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The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations

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The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations
By: Benn Allen on 9/1/2002; 3:51 AM

This is an idea I've had for a comic book series. I've decided to publish it as prose instead. What you're about to read is the first part of Chapter 1. I've already begun the second part and will publish it as soon as I finish it and have it proofread. Hope y'all enjoy it.

The Karma Puzzle: Tyranny and Mutations

History

I

"Now dead, I lay me down to sleep"

As she took a sip of her drink, Jomir couldn't remember how many times she had read the Letarian verse. Too many times to be counted. But as a xenoanthropologist specializing in alien literature, and as a linguist, it was her job. And the truth be told, her pleasure, too. But the Letarian language could be a difficult one to translate. Too many words could have multiple meanings. In some cases almost contradictory meanings. The first line of the verse however, was pretty straightforward. It seemed to have been very carefully written to avoid confusion. It's just that it resembled so many children prayers taught by hundreds of other cultures. In the next line however, was a word or two that could be translated two different ways.

"Like a goddess of the Deep."

Or was it "deep" with a little "dee"? More importantly, was it "like a goddess" or "like the goddess"? And for that matter "The Deep" what? Ocean? Earth? Or could it even refer to space? The verse was written at a time when the Letarians were a spacefaring people, at least that's old it appeared to be. They had by that time not only discovered translightspeeds, but had also developed a celestial empire. The verse, which was untitled, was written (if dating methods were anywhere near accurate) towards the end of the Letarians' last dynasty: the Hiiammond Empire. Danneal Hiiammond, who, if records of the times were to be believed, was thought of as being a god. Jomir doubted Hiiammond's divinity. But a galactic religion must have help make it easier to rule over the hundred some odd solar systems that comprised the Hiiammond Empire. But eventually the Empire fell. What brought about its fall, no one quite knew.

There were theories of course. Each had its supporters and its flaws. It was important to learn what caused Hiiammond's Empire to fall though. Originally the Letarian Empire was a mere fifteen or twenty solar systems strong. Very few empires or federations or conglomerations of any sort were manageable beyond that size. Generally the larger the grouping, the more unwieldy they became. It was often too hard to maintain and carry out the will of the central governments. Far too often the planets on the empire fringes would form its own government. Some of these rebels would claim fealty to the central government. But that was only so they could continue to enjoy the benefits of being a member of the central government. Others would secede from the Union. Eventually, inevitably, the will of the central government and the will of the rebel governments would clash. This clash, along with various intragalactic bickering would help bring about the fall of any governments larger than five solar systems.

Then Danneal Hiiammond took control of the Empire. It wasn't long after Danneal was crowned Emperor that the Letarian Empire began to expand. The expansion was small at first. Two new systems were added in the first year of his reign. Then within the next five years ten more systems were added. In another seven years, Danneal Hiiammond had increased the size of the Letarian Empire to 104 solar systems. Some were annexed by galactic treaties, some by force. When war was necessary, there were remarkably few casualties. The battles the Letarians fought were things of beauty to the military mind. So precise, like surgery. The Letarian fleet knew exactly how - and where - to strike at their enemies to bring about a quick victory.

According to Letarian legend, Danneal Hiiammond ruled for 185 years. It was possible, Jomir thought, that Hiiammond's people were long lived. There were races found that lived for hundreds of years. But those races were a rarity. For the most part peoples rarely lived beyond a hundred years.

185 years. So far archeologists found little to disprove the number. It could be true. Might actually be true. Then, mysteriously, the Empire fell. From all records, the Empire collapsed. It wasn't a gradual collapse either. It seemed to have happened all at once. A hundred-and-four solar systems were almost simultaneously thrown into states of anarchy. What the hell happened?

Jomir blinked her eyes at the screen to refresh her eyes and her mind. She began reading to text again.

"And whosoever would right the wrongs Is damned to come along."

Was that supposed to be "damned" or "free"? The Letarians did have separate words for "damned" and "free". But they also had a word, that depending upon its context could mean either. Jomir couldn't help but wonder why that particular word - caharma - had been chosen. It clearly was chosen specifically, to imbue a specific meaning to the verse. But what was the author's intent? Then again, what linguistic evolution would create a word that would have such a diverse meaning - "damned" and "free"? But that was part of what made the Letarian language so worthy of study. It was one of the more complex languages ever encountered.

"And whosoever would right the wrongs"? What "wrongs", Jomir wondered. The surviving piece of verse never said. It was yet another mystery of the Letarian Empire.

The verse was found on the planet Thespin. An unremarkable desert world. According to Professor Americ Cyan there were indications that the world was more environmentally diversified at one point. But gradually it became a vast, arid world - a global sandpile. It was like a woman who at one point was beautiful and worked at maintaining her beauty. Then, after getting married, or perhaps even giving up on the idea of getting married, had let her beauty - her looks - go. Thespin, it seems, had given up and was waiting to die.

