Calan - The Immortality Paradox

Chapter Thirteen: Disciples of Coedwig, Part Four

'It happened right before my eyes! There we were, walking the path along the Gelé River. She always loved that; off the beaten track and along the riverside. We got as far as the old Pioneer Mill, and she'd vanished. I'll never forget the way it happened. Like...dust blowing in the wind. She might've been made of paper the way she simply...blew away.' The Development Affairs Minister's voice strained under the emotion. A handkerchief pulled from a sleeve dabbed under his eyes. 'I'm sorry, Sir Elis, but this Gathering is bringing it all back. This Incubus is an evil force that must be destroyed. It has taken innocent people and left the rest of us in devastation.' A veteran of the E'blanche government, Henry Maurin was a grey-haired, conservative individual who's temper could swing from one end of the spectrum to the other in a heartbeat. He had cornered the Mayor next to a potted money tree in a quiet part of the foyer. Elis had heard the story numerous times before, but was too polite to mention. In the passage of time since their conversation started, the population of the room had doubled. 'People are saying the Calan can help, but I think people forget their mistreatement of Human beings. They are not to be trusted. They negotiated a peace treaty with terrorists who stole our mining economy. What will the Calan do this time? Placate with a planet? I wouldn't put it past them.'

So as not to coax the wrath of his temper, Sir Elis chose to wisely remain silent during this exchange. Thankfully, Harrison, his communications director, managed to guide the minister politely away before the subject was changed a fourth time.

'Come say hello again when you have the chance, young Mayor!'

Sir Elis intended to greet as many of the travelling dignatories as he could before arriving at Castell. Although he was well-known and liked in the Leonian community, politicians had a habit of concealing their disdain behind smiles and vacuous platitudes. Whatever it took, he wanted to sew trust in each of them, if it was possible.

The foyer was a vast space at the rear of the Leviathan cruiser with a twenty-metre wide window out to the stars. The space had been lavishly-decorated with candle-lit lanterns and chandeliers, cushioned armchairs, a buffet arranged across three long tables and an orchestra playing a tuneful symphony in one corner. Politicians with diverse titles entered the colourful space dressed smartly in suits and costumes ideal for an Adminstrator's inauguration. Some looked as though they'd purchased the latest garments from Arkanstar's fashion lineup. Robotic servants weaved in and out of groups offering beverages and replenishing the food while the mortals conversed and laughed.

Sir Elis couldn't help feel the circumstances were strange in the lead-up to a political conference. Celebrations were contrasted with a deep-seated agitation, like an invisible force in the Universe. These were not a people prepared to make tough choices. Neither were they in any way content in visiting a space station of Calan design. But despite any animosity towards the Calan, the event was a unique moment in history. Twenty-four Chapters of Humanity, all represented in one location.

As a robot shoved a glass of red-coloured liquid into his hand as it wheeled by, Defence Secretary Eloise Gascoigne approached after separating from another pack of politicians. On the lapel of her lime green attire, which was guilded in white seams, she wore a strange black flower. A parting of her hair rested between it and her shoulder. The flower looked familiar, and Sir Elis soon realised he'd seen it before in the Centre du Peuple.

'A follower of the Toujours Sect?'

She looked down at her shoulder and blushed. 'Ah, you noticed!'

'Hard to miss.' The Mayor automatically brought the glass in his hand to his lips, sipped and immediately regretted it. He passed his grimace off as a look of interest.

'Not exactly an endorsement, but the head of the group, Vidal, has been very supportive of my family trust. You've probably heard of it; the Gascoigne Quarry Survivors Trust, in memory of the community of miners who survived the landslide of twenty-six.'