The Blue, Blue Hills of Xuhl

By John A. Kirk

At the heart of the story is the romance between Brogan, a Terran male pilot and Zalina, a female shape-shifter and the Xuhlan ambassador to Merkal.

Brogan is a pilot employed by Inter-Galactic Mining to ferry cargoes of ore back to Merkal from the outer perimeter of the Realm of the Five Planets (Terra, Merkal, Venool, Kanoor and Muliphan). Returning from his 13th trip, he brings some artifacts bought from an old miner on Proxanthus-6 and a dealer on Merkal urges him to take them to one specific buyer and to go at once and be very careful as the objects have great value.

Arriving at the business premises suggested by the dealer, he meets the Xuhlan, ostensibly a trader in off-world artifacts, but also the Xuhlan Ambassador to Merkal. Brogan has never even heard of Xuhlans and is immediately entranced by Zalina; " ... but all of these were incidental; nothing mattered except the incredible, beautiful eyes; large velvet black ovoids with bright, vertical, golden pupils." He agrees to be hired as a pilot and is drawn into a world of romance, intrigue and conflict with aliens from Jonos, a world near Xuhl, 68 light years away from the Five Planets through a 'rift in the fabric of space-time beyond Muliphan'.

On route to Xuhl, two Jonosian agents capture Brogan on Muliphan and torture him causing an enraged Zalina to track them down and slaughter them. On arrival at Xuhl, the Xuhlan High Council authorizes a reconnaissance mission to the Jonosian system to try and determine the Jonosians' strength and purpose and concludes they are preparing an invasion of Muliphan. While on Xuhl, Brogan is persuaded to undergo "the symbiosis" a bonding with the blue native Xuhlan plant life that will give him improved health and increased longevity through the alien DNA introduced into his body which will destroy all invading, harmful micro-organisms. Brogan knows this will inevitably tie him forever to Zalina and Xuhl.

The Xuhlan High Council order direct action to neutralize the immediate Jonosian threat and send Zalina and Brogan back through the wormhole to the Five Planets to inform the high councils on Muliphan and Merkal of the danger and to take a Xuhlan diplomatic delegation to Terra. Returning to Xuhl, they arrive in time to prevent a Jonosian attack on Xuhl and they are able to offer help to their enemies to deal with the problem which caused them to contemplate invading Muliphan.

There are humorous subplots in the romance between Brogan's virile buddy Cisco Marquez and Zalina's friend Shulan and in the investigation on Muliphan into the death of the two Jonosian agents.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John A. Kirk
• Release date: Nov 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310816024

John A. Kirk

I'm an ethnic Scot, a British national, Canadian citizen and Australian resident who has also lived in the USA and the People's Republic of China. I started writing science fiction seven years before I retired from a 40-year career in IT; I've had 4 sci-fi books published in Australia which comprise a trilogy and a separate 4th book. The trilogy are The Khellen Gift (2003), The Zhin Mutations (2006) and The Salacian Legacy (2012). What I offer through Smashwords, are second editions which include updates to better synchronize the first two novels with the third, following my decision to complete the trilogy. I've recently uploaded a trilogy version which combines all three novels as parts 1, 2 and 3 of a single 600-page epic; that also contains some minor text revisions and updates to some of the illustrations. My 4th sci-fi novel was The Blue, Blue Hills of Xuhl, (a pun on the green, green grass of home) published in Australia in 2011; Xuhl was started after The Salacian Legacy, but was finished before. I've had a lifelong love of what I call real sci-fi since hearing the BBC radio series Journey Into Space way back circa 1953. In saying real sci-fi, I exclude superheroes, magic, witches, dragons, vampires, werewolves, zombies and dinosaurs; my 4 offerings to date have featured intelligent, technologically superior aliens rather than being horror stories though I loved movies like Alien, Aliens, Terminator, Terminator 2, Predator and War of the Worlds... and I understand the genetics associated with Jurassic Park and sequels makes a case for those to be regarded as sci-fi movies rather than just part of the horror genre. The biggest problem for sci-fi writers is how to travel anywhere in a reasonable time; we all must fabricate some way to achieve interstellar travel or else we're not leaving our own star system and the old stand-by is the wormhole; anything is possible inside those babies. Though they could theoretically exist, none have ever been identified; but then, a lot of things can exist mathematically that don't occur in Nature, such as negative quantities. But we need something, because the Milky Way is 100,000 light years across and black holes are NOT holes... cross that event horizon and you're not coming out the other end, you're impacting on the singularity at the centre of the gravitational field, end of story !! "Toni" is completely different, a love story set in Melbourne Australia of 1990, where I have lived for 12 years in total. ☺

Book preview

***

ISBN: 978 1 310816 02 4

Title: The Blue, Blue Hills of Xuhl

Author: John A. Kirk

Publisher: Smashwords Inc.

