Chill

Chapter 13

The Founding Father of a world had no special talents or skills. The process was one of selection. The chosen individual submitted their DNA which was by means of meta gold merged through a complex process into the active frame of a Live Gate. Calibration for this fresh organic matter would allow an Anchor Gate to be thrown at the target world through a space time framework not unlike a tunnel to where the very same DNA sequence was already seeded on the erstwhile lifeless world. It had to be lifeless of course to give the Gate a chance to find the Anchor tissue. Any other organic matter in the vicinity could confuse the Gate.

Where the impressive qualities of the Pioneer Guild came to the fore was that first step. First landers were numerous of course, a first wave of explorers and colonisers. But there could only be one Founding Father, the true first lander, the first one to step into the Live Gate, into the unknown. Just as the young woman of the Madrullian Mission had done before him, Paterion had risked his life, had faced up to the possibility of becoming a victim of that most dreaded of fates, a Ghost Gate. He had stepped through undaunted, and laid the Anchor Gate securely at what became Ithak, the location of the now fully established Primary Gate which linked Troy to the rest of civilisation. All thanks to the bravery of one man. The Founding Father of Troy, Afdal Paterion.

Tam returned to the Inn full of thoughts on what the professor had said. He was dismissive of the Ice Maiden as a reality but he was also one of the pioneers who helped establish Troy after the Madrullian Mission ended in disaster. Like the woman who lost her life he too was a Madrullian. Tam had been tempted to ask if she was his sister but felt it intrusive and the question remained unspoken. He also wanted to know why Draevenk was at the mansion, not in the capacity of an arresting officer but in consultation with the professor. With the revelation the man was a first lander, perhaps the Crystal Lumos were asking advice of this Pioneer Guild member regarding the chill. Again Tam did not feel up to asking questions, especially with the acquired dignity now attached to the elder man. It did not make his granddaughter any less annoying. Stupid locals indeed. What a snob!

Paterion's status as the Founding Father seemed of course at odds with his current situation. Such a person would be feted not shunned, rich on life long subsidies not begging from door to door. Something had clearly happened to the man since then, a madness of sorts descended upon the previously brave and educated man, that left him at war with society. Why stay here though? He presumably had the means to travel anywhere in the galaxy. Perhaps his former glory kept him anchored to Troy in the same way his DNA had anchored the Primary Gate at Ithak. Was it the same with all Founding Fathers? Had there been a wandering hermit on Atherbridge Nine, and on other worlds, unable to leave because of their special ties with the world? When he could, Tam resolved to look up the histories and fates of Founding Fathers. Perhaps there was a curse on them, linking them forever to the world they first set foot upon in the name of colonisation. Was this why the Pioneer Guild needed to effectively brainwash recruits into taking that first step? Maena's mother was not in her right mind, so the professor said. The speculative horror of it all changed Tam's attitude to the heroic deeds of the fallen few. They had been tricked.

"What did he say?" Lick Sorrell interrupted the boy's frustrated thoughts as he wandered idly into the still busy drinking hall, having barely noticed the cold uphill journey home.

"Um, who, what?" Tam replied and blinked like a stupid local.

"The mysterious hair clasp that belonged to the Frost Witch," Dorstal stepped forward and tugged on the boy's ear painfully.

"Hey, don't call the Ice Maiden that," Tam responded without thinking.

"The boy's in love!" Dorstal crowed. "Think you're man enough to go up there and claim her icy hand in marriage?" he laughed, wiping his mouth after a gulp of Vivid. There was a chorus of laughter at this comment and Tam felt his cheeks flame with red.

"He reclaimed it," he said quickly, glaring sullenly at the small crowd around him who had come to listen and seemingly make fun on Dorstal's instigation. Teric gave him a sympathetic smirk which Tam thought was hardly supportive in a best friend.

"Reclaimed it?" Lick said with a frown.

"Yes dad. It was his, or rather his granddaughter's, a family heirloom they lost last summer."

"That's treasure trove, surely," Dorstal protested. "How do we know it belongs to the Madrullians? Worse thieves than the hermit," he spat out.

