12 Song of the Tarinade

The Flight of the Armada

Book 12: Song of the Tarinade

Jay Michael Jones

Smashwords edition

copyright 2015 by Jay Michael Jones

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Table of Contents

Chapter 123 – Life Among You

Chapter 124 – Plessier

Chapter 125 – Song of the Tarinade

Chapter 126 – My Heart’s Favorite

Chapter 127 – Onward

Chapter 128 – A Natural Gift

Chapter 129 – Downtime

Chapter 130 – The New Guy

Chapter 131 – Have You No Shame

Chapter 132 – The Knack

Chapter 133 – Transporter Blues

Chapter 134 – Shipload

Chapter 135 – Colonel Medina, At Your Service

Chapter 136 – Why Chassiren Roar

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Chapter 123: Life Among You

Paten Rebaum sat with her husband Catic in an examination room on the medical ship Daven Bau, waiting for Lady Melina Medina to return with Paten’s fertility test results. Paten’s gills fluttered in alarm as she tried not to think of why it might be taking so long for the results. The miscarriage of their only child after the Great Attack made Paten concerned about her ability to bear future children. Other Thuringi including Aquatics like her currently enjoyed an unusually fertile time. Instead of expecting perhaps one or two children over the span of two or three centuries, Thuringi were now conceiving children with less than a decade between births. For the first time in thousands of years married Thuringi intentionally practiced conception. Although children were certainly welcome, the cramped and hazardously uncertain life aboard the Thuringi Armada was not what many parents hoped for their progeny. Both the clergy and the medical personnel were in agreement that prepared parenthood was vital for the welfare of the child, the family and the society.

Paten’s mother believed that the natural timeline of several decades between children had been altered by a biological imperative to continue the race. If that were so, then Paten felt she should have become pregnant by now. Perhaps the results of the test would be disappointing – perhaps she would never bear another child. She knew many people from the glory days of Old Thuringa had such histories.

It’s been nearly an hour, she fretted to Catic. Whatever could be the problem?

Perhaps Dr. Medina has been called away on an emergency, or taken aside for a consultation, Catic suggested. It could be anything, dear heart, which has absolutely nothing to do with us.

In kinder times I would not be so distressed, Paten admitted. It is these dark times which bring out my negative thoughts!

Well, we have not exactly enjoyed the luxury of easy optimism. Catic braided and unbraided the end of his rope of hair, a habit he indulged all his life. But it will get better. It already has. We have the transportal working again thanks to Major Duncan – I mean, Colonel Duncan.

Paten did not have time to reply as Melina returned at that moment. She wore her regular medical uniform, a tidy smock and flowing slacks and did not have her long hair piled high on her head, but worn tucked into a long lace-knitted snood made of thick dark fibers. She looked like any other Thuringi citizen rather than Lady Melina Medina de Saulin, the last Duchess of Felensk. After the terrific loss of Thuringi during the fall of the planet and the Great Attack, what few titled nobles left were held in high esteem. The different appearance made her patients feel a little more at ease and less prone to be formal in her presence. I do beg your pardon, but I was addressed for a consultation on another case.

Catic nodded. We thought as much.

Now then! According to these results I see no reason to believe you cannot conceive again; you are young healthy people. I know miscarriage is crushing, but do not lose heart. Those dark days were difficult for everyone and people respond to crisis and stress in different ways. Perhaps now that circumstances have improved, you will be able to conceive easier and carry to full term.

But we have been trying already, Paten fretted.

Melina patted her patient’s hand. Then do not think about trying, she said softly. Simply let things happen. Be of good cheer and be active in all manner of pleasant activities. Remember what the poet Faeden Deering wrote: ‘Even as my interests were whetted by the world/ along came a babe to demand equal time/ and the world came a dismal second.’

The Song of Late-Age Babies, Catic recalled with a smile. ‘No sooner did our offspring leave the nest with its own twigs/ than a new one arrived:/ unbidden, unplanned, unmatched’.

So we should not make the effort to have another child, since one will simply show up one day? Paten’s skepticism was plainly written on her face.

Well, babies are not called by summons! I advise that you practice every chance you get, but refrain from keeping score, Melina said deliberately not looking them in the eye. She knew via peripheral vision that the couple exchanged astonished glances at each other, no doubt surprised by the frank words from the Last Duchess of Felensk.

Well, I am aged enough to be considered a young Elder now, Melina reminded herself. I doubt these youngsters believe Elders have the ability to broach the subject of sex without prefacing it with a firm scolding!

