Chapter 8: The Death of Hanson
In the future that Aquari speeds towards, the planet Urania had suffered another direct hit by a solar flare from the white dwarf star Tze-Doldus. Tze-Doldus had been a miniature star, much smaller then the flaming heavenly body above the skies of Earth, yet it filled the skies of Urania because of the close proximity of objects in this miniature solar system. In addition to a planet wide blackout of all electricity for about ten minutes, there were also small upper atmosphere fires that were giving the air of this morning a smoky odor. The upper atmosphere weather seemed to magically respond to put out the fires. Beataphoriah constructed upper atmosphere vegetation on Urania, which suspended itself with jellyfish-like balloon plants that were filled with something similar to helium on Earth. Insects had every adapted here to serve the vegetation’s pollination purposes.
The fire and brimstone smell of the atmosphere haunted the capital city of Keshdesh as the Aungtalli Bishop’s hit man Volock, picked up the prisoner Hanson from the jail to be taken to the Bishop at the temple for questioning. Hanson knew what they wanted from him. They wanted to know where the other Ministry scientists ran off to, and Hanson expected the Bishop to also be fishing for information about just how much ancient history had been uncovered by archaeologists last year in the Southern Desert. Hanson gave Volock no resistance as Volock escorted him to the anti-gravity vehicle, and flew from the Keshdesh jail to the local Aungtalli temple where the Bishop waited.
Volock’s flying saucer powered by virtual particle technology landed on the top of the large green rectangle of a temple set in the center of Keshdesh among the Parliament buildings and King’s castle. Two pillars of mystery rose up on the roof above the large main doorway. Aungtalli temples feature two pillars of existence called Umu (The Inner) on the right side of the temple, and Timu (The Outer) on the left. They looked like two Corinthian pillars with perfect spheres atop each one. Uranians meditated on these two pillars of the world’s extremes when they entered the main rectangular entrance of blue doors between the pillars that metaphorically provided a middle path of salvation between the extremes of existence. The church taught disciples to find balance in their inner and outer worlds, and the church provided exercises to achieve that balance. They did not pray to a metaphysical god. Gods were understood as very physical overseers that Uranians genuinely tried not to piss off. Hanson was led from the flying saucer on the roof to a room in the temple below where the Bishop in all his pompous regalia awaited the prisoner for questioning. The Bishop chirped that moment in a more complex Aungtalli dialect, probably for the sake of sounding more superior and intimidating to the prisoner being led there like a lamb to slaughter.
“Hello Hanson captor.
You’re here from that prison before
Welcome to the great temple
I’ll just make this simple.
You’re here as a captor
welcomed through the Aungtalli door,
or to die, heretic, with your name known no more.”
Hanson, left alone in this room with the Bishop, became suddenly inspired to rise to the challenge of the Aungtalli dialect. “I know your words, what you are saying.
I heard of it before, you’re not playing.
A Uranian becomes like you
just in name, but also all you do.
A Uranian becomes Aungtalli
without death or prison folly
would be my deal to become Aungtalli,
but now this deal can not be through,
I still must give something to you.”
The Bishop looked visibly impressed with Hanson’s contribution to the song of the conversation. He liked the way Hanson got right down to business, and he would need little instruction in the ways of the Aungtalli since he could already chirp the dialect with apparent ease. “You are correct captor.
Admittance is only after
you concede now what you know.
Where are they? Where did they go?
Ministry Scientists
and their secrets are on the list
you give me to be Aungtalli. I must insist.”
Hanson replied. “Here is my answer if that is your terms.
I won’t let you kill them they are not germs.
This dies with me. I’m whom you get to burn.
They live on, along with knowledge they learn.
Your technology is in our coffer.
They have the secrets that you now offer
in exchange for higher Aungtalli ranks
with baldness also required, so no thanks.
I won’t sell out the Science Ministry.
You won’t get the knowledge I know for free.
I’ll remain silent till the end. You’ll see.”