"Take that back!" Tam found himself shouting indignantly. Dorstal Pamistoe was hardly impressed with the threatening demeanour of the teenager who foolishly challenged him. His eyes flashed as he turned his bulky frame towards him, squaring his shoulders menacingly.

"Or what boy?" he growled. "Filthy offworlders are rich enough as it is. My brother found that there jewel. It's Pamistoe property if anything else. We only loaned it to Lick to find its worth, not hand it over to that old man and his freaky little sibling with her sticky fingers. Lost it last summer. Likely as another sum--"

Tam could take it no more and lashed out with bunched fists in a flurry of blows which caught the erstwhile flock master off guard. He staggered back, more shocked than hurt. With a shake of the head he recovered himself and made to lurch forward upon the youngster who in fury stood his ground, eyes bright with unshed tears and teeth gritted to face whatever was coming.

Amid the shouts of alarm and laughter at the impending uneven encounter no one noticed the towering figure of Parthan Fallow lean forward and intervene. A great hand shoved against Dorstal's chest, halting his progress. The move was so forceful it was as if Dorstal's lungs had been emptied and he gasped for air. To Tam the giant northerner merely held up splayed fingers of his injured hand in a gesture of warning. He turned his dark gaze on the fuming Pamistoe brother.

"You deserved that, the hits from the boy I mean," he said grimly. "They were fairly dealt in response to unkind words."

Dorstal Pamistoe knew he was no match for the great northerner and grumbled in frustrated fury.

"They hurt me none," he sneered.

"Then no hurt was done," Lick Sorrell said. "I'll not have you brawling in my place and especially not with any member of my family." He remembered when the Pamistoes had a run in with his twin brothers over a perimeter dispute several seasons ago. Although it had eventually been ended amicably there were times when the matter had become quite nasty and blows exchanged. "Watch your tongue," he added warningly.

Dorstal looked around him for allies and saw none. His brother was not in sight and this gave him a reason to leave.

"Malten found that there treasure. By rights it belongs to him. A world's ransom you said. I'll have a word with him and speak to some Proctors about how we can reclaim it from those thieving Madrullians." With that he downed the remainder of his drink, slammed the empty tankard on the nearest wooden table which made everyone sat there jump, and pulled the wavering Eastel with him out of the Wayfarer Inn.

"Whoosh, there goes nothing!" Teric Jonas piped up and slapped his friend on the arm. Tam was still dazed and sat slowly on the nearest bench without thinking. Tessanna Diomaristal happened to be opposite him and blinked her great dark eyes at him slowly in seeming admiration as she rested her chin on her hand. Forsa thrust forward with a frown.

"Imagine that thin little thing ever wanting to dress up in such frippery frappery stuff," she said acidly. "More money than style seems like."

"Who are you talking about?" Tessanna half asked the girl sat next to her. Before Tam could hear the reply, although he knew exactly who she meant, Teric had pinched his arm.

"Hey not the girl's table if you please. Come over here," and he dragged the boy across the room to where other lads were ready to toast him in juice for his warrior like stance against the dreaded bully of Upper Maeven. They did not care why he had punched the man, only that he had, representing a stand for their generation against controlling elders. He took the cheers in good earnest, especially as one toast was given to the Ice Maiden and her hot-blooded champion, Tam Sorrell.

Later that evening Tam felt obliged to tell his father about what he had seen at the Madrullian mansion.

"In conference with the Crystal Lumos, you say?" his father responded, rubbing his stubbly chin thoughtfully. "Makes me wonder if this chill isn't some crazy Agency stunt, connecting the Spark directly with Troy. Those beasts might be guardians not of an ice wraith but a Gate to another world, a frozen world." He seemed to warm to his theory as he spoke. "Nice of them to tell us, don't you think? Destroy our community to farther their greed. Needs a meeting this does," he added.

"You mean with the Pamistoes and others like them? Dad, you know what'll happen. They'll run the professor out of Upper Maeven," Tam protested in alarm.

"And his granddaughter too, eh?" the man smirked. "Wouldn't want that to happen." Then his face took on a serious look. "No. The Madrullians are a valuable asset to this community. They have food supplies, a power generator independent of Pashak and the Wilds in general. Did you know every iota of energy we use passes through the Madrullian power cells? The professor could shut Upper Maeven down with the flick of a switch."

