The Silence of Zegandaria, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov [classic novels for teens .TXT] 📗

CHAPTER ONE: CHARON

And here we are on Charon. Many believe the souls of the dead hover here. At least, that's what they've been saying for a long time. All around is silence. So deafening, it's enough to drive you mad. We are the last remaining outsiders from Zegandaria. But more on that later. For now, suffice it to say that many of the things I thought earlier were not true at all, quite the opposite in fact. The more time passed, the worse it got.

Loneliness did not bear well on most of us. There were madmen. There were the crippled. But we tried to be strong and continue on our way as it was meant to be. Somewhere in there was the hope that Charon would be just a starting point for our space travels once civilization on our distant planet was destroyed. There was no way it could be otherwise.

The atmosphere on Charon was generally pretty sparse and not very friendly, but that's not what I mean. The temperature on its surface was practically close to absolute zero. Astronomers' findings attest to its past formation after a collision with an object in the Kuiper belt[1] billions of years ago. It sounds exciting, but in practice it was just a huge chunk of rock covered in ice. It's named after that angry boatman who ferried the dead across the River Styx, where they began their afterlife.  And there my knowledge stops.

When we moved, we were told this place would be heaven and promised a new life. Few of us had memories of our previous planet.

On Charon, though, we bury the dead in silence. We don't want the Unknowns to read our minds and lose even this last refuge.

Life goes on monotonously and rather listlessly, but I try to do something meaningful in my meaningless daily life.

In general, one of the few things I see are pissed off faces of people who don't know where to go. It's pretty depressing. The colonization of this satellite didn't go particularly smoothly, and even now we survive under almost spartan conditions.

Everyone is forced to contribute to the common good. This is the situation. It couldn't be otherwise, after the loss of our planet and most of the Outer Ring planets.

Every day the same thing is repeated. Of course, many of us never went to school. But we are taught from a young age to beware of the Unseen. These creatures take the form of your thoughts and can catch you even as you sleep. Many times I have had nightmares of being eaten, which is not pleasant.

So many of us have almost nothing to do on this little colony. Zegandaria is a dead world to us, located at an incommensurably great distance. At least it's cozy here and the few survivors try to lift our spirits day to day. Sure, there are some who go crazy, but that happens too.

Astronomer-scientists have convinced us that the view from our little satellite is most beautiful - it couldn't compare with hot Venus, nor rocky Mercury, nor cold Neptune.

We rejoiced at the opportunity of obtaining a last haven where we could secure our existence. It was all a matter of time. The few veterans of the City of the Sun wanted to help, and when they left it with Von Blask, they decided to settle here. The place was relatively little explored and it was a chance for us to get some development on how to survive on our own. On Zegandaria everything was too well settled and we didn't appreciate it at all.

Von Blask was seventy years old, but his appearance was indicative enough that he had no intention of giving up and giving up the front.

The veteran's psyche is something special and very important. He never fights for himself, or for anything arbitrary, but defends the weak and infirm - those who need protection.

Von Blask shed a tear as he and Sasia parted - he knew things get tough when you part with an old friend. She tried to comfort him:

- I'm going to the planet Ufur Gan. Maybe we won't see each other again. But you saved my life.

Von Blask wasn't the sentimental type, and he had a white beard to boot.

A mass of folk had died under his guns, but he was tough enough to realize something. When someone kills you, you owe him, not for anything else, but because you didn't bother to work your way up. In that tedious scrabble to achieve nothing! Von Blask knew that the fate of many wounded soldiers who resided in the 'City of Light' was quite tragic. Some died there among their own kind. Craving for attention and understanding. No one could tell what was going through the heads of perishing loners. They were doomed by their very birth. But they knew that some kind of salvation awaited them in the afterlife. Or at least they wished it were so!

Von Blask made a commitment to save people, and set out to fulfill it. It was his mission, and he would follow it to the end. Many marveled at his vigor and asked him what he would do next, since he was losing his sanctuary after leaving the City of Light. But he was determined to help many.

[1] The Kuiper belt is a part of the solar system located at a distance of 30 AU to 50 AU from the Sun with an inclination close to the ecliptic. It is a circumstellar disk extending beyond the planets. It is similar to the Asteroid Belt but much larger - 20 times wider and 20 to 200 times more massive.

