The Adventures of Deacon Coombs Read Free

governor’s palace. Inside, the revered statesman Como rehearsed his speech; outside, the crowd swelled in anticipation of hearing their beloved Como. Few would miss his oration, which would be broadcast live into every home on this frigid evening on Aralia, where the nearest sun, Alpha Centauri, was 150 million miles distant, and Beta Centauri only a glimmer at this time of year.
    The Aralians, camped in front of the majestic massive stone structure, were huddled close together. Their shiny, soft white fur, which prevented heat loss, covered their entire body except for their bare feet and powerful lower legs. The first reports ever written on Earth describing Aralians noted that they resembled shaggy dogs found on Earth, because of their small, pointed snouts and beady red eyes. The females had significant white hair growth on their faces, while the males had tough, exposed scaly cheeks.
    The glossy bottoms of their feet allowed Aralians to glide at high speeds over the icy and snowy surfaces on Aralia. These nude soles were more effective than the best waxed skis of Earth, while their long, awkward limbs served to steer the body by shifting their weight to and fro. Aralians continued to propel themselves into position in the winter wonderland in front of the palace grounds to pay homage to their leader, Como.
    More of the crowd assembled toward a specially installed viewing screen that was currently broadcasting the feats of Como over the background music of the national anthem. The biography recalled how the young general had proved his value to his homeland by saving them from the tyrannical clutches of the planet Zublear.
    Aralians reached a crescendo with their yowling and fussing as they witnessed footage of Como trading the safety of Aralian lives for valuable Aralian ores to be shipped to Zublear. Aralia would lose income but be allowed to retain the continuance of their precious individual pursuits. Several years later, as deadly bacteria encompassed Zublear, Como silenced his critics as he delivered the antidote to Zublear in return for an end to the exportation of valuable ore shipments and the cessation of Zublearian military strikes. Both nations praised his efforts. The assembly knew this tale but enjoyed revisiting the heroics of Como.
    The protruding balcony from which Como would sermonize tonight was adorned in brilliant crimson and malachite—the colors of Aralia. It was situated on the third floor of the elongated, silky, blue palatial hall, halfway down the rectangular square that comfortably held seventy thousand Aralians.
    Como finally appeared on the balcony and on the screen. A thunderous applause reverberated across the square, climbing into the high-pitched shrill of “Co-mo, Co-mo.” He savored this moment. Then, to demonstrate his power to himself, he lifted his arms over his head to ask for silence while relishing his frenetic patrons.
    His shaggy silver hair betrayed his years, as did his hair loss, which resulted in random patches of bare skin and bone over his body. In place of his usual enthusiastic countenance, the red of sadness prevailed in his eyes.
    He welcomed his viewers from around the planet and then dwelled on the economic state of affairs for some time before focusing on his main agenda. In a melancholy tone, he commenced.
    “My dear, dear Aralians, I stand before you tonight with the shame of all Aralians, for it is disgrace that I must speak of.” Curiosity and attentiveness now gripped the gathering. “For years, the Union of Space Traders has been conducting illegal trade practices.” He paused and glared below to silence a group who dared to speak while he orated.
    “Corruption among the traders has led to bullying tactics, such as holding precious cargoes for ransom, selling contraband for healthy profits, and providing arms to subversive organizations. The traders’ actions have been well monitored by agents of the High Alliance. In an attempt to put an end to