This information did not comfort Tam.

"If Dorstal knew that he would surely get his people to overrun the mansion and get control of the generator," Tam said.

"It is a device easily disabled and made useless."

This was the only reassurance Lick Sorrell could give his son. The latter pictured the mansion as he lay in bed that night. Snow was falling thicker than ever and he was glad of that power source for no amount of wood burning could replace the pure energy of cells. The Madrullian mansion was built like a fortress. Heavy stone walls, small high-placed windows, it seemed deliberately designed to be defensible. A very few inmates could hold off hundreds, and with warmth and food inside, freezing cold outside, no siege could be maintained during the chill. The man was safe, so long as he remained indoors. So long as they all kept to themselves.

Tam toyed with the somewhat romantic notion of defending the walls of the mansion alongside the Madrullian family, firing snowballs at attackers who tried to scale the smooth granite ramparts. Yet he was reminded of his father's words about the Crystal Lumos. Was there a conspiracy to channel the riches of Cimmeron directly through a Gate to Troy? Since the failure of a Gate between Atherbridge Nine, the nexus with the rest of the galaxy, and Cimmeron itself, the usual method to visit the great frozen world was firstly via the Gate established on Troy. Then conventional hydrogen ships like the Love Star would rocket off Troy and cross interplanetary space at sub-light speed, taking six months to get to Cimmeron, unload their workers suited up in robotic gear for mining purposes and pick up ore to bring back to Ithak's storage bins. A Gate between Troy and Cimmeron would shave a whole year off the trip and presumably make it easier to direct mining operations on the remote world. The miners could spend less time in danger there and suit failures could be responded to instantly.

Was that what they had managed to do? He thought through the process. There was firstly the Primary Gate where the link began. One would have had to be shipped to Cimmeron and made to work in its extreme climate. Once that was set up then Anchor Gates would be thrown at the target location by a process he did not understand. It was something to do with settings in the Primary Gate that calculated probability zones in space-time to target a locality. Troy. Specifically the High Peaks. Had it gone wrong and the professor was helping in his research capacity to fix the problem? Yet he had been on Troy for a whole year before the chill began. Was he responsible?

Tam shook his head. The whole business was drifting into conspiracy upon conspiracy. How much simpler to believe in the Ice Maiden, an otherworldly creature accidentally adrift in a place she never meant to be, trapped and in need of rescue. Where had she come from? What strange dimension did she normally inhabit? These were unanswerable questions. Tam's thoughts drifted back to the economics of exploitation among the Mineral Stars. The reality of a Gate directly to Cimmeron would be truly something indeed.

The idea thrilled Tam. He could be suited up and stepping across the frozen surface of the Spark in a matter of hours. Such high adventure coloured his dreams but when he endeavoured to cross the threshold to glory like a Pioneer of old once again a slim, feminine figure dressed in frilly pink barred his path. Maena the Ice Maiden, guardian of the Gate of Cimmeron.

In spite of everything, the great chill, the threat of Crystal Lumos conspiracies, revolutions among the former sheep rearers of the Wilds of Maeven, the Wayfarer Inn ran as usual.

Tam found himself yawning and stretching as he spliced wood for the various fires in the great rambling building with Uncle Forsten. The other twin uncle was still recovering from his own dose of snow madness so Fallow helped occasionally and Sumira had moved into a cottage on the grounds with the big man as their temporary family home during the chill. The extended Sumoe family lived in a settlement on the outskirts of the Wilds Proper and visits at present were virtually at a standstill. Sumira missed her little nephews and nieces but was devoted to the great man she had married.

Parthan Fallow liked to talk about the Ice Maiden, her delicate pale figure, silvery hair and shining ice blue eyes, so that Tam found himself entranced at times by the story. Sumira huffed and fumed but accepted the wraith like impossibility of the ethereal creature was no substitute for her very real flesh and blood presence so she managed to keep her jealousy in check, using it occasionally to chase away the romantically inclined Karanie Fornoe if she happened to flutter too close to her husband.

