Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE




"It’s called a floppy disk, you say?" Sollalia muttered. It felt rigid in his hand. "It's actually quite stiff." 

"No, no, it’s the material inside," explained the boy. Snapping it out of Soll’s hand Gellseno slid back the cover revealing the disk inside. "There… It’s a very thin layer of magnetic coated Mylar."

"My-what?"

"Never mind, it’s not important. All you need to know is that this is authentic. This was made on Earth." He scanned the label for the words ‘Assembled In USA’ and pointed them out to Soll. "It's the real thing."

"I see," Soll mumbled. "Is it still in wide use?"

"No. It's very old technology even by Earth standards, but there are still machines that will accept the floppy disk."

"Good. That’s good," Soll said quietly. "Now, how do I use it? Will I need an Earth machine of some sort?"  

Gell walked quickly to the console. "It would give you a feel of authenticity if that's what you were looking for, but no, you won’t actually need one. Since the Renegade resurfaced… You know as well as I what that means. Certain Earth artifacts are going to be difficult to come by for a while. We'll have to synthesize a drive unit for you right here," he waved his hand over the console. "Have you thought about what sort of application you want to use?"

"Application?"

"You’ll have to bear with me, sir. Earth computers are quite beastly. They are clumsy and non-intuitive - you literally have to tell them what to do. And then, of course, the person accessing your marvelous creation will have to have the same application or it will display pure gibberish. Now we can create a self contained wrapper that will allow it to run anywhere, but I thought you were looking for authenticity." Gell’s grin stretched as Soll’s bewilderment grew. "Believe me, I am serious, beasts, these things are beasts. You’ll see for yourself soon enough."

Soll's days at the Institute ended long before the information age on Earth had begun. Like many people of his generation he understood what Earth computers could do, but had little knowledge of how they actually worked.

Gell smiled slightly, "Now, if you tell me what you want to do with it..." The nervous tick of Soll's quick movements to tidy up the space between them brushed aside the boy's question. "Or, maybe not..."

"Nothing important really," Soll said rapidly "The console can assist me with whatever I’ll need." Desperate to steer Gell away from the subject he  offered a meaningless disclaimer. "It’s just a silly little project I started a very long time ago. Someone like you would be bored with foolishness of an old man."

"That’s not so. Well, I am curious why you insisted on this being authentic." Gell held up the floppy disk. "We both know a synthesizer could make an exact replica, or something a little more modern."

"What is a replica?" Soll asked rhetorically. "It’s nothing more than a fake." Soll reached up and pulled something from the shelf. Young Gell, being perhaps the world’s eminent scholar on Earth culture, instantly recognized the familiar shape of a Coca-Cola bottle. "Tell me Gellseno, how does the old familiar saying go?"

Gell’s shoulders dropped as Soll’s point struck a chord. "It’s the real thing..."

"Need I say more?"

"Point taken. Then, if I may ask, who would know the difference?"

"I would," Soll said tersely, his voice raised. He immediately regretted it. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across that way. It’s just that I take my studies very seriously, as I know you do." Eager to get off the subject Soll put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I understand your work on the Bolshevik revolution has stirred up some controversy."

Gell took the not so subtle hint; responding humbly. "A little, I guess. I’ve contended for a long time that Lenin’s role was quite misunderstood by most historians on Earth and on Orr. Had he not died when he did and the butcher Stalin not bullied his way into power the Soviet Union might have been able to compete with American market capitalism for the hearts of the common people around the world. This was especially true during that critical time when the western economies went into the Great Depression. It was crucial time for democracy and the ideology of the free market system. Fortunately Stalin showed the world the true face of Soviet communism." Gell stopped when he realized he’d gone into more detail than Soll had had in mind. "It’s always great fun to stir things up among the Mentors. They can be so arrogant."

"I agree, I caused enough trouble for them in my time" Soll added with a smile. "I hope to do it again."

"What is your thesis on?" Gell asked while Soll slowly shook his head. "If you don’t mind my asking…"

He sighed. "Of course, I’ve been a little evasive, I know…" He realized denying Gell a credible explanation would only raise his suspicions. "I guess it’s no secret I’ve been interested in the media’s manipulation of the public on Earth for a long time," he offered. "In America they call it the fourth estate because its power rivals the influence of the three branches of the government on public policy. Or, is it so completely controlled by the unseen government as to be one and the same? " Soll grabbed the disk and held it up. "I intend to present my studies to the mentors the same way many people have gotten around the manipulations of the media on Earth... A subtle point, but powerful just the same."

"The Internet." Gell offered.