Astronomers had discovered Thespin some 80 years ago. It wasn't, however until ten years ago that it was identified as a member of the Hiiammond Dynasty. Five years after that survey probes were sent to examine the planet, to determine whether it merited further investigation. It did. Three years ago scientists arrived to begin studying it. Based on information provided by the probes an area in the Northern Hemisphere was chosen as the base for the scientists. That was where instruments detected what appeared to be man-made structures.

Professor Americ Cyan was among the first ones to land on Thespin. Cyan was a well-known, well-respected archaeologist. He was also of the top noted scholars on the Letarian civilization. A year and a half later Jomir was invited to join the archaeological team on Thespin. The invitation was based on her translation of various Letarian writings, regarded as the best, most accurate translations possible.

Then six months ago the military arrived. While the scientists quietly toiled away on Thespin a cold war had begun. The Tribet Empire and the Holasian Federation became involved in several border skirmishes. Things had not yet gotten bad enough that war had been declared. But it was only a matter of time before it would be. In the meantime the Holasian council sent a military detachment to Thespin to determine its value as an outpost and to establish a military presence on the desert world. General Beneka Monakul, a twenty-year veteran, commanded the detachment. Monakul had commanded several successful raids along the Atishin corridor during the Prosa Wars.

The scientists and the military unit maintained an uneasy alliance. Each side was suspicious of the other. But the scientists knew if Thespin was classified as a military outpost, they would be herded onto the first ship and deported, their research on the Hiiammond Dynasty halted, possibly forever.

Tension could have been worse - and would have been, had it not been for the fact that General Monakul and Professor Cyan seemed to have become friends. Very often the two men would dine together in the evenings. Even if they were not friends, they at least appeared to share a mutual respect.

Thus it was that while Monakul and his people continued to establish a military base, the scientists continued to dig up the ruins of what may have been Thespin's only city. And neither side interfered with the other.

"I leave behind skin here As a reminder of the year. A year of hope and sorrow; A year that became tomorrow."

Jomir re-read the second - and only other surviving - verse of the poem. Yes. She had indeed translated it properly. The stanza was a rarity in Letarian literature; there could be no other way to translate it. The question was "What did it mean?" How literally was it to be taken? If only more of the poem had survived. Of course, it's possible that more may yet one day be found, in a book or on a computer. But for now, only the two stanzas were known to exist.

Jomir began to save the stanzas onto a computer disc for storage and further study later. The verses would be compared to other Letarian literature to see if perhaps the verses helped shed light on other works, or vice versa. The comparison would take time, though. Perhaps a year or two.

The buzzer to her study sounded, disturbing Jomir's reverie. "Open," she said, a slight touch of irritation in her voice. In the doorway stood one of Monakul's people, dressed in full survival armor. The armor was necessary on Thespin when one had to walk the planet's surface. Not only was Thespin a desert, it was one in which a sandstorm was continuously blowing. The winds were often fierce enough to remove flesh from bones and to polish the bones in minutes. Full body armor was indeed a necessity on Thespin.

Jomir looked at the soldier. She had no idea who it was or if even she had ever seen him before. The soldier's armor hid his every physical feature, except his height, which was about average. Beyond the fact that the armor had suffered some slight damage from exposure to Thespin's sandstorms, there was nothing to mark the soldier's individuality.

"What is it?" Jomir asked in a husky voice tempered by smoke and alcohol and long periods of disuse.

"Professor Cyan wants you in the Main Plaza; the southeast section. Says it's important." The soldier shrugged. He didn't know if it was important or not. To him it probably wasn't important.

Jomir frowned slightly. Then sighed. She really didn't want to have to put on her survival gear and go outside. But if Cyan says it's important, it probably was important. "Tell him I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"I'm sorry ma'am. I was asked to wait for you. I have a grounder ready to take you there." The soldier looked Jomir over. She didn't look too bad, he thought, for an older woman. Black hair with a little grey in it, a bit too short for his tastes, though. And she could have lost a few pounds, too. But maybe if she would put on some make up and wear something other than that drab white uniform... Yeah, she might be someone worth trying to get into bed. That was assuming her organs were compatible with the soldier's.

Jomir stared blankly for a second or two, as if trying to comprehend a new situation. "Okay. Okay, uh..." "Etic. Private Megn Etic." "Private Etic. I'll be with you shortly. Let me get ready. Would you like some food; something to drink?" "No thank you, Professor. I'll wait here." It took a bit of effort on Etic's part to turn down her offer. He was a little hungry and very thirsty, but he was on duty. He would eat and drink his fill at the scheduled times and not before.

Etic then placed his hands behind his back and stood at attention. His eyes stopped seeing anything. He had become a statue, a machine that had no nothing to do for the time being.

"Okay. I'll be back," Jomir said as she began to shut off her computer, making sure she would lose nothing in the process. She then left the study to enter her bedroom to get ready to face the sandstorms of Thespin.

Etic stood silently, motionless until she returned. Then he turned smartly and escorted her to the grounder. From there he drove Jomir to the Main Plaza.

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RE: The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations
By: Chris Link on 9/2/2002; 2:16 PM

Interesting concept. I think you are smart expand the idea in prose. The ideas seem too complex to present in a comic book.

