Sacred Trust

by

Roxanne Barbour

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS
www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Published by
WHISKEY CREEK PRESS
www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright © 2015 by
Roxanne Barbour

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-63355-696-6

Credits
Cover Artist: Susan Krupp
Editor: Merrylee Lanehart

Printed in the United States of America

In Memory of Leonard Nimoy.
Goodbye, Mr. Spock.

I should have let Tata pick our destination, I thought, gazing down at the obviously dead Basilian sprawled near the dais dominating the Temple of Enlightenment in the Basili capital of Basik. Discovering a dead body certainly made for an ominous start to our study of Basilian religion.

My friend, Tata Junior, and I had recently arrived on Basili from Tata's home planet of Arandis, and had started attending BSU, the Basilian Scientific University. After school, we normally try to visit a monument, or building, or museum, or attend a cultural event. We knew so little about Basili. And since it looked like we might be here for a while, we both understood the necessity of understanding our surroundings.

Our ambassador parents, and Tata and I, had ended up in Basik after getting kicked off Arandis—the only other inhabited planet in this solar system. Although our expulsion had been the result of Tata's action, no one mentioned the topic in his hearing. I suspected, though, his single-parent ambassador mother, Ilandus Tata, had had a few choice words for him in private.

“Nara, leave,” said Tata. His hands clasped behind his back indicated Tata's nervousness.

My universal translator and I had pretty much gotten used to Tata's truncated Arandi speech. So I deduced Tata tried to tell me we should disappear.

Upon our arrival at the temple, I'd looked around the high-ceilinged main room and marveled at the numerous statues on display. I wondered if they were statues of gods...or perhaps ancestors. Various displays were lit up and enticed us to wander the mostly dark room.

We hadn't had time for much study before we came across the body.

Before I had chance to respond to Tata's request to leave, we were joined by four staff members of the Temple. Their flowing tweedy-blue capes indicated their allegiance. Although normally wordier than Arandi, the Basilians silently grabbed us. Tata and I struggled, but to no avail. The Basilians tied us together, back-to-back, and made us stand on the dais beside the body, which was still dripping its peculiar green blood.

The higher humidity and our struggle against our bindings made me sticky with sweat.
Although fear may be the culprit too
, I thought. One of only four humans on a previously undiscovered planet tended to up the stress level—at least mine.

“I guess we should have gone to the Space Museum like you suggested,” I said to Tata.

A growl escaped Tata's mouth. Tata never understood my sense of humor, and it wasn't easy for me to determine when Tata was being humorous, although I had to admit—Arandi humor focused on areas I was not accustomed to—things like food and clothing.

Who would have thought?

Oddly, I was growing tired of looking at the same strange statue. That and my back and shoulders were killing me. I tried to stand up straighter but tied to the taller Tata made me slouch awkwardly while my arms were pulled up behind me. “Tata, talk to me. What's happening?” He and the Basilians were out of my line of sight and since no one spoke, I had no idea where the current players were and what they were doing.

“One leave; others watch,” said Tata.

Tata's voice betrayed him. I knew him well enough to sense his anxiety.

So that means we have three captors
.
No chance of escaping, I guess
.

Since no one seemed in the mood to talk, I studied the body. I needed to take my mind off the ropes binding me to Tata and how my father, Naru Scotia, the human ambassador to Basili, was going to regret again bringing up an eighteen-year-old daughter by himself.

On the other hand, perhaps Eonus Tata, Tata Junior, or Tata as I liked to sometimes call him, would be in greater trouble with his mother, Ilandus Tata, the Arandi ambassador to Basili, especially since Tata Junior was the reason we all got kicked off Arandis. Only time will tell.

Although we'd only been on Basili a short time, the Basilian splayed on the dais seemed to perhaps be of retirement age.

Did aliens retire?
Do they even have the concept?
I had not encountered this notion on Arandis. I had more than a few questions for my father.

At least Basilians showed variety in choosing their clothing colors—quite unlike Tata's people. The Arandi had strict color choices—purple and green garments for the males, red and blue garments for females—although black, white, and brown were worn by all.

Physically, the Arandi and Basilians were similar—humanoid, grey skeletal body form, and curly locks of hair. Their similarity was what had actually caused the ejection of the four of us—Tata and I and our parents— from Arandis. Tata found a secret hidden from both populations—Arandis and Basili had been seeded by common ancestors. My father and I had found ourselves smack in the middle of the conflict, so once again I lacked human companionship, except for my father and his two human assistants, who happened to be a couple.

“Tata, look at the body and tell me what you see,” I demanded.

Tata shook a little, as if to disagree, but he relented and we shuffled our bodies around—under the watchful twitching of our captors. They moved closer as we twirled.

What was I thinking
! Now I have to stare into the eyes of our guards.

Tata cleared his throat, and appeared reluctant to speak. Normally forceful, his hesitation surprised me.

“What do you see? Come on, tell me.” His silence irritated me. I wanted to jump up and start running somewhere. Our situation confounded my experience.

“Guards?” asked Tata.

“The guards don't care.” I wanted to smack him—not that I ever had—but his concerns frustrated me. We had no control over the guards.