Dr. Asa Mennar walked slowly and stately down the corridor of the Engineering cargo vessel Steag Hallid, his carved walking cane held firmly in his bony grasp and a long warm cape trailing and rippling in the wake of his movement. Passing workers nodded and bowed to him in greeting, as befitting his status as an Elder. Asa’s carefully braided and coiled silver hair lent a high degree of dignity to his bearing, and his expression was that of a patient, kindly soul. They knew why he was there, and their appreciation was gratifying if misplaced. He lifted his cane in greeting to a man standing guard outside an apartment door.

I came as soon as I could, Sergeant Tallit, Asa said. So Captain Rebaum appears unwell today?

I regret the need to disturb you, Dr. Mennar, but Alec sounds so… well, he sounds even dafter than he usually does, the man explained. Digby Tallit was not a man easily disturbed by odd behavior and the concern in his voice caught Asa’s attention.

Indeed? In what manner?

He’s going on about the Great Attack again, something about invisible walkways and the Royal Family. And he’s refusing to take his medicines again.

Ah, but we cannot have that! Poor Captain Rebaum. After all these years he still cannot separate reality from delusional dream. Well, we shall see about easing his anxieties. A voice inside the apartment continued to issue muffled rants. Asa indicated he wanted the door opened and the man complied.

I’m right behind you, Dr. Mennar, in case he becomes violent.

Alec’s apartment was bare of most standard furniture. Furniture that had long ago been broken beyond repair had been replaced by pillows, and light fixtures firmly welded to the ceiling. A detailed handcrafted mural of soft muted colors covered an entire section of wall, depicting a pleasant scene from Old Thuringa’s Sendenar town square: people gathered around a gazebo to listen to an orchestral concert while children played games in the foreground. At first Asa had encouraged Alec to engage in something soothing to calm the troubled freighter captain until the medicine fully took effect, and Alec originally painted only a horn player on a chair. Over the years he added more to the scene, trees and buildings and people as his artwork improved.

Now Alec Rebaum paced back and forth in the living room, his casual clothing wrinkled and askew, muttering to himself aggressively. His dark blonde hair hung raggedly to his shoulders in a recently self-inflicted haircut. In Thuringi society, hair was seldom cut unless there was a medical reason or a task necessity. Mechanics usually kept their hair trimmed short in order to keep it from getting caught in working machinery, but pilots like Alec would normally never allow their hair cut. The ends would be trimmed of course, but a pilot’s pride in his hair was a well-known and sometimes well-parodied fact. That Alec would intentionally chop off his own magnificent braid for no express reason, spoke of an extremely tormented man.

His chatter was already agitated but as soon as he spied Asa, Alec became belligerent. -it’s time to fix that door, we should see to it so the crew can get in – oh no, I will not take any more of that stuff! It isn’t right; I should be back at work! Don’t you give it to me, I won’t have it!

But of course, Alec. I only came to see what you’ve added to your artwork. This is simply a social call, nothing more.

Oh. Asa’s soothing voice slowed Alec’s frenzied pacing. Well, I haven’t added much here. I haven’t done anything in here. It’s all in there. In there, where the truth lies. He gestured to his bedroom with a hand wave that was a bit less agitated than before.

Well of course, Asa said. Why don’t you show me? He gave Sergeant Tallit a smile and a brief toss of his head, indicating Alec posed no threat to the doctor. As Alec walked by Asa toward the bedroom door, the Elder quickly slapped his hand against Alec’s back as if congratulating him. Instead he administered a dose of Alec’s medicine.

Ow, Alex protested.

So sorry! Perhaps I’m stronger than I thought! One can never be too certain about the frailties of an Elder, you know, Asa joked as he palmed the syringe and slipped it into the waiting hands of the guard.

You have a surprisingly sharp hand even for a bony old Elder, Alec grumbled, taking a slight misstep as the quick-acting version of the formula entered his system. Asa swiftly put Alec’s arm across his own shoulders and helped him on into the bedroom to an enormous pillow with no sharp or solid supports that could harm a psychotic patient. The guard helped Asa, and together they covered the troubled officer with a large quilt.

There now Alec, rest yourself and it will be better on the morrow, Asa soothed as he stroked the man’s head.

Digby Tallit glanced up and gasped. God’s eye! What is that?

Asa followed his gaze, and the old man’s jaw dropped down in surprise and alarm.

Across two adjoining bedroom walls, a dark scene with hundreds of stars played background to a depiction of the ill-fated flagship Quantid, under attack by a fleet of Shargassi ships. A sizeable Shargassi vessel was alongside the Thuringi flagship, and Asa saw more planned work penciled in between the Quantid and the large Shargassi vessel.