All Rights Reserved

Second Edition (eBook edition)

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Copyright 2015 by John Kirk

Cover art by RLSather Copyright 2016

Dedicated to Jay and Fiona

Other sci-fi books by John A. Kirk

The Khellen Gift

The Zhin Mutations

The Salacian Legacy

Table of Contents

Author’s Notes

Arrival

Merkal

Zalina

Double Trouble

Evasive Maneuvers

Departure

Voyage to Venool

Inspection

Interception

Muliphan

Kidnap

Strategizing

Into the Wormhole

Analysis

Arrival at Xuhl

Dinner Party

Symbiosis

Mission to Jonos

The Planet Smasher

Jonos-3

Council of War

Battle Stations

Return to Muliphan

Return to Merkal

Merkal’s High Council

Peace and Quiet

Preparations

Envoys to Terra

Recruitment

Answers

The Jonosian Battle Group

The Blue, Blue Hills

Back Cover

Author’s Notes

1. Conversations in the text are in English for the benefit of the reader although they were uttered in Merkal, the common language of the peoples of the Five Planets.

2. Measurements of distance and periods of time are given in Terran units, (eg kilometres, months) where possible, also for the benefit of the reader, this can’t be done for values like ‘days’, since the true definition of a day is the time it takes for a planetary body to rotate once on its axis, that value is thus different for every planet so ‘day’ in the text relates to the world our characters are at ... on Xuhl that is 18 Terran hours, (9 Merkal fahrns).

3. The speed of Light in vacuum is about one billion kms per hour, 2 billion per fahrn.

Arrival

Here we go again, I emphasized and followed that with a string of curses.

It was a meteor shower and it looked like there were some big ones. I knew well there was a lot of debris around the perimeter of the Merkal system and it wasn’t the first time I’d had to decouple a tug and go blast some but, after coming all the way from Proxanthus-6 without incident, it was a pain in the rear to have to go to all this trouble so close to home. I checked my readout again; some were thirty metres wide so I had no choice, my deflectors couldn’t handle anything that big.

For those of you unfamiliar with a deep-space ore freighter, it’s a huge container section designed to hold 200,000 to 250,000 tonnes of partially processed metal ore; nothing more than a giant storage bin in reality. It’s a toughened titanium steel double hull with forward-facing, angled deflector panels at strategic points along the sides. The panels can bounce off meteors up to five metres wide and, if they sometimes take a beating, they are replaceable. One thirty metres wide would rip the panels off and maybe smash a hole in the hull causing me to lose ore or worse, knock the container off course.

The tug, which isn’t much more than living and storage space for a 2 or 3 man crew sitting atop a big fusion drive, attaches to the lower front of the container so the engine exhaust is underneath where the container has extra heat shielding. I put on my space-suit and went to the control seat with my helmet in my hand and began punching buttons. I got the tug separated and used maneuvering thrusters to get clear of the container section before I engaged the fusion drive.

I checked my scanners again. At least the meteors were not coming towards me but were crossing my path, so the closing speed was just my speed which gave me more time. I started to pinpoint all those more than ten metres wide then eliminated from my targeting computer those that would safely cross my path before the container’s momentum brought it along. That left eight; five, close together in a group, were about the 10-metre across size and three more were over thirty metres wide. The small ones I could take out with laser cannon fire, but I’d have to use missiles for the bigger ones.

I powered up the laser and armed four missiles, one spare just for emergencies. I’d take out the big ones, swing around and come up and under the five smaller ones and blast them.

One of the big ones was closest; I fed its coordinates into the missile’s microprocessor, engaged its solid fuel rocket and let it go. I targeted the other two big ones next, sent off two more missiles and then I put the tug on manual control and went after the other five ... might as well enjoy myself a little. I closed in on them and angled my deflectors in case the tug got hit by some small stuff on the way in and then I was curving up and under, so the debris would go up out of the path of my container. I lined the first one up manually and fired and, even as I saw it fragment, I was altering course to take out the second. I blasted the other three then checked on the computer and realized one of the missiles had failed to detonate which meant I still had one of the bigger meteors to take care off.