Tata sighed. “Older Basilian. Blood two spots. Probably knife twice.”

I hadn't noticed
two
pools of green blood. On our next turnaround, I'd take a closer look.

I knew Tata was uncomfortable when he squirmed in our weird embrace and his usual faint hint of rosemary grew stronger. So I said, “Let me see, again.” We shuffled around to our original position.

To my surprise, the two pools of blood were on the same side of the Basilian's body. They were so close together I hadn't noticed the break in my previous perusal. Since the spread of blood hadn't grown much after our initial discovery of the body, his death had probably not been that recent.

I'm kidding myself
—what did I know about either Basilian or, for that matter, Arandi physiology in the aftermath of death? I really must erase my human notions and stick to the facts.

I looked up to see a Basilian watching. His uniform perhaps indicated an official of some sort. Although I knew from personal experience, Arandi police clothed themselves in garish fabric covered in badges, I had never met the equivalent Basilian. Possibly, they opted for black clothing with very little in the way of insignia. However, I was convinced he was an official of some sort.

The officer gestured at the temple staff to untie us. After that, I loved him! Being tied up had been a new experience—one I hoped to never experience again.

I rubbed my arms and said, “Officer, I am Nara Scotia. I am a human from—”

He interrupted me. “I know who both of you are. I am Officer Aron Kikess of the Basilian police.”

Officer Kick-Ass!
I tried not to laugh. I wasn't totally successful, because Tata jabbed me with his elbow.

Kikess ignored us and made a call on his com. From what I heard, reinforcements were now on the way.

“What were you two doing here?” he asked.

“Easy peasy. We stopped by after school to study the temple. Tata and I know so little about Basilian culture, we're trying to study everything we can. In fact, we've been to—”

“Understood.”

I'd been cut off again. My babbling apparently wasn't appreciated.

“Show me your hands,” Officer Kikess said.

First Tata held out his hands. The detective took a close look and then motioned for Tata to turn his hands over. He repeated the procedure with me.

What was he looking for? Then it dawned on me he searched for evidence of green blood or other debris on our bodies. To top off the indignities we'd experienced today, he took a spray can from his bag and completely covered our hands with a chilly orange paint. Preserving evidence was my guess.

We waited in silence until a group of Basilians appeared. I assumed they were detectives, evidence gatherers, medical staff and such.

“Call parents,” said Officer Kikess to Tata and me. At that point, he sounded like an Arandi, rather than a Basilian.

I had enough mobility under the dried orange goo to take my com out of my pocket. Thankfully, my com responded to voice-activation.

Dad's location was unknown to me, but he answered his com. “Dad, Tata and I are in a bit of trouble. Officer Kikess would like to speak with you.”

I could foresee the end of freedom in my future.

Discovering a dead Basilian had put my day in the dumpster. Although most days since our arrival on Basili had been pretty interesting, I'm not sure I'd rate Basili more than just adequate. Something about this world seemed off to me.

Tata and I were escorted, by our original guards, away from the body to wait for our parents' arrival. I now had an opportunity to study the room and its inhabitants.

My second look around the Great Room astounded me. I thought perhaps the light level had been upped for the police, as a great deal more of the room was illuminated. I increased my estimates of the room's length and width, and I noticed more nooks and crannies along the outer walls. Additionally, the center boasted more lighted displays than I'd noticed previously.

I need to come back here
. This place should hold a wealth of information about Basilian religion and its history.

In addition to the police presence, a number of other Basilians had entered the Great Room. It was, by far, the largest room I had encountered on Basili—so my spontaneous naming the space
Great
suited its expanse.

The police kept the new arrivals at a distance—away from the crime scene and away from us. So my study lacked details I could have gleaned up close. However, I noticed a Basilian of some authority. Perhaps he was in charge of the temple. His garments had considerably more adornments than the drab flowing tweedy-blue capes worn by the majority of temple members. My assumption was
he
—as each temple member I'd seen so far—was male.

Thankfully, the inhabitants of Arandis and Basili were basically four-limbed humanoids. So I didn't need to fathom anything different in the way of sexes and other basic concepts. However, unbeknownst to me, the day would come when I would be expectedly and wonderfully surprised by something I'd taken for granted.

Each person, the leader spoke to, put the fingertips of both hands to their foreheads as a greeting, to a person of elevated position, I supposed.

Most conversations were short, amongst the Basilians, but then an extended one occurred. Much to my surprise, a Basilian, with white hair, greeted the leader. I'd never before seen a Basilian without yellow hair.

I turned to Tata to ask a question about Albinos but, before I could say a word, I noticed our parents arriving. Dad and Ilandus walked in together, which shouldn't have surprised me, but for some reason, it did. We all lived in a building that housed various diplomats—kind of like a United Nations housing authority—and Ambassador Tata and my father Naru Scotia attended a lot of the same functions.

Officer Kikess came over and introduced himself to them, and said, “Your offspring have found themselves in a compromising situation. We will take them back to police headquarters for questioning and examination. It would be most appropriate if you joined us and watched the proceedings, Ambassadors.”