Once the morning chores were over for Tam he was at leisure to pursue studies or hang out with his friends for school still remained closed of course. In the evening he served at the tables for a deal of pocket money, saving up for an impossible offworld trip to somewhere, anywhere off Troy. He dreamed of desert worlds with endless vistas of dunes and red rocky ramparts dazzling beneath hot triple suns, of jungle worlds reeking with vegetable decay amid hidden treasures and man traps.

"Another drink sir?" a familiar voice insinuated into his day dreaming and he heard Teric's familiar whoosh as he sat up and opened his eyes.

The boys had occupied their familiar table to the left of the fire and near the great outer door and were lazily digesting lunch before planning a brief afternoon of adventure. A new waitress stood before them and Allak Dimsoe whistled sarcastically at the slender creature clutching a silver tray tightly to her chest as she awaited Tam's response.

"Maena?" he said, slurring the name sleepily. It had been a big, warming meal, a necessity in these strange freezing days.

"That's my name sir," the girl indicated her name badge with a gesture of her chin, playing the servitor role to a tee. She smirked expectantly. Tam shook his head briefly.

"What are you doing here?" he simply asked, frowning.

The girl deflated slightly, hoping for a more excited or at least a pleased reaction at her appearance.

"Well, there's no school and only so many small ones to monitor so I thought to be helpful, you know, I'd take a job at the inn, you know, to help out," she replied flustered and crimsoned a little. Allak leaned forward.

"D'you think you could persuade Tessanna to don one of those cute little aprons and serve me?" he asked with a leer.

"I don't think so," Maena replied without hesitation. She shrugged. "Mustn't waste time chatting. I've tables to serve. Drinks?"

"No, I'm all out," Teric shook his head. Allak pouted, but Tam just continued to stare at the wavy chestnut hair tied loosely around a waitressing cap as Maena hovered before him, chewing a pencil, silvery eyes looking increasingly nervous. Her first day at work and he was ruining it.

"You shouldn't be here!" Tam suddenly thrust forward, remembering the imagined siege of the Madrullian mansion. "It's not safe. You should be at home with your grandfather."

"O-kay," Maena backed up a little. "I'll take that as a no," and she turned on her heel and made straight for a table of raucous workers fresh from a period of snow shovelling and fruitless beast hunting. Many of them were still in snow dampened fur that gave off an unpleasant smell as they dried out. Fragments of eaten meals and frequently lifted cups told of a repast well indulged and the men, bearded and flushed with good cheer laughed raucously among themselves at whatever anyone said to them.

Timidly Maena stood there, trembling, awaiting their pleasure, clutching her tray.

"What's this?" Tallak Poellan said, noticing the girl. "Fresh blood here in Maeven? Here girl, sit on my lap and I'll give you my order in detail." Roars of laughter at this but Maena did not move.

"I'd rather stand sir," the girl could be heard to say between the laughter. "What would you like?"

For answer the man grabbed her slender waist and plonked her unceremoniously on his thick knee.

"There, don't be shy lass. I'll not harm ye," he said in softer yet booming tones. "Settle there a moment. I'll have a triple Vivid, same for my two friends there, a Berry for the boy," the younger lad so indicated frowned in disappointment at the mention of a non-alcoholic beverage, "and another full round of chasers. Got that?"

Maena nodded mutely as she scribbled on her pad frantically before bouncing up to get the order. As she passed Tam's table she glanced at him, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks glowing, but there was a smile on her lips. She flicked her chestnut hair and disappeared behind the bar to assemble the order. Tam half stood, confused by what he had witnessed and unsure how to react. His father took the matter out of his hands.

The man strolled leisurely forward and went to the table where the rowdy Poellan clan caroused happily.

"Just a word," he said softly but in a tone that cut through the mirth like hot wire through ice. "That girl's school age still and not used to being pawed by the likes of you," he advised. The man so admonished raised big hands placatingly.

"I hear you Lick," he said. "No harm meant. Got a little too excited. She's a sweet thing and no mistake. We'll respect her space. Here she is again," and he stood to bow at the approaching girl. She blinked, pausing with her hands full of mugs and glasses. Lick took some off her and passed them to the table.