I re-engaged the targeting computer, reacquired the meteor, locked on and closed in on it. It was a big bastard; more than fifty metres wide and about three hundred long, I wouldn’t even dent it with the laser. I armed my 4th missile.

Where to hit, I muttered to myself.

The missiles had high-explosive warheads, not nuclear, so I wasn’t going to destroy the thing, just get it out of the way. I picked my spot, underneath and about a third of the way back from the front of the meteor. It was a perfect strike I thought as the meteor split into three biggish pieces that flew up out of the path of the approaching container, but I went after two of the three pieces with the laser cannon and reduced them to rubble just because I had started to enjoy myself.

My earlier annoyance now replaced by a sense of achievement and the satisfaction of having blasted something, I headed back to the container. I came in under it, slowing to match speed and then brought the tug up to the clamps. I could have used the computer for docking but I liked to keep my skills up to speed so I did it manually ... enough momentum to dock but not so much that the container would deviate from course. I felt good as I reconnected circuits between tug and container and re-engaged the scanners to give me vision above and behind its huge bulk.

I checked the computer log but nothing had been detected during my absence still, being a pro, I did a full scan in every direction just to be on the safe side.

I was now into the Merkal system though still farther out than the planetary orbits; I’d come out of hyperspace yesterday and I’d been decelerating continuously since then.

* * *

Vector four-oh-seven-nine Ajax.

Confirm four-oh-seven-nine.

We’ll take it from here, Brogan.

She’s all yours Control, I said switching to external control which turned the orbital docking over to them.

I ran a hand over my face feeling the stubble and then moved to my bathroom, attached to the bedroom where I’d slept for nine months. I took off my coverall suit and underwear, stepped into the cleanser unit, shut the door and pressed buttons. I closed my eyes as the warm spray filled the cubicle; I reached blindly for the sponge and began to rub it over my body wiping the antibacterial mist over my skin and giving myself a thorough clean. Not that there were any virulent pathogens aboard Ajax; the only bacteria on the ship were those I hosted, willingly or otherwise.

Emerging clean and nice-smelling, I put on some fresh clothes, pulled my boots back on and crossed the room to a small cabinet for my shave gel. I squeezed some on to my palm and smeared it on my face, rubbing it in to the stubble. I rinsed and dried my hands, put the discarded clothes on a rack, put the rack in the cleanser, closed the unit and switched it on again. I was waiting for the gel to do its thing, which took about eight minutes, so I went to the kitchen/dining room and pressed buttons on the drinks unit and got myself a cup of coffee. Eight minutes were up so I returned to the bathroom and shaved off the gel and the dissolved stubble with it.

Back in the kitchen again, I sipped my coffee and selected a pack from the freezer unit; chicken tikka masala with rice and vegetables. I removed the lid, put the pack in the microwave, set the timer and pressed the start button. I finished my cup of coffee and went to make another and had just completed that when the beeps sounded. I salvaged my meal, set the pack on the heatproof table next to my coffee and sat down.

The food was good enough; it hit the spot and I was feeling pretty good as I drained my coffee and put both food pack and coffee cup into the garbage disposal.

I returned to my control room to see how we were doing; it was always worthwhile checking, especially early on. There had been a couple of times when, because of some computer program fault, an incoming tug had not been properly aligned on the flight path and had completely missed the space dock and overshot spiraling out of control with the pilot unable to manually override. But no such problems this time; I was synchronized right and could now relax and prepare for docking and a chance to get off the ship after another successful voyage, my thirteenth.

It would be good to set foot on solid ground again. After I got through decontamination and passport control, I had two free nights allowed at the orbital hotel... this was part of the contract, two nights coming in and two going out with a tug. It would be good to have a nice room and watch TV and catch up on all the news and have some fresh food and a few drinks. After that, I’d shuttle down to the surface and have a break for a couple of months. I was looking forward to it. It would be three hours before the docking procedure: I was still over a million kilometres out. I thought I’d watch a movie so I went over to my work desk and selected a cartridge.

I settled on my recliner, adjusted the angle, pulled the control panel to me, pushed the cartridge home, powered up the wall screen and adjusted the sound. It was an old movie from 200 years ago, set in the Korean War of the 1950’s, about old jet fighter pilots. The lead was a guy called Mitchum and I liked his character and the relationship with the woman; she was married so there was no hope of it working out and there was no sex between them, just two kisses. But they were hot for each other and I liked the way they felt and the civilized way they behaved though it was doomed from the start. I didn’t watch it all, I skipped a chapter here and there but it filled an hour and left me feeling wistful. There were very few humans this far out and I hadn’t even seen a real woman in two years and it had been a little longer than that since I’d kissed one.