Soll nodded. "Exactly. So you see why I need this to be authentic. This floppy disk as you call it is of the era when the Internet was born, an important moment in Earth's history. If I presented a replica would I not be guilty of the same kind of manipulation used by the media on Earth? "

"Indeed, I really must see this when it’s finished. Would you object?"

"I would be honored to have you review my work. If authenticity is the goal then I can think of no one better to check my accuracy than you."
 
Again, Soll put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. "Let me thank you for getting this for me. I know you have taken a great risk. I guess we both know the High Council’s policy on trafficking Earth contraband has more than a few holes in it."

"I must admit it was a strange request coming from a sitting member of the High Council..."

"Say no more," Soll warned, his finger covering his lips. "These walls have ears."

***
It was dark by the time Gellseno began the trip back to the city. Soll watched from the edge of the pad as the Network transporter cleared the treetops and disappeared. The day had passed without his notice. Surrounding him on all sides the sounds of night echoed ceaselessly through the jungle. He stood quietly watching the pale orange sky through the forest canopy as wispy thin wave clouds past silently overhead. It would rain tomorrow.

Gellseno was an enigma to him. The boy seemed wise beyond his years. There was a certain something in his way, a maturity, a polish, that belied his young age. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he knew he liked the boy immensely. Perhaps it was because being with Gell forced him to review his own life. His youth had been preoccupied with mischief making and merriment, whereas young Gell actually seemed more interested in studying Earth than girls or parties. Nevertheless, it was precisely the boy’s passion for Earth that rekindled memories of himself when he was that age.

His own son, Dakkalia, was the risk taker, a real player, and not a static analyst like himself. At this very moment, Dakk was somewhere beyond the sun tripping among the stars seeking an immortality his father could never understand. Ultimately, Soll was content to explore the galaxy from the safety of Orr. In all his years he had never even ventured beyond the moon Jarr. Perhaps his having an irrational fear of the hyper-sleep pods that countless colonists and tourists had traveled in for centuries, precluded his opportunity to explore deep space for himself.

He smiled inwardly. There was only one place he would go if he ever left the safe confines of Orr's gravity again. While he had never been to Earth, he knew many people who had. Some made the trip legally, but most had not. Their stories were always perfectly captivating and wonderfully told. But none compared to the original. Deppopio, the Great One himself, could tell a tale like no other. One never grew tired of hearing it.

When they met many years ago it did not seem likely that they would ever become friends. Soll was a brash, young student at Terrekka’s City’s famous Institute of Earth, the school that Deppopio himself had founded. Depp was the Institutes High Mentor and a staunch supporter of the High Council’s Earth policy. Stubbornly contentious and naturally defiant, Sollalia, of course, was not. Yet, incredibly, the relationship that grew between them profoundly changed the face of Orrian politics. By the weight of his actions Soll had unwittingly launched Deppopio’s remarkable political career. It was a rise that propelled him into the Supreme High Chair of the Orrian High Council. What had begun as a lesson in animosity between mentor and student found the young man ultimately following his master to the table.

In a youthful zeal to stir up trouble among the cultural preservationists, young Sollalia had carefully and anonymously created a mythical character that came to symbolize a growing movement among the idealistic young people at the Institute. The rebel group affectionately known as the "Earthies" was suspected of causing the UFO phenomenon on Earth. Led by the mysterious Renegade, (the name coined by Deppopio himself) the rebels released thousands of drones disguised as atmospheric monitors into Earth's orbit. Each drone lay dormant and undetectable until activated. For the next forty years the Earth was plagued by unusual disturbances in the skies. The drones, once spent, would self-destruct leaving not a single trace of their existence.

At first it was great fun. The drones performed flawlessly. The preservationists were clearly outraged and a new political movement on Orr was energized. Everything was working out perfectly for the rebels but for one small matter. Soll had counted on a revolution on Earth that never happened. There was no outcry from the people of the blue planet, no demand for answers. Yes, there were some reports in the newspapers but no one seemed to treat them very seriously. It seemed as though the citizens of Earth were born skeptics. No physical evidence was ever found and without the participation of the mainstream media there was nothing tangible for the people to rally around. There was a deliberate stonewalling of every investigation by Earth's powerful governments, even going so far as to pay off other nations to do the same. They had successfully labeled anyone who cried UFO a nut or a charlatan. Soll was disheartened. He began to regret what he had done. But there was no turning back. The drones would continue to activate randomly until they were all gone.

At the Institute, students began forming a new political party in opposition to the cultural preservationists. The preservationists, supported by Deppopio was a powerful, organized force that was not going to be easily dislodged from power. Incredibly, what the Renegade had set into motion rolled forward on its own momentum. A battle had begun and there would be no stopping it.

