Page 72 of The Space Traveller's Lover
Shaillah’s bewildered face glows with the intensity of her reviving soul. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined the extent that Rothwen would go to be with her. Then her tumultuous thudding heart starts aching so badly that her chest feels as if it’s collapsing, trying hard to understand why he has gone away without even an explanation.
“Will he ever come back?” she wonders.
“Wherever he is, I’m sure he is thinking of you!” Athguer tells her, without a shadow of a doubt in his deep-set sharp eyes.
PARTV
CHAPTER 30
TAKEOVER
“What has to happen will happen.”
“I can feel the space-time waves vibrating through my body,” Kuzhma-Or roars as he surveys the gleaming surface of the UniverseScope platform while Athguer is sitting by his side.
Like a perfectly choreographed squadron of giant incandescent rockets, the Rom-Ghenshars’ Invincible Grand Fleet suddenly emerges at the outskirts of the extended ring of iced rocky objects surrounding the solar system, the Oort Cloud. In a seamlessly synchronised manoeuvre, the milliards-strong mothership fleet spreads out into a vast semicircular formation. Their fuselage rings blaze in an intense blue glow as they widen and swivel until they lock into position. Expanding over ten astronomical units wide and five units deep, the swarming mothership fleet seems bound to infiltrate the solar system’s defenceless outer domains.
Kuzhma-Or tilts his head back and breathes in deeply in infinite self-satisfaction.
“Faultless!” he booms. “Can’t wait to reach Ankjeshur. Our biggest, most challenging mission yet.”
“Ah, the great giant globular cluster! Rothwen will conquer all of it in no time,” Athguer proudly declares.
As Athguer mentions Rothwen’s name, they get a message from him with his current coordinates. Immediately, Athguer zooms in onto the precise location with a thought-command.
The seemingly endless sleek hull of a glistening spaceship points right at them, its sharp nose tilting upward, poised at a steep angle. The rows of flickering orange spotlights along its smooth elongated body make it look like the giant lead mothership is softly breathing while the thick rim of its triple synchrotron rings, flashing in an incandescent blue glow, makes it look like it’s about to jet off.
Like a stalking predator, the massive spaceship, five hundred kilometres from stem to stern and one hundred kilometres in diameter at its widest, is ominously hovering by the dark side of the Moon, unseen and unsuspected by its potential victims.
“Ei Reishojen” (The Prestige). Athguer jumps from his seat. “He has brought inThe Prestige!”
But Kuzhma-Or hardly reacts, stoically raising one of his thick eyebrows. “Hmm. As I expected,” he rumbles. “Our master navigator never leaves anything incomplete. He never flees from anything—nothing!” Kuzhma-Or stands up, his face flaring up in an exultant gesture. “That is why he’s so infuriatingly good.”
“I guess he brought his commanding mothership to finish here even quicker,” Athguer surmises.
“Yes, Athguer, in whatever way he is thinking of finishing it.”
“We have agreed with Zula-Or. We know what is going to happen, don’t we?”
“I’ll reserve judgement until we leave for Omega Centauri. But in any case, he’ll have to face the Great Ancestors Council for any of his misdeeds.” Kuzhma-Or glowers while exhaling loudly.
They keep tracking Rothwen’s movements as he sets off fromThe Prestigein one of the departure-crafts. The breathtaking speed he’s flying at tells them they won’t have to wait long before seeing him entering the UniverseScope. The glowing countdown swiftly rolls back from T-200 (seconds).
Rothwen’s impetuous entrance electrifies the confined air of the arena. A muffled metallic crackle spreads throughout the dense atmosphere as the guardian robots rise in unison when he suddenly walks in and directlylooks at them with his penetrating gauging gaze. With a brief thought-command, he orders them all to sit down.
Rothwen’s eyes blaze in an unflinching glow as he stares expectantly at Kuzhma-Or.
“Seya” (Welcome)! Kuzhma-Or greets his master navigator with a tense, albeit forbearing glare.
“Ai yei seinekh, Yei Boishen” (All my respects to you, My Commander), Rothwen declares, bowing in deep reverence before walking towards Kuzhma-Or and Athguer in long fast strides.
As Kuzhma-Or and Rothwen greet each other, crossing their hands over their chests in their solemn army salute, their past quarrels and disagreements seem to be long-forgotten. The welcoming smile from Athguer as they embrace each other softens the mood even further.
“You are right on time, Rothwen. Most of the reconstruction has finished. We are ready to depart.” Kuzhma-Or cheers.
“I was making sure everything is in place for our planned departure and our next mission,” Rothwen announces, his smug glare of total confidence fully pleasing Kuzhma-Or.
“Not much of a challenge for you,” Athguer quips while looking admiringly at Rothwen.