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RE: The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations
By: Benn Allen on 9/2/2002; 4:21 PM

Thanks Chris. I'm about to start work again on the second section of Chapter 1. (Got some dialogue I want to rewrite.) I think I could adapt the story into a comic book form. I've already thought through the page layout and panel breakdown of the first part I've posted here. The problem is it means omitting much of the background information presented here. I think, however, it could be presented elsewhere in the story in various lines of dialogue. Again, thanks for your comments, and for reading it.

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RE: The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations
By: Benn Allen on 9/7/2002; 3:10 PM

Here's the rest of Chapter 1, "History". I've got Chapter 2 plotted out. I should start work on it sometime this weekend. 'Til then, I hope y'all enjoy this.

II

The liquid Beneka Monakul poured into his cup was similar to coffee, but it had less caffeine and was usually served at room temperature. Monakul, who was about 6'5", very well muscled, with a sharply defined face surrounded by closely cropped grey hair and beard, looked into his drink. He then looked back at the computer screen, found his place, and continued to read the book that had been loaned to him. Behind him he heard the door to his office open. Without looking, he knew who it was. There was only one person who would even dare step in without ringing the buzzer, or at least knocking. Not turning, Monakul said, "Hello Plabes. What can I do for you, old friend?"

Lt. Colonel Miln Plabes had been Monakul's friend for fifteen years now. For the last ten he has been the General's aide. Plabes had no doubt that he could have been a general himself or gotten his own command. He just didn't aspire to it. He found it fascinating to study Monakul; how his mind worked; how the General instinctively arrived at the right decision at the right time. Plabes, like many others, was attracted by Beneka Monakul's charisma. For the Colonel it was all worth the stalling his own career.

"It's 'the diggers', Sir. They've sent a runner saying Professor Cyan has made a 'significant' discovery," Plabes reported mildly, with a twinge of annoyance in his voice. He did not like the scientists. To him, they had a smug air of superiority about them.

"Oh, really" Monakul had come to find the scientists' work intellectually stimulating. But then, Monakul had a somewhat eclectic, hungry mind. He loved to read, to study and listen to people. He was intellectually curious about a variety of things. It was part of what made him a successful military leader. It was part of what allowed him to befriend Professor Cyan, the head of the archaeological researchers.

"I suppose the Professor wants to show off his new find?" Monakul said with a smile. Plabes nodded without any enthusiasm.

"Is my grounder ready?" Monakul took a sip of his drink. "Yessir. Wirench is at this moment giving it a routine maintenance check," Plabes reported.

Monakul took a gulp from his cup. He looked into it again, and then slowly moved the cup in a circular motion. He raised the cup to his lips again and drained the cup of its content. He looked steadily at the older man who was his aide. Monakul nodded. "Well, let's not keep Professor Cyan waiting.

It didn't take long for the two old soldiers - and long time friends - to prepare to step outside into the perpetual sandstorm that scoured the surface of Thespin. Out of habit, both men wore their protective body armor - armor that guarded against the fierce sandstorms of Thespin - most of the time. As a General, Monakul never knew when an emergency would arise that would require his presence within the camp. At a moment's notice he was ready to step outside. All he needed was to put on was his helmet and gloves.

The two men strode to where the grounder sat waiting. Plabes held a laptop in a protective case under his arm. The computer contained various types of reports that required the General's attention. The ride to the Main Plaza would give Monakul time to get some of the reports read.

As they rode to the Main Plaza, Monakul could hear the howl of the wind and the humming whine of the grounder as it fought the wind to make progress towards its destination. Plabes handed him a laptop. It was already opened to the first report the General needed to go over. For a few minutes the General read it in silence. Plabes sat hawklike in the seat beside him, relaxed, eyes looking forward, seeing nothing, except, perhaps, for a prey visible only to himself. Then, indicating the laptop's screen, Monakul said, "This is the third reprimand this man has received, isn't it?" Without looking at the screen, Plabes nodded. "Yessir. There was another incident that also involved him being in a state of intoxication. The other was a matter of insubordination."

Monakul sighed, then stared out the window. Six months his people have been on this dead planet. Morale was falling apart. While he could understand how boredom could lead the soldier to getting drunk, the private was getting careless in his drinking - dangerously so. And the insubordination charge was no help to his cause. Discipline had to be maintained. Or Monakul would risk morale collapsing completely. "I want him confined to his quarters for the next thirty days. He is to be rotated to the bottom of the promotion list. He is to receive a pay reduction, also. Effective immediately," Monakul gave these orders to his aide, even as he entered them into the laptop.

Plabes looked at Monakul. "A bit harsh don't you think? I would think a transfer..."

"Would solve nothing. And it would encourage others to attempt the same thing."

"The same thing?" Plabes asked, looking at his superior. "Or something similar anyway," the General replied. "The boredom, the barrenness of this world is starting to get to our people. Thespin is practically all we talk about. That and going home. Unlike 'the diggers', as you call them, there's nothing of intrinsic interest to a warrior here on Thespin. A transfer would prompt others to try to find a way off world. No. My orders stand."

