The Web and the Stars Read Free Page B

and the Council of Elders had learned all of this, using their Timeweb connections.
    “Timian One is gone?” Dux said. “I can’t believe it.”
    “Along with Plevin Four, Earth, and Mars.”
    “Mars!” Acey said, leaning forward and accidentally knocking his tea over. “Dux and I saw what was left of it!” Acey sopped up tea with a napkin while relating how they had been aboard a podship that passed by the debris field, and the horrors that the passengers saw.
    “We thought a huge meteor must have struck the planet,” Dux said.
    “No meteor,” Eshaz said. “The Mutatis have a terrible weapon.” He went on to tell the boys what he knew about Noah’s involvement and the pod-killer sensor-guns he caused to be set up on pod stations orbiting all merchant prince planets, weapons that were designed to blast podships the minute they arrived from space, since they might contain Mutati weapons. Then he added, “Unfortunately, Noah is now a prisoner of the Doge.”
    “He sacrificed himself for the merchant princes, and that’s how they reward him?” Acey said. “What kind of gratitude is that?”
    “The ways of your race are most peculiar,” Eshaz said. “Despite Noah’s bravery, Doge Lorenzo and Francella Watanabe are speaking against him, blaming the cutoff of podship travel on him. They don’t provide details or reasons, only the false assertion that it is the fault of Noah and his Guardians, and they will be punished for their misdeeds.”
    “They’re lying!” Acey exclaimed.
    “Of course they are,” Eshaz said. “It is one of the things Humans do best. The truth is, Noah Watanabe is a most remarkable man, rare among the galactic races.”
    “We need to get back and help him,” Dux said.
    “But we cannot get to Canopa anymore,” Eshaz said, “or to any other merchant prince planet.”
    “That puts a crimp in our travel plans,” Dux said.
    Looking out the window of the private dining room, watching the cosmic mists swirling around the Tulyan Starcloud, Eshaz said, “Podships aren’t going to Human or Mutati worlds anymore. After they were attacked at Canopa, the creatures started avoiding potential war zones.”
    “The podships made that decision?” Dux asked, his eyes open wide. “A boycott?”
    Eshaz hesitated, for he knew Parviis controlled the vast majority of podships and must have made the decision themselves. He just nodded, then pointed to the nearby pod station, in synchronous orbit over the starcloud. “For what it’s worth to you, we can still travel throughout the rest of the galaxy.”
    “I’ve always suspected that podships are smarter than people say,” Dux said, “that they’re not really big dumb animals.”
    “I am not permitted to say much about them outside the Council Chamber. I will tell you this, however, my young friends. The Tulyan people have had a relationship with the Aopoddae going back for more years than you can imagine. In modern times our connection with that race has been much more limited than in the past, but I hope to change that one day.”
    Deep in thought, trying to imagine what the Tulyan was not telling him, Dux nodded, and gazed out the window of the Visitor’s Center. The young man watched a podship leave the pod station. As the spacecraft accelerated, it became a flash of light that shifted from pale to brilliant green, like an emerald comet. Then it was gone, vanishing into the black void of the cosmos.

Chapter Five
    As Human beings, we are often not proficient at considering the consequences of our actions. Rather, we plunge forward carelessly, taking the path of least resistance. Short-term pleasure. But for the sake of our children and grandchildren, we need to look farther ahead than the stubby tips of our noses.
    —Noah Watanabe, Eco-Didactics
    With his ears attuned to every noise, Noah heard footsteps. Boots, but he could not recognize the stride, the one foot scuffing. Maybe it was another doctor coming to examine his