CHAPTER TWO: A VETERAN

When you've lived this long, you just want to be gone, like an unneeded leaf in the fall. Von Blask knew that after the dissolution of the City of Light, many would ask, "Now where?" So much trepidation and hope. So many expectations. And here they were, already close to their final destination? Was this their calling all these years? Is this what they fought for? These questions frankly tormented him, but on the other hand they were his support and helped him move forward. Somewhere in there he could hear the voice of change in his head. Of that which would propel him and define his life for the next ten or fifteen years. He was too old now, he was downright ancient by Zegandarian standards, where the average lifespan was around fifty years and few rarely exceeded it.

Try as they might, the veterans were remorseful about their further fate. They didn't know what to do and therein lay their tragedy. They wanted to continue on their way and be of use to society, but their resocialization was problematic.

A man like Von Blask was chosen to deal with and solve this problem.

Before their redistribution, some details had to be clarified as well. One of them concerned their past, which was quite often dark. The problem was that they were recruiting (or recruiting) people from the poorest districts of Enzok Ra, and sometimes even from some desert oases somewhere in Learnia. There was no guarantee what these people had done before they committed themselves to their professional careers. But Von Blask didn't want to be presumptuous. Their private lives were their own business. They were being asked to kill, and not care in the process. If they pulled the trigger, then they were getting up. That was his philosophy.

He'd always viewed the Zegandarian Confederacy as a bunch of shitheads and assholes who'd only clung to their earnest privileges and hadn't even sniffed a fight for the simple reason that they hadn't left their Archison - and that mattered. It wasn't as if you were at the head of the chain of command and some snot-nosed sap was evaluating your actions through a cyclotron synthesizer. It was a simplicity that never changed over time.

Von Blask had a simple battle prayer:

"I am always angry, I enter combat without fear, then I sleep soundly, I have committed no sin!"

None of his soldiers, members of the platoon under his command, had ever raised any complaint because he treated them badly or did not respect their fighting qualities.

Von Blask was only too happy about that fact. But he knew in his heart that a new and terrible battle was beginning for the survival of the younger generation, and he would see it through.

It was far easier to populate the planets of the so-called Outer Ring - there were fewer trade restrictions at this point, and they were relatively distant from Zegandaria, though the distance to the nearest planet was on the order of a hundred parsecs. But the tachyon engines could easily overcome it.

As the ex-fighters gathered, they looked at him admiringly, his tall stature of almost six feet five inches[1] inspiring confidence that he knew what he was doing and could still shoulder this latest challenge.

- "And where exactly are we going to go?, was the logical question on their part. - Kikluk Sor is too narrow - not for anything else, but because there are no prospects for development there. I just don't see what we can do," called Ezonald Erdumsan, who was one of his most trusted men.

-  "We could just go to Osonia," suggested another.

For some time there were various suggestions.

-  "Gene Paley was killed on Sebur Nag, ugly as that sounds," Von Blask replied grimly. "It's a beautiful planet and its inhabitants are peaceful, but it can't be our home. We need a place of our own, like the planet Zegandaria itself was. This we must seek well."

Ezonald Erdumsan decided to take part in their discussion:

- What about Charon?

-  "What is that?," most puzzled, but after some searching they found out it was a small satellite of the dwarf planet Pluto.

-  "Strange name," Von Blask muttered.

-  "They're said to be sometimes thought of as a double planet, " Erdumsan spoke up, still a little of his knowledge.

-  "Which would mean?," some of the soldiers asked.

-  "Which would mean that it is as big as its own planet," Von Blask explained to them in turn. "Why not?"

-  "And what are the climatic conditions?," someone else asked.

-  "Well, it's covered in ice with a temperature close to absolute zero," Erdumsan added wryly.

-  "Then this place is extremely dangerous and unsuitable?," they contradicted him.

-  "It is, but we can build a temporary settlement until we find a suitable planet that is really ready to receive us," Von Blask suggested to them, wanting to punch his pet in the shoulder.

-  "The evidence suggests that there is a planet Earth that is only a distance from...," stammered Erdumsan.

-  "Wait, wait," replied Von Blask. "Your idea is generally worth considering, but on two serious conditions. What is the potential capacity of the residence and how long could we stay?"

-  "I'd put the question another way," Erdumsan tried to put all his knowledge into words, "its four moons