"Very well, sir."

Monakul cleared the screen and brought up the next report and began reading it. When he finished, he fixed his signature to it as a sign of approval.

"What...do you know of the Hiiammond Empire, Miln?" Monakul asked without prelude. He turned to face Plabes as he asked the Lt. Colonel that question.

There was a pause. What, exactly did the Hiiammond Dynasty have to do with the reports? Plabes searched his mind for the answer before responding. Plabes then said, "I thought you complained that our conversations were restricted to being about this planet?"

"I didn't. I observed that are conversations were centering on the topic of Thespin. But that's not the question. I asked about the Empire. Thespin was only one small part of it."

Plabes paused to absorb the difference. Then, "I know very little, sir." He paused again, as if trying to think of something about the Hiiammond Empire. "Mind if I ask, 'Why'?"

Monakul shrugged. "Idle curiosity. I've been reading a book about it."

"Oh, yes." Thoughtfully, Plabes again paused and then replied, "To the best of my knowledge, it was an unbelievably huge civilization - encompassing some 1,000 worlds and nearly a half-a-million races. For the longest time it was quite stable. Or so history tells us."

"And therein lies the mystery, old friend. Our Federation, for instance, has eight solar systems as members. We are fairly stable. But we do have the problems large kingdoms face. Internal strife, lack of communication between worlds, famine, terrorism, high crime rates, inflation, poverty, etc., etc. It gets worse the bigger we get. More people. Too many races. Some of whom can barely stand one another." Monakul smiled grimly. "Danneal Hiiammond solved all of that." There was awe in his voice. He began reading another report, having finished and signed off on the previous one. "The distances between systems," Monakul continued abstractly, "the number of people and races that have to be governed: that is why large governments fail my friend. How did he do it?"

"I've always heard that he was cloned, sir. That has always seemed the most reasonable explanation to me," Plabes said calmly.

Monakul began reading another report. He shook his head. "No. No..." He looked at Plabes. "In the first place, there's no evidence that the Letarians had ever perfected cloning techniques. At least not creating clones of people. Besides, while a clone might physically resemble Hiiammond, but it would not be the man himself. More importantly, it would extremely hard to hide the existence of a clone. We would know by now if he had been cloned or not. Or at least have a hint of it. There is no evidence of it."

He finished the report and started another. Then he looked at Plabes again. "The clone would be raised in a different environment than the original. It would have different life experiences, a different outlook on things. It would be almost impossible to do it otherwise." he said pedantically. "No. He wasn't cloned."

Plabes smiled at his younger friend. "Then what is your theory, Sir?"

"Lt. Wirench, how much further?" Monakul asked as he signed off on another report and called up the next one. "Hmm. A communiqué from the Council," he mused to himself, looking at the laptop screen. "They're due to reach a decision on Thespin in the next two days."

"A few minutes, sir," was Wirench's response. "Thank you," Monakul said absently. "I don't know. Magic, perhaps?" he said mischievously. He smiled again. This smile had a trace of humor in it. Then, becoming serious again, he said, "There are things in the Letarians science, portions of their technology, our scientists don't even understand. It's as though they developed different laws of physics from us."

Plabes snorted. "That's impossible! The universe was put together in one - and only one - way by the Maker. Science cannot change that fact."

"One way that we know of, my friend. Science is a learning process. What is known to be true today, may not be tomorrow."

"That the sky is blue, that I need air to breathe, food to eat, these are truths. If I throw a rock in the air, it will fall to the ground. These things will always be true."

"True," Monakul agreed. "But the science, the explanation for these things could change. Or someone else could develop a new theory about why things are the way they are."

"You mean create new myths?" Monakul laughed at Plabes' response as the grounder slowed to a halt.

"I wouldn't call them 'myths', my friend.

The Main Plaza was a reddish grey structure that looked like it could have been made of stone or metal. It tended to be composed of straight lines and angles; almost no curves were part of its architecture. About a third of it was still buried by sand - tons and miles of sand. The parts that were exposed were kept free of sand by properly calibrated and precisely positioned force screens. Dotting the landscape around the Main Plaza screen generators could be seen. So could beings of various races working in vehicles and on foot in armor to dig out the rest of the building. Because of the sandstorms, it was a long, tedious process. It had taken two years just to excavate the portion that had been brought into the open. During that time six people had lost their lives. Two of them were soldiers under Monakul's command.

On the inside there were several rooms that had collapsed, filled with white-brown sand. It would takes months - at least - to clean out most of those rooms. The archaeologists, anthropologists and other scientists were waiting almost impatiently for the excavations to end. They wanted to know what wonders those areas held.

One of the screens was deactivated to allow Monakul's grounder to enter. For a few brief seconds a violent windstorm whipped through the opening in the invisible force screens. The workers within the screens - those who either did not take the time or have the time to lie down - were knocked to the ground. Some held onto the screen generators and other heavy equipment to keep from being blown around. As soon as the grounder was safely within the screens' perimeter, the deactivated screen was reactivated and the workers quickly began cleaning out the generators as well as the airlines to their armor, removing machine threatening dust particles.