The Bishop appeared sadly disappointed in Hanson’s answer. He knew Hanson to be a very intelligent Uranian, and would have made a good addition to the Aungtalli class. There were times in history when regular Uranians had been admitted to the Aungtalli class, and even allowed to mate with Aungtalli, which had been only very rarely successful. Regular Uranians who become Aungtalli were given access to their highly advanced knowledge and technologies. Uranians who became Aungtalli however, were required to shave their heads and become like the Aungtalli in that respect.
The Bishop had been the good cop in this interrogation. Now the time came for the bad cop. “Very well then captor,
If that is what you’ll give me for
the keys to all our secrets,
die with heretic’s regrets.
I would give you reward
for what you will now give by sword.
Interrogator Volock will have what you horde.”
Then the Bishop left the room while the much larger, less-robed form of Volock took his place. Volock decided to try harsher methods to find out from Hanson where the renegade scientists were hiding. Perhaps they were somewhere outside the city, in the direction Eromot headed before Volock burned him alive with a high-tech laser weapon? The Aungtalli had long suspected the activities of some of the farmers east of Keshdesh. Perhaps Huras or Villsua, or one of the other small cities to the east were hiding the runaway scientists. Volock thought perhaps they had even run as far as Gulfang. Gulfang existed in part of the Swerites territories where Uranians resisted the other species on the planet, and a controversial treaty had been all that stopped the people of Gulfang from closing down all their Aungtalli churches. Volock became determined to try to persuade Hanson to surrender this information. Hanson however, became determined to die a martyr, like a good Uranian. This would eventually become obvious to Volock before he decided to let the Bishop try again as the good cop with kinder, gentler methods of request.
Ploabot sat at his desk in the Parliamentary District Representative offices awaiting a chirp from his pocket phone laying on the desk. A member of his staff had been at the Aungtalli temple to find out what happened to his friend Hanson. All Ploabot had been told was that the Aungtalli had an offer for Hanson that would spare him from being put to death as a heretic. The people were really getting fed up with the so-called “crime” of heresy being considered worthy of capital punishment. Aungtalli were always waving the accusation of heresy around like a weapon of abused power. After all, the years were in the 200,000’s as Uranians liked to say, and death for heresy had been widely considered primitive and savage these days. The old childish games of religion and politics were being found by the masses to be inadequate solutions for the ever-growing population of Uranians. It appeared to the foresight of Ploabot that the future was coming soon to chase the present power structures away into the buried past of history.
The pocket phone just returned Ploabot’s gaze with silence. Ploabot thought something about a watched pocket phone never chirping. He had gone
into politics to play his part in what Hanson used to call “the cause.” They both grew up wanting to bring down the establishment, but then they grew up. They ended up joining the establishment, and matured in the wisdom that there had been no need to tear down a perfectly good power structure, or at least infrastructure, if it could just be fixed from within without a lot of violence, loss, and damage. Hanson went into the fields of science and technology to make Urania a better place, and Ploabot became a highly respected nominated representative of the people. Now it all seemed to have come full circle in their lives as the establishment turned on them to maintain an unsustainable status quo. Ploabot could sense that the future was on its way, and the death of Hanson would not stop it.
Ploabot’s phone was small and wireless like the modern cell phones of Earth. That had been thanks to receiver technology as its energy source. Receiver technology had been just one secret to Aungtalli energy that the Ministry of Science, which now had been shut down, contributed to for a better future. Now it seemed like the Ministry was on the verge of finding out that this precious energy, which had been fueling their society, was everywhere free for the taking, and the power structures of control wanted scientists who were discovering this all dead in order to maintain their unnecessary energy racket. A repetitive one-note chirp announced a call on the pocket phone lying on the desk. A startle ran across Ploabot as he responded to press the answer button.
It had been the awaited staff member call. Holding the phone to his ear just like on Earth, Ploabot answered the call. “Hello if it is Ploabot that you seek,
I’m now on the line. You need only speak.”
The voice on the phone said, “Ploabot sir, it’s now time for me to call.
Hanson won’t join them. His fate is downfall.”
Ploabot felt stung by the information even though it had been what he expected. “I didn’t expect Hanson to agree
to betray science to the Aungtalli.”
