The Wars of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (find a book to read .txt) 📕

- 'The platform has already departed, sir,' a soldier called.

- 'Excellent,' said Elmbaum. 'Now I won't be dealing with any more student protest movements, political activists, or refinery workers' strikes. I just got sick of that shit. Time to get a life, Gordon. You're getting on in years.'

Naturally those words were not spoken in the presence of the soldier.

'There will be nothing left on this planet but dumbed-down guarrons, a few archanaeans, and thousands of human bodies buried beneath the ruins,' he continued his ominous tirade to himself. And so it must.

General Zengal was the most headstrong and original counterintelligence measure that had occurred to him. One of the chief functions of counter-intelligence was to import disinformation. And this computer-generated and cleverly used screen succeeded in deceiving the enemy's moves.

Sasia had passed the information to Elisandra, she to Spears and Navarro, but without revealing her source. That worked for a while. As time went on, the futuristic holographic illusion became harder and harder to maintain, because it had to look insanely real, or perhaps at least so real as to convince the enemy that it was actually Brigadier General Ollie Zengal, commander of the Ninth Air Company out of Evin Derr Base, about a hundred and ninety miles west of Rodwell. They had to make up a story about him being a double agent for the Elohyn forces and also the Ubunder forces. It was too time consuming because the whole scenario was being processed on advanced model quantum computers.

The whole development with the general took months. My computer specialists changed it so much and he was just the perfect recruiter for the lieutenant. Sasia could have tilted the war back at Diomedes Base, but my plan foiled their methods. All that was left was for Enduocles to make contact with the Guarron chieftains, who were strong and powerful. This planet will still remain theirs, but I am almost their descendant. I have their blood in my veins. If he convinces them, perhaps one day I will return here when the radiation has worn off. I've been alive for over a thousand years now, so I don't much care. That legend with Midriel and Gimplin Orn worked for so many years. But now it's time to change tactics at least a tiny bit. The archaneans only matter.

But someone did hear his words. And it was Gene Paley. He knew that this whole complicated puzzle was already starting to line up gradually, and it was only a matter of time before everything fell into place. He hated the governor for his brutal callousness and despotism. She suspected his secrets, but even he was a little surprised. Almost for a moment he saw the whole picture.

‘So to him we are just some pawns that he moves around the chessboard as he pleases.’ he thought angrily. ‘Your days are numbered, Governor!’

^^^

Gordon Elmbaum was enjoying a luxury he deserved, one he couldn't even afford in his native Imgradon. He was fed up with the protests of some unions - eternally dissatisfied with the status quo he had imposed. He had to pretend, if only a little, but the pain of his mixed background burned him fiercely. He had no choice but to constantly relieve it, and the archaneans' feathers were the only means of doing so. There was no fooling himself, he knew they were a limited supply and if he ran out he would die in hellish pain. He was sure there was a fatal defect somewhere in his chromosome pairs and nothing would be able to cure him completely. He just needed to be able to constantly relieve his aches and pains.

Chris Zonrethis was particularly sensitive to his needs in view of the fact that they were now business partners, and Chris knew that the Governor was his only chance to shore up his material position. Yes, he was wealthy, but that wealth was as unstable as some giant's feet of clay. For his part, Gordon, for all his power, was doomed to a kind of ‘social death.’ Nothing was to be the same. He knew that retribution awaited him, and even if he escaped it, he would forever be on thorns lest something from somewhere should strike. Was this the career he had fought for. Very doubtful.

Gene Paley was one who would have gladly broken away from that triumvirate, but the career of a former failed admiral was not a good fresh start. Besides, most places on the planet had been totally wrecked by the prolonged artificially induced cataclysms and warfare. What to do? Gene bore a responsibility no less than that of the Governor. He had orchestrated the pogroms at Rodwell and Diomedes Base in Learnia. He was responsible for too many bad things. He was also the orderly of that traitor whose name had not yet been revealed. He was the real punching bag in the hands of the power-hungry governor. Now he had to suffer the consequences.

The social life of the rulers in the distant future was too far removed from that of the past. Their conferences and meetings quite often included ready-recorded holographic press releases, and it was all so artificial that there was nowhere else to go. They didn't even have to think, but they did have to be careful to control their military and financial resources. The people were a herd to be managed.

When they successfully left the planet on the special Voltan-class long-range space shuttles, they intercepted the transport platform that was lazily ‘floating’ in the vacuum of space, collecting all of the Governor's valuables. They didn't fail to set off an exonium auto-detonator bomb to be a pleasant surprise to anyone curious who happened to decide to board the platform. It was Gordon's style of saying ‘Goodbye!’.