Wirench opened the door to the grounder and stepped out. She then walked to the passenger door and opened it, allowing General Monakul and Colonel Plabes to exit the vehicle. As Monakul stepped out, those members of his unit working along with the scientists, stopped what they were doing and saluted their superior. Monakul returned the salute. Nodding, he said, "Carry on." He and Plabes began walking to the door of the Main Plaza.

"Incoming!" a voice called out. Everyone inside the perimeter whirled around to look at the outside world. Another grounder could be seen making its way to the Plaza. Again, a screen was deactivated. Gently, but firmly Monakul pushed Plabes to the ground. For a few seconds the two men lay on the ground waiting for the screens' integrity to be restored. As soon as the screen was restored, Monakul and Plabes rose to their feet. Sand fell off their backs and shoulders. Wirench and two other soldiers hurriedly approached the two officers to check and clean their armor and air filters. After securing Plabes and Monakul's equipment, they then began to do the same for their own protective gear and each other. Monakul watched as the driver of the newly arrived grounder exited his vehicle and moved to the passenger door. Looking at the markings on the soldier's armor, Monakul recognized the driver as Megn Etic, a private of little consequence. Sturdy, dependable, that was about all that could be said of the private. A good soldier, but not much else.

Monakul studied the passenger who was helped out of the grounder. A civilian, he knew by the color and type of protective gear worn. Short, a little stocky, almost feminine in her movements. He quickly recognized the body language of the passenger - Jomir. He began walking towards her.

"Professor Jomir?" He bowed slightly toward the xenoanthropologist. "How have you been?" Behind her protective mask Jomir smiled. She remembered that she had another date (such as there could be on a planet like Thespin) with Monakul later in the week.

"Busy. The works we've found here... So many new writings that have to be translated. We've learned so much about the Letarian society under Hiiammond. Things we've never thought we'd learn. For a world so far away from the mainstream of society, Thespin has proven to be a treasure trove for us." Her voice had a gushing, enthusiastic lilt to it.

Behind his protective mask, Monakul smiled. "I'm glad to hear it, Jhon. Shall we find out what Americ wants to show us?" He bowed slightly towards her. She returned the bow.

The four - General Beneka Monakul, Professor Jhon Jomir, Lt. Colonel Miln Plabes and Private Megn Etic - began to cross the few yards leading into the Main Plaza. Lt. Wirench did a quick check and lockdown on the General's grounder. Then hurried to catch up with the other four.

As the five neared the entrance to the Main Plaza, one of two non-descript people guarding the door, opened it for the General and his followers. Monakul said nothing to the guards. They were only doing what they were supposed to be doing. His only acknowledgment of their presence was a salute, which they gave back to the General.

After the door was shut, the four soldiers removed their protective masks and gloves. Jomir removed the entire protective gear she wore. She knew that the odds were, whatever Americ had found, she would be inside the Main Plaza for quite some time.

The interior was lit partly by lights brought in by the scientists, and partly by light sources the Letarians had built into the building. There were still patches of darkness in some corners that one could barely see into. But for the most part, the Plaza was well illuminated.

Turning to Jomir, Monakul said, "Oh, by the way, thank you for loaning me that t book."

"What do you think of it?" Jomir asked Monakul.

"Beneka apparently likes it. He's spent what spare time he's had reading it," noted Plabes. Was it Jomir's imagination, or was there a tinge of jealousy in the Colonel's voice? She had heard rumors about the Colonel. Nothing that was said had ever been substantiated, mind you. Still…

They began walking through the main corridor. Monakul took a few steps to organize his thoughts. "Interesting. I'm not sure I agree with some of the conclusions being drawn. For one thing, my sense is that the Hiiammond Dynasty must have been a benevolent one. I personally do not see how an oppressive Empire could have lasted as long as Danneal Hiiammond's Empire seems to have lasted. It's inconceivable to me."

"Really? Primus 4 has had quite a repressive regime in charge of its entire planet for almost a hundred years. It has been reasonably stable."

"That 'oppressive regime', as you call it, is one of the main reason Primus 4 has not been invited to join our Federation," countered Monakul. "But I will concede, to a degree, the government's stability. But only to a degree. There is a difference between one world being ruled by an iron heart and more than a hundred planets under such rule."

"A slight difference," muttered Plabes.

"Personally," Jomir began. "I don't think there's enough evidence to say one way or another."

"But what," asked Plabes, "have you gleaned from the literature you have been studying?"

"From what I've read, the people seemed satisfied, if not outright happy with their lives and how the Empire was being run. However, there is this one verse I was just working on..."

She was interrupted by the appearance of a slender built being covered in long, reddish fur. It wore a loose, white and yellow tunic with insignias of sundry sorts on it. The being was shorter than the people it was walking quickly towards were. "Ah.Goodtoseeyou. Goodtoseeyou." The voice, high pitched and very rapid, belonged to Professor Americ Cyan. Somehow the Professor seemed more excited than was normal for him.