That is… it must be the manifestation of his greatest fears, I believe. This is not good; his imagination is peppered with the worst a mind can create and it’s becoming his reality instead of what is fact. That is undoubtedly what has triggered this latest round of troubles. Perhaps our Alec should go on structured visits with family, or perhaps to take in a program with peaceful themes, once we have him back on a proper medication schedule. He lowered his voice so only the guard could hear him. And despite the talented effort, we should remove or cover this terrible scene as soon as possible. The poor lad will only relapse whenever he awakens.

I’ll get a team in here to cover it; I think we have a few canisters of wall white we could use. Let me carry him into the living room and get some lads straight away to paint.

Asa nodded. It should be done before he awakens, so perhaps he will think it was all a dream.

I don’t know, the guard said slowly as he sat back on his feels and looked over the mural. It must have taken him quite some time to paint this. Such effort will be remembered. A quick sketch or afternoon’s work could be forgotten but this – this would stay with you.

I suppose so. Still, it must be cleared so he will not be able to dwell on it.

The guard nodded and hoisted the sleeping Alec over his shoulder. I’ll get someone and be right back.

Asa followed and picked up his medical kit at the entrance to Alec’s apartment. I’ll stay with him, he told the guard. After the man left, Asa returned to the bedroom.

The front room mural was a pastoral one with bright cheerful colors and an impressionistic style, reminiscent of the lovely murals that once graced the sides of the public buildings of Old Thuringa. However, the bedroom mural was a stark emotional picture in moody shades of grey and blue. The sharp depiction of white explosions and gruesome red streaks gave testament to Alec’s point of view on the Steag Hallid, which tormented his frame of mind. The artwork itself was well-done; indeed Asa admired the talent before him but the subject was too volatile to allow fresh conjecture on a painful event.

In the years since the Great Attack, the subject of why the flagship Quantid had been so easily seized and destroyed had been brought up several times. The crew of the Ellis insisted they were sent away by a direct order from King Lycasis and that they were assured the Quantid had proper protection. There were no survivors of the Naradi vessel Fen to say otherwise. Well no, I never actually heard the order but Colonel Hellick did since you know, the ship-to-ship com was out and we had to use personal coms instead. It was the most dreadful of happenstance that we were out of place at such a time.

Asa’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at the sleeping captain before him. No one knew it had been Dr. Asa Mennar who helped disrupt the coms and directed Tomas Hellick to fly the Ellis to the Moze Ginty, with the intent to begin a coup against the crown. The mere fact that a coup was at the opening stages at the time of attack was damning enough. Asa shuddered. He could only agonize that the Shargassi realized the coms were in disarray and simply happened to strike at the same fateful hour Asa and his fellow malcontents set their own plans in motion. The question of hostages had been broached but never proven, and even Prince Darien’s fateful attempt to find out had no certain results. Only the destruction of the Quantid and the tinkering with ship logs immediately after the attack spared Asa and his co-conspirators from accusations that they were in league with the Shargassi.

Me, in league with those butchers, those… those animals? Asa thought contemptuously.

And yet that was exactly what he would have thought, had the coms been sabotaged by anyone else. As things stood, the Great Attack was considered a horrible amalgam of a terrible misunderstanding of orders coupled with a surprise attack by their mortal enemy, and that the Steag Hallid’s log and that of another ship were believed to have been damaged in the attack. If more facts were unraveled Asa and his co-conspirators would look guilty of conspiring with the enemy, a crime they did not commit, rather than the attempted coup they did commit.

Alec Rebaum’s mural proved he was aware of some matters no one else knew, things that would complicate Asa’s ability to defend himself against treason if those matters came to light. There had been nothing physically wrong with Alec after the Great Attack, but the horror of being trapped in a defenseless ship as he helplessly watched thousands die demanded therapy. Such therapy would have been problematic should he describe how the attack occurred only minutes after the Ellis left its guard position beside the Quantid with no replacement ship in sight. Asa was the first physician to see the Steag Hallid captain after the attack and once he realized what Alec witnessed, he administered strong medications to calm the shaken man. Alec could not simply succumb to his violent outbursts without his Elder relative Regan Rebaum demanding a thorough inquiry. Asa had managed to manipulate the Steag Hallid’s logs and was thankful life was too much of an immediate struggle for many people to ask questions of past events. Eventually time and the necessary medications to control his fragile emotional state would take their toll on the unfortunate captain, but patience was a virtue Asa had to control in tandem with cautious monitoring.

Once a lie has born it must be sheltered for the rest of its useful existence.