Understandably, it came as quite a surprise to Soll when Depp requested that he join the elite student group that studied directly under the Great One himself. At first, they were suspicious of each other; barely a word was spoken between them. Soll kept entirely to himself within the group. He was convinced Depp was only using him to get the Earthies to turn on the Renegade. Though Deppopio could not have known at the time, the Earthies did not actually exist. Soll had deliberately crafted the reputation of the rebel group as a cover for himself. Indeed, the Earthies and the Renegade were one in the same.

Whether Depp even suspected the truth didn't matter, it was plain to everyone that something was bothering the young man. Sometimes the defiant ones, Depp would later admit, were the ripest for re-education. The Master wasted no time with this one. Slowly, day by day he chipped away at the boy’s brittle exterior to expose lingering self-doubts that lay beneath the surface. Eventually he was able to convince Soll that the primitives had already altered Orrian life in profound ways. Things would never be same. There was no telling what might happen if Orr was to embrace the people of Earth. Depp explained that the primitives were like a pollutant that was gradually contaminating the flow of Orrian culture. The evidence was all around; Soll had just refused to see it before. His jaded eyes saw only a wondrous planet of unlimited potential shamefully squandering it all in a sea of violence and slaughter. To that end Depp’s point was made. Should they really take such a chance with their own rich and beautiful planet?

The Renegade was dead, and yet it wasn’t over for Soll. The head may have been severed but the spirit lived on. As much as he wanted to end it all, he could not recall the drones. He had designed them with intuitive intelligence; they could learn and adapt, eventually taking on a life of their own. They learned to avoid detection - any detection. Likewise, at home, he could not stop the swelling of the radical political party his handy work had spawned. It had gone far beyond an excitable group of students at the Institute. Remarkably, Earth Party candidates began winning seats on regional boards with their very first appearance on the ballot. Soll was paralyzed by it. He could not even offer to help his master fight for the preservationist’s cause for fear of exposing himself. He was powerless to do anything. He lived in fear that somehow his secret would be revealed. He rose to political power quietly, treading lightly in the shadow of his friend and Orr’s most famous citizen. He could only wait out the decades until the last of the drones mercifully burned themselves out.

When at last he was free, the drones finally gone, he found his voice again and led the charge against the Earth Party. He trounced them at every turn. He felt invincible. Together he and Deppopio joyously declared victory over a discredited political movement. But the celebration was short lived. Without warning, it began happening again.

"The Renegade is back!" Shouted the Wave reporters around the world. No one was more surprised than Soll himself. There was a new Renegade lurking in the shadows of the institute. More aggressive than the original, this Renegade was anything but subtle. Landing flying saucers on the White House lawn, buzzing Number 10 Downing Street and the Kremlin was something that defied logic. This new Renegade was not only boldly mocking the law but also taunting the authorities on both worlds.

The intrepid new Renegade had the effect the young Sollalia had desired so many years earlier. Every incident brought the drooling media one step closer to blowing the lid off. In two short years the primitives had their world turned upside. The once ridiculed UFO culture was now the king of the media mountain. The market system wasted no time in flooding the eager with all manner of goods and services further fueling the impending firestorm. The American government held fast against the criticism. The denials out of Washington only heightened the anxiety. All the major religions embraced the visitors as God’s messengers sent to declare the coming of judgment day. The UFO phenomena affected nearly everyone on the planet. It was the only topic at the coffee shop, on talk radio or YouTube. Everyone had questions - or answers.

On Orr, the reemergence of the Renegade had energized a dying political party. Public sentiment was beginning to change. The powerful Party of Orr, once seemingly invincible, began to crumble around the edges. Soll could not stop it. Even the great Deppopio could not slow the hemorrhaging. Unless the Renegade was found and stopped the Earth Party would take control of the Orrian High Council and put an end to the Earth Doctrine forever.

Through it all Soll’s relationship with Depp had become strained. The fact that Depp charged him with finding the elusive one struck Soll as odd at first. The more he thought about it, however, the more the brilliance of the man became clear. Strangely, he relished a task, as if somehow finding this dangerous person would clear his good name with someone he cherished. The sting of Depp’s disapproval was more than he could take.

In the end his investigation went nowhere. He had seemingly met his match. Turned away cold on every aspect of the chase, the only thing he learned was a connection between the Renegade and Galactic Mining and Mapping existed. He soon found that reaching into the depths of an organization as powerful as Galactic Mining and Mapping was an exercise in futility.

Membership into "the mining’s" exclusive club was highly coveted and few were willing to share their secrets with a sitting member of the High Council.

