzine's daily news outlet, she was often referred to as the Leonis Chapter's most fashionable politician. Kalet tried to give the vanity brigade a wide berth, but it was practically impossible considering most of the base employees were caught in the social web. The whole idea of showcasing one's life to the gawping public was vomit-inducing.

'Do you think the Administrator is a good role-model for representing our humble Chapter?...Considering his history of interplanetary relations?' The way the reporter intensely goggled at the Baroness was discomfiting, to say the least. Eyes slithering up and down.

'Trusted, elected representatives have put their faith in Dominic. He is a changed man; a servant of the people.' Showing off her agility, the Baroness switched stance and cleanly back-handed the ball with minimum effort. Her voice barely wavered, emphasising her high-pitched, over-dramatic intonation. It was such a staple of her persona, that Kalet couldn't perceive its artificial nuance any longer. 'What's vital about this impromptu conference is to show our resilience on the galactic stage. The Administrator wields a masterclass in standing up against authority. Some may even joke that he's the windbreak of change.' She chuckled at that. 'But the reason why I believe in the faith our government has shown him is that he will not allow the Calan to beguile us. Nothing fools him. Any sign of machinations and he'll have them by their horns. That's the wily lion roaring inside him. The Leonis Chapter can be thankful that they have someone like him to protect their wishes.' The Professor cringed at the many regurgitated, Calanphobic talking points he'd heard of the years. He almost choked on the tablet threatening to rise back up his throat as he observed Machaud's perverted gaze.