Glendon Garin’s return to Earth was quiet, and he and Echo headed to Oklahoma as soon as he came through the transporter. They hurried to a Tulsa hospital where Ed Gentry lay hooked up to all manner of monitors and machines. Margie sat beside him in a visitor’s chair. A nurse had just entered to refresh his water pitcher when the soft knock was heard at the door. Come in, Margie called. When the door opened, and Ed Gentry sat up for the first time in many days.

Glen, my boy, he croaked as his toothless smile parted his lips only slightly. Mother, get my teeth. Margie helped him put his teeth in as Glendon and Echo came to stand at his bedside. Oh, this just makes my day, Ed told the tall Thuringi. I didn’t know you were coming.

Stuart said you were feeling poorly, and I thought I should come see about you. Glendon took the old man’s hand in his as Ed settled back against his pillow. Echo went around to Margie, and hugged her.

Where’ve you been? Ed asked.

He’s been with the Armada, Margie reminded him. He can’t remember things from time to time, she explained to the Garins.

I can too, Ed replied. Why Glen, you look just like you always did. My, my. I’m mighty proud you went over there; mighty proud you came home.

Seeing Glendon’s puzzled look, Margie explained in a whisper, He gets you and our son Gary confused sometimes.

I do not, Ed fussed. I ought to know how to tell my own boys apart.

Glendon smiled fondly at him and regretted that he missed the past fifteen years of the elderly Earthian couple’s lives. He did not regret serving the crown or his people in the least but Ed and Margie were dear to Glendon’s heart and he would have liked to have seen to their comfort. How’s your wife and the baby? Ed rasped.

They are well. The baby is fifteen now and quite the young lady, Glendon told him, and got out pictures of Sara and Athena to show him. Ed had to put on his glasses, and he smiled and grunted in approval.

She looks just like you, he said.

After ten minutes Ed nodded off to sleep, so Margie took the opportunity to envelop Glendon in a motherly embrace. I’m so glad you came back home, Glen. I think he’s been hanging on, hoping to see you again. I don’t know what we would have done without your Echo; she’s been such a help to us.

I’m sorry I’ve been away.

No no; it’s all right! You were doing your duty, and very well from what Echo tells me. See, we brought your pictures here for him to look at. She indicated his bedside table which held several framed pictures of himself at the feed store and at the ranch and the island, and Gary Gentry in his army fatigues. Beside them was a picture of Margie and Echo in chairs on the front porch of the Gentry home. Land sakes, when your king and that big fellow told everyone you were all from space, everyone around Iron Post remembered you and we had people asking questions morning and night! Ed was so proud to be able to tell people about you at last.

How is he really? Glendon asked.

It’s not good, Glen. I don’t know how long he has. Some days he rallies a little, some days he’s a little worse. He’s just old and his poor old body’s just giving out on him. There’s nothing can be done about it. She patted her sleeping husband’s hand. He caught some sort of stomach virus a couple of years ago and he just hasn’t gotten his health back.

Glendon looked in alarm at the withered, wrinkled faces and the thin snowy white hair of the elderly Earthians. This was an expected part of Earth life. There was no waiting a hundred years or so to marry; there was no luxury in spending a few decades trying to decide which gifted task had the most appeal. Three hundred years was not middle-age to these people; forty was middle-aged to them. Glendon’s own daughter was older than that and still considered a youth. He understood at last the phrase, ‘time stands still for no man’, as it pertained to an Earthian.

When Ed awoke a few hours later Glendon was there. He told the Earthian man about the Armada and how it was doing and every detail he could describe at Ed’s bidding. He read passages from the Bible to him and even read from the Thuringi Book of Prayer. Ed was satisfied that Glendon held the same general beliefs as he did and especially liked the Book of Prayer quote Hold your brother's heart gently, for it will not be his your actions bruise but your own.

Glendon helped feed and bathe and turn him, doing for Ed what Gary Gentry might have done had he returned from Vietnam. Stuart gave him leave to stay with Ed and Margie for as long as they needed him. What Margie said was true, that evidently Ed had waited for his boy Glendon to return. His demise continued, and even Carrol had not been able to intervene successfully. She could alleviate the illnesses, but she was helpless to halt the ravages of time. Ed Gentry slipped into a coma two weeks after Glendon first stepped into his hospital room, and died a few hours later. Margie and the Garins were by his bedside.

He’s beyond pain and breath now, Glendon sent in a message to Stuart later. We are to accompany him to his gravesite, and then Echo and I would like to help Margie move into a retirement village where she says she will be more comfortable in her elder years.

Of course, Stuart agreed in a return note. He was a mighty friend of Thuringa and a fond memory for us. Yes, do whatever you can to be of assistance to Margie.