With nothing to show for his two years of work he could not face Deppopio again. Tending to his official High Council functions as a holographic projection he retreated to his shelter outside of Terrekka’s City. In Terrekkan jungleside, he could be alone.

Dakkalia, his only connection to the living, was the one thing in his life that made him proud. His only son, the wanderer, was in perpetual motion and even when he wasn’t strapped to the seat of a jumpship he was never at home. Soon his child would be settling into a jungle retreat of his own. In his heart he knew the time had come to free Dakk of the burden of being "his boy". He also knew that Dakk would never leave without his blessing. Soll had been so caught up in his own shallow life he failed to recognize that his son was a grown man ready to begin a life on his own.

He had become convinced there was a young woman in Dakk’s life now, though nothing was ever said about it. The mystery girl was no stranger but he would let Dakk introduce her in his own time. He was glad his son had found someone. He smiled to himself and his heart jumped. He dreamed of experiencing the fire of love again himself. There had been lovers since Teff but no love. There was a time when he convinced himself he would never fall in love again. How wrong he was…

Two years ago everything changed when a friend introduced him to an extraordinary woman residing in the most unlikely of places. It took just one look at her picture and his heart was captured. From that day he longed to meet her, to talk to her, to touch her, but she was so far away from him. There was only one person on Orr who could get his message to her. More than ever it was imperative he find the Renegade.

He reached into his pocket for the disk Gellseno had brought him. The two-dimensional shape felt odd to the touch but it brought a smile to his face. He had a letter to write.

He turned to walk back into the shelter when something caught his eye. Before his mind could register it the fleeting glimpse had vanished. A light of some sort, perhaps two, he mused. The symmetry suggested the running lights of a Network transporter, but that was unlikely. By rule, the Network must announce when it has dispatched a transporter so close to a residence. No such announcement had been made. He scanned the jungleside for evidence of luminent flies. The large, iridescent bug often flew in pairs. Squinting to capture the last of the sun’s rays he studied the dense underbrush. Seeing nothing, he continued walking toward the shelter, his thoughts already on something more important.


***

"You fool!" Larrvino screamed. "He saw us."

"Relax. I know what I’m doing," Gellseno assured him. "He’s so oblivious to the rest of the world right now we could fly this thing into to his welcome room and he wouldn’t even notice."

"You’d better be right. If you mess this up you can forget about our little arrangement."

Here come the threats again thought Gell. Larr had promised to procure him a passage to the only place in the galaxy he ever wanted to be. In exchange he would help Larr destroy Sollalia’s career. Gell had nothing against Soll, on the contrary, he believed Soll to be an honorable man, but he had his own interests to consider. Larrvino was a means to an end. The way things were going lately he was beginning to think that there had to be better means.

"You’ll know what he’s doing when I do." Gell added sarcastically. "What makes you think he’s the Renegade anyway?"

"That, my little friend, is none of your business," Larr said in his requisite condescending tone. "Your job," he continued, "boy wonder, is to find out what he intends to do with that disk and let me worry about the rest." With his eyes transfixed on Soll’s enormous sheltertree he said breathlessly, "that man in there has something I want."

His current rank with Deppopio not withstanding, Soll was heir apparent to the most coveted seat in the world. While Depp had considerable influence over the choice of his successor he had so thoroughly cleared the way for Soll that not even he could stop it now. If Larrvino ever stood a chance of snatching it for himself it was imperative Soll be completely disgraced and his political ambitions snuffed out. Once poised in the center of political power he alone would crush the Earth Party’s resurgence forever. The way Larr saw it, Deppopio didn’t have the heart to do what needed to be done. His academic background and his connection with Earth left room for differing points of view. If it were left up to a schizophrenic Sollalia the outcome was far from certain.

For a moment, there was complete silence inside the idled transporter. Gell could feel the intense concentration as Larr’s gaze burned into Soll's home. It wasn’t hate that Larr was feeling toward Soll - it was pure envy. Convinced that Soll didn’t deserve all that he had achieved Larr set out to prove to Deppopio that it was he who had carried the preservationist’s cause all these years. By all rights the party owed him the center chair on the Orrian High Council.
"He tried to tell me he needs the disk for a project at the Institute," Gell finally said. Larr said nothing, his unblinking eyes telling the story of his heart. "Anyway," Gell continued, "he was trying to satisfy me with some jumble about his research on Earth's media conglomerate. He was grasping for something. He didn’t really want to talk about it, I could tell he wanted to change the subject..."

"Would you be quiet?" Larr said politely. Gell stopped in mid-sentence his mouth agape. "Thank you. Now, get me out of here."