The staff member on the phone explained. “The story as I have here been given
is that Hanson is now to be driven
back to be put to death in the prison.
Their offers to him he would not listen.
He was offered Aungtalli class status,
which he refused and threw right back at us.
Now the Aungtalli Bishop has said
Hanson tonight is sentenced to be dead.”
Ploabot thanked the staff member for the information before ending the phone conversation. He had actually expected this outcome for a very long time since this whole mess began when the Ministry of Science got shut down because of breakthroughs and discoveries they had made. The more Ploabot worked in government the more he resented the influence of the Aungtalli who were chaining down democracy with theocratic oppression. The gods be damned, had been Ploabot’s true feelings. Hanson had been his friend.
Ploabot decided that this news needed to be conveyed to Hanson’s girlfriend Veldada. She was only a girlfriend because they had not yet become married by her bearing Hanson an egg, but they had been trying for dozens of years now, just without success. Veldada had only been 226 years old, so they had many more years of fertility in order to try. Ploabot decided to leave the office and take the public transport bus to the suburb of Keshdesh where Veldada lived. He figured telling her that Hanson would be put to death tonight should be delivered in person. Ploabot always felt a special bond with Veldada. Ever since she learned that Ploabot had been Hanson’s best friend she had gone out of her way to make Ploabot her best friend too. At least that wasn’t going to stop after Hanson’s execution. Ploabot shook off the terribly selfish thought that then tried to entertain his mind.
The streets of Keshdesh were still gloomy from smoke caused by atmosphere fires, swimming around the ground to limit vision as it engulfed far away objects, and gave the air an inescapable smoky odor. Right outside the parliament were gathered a crowd of thousands of mostly youth that were still there day after day to protest the closing of the Ministry, and to Ploabot’s surprise, some held signs protesting the unfair death sentence imposed on his friend Hanson. Apparently they had all received the news even before that insider staff member called him. Ploabot couldn’t make out how many were actually there because the multitude faded away into the smoky air.
A youth who looked all troopaloo addled approached Ploabot with recognition. “Sorry for the King’s humiliation,
but in truth you support the whole nation.
We support you Ploabot for your efforts.
Sorry about your friend, we know it hurts.
You can depend on us for reliance
to open the Ministry of Science.”
Ploabot mostly just smiled in appreciation, and shook hands as the crowd in recognition began to close in on him. The events of the last audience left Ploabot with the impression that he had been a politician grossly out of step with the collective will he represented. Now however, he found himself a hero of the people, or at least most of the youth counter-culture movement to re-open the Ministry of Science. Had Urania really been so evenly divided into extremes? “Condolence for Hanson is well suited.
How did you learn he’ll be executed?”
A lot of the protesters chirped a smug laughter amongst the crowd while one volunteered an answer. “No secret kept in the establishment
can be hidden for long from our movement.
We’ve organized a lot of influence
to learn what news tells us much later since
it’s been covered up and then lied about.
We’ve learned Eromot left Keshdesh without
saying a word, and then died in a crash.
News won’t tell us what should be a news flash.”
The news of Eromot’s death had been also news to Ploabot who had not yet heard anything from the official news outlets. There obviously had been no shortage of good journalists out there in the crowd. Ploabot had been in a hurry to tell Veldada about Hanson’s fate before the seventh hour of the Uranian day made it too late. He quickly gave a quick speech to the crowd to announce his investigation of the allegation that his last audience with the King had been deliberately stacked against him by an audience made up of those allowed to have special tickets. Ploabot had referred his evidence and investigative conclusions to the Justice Ministry for consideration. The crowd became grateful for the information from Ploabot, which they actually didn’t already know. In fact Ploabot noticed that they seemed armed with that information, like he had just handed them a weapon. Ploabot felt a warm feeling of flashback to his own rebellious youth, when the future had possibilities that were still not shattered by futility. They were already organizing ways to pressure the Justice Ministry on behalf of Ploabot’s investigation as Ploabot walked away from his office building. He felt empowered by these crowds of fed up Uranians. They looked like that future he saw earlier that had been on its way, collectively determined to fix the present.
