|
Foreword Kest 13, 1556 Site of Healing, Loresh Cave System, Frozen North Liars. I am not quite bitter, only tired. Truthtellers, no more, no less. The anotechs speak their words directly into my mind in a tone steeped in childish innocence. I don’t know why they insist on portraying themselves with the speech and temperament of young humans still in their first decade, but they have done so for centuries. My name is Jalna Seltan, and I feel many things must be explained, so I tolerate the anotechs’ antics. I must prepare this work to share with the Queen, for she will need the information to face the future. Besides, I am too tired to argue with them. Three times I have tried to change the title of this section to Letter of Introduction or something equally descriptive, but the anotechs are stubborn when they want to be. It is a quirk and curse I attribute to my father, Sebastian Seltan, creator of the anotechs, which means “god machines” in the language of my people. Genius, the anotechs crow, nice man. Madman, I answer. My body lies paralyzed here in a back corner of Loresh, deep in the Frozen North, as it has lain since I fell here about two months ago. This is the closest I have been to death in more than a century. No doubt a week or two passed while the anotechs reconstructed my body and another few weeks faded while they returned my memories. It may yet be two or three weeks before I can rise. On Allei the fifteenth in the year 1556 of Reshner’s recorded history, approximately a month and a half after the Battle for Loresh, which gave Reshner her new queen, I returned to the battlefield. During the battle through the underground cave system, I sensed a darkness I have chased across this galaxy and the neighboring one for some eight hundred years. Evil Ones, Dark Ones, Meanies, Rogues. Yes, very inventive titles all, I tell the anotechs. Stop interrupting. I tracked the Rogues or Dark Ones – as I shall henceforth call them, for they do not deserve the title anotechs – for four days, until I cornered their current slave. The Kalastan word for “dark ones” is dalonos. (Dah-lon-os) He, the slave, hails from the planet Mitra, but he retains little of what he once was, just as I retain little of what I once was on Kalast. We fought for hours with weapons and anotech powers. My will and control proved stronger, though not by much and not enough to destroy him completely. Having some eight centuries experience on the slave yet not prevailing disturbs me. Do not be deceived that my body resembles a human girl-child of thirteen years. How I wish the slave was misled by such a simple thing! At any rate, the Dalonos’ slave will return, which is why I must heal quickly and return to the Queen. She must hear this story, though I hesitate to call it that, for it is history, her history. Her brother must also be warned. One needs no anotechs to know Reshner’s fate lies in the hands of her young rulers, all of them, even the third if he still lives. It is strange to hear one’s own voice speak of things previously unknown, but the anotechs have chosen my voice to describe these events. I suppose it is natural, for they and I are one. You like. Perhaps. I have twice gone through this account of Reshner’s history to date, though the anotechs report new stories every hour as the scouts return from various points around this pretty planet. What follows will be only the stories the anotechs and I agree the Queen must hear to gain an adequate picture of her family’s recent history. A thousand more stories I would like to include, and twice that or more the anotechs would like to include, fell victim to the need for brevity. Before beginning, I must point out some observations. A potential flaw in the work is the lack of attention given to the countless races and other categories of beings and creatures populating the universe. The main focus will be on Reshner. (Resh-ner means restful place or place without fear.) The small sampling included does not begin to do justice to the creativity of the creator gods. Indeed, there is a heavy emphasis on humans, though my race is neither the strongest nor the weakest of the Thinking Beings. The anotechs and I must both claim responsibility for this. We did not make the decision lightly, but it must be this way. Instinct and experience say the Queen’s greatest trials will stem from GAPP, the Galactic Alliance of Populated Planets, and the majority of their member states are human dominated because their definition of “populated” is ridiculously narrow-minded. I will explain only a few of the name pronunciations. People from different regions are generally free to make up their own interpretations. (As you have seen, my comments will be in parenthesis, so as not to too thoroughly disrupt the flow.) If I explained every name in detail, this would be a rather boring account, but some names and their pronunciations must be explained, for to pronounce it differently would change the meaning. Then again, some names are merely names. I suspect the anotechs are largely responsible for the fact that Reshner often reflects my homeworld of Kalast. For example, consider the months; Reshner’s twelve months: Idela, Lanolin, Jira, Enis, Retsi, Zeri, Temen, Allei, Pirua, Kest, Lalri, and Ferrim are all thirty days long, though that does not follow the lunar patterns around here. To what extent Reshner has become the new Kalast, I do not know, but the answer may be revealed in time. Much emphasis also rests on expression, especially eyes. There is a timeless truth that the human soul can be glimpsed through the eyes. Though I personally have yet to see the full depths of the human soul, I have seen cruelty, hate, passion, love, and a hundred thousand other emotions announced from those twin orbs. I fear the obsession with eyes is something the anotechs have learned from me. Yup, says one anotech. Right on, declares another. Give the– If you three are not silent until I finish this letter, I’ll blast you all to oblivion, health setback or no. My threats are idle and empty, for now. Temper. Temper. I ignore Calez; he sends a sensation through my head that translates to an impish grin. Herein, the accounts of violence may be somewhat sanitized. The Queen has seen enough violence in her young life. I have no wish to further disturb her dreams with bloody accounts from the past. It is true that the anotechs and I report much pain and even death, but to delve into each drop of blood that falls would be inanely cruel. I must return to the Queen soon. The anotechs say her dreams deepen and worsen by the day. One thing I will deny influence over is the anotechs’ occasional tendency towards melodrama. I have made them tone down a few descriptions, but there’s not much I can do if they go back and change them again. As I have more important things to do, like heal, the cheeky little buggers know they can get away with it. You still like. I give up.
|