CAPTION:
Transport Ship
Hauling Business .
FADE IN:
Chartered to undisclosed location
Around a tactical/dinner TABLE:
(late 50s, expansive)
... so I was dragged into the Duke's Throne Room, with all that precious wood, and the Courtiers and their Ladies and their jewels, and that traitorous oafish Chamberlain accuses me of scamming him!
Sipping his Guild-Regulation Beverages Container:
Hard to believe he's one of the most veteran Traders.
(mid 20s)
Been 'round since the Guild formed, I heard.
(eyes closed)
The Knights of the Guard all pointed their swords and spears at me, while the Duke explained at length how a man's word was his life's breath, and how I, a foreign low-born friendless Peddler, was gonna be beheaded for my foolish daring!
Sipping his FLASK:
Now we know why he's called 'Legendary'!
(chuckles)
By Hardin, each time he tells it, the tale grows!
Sotto, to the others:
(grins)
Then I activated my lucky charm, hidden inside my silver Medallion!
(sips his DRINK)
There we were, the Chamberlain and me, in glorious life-size holovid, arguing about how he was, or was not, going to pay me for my Nucleics, because the simpletons of the Court were too dumb to look for proof beyond his word!
We're lucky he agreed to lead our Expedition, so the Guild sponsored us rookies with ship and all. Who cares if he embellishes his accounts!?
Reconsidering:
Got a lot of Contracts under his belt...
Never ended below Quota. Could sell a shirt to Seldon's statue...
The Duke tried to touch the images, but his hand went right thru my ghost's body... All their faces went pale with fright!
(laughs)
All except my accuser, red with rage as he drew his golden Poignard, and his cousin, the Leader of the Guard, blue with fury as he smacked his own kin down to the ground!
(THUMPS the table)
Lights go RED alert. Alarms BLARE!
Console:
COLLISION
Warning!
All getting up:
(shrugs?)
Must be somewhere. Reading? Something.
Re: Consoles:
He's ok. Lifesigns all right. Relax, big sis.
They run OUT.
A big boxy/modular CARGO SHIP carefully APPROACHES, modest point-defenses (kinetic, Blasters) ZAPPING dangerous big rocks, letting smaller ones (harmlessly) HIT its discreetly SHIELDED hull.
CAPTION:
Virgin territory, outside
the Foundation's Convention
FADE IN:
Population: UNKNOWN
Handing a PAD:
(early 20s)
Imperial Atlas says it was a pretty average world. There used to be dozens of Satellites and Stations: Weather, Comms, Processing... plus a bunch of automated Rock-busters.
Must have been back when Terminus was the youngest colony of the Empire. There's none left now, as the Survey hinted. Poor maintenance, accident, war?
Taking the PAD:
Who knows, anything's possible in the decades since the Empire was last around. But we got what they need, and they got plenty minerals and other resources.
Less than expected, at least in the asteroids we've scanned. Maybe others got here first. Perhaps Pirates!
(PLAYS with his Blaster)
Re: her PAD:
No Ultrawave emitters nearby. EM freqs too scattered. Conditions on the surface have backslid significantly since the Terraform. The population could be in serious danger.
Walking forward:
Good chance your speculative Deal works, then. Get unpacking, boys, while Pix and I go meet the natives.
Why her? I'm better with weapons!
I'm stronger, and better with machinery.
(smirk?)
I got better dialect skills, quite handy for my studies of de-evolved Cultures. Plus Medical training.
Reaching a SEALED AIRLOCK:
What? Sis...!
Sheepishly:
I read the Manuals...
Donning his silver Medallion:
He CHECKS his Blaster, OPENS the airlock.
A small (shielded) LIFEBOAT (not unlike a 2-seater HOVERCAR with a glass canopy) EXITS, DROPS planetwards.
Checking her PAD:
Magnetic field reads weakly. Air's thinner than should be. There's less Oxygen and Water vapor, lots more heat & winds.
Compensating for wind GUSTS:
Infrared says there's too much Desert and Rocks down there, too little Green and Seas. No sign of any Cities yet.
(re-checking)
Got a moving heat signature, a few Ks ahead of us.
Console:
Proximity
ALERT!
Wildly BANKING/SWERVING:
The (patched-up) MISSILE HOMES IN!
BIG EXPLOSION!! (shields FLARE)
FADE to WHITE.
BLACK FADES TO:
PIX (lightly-BRUISED/bandaged) tends to LIMMAR (more bruised/BANDAGED, on a derelict MAT on the bare floor). Clothing singed/TORN, no Blasters nor jewels nor...
Trying to RISE (in vain):
Offering a small FLASK:
As he GULPS water:
(tired)
Scavengers found us the next day, likely by the smoke... 2 days ago.
(gestures)
These tunnels are their Camp. Or one of their foraging sites, I'm not sure.
SEARCHING himself:
(sad)
Scavenged. Same as mine and the remains of our Lifeboat. They use some kind of small pets as Metal Detectors, got everything!
Baring TEETH (1 of 'em GOLD, another SILVER):
(shrugs)
They must have received our crash Beacon... eventually. We're now too far from there, and you need to recover before moving.
Not exactly. I earned some goodwill helping these... Peasants decipher our Medkit, tending to some of their ill...
(TENDS to him)
But when I tried to find an exit to this labyrinth, they brought me back, explaining only that travel is impossible under the day's murderous heat.
Not without dangers, either, including nasty predators, and the certainty of getting lost without guide or map, thus facing the sun without refuge and no easy way to get water either, in a region that hasn't seen rain in years...
Maybe. Maybe not. These people know nothing of their past. They're incredibly superstitious, say we're special because we fell from the sky in a ball of fire.
It could have been any of several sides in a war that's gone on for 3 or 4 generations at least.