Visibly, Plabes cringed. He found the scientist very annoying. That voice. The way he gesticulated and the way the Professor smelled. Like an unwashed dog. Disgusting. How could the others stand to be near him?

"We arrived as soon as we could," Jomir said. "What have you found?"

Cyan's face brightened, like a child with a new toy he was anxious to show off. "Isgoodnews. Verygodnews. WehavefinishedourexcavationofRoom12."

"Oh?" prompted Monakul. Plabes cringed even more. The way the Professor's sentences were one long word...it made communicating with him and every other Delvan an exercise in patience. More precisely, it taxed one's patience to the extreme. Conversations could take twice as long because of the effort it took to discern just what a Delvan was saying.

"Themachines! Webelievetheyarecomputers. Ofwhatsortwedonotknowyet."

"But you're sure they are computers?"

"Yesyesverysure."

"I suppose you have begun translating the inscriptions?"

"Some. NotallProfessorJomir. Wewaitforyou."

"Lead the way, my friend," Monakul urged.

"Yesyes. Thiswaycome."

Professor Cyan scurried down the corridor, quickly leading the others down a few corridors and a few turns until they came to a door at the end of a corridor. The door had a large, alien script painted across the top quarter of it. To the left was a tiny collection of buttons - about twenty buttons in all - on a panel. Cyan paused before the door in what he meant to be a dramatic fashion. Then he spun around to face the others. Cyan turned so quickly, it looked almost as if one moment he faced the door, the next he faced his companions. The brightness still had not left his face. If anything, his face was brighter.

Jomir studied the writing on the top half of the door. Translating it, she intoned, "Top...Security Clearance...Only."

"Does this mean we'll be arrested if we go in?" Etic quipped. The others looked at him. On Cyan's face was a lack of comprehension. Jomir smiled a little at the joke. Monakul, Plabes and Wirench had stern, slightly disapproving looks on their faces. The looks on his superiors' faces weakened the smile on Private Etic's face to a half-hearted grin. He shrugged a bit helplessly. Everyone turned their attentions away from the Private and focused once again on Americ Cyan.

"I assume Americ, that people are in there already," Jomir observed.

"Ohyesyes. Ofcourse. Howelseweknowaboutthecomputers?"

"Well?" she prompted.

Instantaneously he was looking at the door again. "Yesyes. Inwego. Thiswayplease."

Punching in a memorized sequence of the buttons next to the door, Cyan, entering the proper code, opening the door. It slid hesitantly, as if unused to the action, or reluctant to share its inner secrets with more strangers. Cyan stood to one side of the door and motioned his friends inside the room



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RE: The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations
By: Benn Allen on 9/7/2002; 4:05 PM

The room they saw was filled with machinery and scientists. Beyond that, it was desolate in an almost sterile way. The scientists were like scavenging animals around the machines. Some were taking notes. Some were recording images of the machines. Others were timidly turning the machines on. Many of them acted as if they expected the activation of the machines to bring about some form of Armageddon on them.

"Should they be doing that?" asked Monakul.

"Doingwhat?" asked Cyan.

"Turning the machines on," Plabes replied testily.

"Ohisokay. Theyrecognizetheword'on'. Theyonlyturnmachineson. Nothingelse.'

"Still, if they do not know what the machines were desig..." "We've seen plenty of the Letarians' computers, General," another voice said. It belonged to a tall, spindly green being. Its skin was like polished plastic.

"Doctor Antwa," Monakul turned, acknowledging the newcomer, "I realize that your people are reasonably well versed in Letarian technology. But surely there is no danger in being cautious."

Jomir stepped forward to stand between the scientist and the soldier. "Letarian computers have universally been found to be quite benign, Beneka. There is not a documented account of one shorting out or blowing up or causing any other disaster. Plus, as you can see, some of these people here are highly qualified translators. All in all, General, turning them on is safe," she assured Monakul. Plabes had walked up to the other three, just as Jomir was finishing her sentence.

"There's always room for exceptions," Plabes said darkly.

"Pleaseplease. Isatimeofjoynow." Cyan joined the four. "Lookaroundplease. Jomirpleaseseeifyoucantranslatesomeofthesewords."

"I'd be happy to," she said graciously.

While Wirench and Etic stood on either side of the door, the others spread out. Jomir, Antwa and Americ Cyan went to the nearest console. Monakul and Plabes wandered off in another direction. Plabes was grateful to get away from the Delvan. Now he could stop breathing through his mouth.

Jomir slowly paced along the computer banks. Quickly, she mentally translated the words on them. She stopped before one. It seemed to be a central bank, one that co-ordinates the others. Cautiously, she ran her hands over the control panel and began typing in commands. Each step of the way, she read the words that appeared on the screens before pushing another set of buttons. Within five minutes, she stopped what she was doing and stared at the screen. She read and then re-read the words that appeared before her.

She took out her mini-comp and entered some data into it. She waited for a few minutes as the mini-comp digested the information fed into it. It confirmed her translation of the words that appeared on the screen.