Veldada became glued to the non-entertaining television channel for any news about what happened to her boyfriend Hanson. The city had already turned the power back on since Hanson was now in custody, and there were no legal reasons to not allow Veldada back on the power grid. Veldada had not been legally linked to Hanson because they had yet to have children together. There had been no news about Hanson on the television, but it did just announce that Eromot and Morgamor had lost control of a vehicle and accidentally drove off a cliff to their deaths. There had been no doubt in Veldada’s mind that it was not an accident, but a murder, another murder. That became reason enough to start releasing the tears that were on reserve for the bad news she awaited regarding Hanson. Then Ploabot knocked on the door. She got up and opened the front door.
“Hello Veldada, after it has been
too long since I saw you. May I come in?”
Veldada’s eyes were full of greetings. “Hello Ploabot old friend. Yes, do come in.
<
br /> I’m happy to welcome you here again.
I don’t welcome however, news you bring
that I hear in sounds from the song you sing.
My Hanson is to die, even today.
You need not tell me. You don’t have to say.”
Ploabot acknowledged that what Veldada sensed, without a word being said, had been true. Hanson had been interrogated for hours before being declared a heretic, and sentenced to die with the Sun’s disappearance below the horizon. They sat together for awhile and comforted each other. There was nothing they could do. Veldada cried, and soaked Ploabot’s shirt with her deluge of tears. She loved Hanson and mourned the child she failed to bear for him; who would now never be born.
Ploabot in no hurry, would have stayed with her as long as she wanted. It really wasn’t long however, before Veldada seemed in a hurry to send Ploabot on his way home. Ploabot figured that if she had anything up her sleeve he would be more than willing to just let her run with it. He left after a final embrace and a promise to call soon to talk some more.
Another reason Hanson supplied himself with an alternate power source had been in order to use a computer network communication protocol he had developed along with other Ministry scientists. Hanson’s skills were really organization, administration, and leadership, while surrounding himself with all the highest educated geniuses he could find for the Ministry of Science he had presided over. They produced this network protocol, which would even be in commercial production now if the Ministry of Science had not been closed down. Hanson had been using the communication protocol to keep in touch with the scientists who were hiding out a thousand miles away in Gulfang. The network data had been able to flow along the Aungtalli wire power grid, hopefully beyond detection, as it piggybacked on the same wire in the form of encrypted static.
Veldada entered the hidden room behind the clothes in the bedroom closet where the personal computer device that they had developed for the communication protocol had been setup. This personal computer device had just been introduced to commercial production recently, which began the signs from the Aungtalli that the Ministry of Science would be shut down if it kept producing success like that. Veldada began typing the keyboard of characters that represented the chirping language. Each letter of a word had been also a syllable, typed along with one of four other keys that placed the letter on one of four scale lines. Each letter also had a directional, or a dot form that determined how it would be sung.
Veldada typed, “Ministry members, Veldada this is,
girlfriend of Hanson, and your accomplice.
I write bad news that Hanson is to die
tonight at sundown for no reason why.
In this same message I also must say
that Eromot was killed while on his way
to join you where you are. I do not know
what I should do now, or where I should go.”
That had been all she had to say. She had actually never used this thing but had often watched Hanson as he typed away on the board of keys. She was pretty sure the message had been sent. It disappeared after she pressed the send key from the monitor screen where the letters had appeared on the screen’s stanza lines. Something on the corner of the screen started blinking. Suddenly a message appeared on the screen in response.
“Of executing Hanson, this we know,
but Eromot’s death we wish were not so.
Stay where you are. Do nothing. Do not dare.
Ministry scientists will soon be there.
Hanson should not die. We’ll do all we can.
We want to rescue him. We have a plan.”
After the conversation Veldada became glad she decided to contact the scientists that Hanson gave up his life to protect. She became grateful for the hope they just provided, which had refreshed her sorrowful disposition even if hope would be all it turned out to be. They couldn’t possibly save Hanson in time. Veldada thought they were as far away as Gulfang. That’s at least a couple day’s away while driving all day long.