"My apologies for the familiarity miss," Tallak said. "A toast to the sweetest waitress between High Peaks and Ithak," he insisted gallantly and those in hearing seconded the toast with a loud cheer and raised glasses. Maena stood stock still, hands at her sides, taking the acknowledgement of the crowd before being ushered away by her employer to do some bar polishing work for a spell as the hall was obviously getting a little too boisterous. She did not venture a glance over at Tam's table to see if he took the toast to the sweetest of waitresses but she remembered to flick her hair again just like Sara Manderby.

Tam's father came over to him just then to let him know a meeting had been arranged regarding the situation of the Madrullians. Dorstal's treasure trove claim, the rumour the professor was involved in some conspiracy with the Crystal Lumos which had gone wrong resulting in the big chill and the issue of the generator were all on the agenda.

That same evening the meeting was held in the back room and was a rowdy affair with accusations flying. Tam was waiting tables at the time but caught parts of the conversations or arguments rather whenever he was obliged to enter and serve drinks. He did not like the sounds of some of the words being spoken and was convinced the people were going to storm the mansion.

As soon as his shift was over and the meeting broke up Tam resolved to warn the professor of what might happen.

He went to the mansion and stated what he had heard. The professor good-naturedly dismissed his alarms and showed him something of what he was doing as he led the boy into his study which adjoined the great library.

Numerous screens streaming data from satellite links flickered colourfully. Power from the generator enabled this apparent extravagant use of resources and Tam gulped at the seeming luxury of it all. The mass of information cascading across the bright screens meant nothing to him but when the professor tapped the nearest one the images froze momentarily.

A swirl of blue with snaking tendrils of green seemed to overlay a contoured map of the Wilds of Maeven. Tam could see labelled settlements and topographical features. The snaky swirls flickered as if in a loop of motion, or pulsing like a heartbeat.

"What you are seeing," the man said by way of explanation, "is the chill as it looks from space." He zoomed the screen to show more of Troy. The northern sectors were tinged with blue but nowhere near as intense as that hovering over the High Peaks. "Clearly the weather anomaly is very localised." At this magnification which showed the curvature of the world, the chill was small enough to be hidden by the professor's finger as he touched the screen thoughtfully.

"Isn't that secret information?" Tam asked, thinking of the previous arrest the man had undergone earlier.

"No, it's in the public domain." There was a mirthful chuckle, as if the professor was also remembering that day when his granddaughter brought a boy with her to help rescue him from Ithak and the neglect of the Crystal Lumos.

"Why isn't anyone doing anything about it then?"

"The ruling powers of Troy Totalis are too busy with other matters to concern themselves with a local phenomenon like this," the professor said. Tam could not imagine what would be more important or extraordinary.

Hovering in a connecting doorway, Maena had been watching the exchange in silence from the moment Tam had breathlessly arrived to warn them of the danger they were in. She felt she understood a little of why he had reacted to her waitressing adventure, at least the basic thought of her wandering out alone but this did not give her any pleasure. Did he not think she could look after herself? After all the times she had defeated him in snowball fights as well. A surge of annoyance filled her and she could not help irking the boy.

"The Frost Witch is not important enough for them," she said in spiteful tones and laughed.

"Stop calling her that!" Tam cried in anger, turning on the teenage girl in a surprisingly passionate gesture.

"You think she's real?" Maena countered, provoked in her turn. "If she is real and she brought this upon us how could you even think of defending her?" she cried in exasperation.

Tam ignored the professor's attempted mediation between the two youngsters as he drew himself up in indignant fury.

"It's none of your business what I think about her. I don't have to consult you on my feelings for anyone or anything like some Rosy Love Romance plot twist. I came to help not be made fun of." With that Tam stormed out of the room and with the bustling help of Falma at the great entrance door he departed the mansion in high dudgeon.

Apart from the beeps and hums from the info-streams surrounding the remaining occupants of the busy room there was an extended period of silence. Then Maena's breath shuddered as if she was taking in the pain of the moment.

"Good riddance," she muttered, tears starting in her eyes as she suddenly made to depart the room also. The professor laid a restraining hand upon her shoulder in an attempt at sympathy. She paused in her headlong flight. "What?" she said to the man as he gazed at her sadly. "Never seen young love go wrong before?" and she ran past him, up the stairs and into her bedroom where she bathed her pillow in tears of agony and loneliness, vowing never to speak to Tam Sorrell ever again.

To be continued...