All the while, Cyan moved restlessly around her. Yet he did not dare disturb her, despite his impatience. But he very nearly couldn't contain himself.

Jomir looked at the Letarian computer screen again. "This can't be right. It must be a hoax," she whispered.

"Whatwhat?"

"According to this," she pointed to the screen, "The computers in this room were among Dannael Hiiammond's personal computers. "This," she indicated the room they were in, "was his home."

Antwa cocked his head. "Are you sure you are not misinterpreting those words? You yourself have noted how difficult Letarian is to translate."

Cyan looked at Jomir pleadingly. If what she said was true... Cyan would become famous. He could become rich. He could... he could... No! There had to be an error. It was too much to hope for.

Jomir shook her head. "No. I’m certain of the translation. The mini-comp confirms it. Whoever wrote this wrote it very specifically. They wanted to eliminate any possible ambiguities." She shook her head again. "It's a hoax. It's got to be. How could a computer room be Hiiammond's home?"

"Ifsoveryexpensivehoax," opined Cyan. He was somewhat saddened by the reality Jomir was presenting him. Of course it was a hoax. There was no way this was actually connected to the great Emperor, Dannael Hiiammond. It wasn't possible.

"Cyan's right. What would be the purpose of such a hoax? To create this room and to install these computers, hell, to erect this Plaza, would cost more than it would be worth," Antwa noted. Americ Cyan lookewd hopeful at the doctor's words.

"On the other hand, Doctor," said Jomir. "We are light years from the center of the Hiiammond Empire. We've discovered the power center decades ago. Novid is too far away from here."

"ThereisevidencethatNovidwasabandonedafterawhile," Cyan said hopefully.

"But we're not certain that Novid was abandoned, Americ. The evidence is slight. The Letarians could be strict traditionalists. And Novid was the traditional home world: the center of Letarian power for centuries. There's no evidence of a catastrophe that would have necessitated a move to Thespin," Jomir countered.

Other scientists, overhearing the debate, began to join in the conversation. "We don't know everything about the Letarian history. There are gaps in our knowledge, after all," one observed.

"Besides," said another. "Danneal Hiiammond broke 'tradition' by greatly enlarging the Letarian Empire."

"That's hardly the same thing."

"Maybe not. But why does there have to have been a catastrophe on Novid for Hiiammond to decide to shift the center of power?"

"Yeah. He may have been planning an expansion. Thespin might have been the best world to act as a base of operation."

"Thespin is in the middle of nowhere. Why would anyone choose to use it?"

"The Council is thinking about using it."

"Yeah, they've brought in their soldiers here just for that purpose."

"Oh come on! They're not going to evacuate us! Thespin is useless to them."

And so the arguments continued.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Monakul and Plabes walked up to a bank of computers that sat next to another room. Some scientists and a couple of translators were looking over the machine before them.

"How long has it been since you've opened up this room?" Monakul asked no one in particular.

"About an hour," one scientist said without really acknowledging the General's presence. She was too engrossed in the information the translator and technician were getting from the computer before them.

"What's in this other room?"

"We don't yet. We're about to go in - we hope," the scientist said, still more interested in the metal construction before her, than in the flesh and blood being behind her.

From the left side of the door, someone said, "We've got it! We're ready to go in."

"The code? Alright!" the female scientist said, finally acknowledging someone other than the computer before her. She and another scientist and a technician and translator moved towards the door.

"Mind if we come along?" asked Monakul. He had impulsively decided he wanted to be among the first to step into the room - be one of the first people in centuries to enter it.

"Sure. Whatever," the scientist said absently. She and her compatriots picked up some portable light units and checked to make sure the lights were working properly.

Monakul and Plabes fell in behind them. They caught up with the diggers just as the door opened.

They shined the lights over the room they had just entered. The effect was eerie. They could see it was different from the one the left, but they could only see bits and pieces of it. From what they could see, however, there were fewer computers in it. Four altogether. The ceiling had pipes of cables and wires creating a web above them. The pipes all eventually lead to the far side of the room. A sheet of what appeared to be glass partitioned one half of the room from the other. The glare, reflected from their flashlights, made it difficult to discern what was on the other side of the glass.

Inside the glass was what appeared to be a throne-like chair. On the chair sat a mummy that was a yellowish brown in color. It leaned slightly to one side, like the person it was had passed out from a night of getting drunk. Somehow, the mummy, skin thin and tight over the skeleton it covered, conveyed an aura of despair. Above its skull was a metal cap that was suspended from the ceiling. Surrounding the mummy were various wires, some still connected to the long dead person. Others hung limply around the body and throne. The wires lead to machinery behind the throne.

"What the hell is that?" someone muttered.

Monakul approached the glass. He stared, fascinated, at the mummified remains. "He must have been a prisoner. They must have tortured the poor bastard before he died."

"This set up is too elaborate to be a torture chamber," one scientist noted smugly. Leave it to a layman to draw an obviously incorrect - and stupid - conclusion. Of course, that didnit explain why there was a mummy behind a plate of glass in the middle of a computer room.