The funeral was a solemn affair. Many of the townspeople who still lived in Iron Post attended and remembered Glendon well. Word that he was back filtered out of Oklahoma, but he managed to see Ed to his final resting place and moved Margie into her new home before too much was made of the fact. She had a snug little cottage in a gated community that satisfied the Naradi’s concern for safety.

I’m just too old to stay in the house and try to keep it up; we retired long ago and the feed store isn’t open anymore, Margie explained to the Garins. All the customers went to bigger towns to the chain stores to get their feed and whatnot. Ed and I did well on our retirement and what you sent us. Glendon was mystified by her words, but did not ask why anyone would feed their livestock chains. We always got asked by folks when you were going to act again, and we said it was up to you, of course. My, you haven’t changed one single bit; still as handsome as ever.

He and Echo took their leave of her at last, in care of the professional staff at the retirement village. Echo would continue to check in on her from time to time. What did she mean, what I sent her? Glendon asked his daughter on the way back to New Thuringa.

Stuart heard that elderly Earthians who retire are sometimes hungry and impoverished, so he arranged for a healthy degree of coin to go to the Gentrys. He explained to them it was a part of your earnings from your films so their pride wouldn’t be wounded, thinking it was charity.

Was it a part of my earnings? Glendon asked. I wasn’t aware I was so well paid.

I suspect that it was out of the House of Ardenne although from what I’ve heard you would earn a salary worthy of Directive Four’s bounty now if you went before a camera again. It would be a worthy endeavor for it requires a lot of coin to feed a hungry Armada, Echo said. There was no coercion in her voice; she only stated a fact as she saw it.

Glendon went to Stuart upon their return to New Thuringa. I appreciate your regard for the well-being of the kind Gentrys, he said, and Stuart smiled and waved his hand.

They helped us in so many ways in our ignorant early days. It only seemed right to help them in return.

Stuart, how is the financial situation for New Thuringa? Is the House of Ardenne bearing the burden of coinage?

Yes, but the burden grows every day. Stuart sighed. I don’t know but that it may soon outstrip what our artisans can provide.

If there should be an opportunity for me to aid Thuringa and Margie Gentry by my works, I would welcome the endeavor, Glendon suggested.

Stuart was relieved. That would be a wonderful help! I know you are uncomfortable with some of the particulars but perhaps there is a way to achieve our goals without undue trouble for you.

With supplies coming through two transportals – the large one that could transport intelligent life as well as the smaller one that only handled inanimate objects – the Armada ships could finally be substantially improved upon after years of enduring worn parts and improvised components. Once on Earth everything would undergo a complete overhaul but for the now, people were relieved to simply be comfortable again.

All the cabins from deck 17 through 28 sustained damages from years of frozen pipes and the subsequent thawing and re-freezing of said pipes, an engineer on the Moze Ginty told Stuart. I am pleased to report all the pipes have been replaced at last.

Excellent! Stuart exclaimed. I do feel sorry that it took so long for everything to work out, but we could not rush the repair of the transportal.

I could not have even begun to repair the transportal, so time was Colonel Duncan’s to utilize as he needed, the engineer noted. We survived, and now we will enjoy consistently warm cabins and dry walls again along with fresh water to drink.

Merlin Duncan journeyed to Colorado to visit the Douglas family. While there, he and David Douglas went to Denver to tour the campus. They happened upon the university’s football program in the middle of summer training camp.

I say! Is that the thing they call ‘American Kellis’? Why, it isn’t much like Kellis at all, is it?

No, not according to what I’ve been told about it, David agreed. But it’s just as popular here as Kellis is to your people. It’s as close as America’s got, anyhow.

On a lark, Merlin walked out to investigate the game up close. The young men who tossed each other oblong balls slowly stopped their activity as the tall blond youngster with the thigh-length braid walked out onto the field.

Somebody toss that kid a ball, the head coach drawled. He wondered if all that size could be put to use. Merlin caught the ball easily and examined it curiously. Okay, kid; toss it back to that fella at the twenty yard line, he yelled.

Merlin looked around, hoping to find a clue as to what the man meant. He saw a ‘20’ at the other end of the field where a pair of young men stood. He held it the way he saw other players do and then threw it. It sailed eighty feet through the air and struck one of the boys on the shoulder. The boy yelped and looked around. The nearest people were seventy yards away.

Whoa, the head coach whispered in disbelief. I meant across the field at this twenty yard line, not that one down field. Louder, he called out, Come here, kid. I want to talk to you.

That evening, Merlin and David returned to the Douglas estate, where David