The existing method of tracking aircraft by detecting traces of their burnt fuel could easily have been avoided. They made a course deviation and headed for the nearest quasar, where they would pass at a large and safe enough distance to avoid being sucked in by the black hole at the center of that galaxy. It was a dangerous and logical undertaking. Then they had to make a few collapsar jumps and deduct the appropriate subjective time. And then - if they survived until then, they'd think of it.

Elmbaum knew that the vast amount of galactic credits guaranteed him respect wherever he went, because he could pay with hard and stable currency.

Chris Zonrethis would act as his financial assistant, as Gordon didn't like to touch directly, and needed a middleman. As much as he hated other people being privy to his secrets, he couldn't deny that he couldn't avoid working with some of them.

To hide his wealth, which numbered in the quasi-millions , he needed to build a specific financial pyramid, and Zonrethis would be the man to run it. The interesting moment came just when he had to transfer his assets. He just wasn't going to do it. Not even B-class warships had been to where they were going.

After experiencing quite a few adventures, they finally reached one of the last intermediate destinations before their final goal. They landed on the planet Sebur Nag without incident. The locals were extremely peaceful and naive. They looked like humanoids with slightly weaker bodies than humans. Gordon needed an interpreter, but there simply wasn't one. Zegandarian speech was not very common in this part of the galaxy.

Gordon was very desperate, as his riches would not serve him on a planet with such a primitive system, where all economic life was based on barter.

They managed to get some provisions and also fuel for the shuttles in exchange for very kind words and gestures. But Gordon had to part with a rather large amount of Archanay feathers, whose healing functions kept him alive. The locals were very willing to exchange his own archanaeids, which were put in special cages insulated with the aforementioned hyon fibers so that their screams could not be heard.

Gordon saw that it was too risky to stay on this planet. He had no idea where they should go next, because although the time jumps were related to the so-called zero time, they also had to take into account the technical capabilities of the shuttles. They needed a short break. So they decided to stay a little longer.

Gordon ate and drank on his stomach. Chris Zonrethis was dancing with the locals, who were shaking their big violin-like heads strangely. ‘What a strange place the universe was, apparently it really does have everything here!’ thought Gordon.

Suddenly, Gene Paley burst into one of the Equazarium wards of the ‘building’ where Gordon was housed.

- 'Gordon, believe it or not, they're on our heels, and they'll be here soon!,' said Paley breathlessly. 'Of course, he was bluffing a bit, not because what he had said didn't ring true, but because somewhere in there, he secretly wanted the Governor to get what he deserved, but himself to get amnesty for his transgressions. The court martial would have executed him outright for treason.'

The climate of Sebur Nag was something like subtropical and the planet was covered with forests of exotic plants called eophytes. They resembled trees, but had aerial roots, although the atmosphere of Sebur Nag was quite poor in oxygen. It was known that there was no other intelligent life beyond the three or four polyps on its surface. Nor were there any large animals. Just microorganisms and small insects typical of eophytic forests.

- Cover the shuttles deep into the northeast of the planet. Even if it's a false alarm, we need to be sure - Gordon spoke with unruffled calm, but somewhere in there Paley glimpsed the first stirrings of uncertainty. The Governor wasn't used to being in the role of the hunted, but like a trained predator he stalked his victims and executed them mercilessly.

Several days passed. The anxiety proved false. But Paley received some praise for his diligence. It allowed him to get a little closer to Governor Elmbaum, whose confidence was beginning to crack. He just needed a little more patience.

The Governor would make his first mistake sooner or later, and from then on it was a matter of time before he achieved his goals.

^^^

The unknown quadrant was an interesting place. The most cheerful and pleasant people in the universe were gathered here. All the ex-convicts and adventurers who had managed to avoid ending up in Labor Colony 206 spent their time eating and drinking. It was quite enjoyable. Gambling flourished in all its forms. There was gambling on ‘Entosu’, ‘Mantrix’ and last but not least on ‘Orimo’. It was so interesting. Some of the best cosmic poker masters were there. Every last one of them political prisoners. There were no criminal elements ‘muddying the waters’ in the quadrant. When they were in the right place, they set out on their brand new life path. There was definitely a lot of work to be done here, but there was plenty of food. They were developing space farming on a very friendly basis on the planet ‘Zentica 12 54’, which was not marked on any star charts. For this reason, no one bothered them with miscellaneous suggestions.

The social order was more than good, as more than six thousand people resided here permanently. And to be declared sustainable by space standards, a colony had to be at least towards four thousand permanent residents. They had ‘emigrated’ but they had brought new values to the new place. They had also brought their worldview.

Apart from elendorans and gorenai chiras, there were many other crops being grown, including some that they had cultivated themselves. For example, they were very fond of growing the emsatan tree, which produced strange but very