"What do you think it is, then?" asked Plabes.

The scientist said nothing. He had no idea what it was. He only knew what it wasn't. And it wasn't a torture chamber. Was it?

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Outside the room, after getting the approval of the translator, one of the remaining scientists pushed a button on the computer console next to the mummy chambers.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Monakul stepped closer to the glass partition. He was transfixed by the tragic figure on the other side of the glass. He almost felt a kinship with him. But why, he couldn't say.

Suddenly the room erupted with the sounds of mechanical life. There was a hum in the air, gradually getting stronger. The lights the Letarians installed in the room flashed on, temporarily blinding everyone in the room.

On the other side of the partition, electricity began to arc throughout the room, like it was seeking something to connect with. The sparks grew in intensity, as if the electricity was getting frustrated at not finding what it sought.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The argument stopped suddenly, unresolved. Everyone in the computer center could hear the humming sound and the crackling of electricity coming from the other room. The sounds were fierce and threatening. The scientists' attention was turned in its direction. "What the hell?"

Wirench and Etic, having noted that the sounds came from where General Monakul had gone, ran towards the room. Their weapons, though they would probably be useless, were drawn from their holsters.

The scientists, drawn by curiosity, also began to run towards the room.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Only Monakul had not backed away from the glass partition. The General was still transfixed by it all. Why, he would never be able to say. All his life, all his training was such that he never hesitated to act whenever he even sensed a dangerous situation. Surely, Plabes would think later, Beneka could sense the danger in the room. Why did he stay? Was it that he was blinded the sudden light? Plabes never knew for sure.

As Wirench and Etic rushed into the room, the electricity seemed to back up out of the mummy's room and travel back through the pipes, past the partition. Then all at once it arced out and downward, shooting a green bolt of lightning on Beneka Monakul's forehead. As the bolt of electricity struck him, the General screamed - briefly.

At that moment Jomir entered the room. Seeing the electrical assault on Monakul, she screamed, "Beneka!" Plabes cried out the same thing barely a second after her.

Without a word, as one, Wirench and Etic fired hot red beams of light from their weapons into the pipes above. They began to systematically destroy the strands of the metal webbing. As the strands fell, so the sparks of electricity began to die out.

When at last the bolt faded, Monakul collapsed. Jomir and Plabes rushed to his fallen body. They frantically began to pry the protective armor from the General's body, ignoring the heat of the metal. After removing the armor, they began to administer resuscitation techniques on the General.

Into a comphone, Wirench barked orders for an emergency medical team to be dispatched to the Main Plaza. Her commands, the desperate sobs and gasps from Jomir and Plabes and the mechanical hum that almost seemed to be almost happy, satisfied, were the only sounds left in the room. Silently, everyone waited for the next assault.

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RE: The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations
By: Luigi Novi on 9/18/2002; 7:36 AM

I read the first part, Benn, and it seemed pretty cool. I dont' read a lot of science fiction outside of Peter David, but it's interesting to see what's going to happen. I like the focus on language and archaeology. And if you change your mind and decide to publish it as a comic (since when can comic books not have complex stories, Chris?), I'd love to design the characters.

Just one question, if this planet's name is Thespin, does that mean its inhabitants were all actors?

Or were you trying to borrow the planet Bespin from "Star Wars" and had a lisp that day? :)

Anyway, I still have to read the second part. I'll post after I've done so.

Nice job!

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RE: The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations
By: Chris Link on 9/19/2002; 12:15 AM

I could certainly be wrong Luigi, but for the record I didn't say that comics could not have a complex story. It was my opinion that THIS story is too complex for a comic. But I'm beginning to change my mind. It certainly has a comic book flavor to it. In any case, I'm enjoying it Benn.

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RE: The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations
By: Benn Allen on 9/19/2002; 7:24 PM

I admit, I'd still like to see it published in comics form. Though I also admit I've been having fun writing it out as prose. One of these days, Luigi, I'll have to work up some characters sketches and let you see them, then see what you can do with 'em.

"Thespin" admittedly was taken from "thespian", but there was never really any ulterior motive in that choice. It just sounded cool to me. Or rather, it sounded right. There may be a subconscious basis for deciding on it, but I haven't actually taken time out to analyze it. I should.

I hope, Chris, "the comic flavor" is too strong or too bad. I hope that other influences show up in it. After all, I do read other things than sci-fi and comics. (Currently, I'm working on Sinclair Lewis' Dodsworth.) Still, as long you guys are enjoying, I suppose it doesn't matter.

And again, I'm glad you're enjoying it. I am at work on Chapter 2. It may be awhile before I publish it, though. Another week or two, I think.

Thanks for your comments and for reading it!

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RE: The Karma Puzzle: Book 1 - Tyranny and Mutations
By: Benn Allen on 9/20/2002; 11:35 PM

Hey Luigi! I've been thinking about it all day, and... yeah. I think I would like to see your take on the characters. So, whenever you're ready...

(For those keeping track, I've just added eight more pages [on my Word processor] to Chapter 2. Whew! This is gonna be a long 'un!)

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