(intense)
What kind of war? With what weapons? What for? Does it encompass the whole planet or just a part?
No clue. Perhaps the Leaders know. Trouble is, they also claim to be special because their Forebears came from the sky atop pieces of stars.
CAPTION:
A WEEK LATER
Landscape pretty DESERTED, with a few stunted plants, no signs of animal life, LOW MOUNTAINS on the horizon. A gazillion fixed STARS ornament the CLOUDLESS sky.
An OLD WOMAN approaches, puts a bit of FOOD in PIX's hands.
As LIMMAR looks UP:
A shiny little 'star' MOVES slightly SIDEWAYS.
Re: towering complex STONE/METALLOY/GLASS 'sculpture' halfway up the wall, SHINING with sunlight:
A remnant of more enlightened times, no doubt. From a Solar Observatory, most likely. Explains that.
Re: on the far side, a miniature solar disc PROJECTION slowly/imperceptibly CRAWLS the STONE FLOOR.
Precisely aligned, I'd bet. You can make out the Corona and even some Spots.
(double-checks)
Hmmm... it gets bigger, and closer, as the sun rises.
FAINT yet widening BURN TRAILS on the ground HINT just that.
The projection BRIGHTENS, develops TINY vapor WISPS.
TUGGING against her BONDS:
(upset)
This is their 'Trial of the Gods'!? We should have chosen the gladiatorial fights! We're gonna die!!
Afraid so. I was hoping things wouldn't come to that.
(shouts to the sky)
DIVINE SPIRIT, CREATOR AND RULER OF ALL! HEAR US IN OUR HOUR OF NEED!
As dawn TURNS into morning, the projection grows, BURNS almost too hot to watch.
From some nearby RUINS, a Constable in full (rag-tag) Armor APPROACHES, walking fast, shadowed by a parasol-holding Attendant.
Re: the Constable:
As the Constable gets closer, RAISES his STAFF:
Sunlight DIMS noticeably!
PIX can't help looking UPWARDS, as do 10s of PEOPLE around the ruins. There's no apparent cause!
The Constable hesitates, POISED to strike, but the Attendant REFRAINS him!
The weakened yet still BURNING projection almost ON THEM:
Sunlight DIMS even more!
CLOUDS gather fast, BLOCKING most of the light while the projection harmlessly ILLUMINATES him!
More Armored WARRIORS emerge, APPROACH fast.
A small LIGHTNING BOLT strikes in the distance. Then a few more, stronger, CLOSER!
The gathering people & Warriors MARVEL at the darkening clouds & EVENTS.
As lightning RACES ever closer, THUNDERCLAPS & wind GUSTS multiply!
Fearful people start to KNEEL (incl. some Warriors). Women (high-ranking or not) PROTECT their children.
As sizable HAIL rains down on 'em, the undecided Warriors start to KNEEL too, EXCEPT:
What kind of witchcraft is this? Stop now or ...!!
He RAISES his SWORD, but his own people SWARM & RESTRAIN him!
SHIVERING in the wind:
Mercy! We didn't know...!
Others CHORUS her. They WAIL as lightning STRIKES nearby!
Gauging his captive audience:
COWERING & REELING from the hail:
Yes! Spare us! Please!!
The Chorus AGREES.
As they're FREED:
SAVORING the moment, hands RAISED to the sky:
As Lightning, Thunder & Wind SUBSIDE, Hail turns to soft RAIN.
The cloud cover THINS a bit, allowing GLIMPSES of sunlight. People WEEP/LAUGH with relief.
In a corner, EATING a ration BAR:
So that's why he mumbled so much when he thought nobody was listening! I feared isolation was driving him nuts!
(re: her BAR)
Mmhh!! I'll never complain about our food again!
Grinning:
I'll get a Comms-tooth like his at the earliest opportunity!
He Contacted when desperation was pushing us to do something stupid, like trying a rescue by force.
Or leaving... But he kept saying this mishap could become an opportunity.
Luckily we could consult his copy of Aporat's Memorandum on Effective Curses!
Hardest thing was keeping hail and lightning from killing anyone.
Disrupting their execution machine was an added bonus. Your reaction was priceless!
The medics LEAVE.
Re: his PAD:
Had to call in reinforcements... for a percent of future gains.
(firm)
No. Not money. He's old-school: came with us to help the Primitives. Now, with most of their warring Aristocracy shocked into acquiescence or awed into cooperation, we (the Foundation) will be their most trusted Partners and Advisors.
Their Ancestors weren't so primitive: there's plenty of broken but salvageable machinery in this System.
Repeat the performance with the other Tribes, and we'll become the shadow Administrators of this sorry ball of dust, the re-Terraforming Contract just the first of many profitable Deals.
APPROACHING, adjusting his NEW silver Medallion:
Traders and Priests exist to spread the Foundation's Science and influence. Economic rewards are only a happy secondary result.
Nothing wrong with getting rich while doing our Duty. Or at least pay Debts!
Sorry, but I've never let 'morals' keep me from doing what's right. Not every day the chance comes to save millions risking only 2 lives.
(winks)
Anyone would've done the same!
More than half the planet still needs 'saving'. That's 100s of scattered Tribes.
Right. We'll try to use less dangerous displays, without losing too much 'appeal'.
(winks)
I'm getting old for these Capers.
Once the planet's peacefied, yes. They'll help persuade those not swayed by our technologically miraculous wares.
The Guild will see to that. It's in our Contracts.
Of course, but I meant... Before the end, my thoughts kept going to that Scavenger Tribe, to the good we did 'em during our short stay...
(beat)
We can do so much more now... I want to return and help 'em, if possible. They already trust me.
Hand ON her shoulder:
A leisurely 'TICK-TOCK' sounds (as a shiny star MOVES SIDEWAYS).
No comments:
Post a Comment