If a man wanted sex there were always the Merkal females but they’d never appealed to me: they were covered with fine, short hair and I found their skin odour strange. It wasn’t offensive, just strange and too far removed from the smooth, fragrant skin of a human female. Anyway, best not to think about it; I’d watch some TV, have a few drinks, see some shows, do some swimming and walking, eat some fresh food. After eight or ten weeks I’d be sick of it and I’d sign up to take another tug out to Proxanthus-6 for another ore shipment.

I didn’t mind the solo trips and the company liked one-man crews, if they could handle being alone; the incidence of lone crewmen going nuts was far lower than the incidence of fights and murder among two or three man crews. I thought the Merkals were too emotionally unpredictable. There was some talk years ago that I didn’t like Merkals because I shipped solo and because I didn’t mate with the females; but I didn’t dislike them, I just liked to fly alone. On the ground I was happy eating Merkal food, watching their shows and going to their bars; after a couple of years the perception faded and I was accepted as a weird human who didn’t have sex with either males or females.

I was less than an hour out now so I started to get my stuff together. I’d just two bags; one for my better clothes, for when I was on shore leave, along with my few ‘treasures’ and it pretty well stayed closed when I was on a voyage. The second bag contained the clothes I wore aboard ship plus the things I used for amusement ... portable computer, music, movie, game cartridges; and I always took a box with a dozen or so electronic books and magazines which I traded in for a new batch each time I returned to Merkal.

I took a look over at the main panels, satisfied myself I was still on target for docking and there was no need for me to come off computer control and make a course adjustment. I made another cup of coffee and shut off the kitchen equipment. The bathroom, lounge, kitchen and control were clean: I knew they’d be completely fumigated and cleaned after I got off, but I’m a tidy guy and I always clean up my own space. I walked around and checked I’d left nothing behind and then put my two bags and my box of books and magazines on the trolley and that was it; nothing to do till I docked in about twenty-five minutes. I finished my coffee, tossed the cup into the garbage disposal and went to the toilet for a last pee.

* * *

Docking in twenty Brogan; we’ll decouple your cargo now.

Understood Control, everything OK this end.

I knew they’d now separate my big ore container section and were just letting me know I’d hear it and feel it. The separation was uneventful and two other tugs would now nudge the container into an orbital parking spot for another tug to take to Terra, leaving my tug to dock with the space-station.

I was still slowing, closing on the orbital dock at 50 kph: I could see the port clamps in the viewer, opening to take my connectors. Down to just 15 kph now; there had to be enough momentum to click into the clamps, but not so much the dock’s orbit would be affected by the impact. Contact; I felt the jolt and heard the thud; another trip over.

I stood up and began to push my trolley down the corridor to the cargo bay and the airlock where I donned my space suit (standard safety procedure). I got in the airlock and pressed the buttons to close the inner door.

So long Ajax. I said.

Then the outer door was opening and I began to push my trolley out along the ramp.

Welcome home Brogan, I heard on my radio.

Thanks Telfer, I guessed at the voice good to be back.

Decontamination was first so I entered, unzipped my bags and opened the carton of books and magazines. I took out the pouch containing my passport, cargo manifest and other documents and put it on a seat and then I grabbed the hose nozzle and squeezed the handle, spraying bags, carton and open pouch thoroughly with the gas. I hung the hose up and put bags and carton on the conveyer belt and pressed the start button to send them on their way to Customs. After the exhausts vented off the gas, I took off my space suit and clothes, put them into the decon unit and entered naked, pulling the door shut behind me. The warm spray flooded the cubicle and I stood, eyes closed as I was washed down. I grabbed the goggles and fitted them and then heard the familiar resonant hum of the UV beam. Two minutes and I could open the door and dress. I put my clothes on, hung up my space suit, grabbed the pouch with my papers, opened the inner door and entered Reception.

How was your trip Brogan? It was Telfer, one of the humans in Control for the benefit of the human tug pilots.

Good to get the thirteenth over, I said, taking the storage tag for my spacesuit. Not that the number held any dire meaning for me, it was just small talk.

I left passport control and entered Customs for the customary review; my bags having been inspected while I was in Decon.

We found these in your bags; what are they?

I’d been expecting it. There were three metallic objects I’d bought from a miner on Proxanthus-6; two rods and a smaller square thing with holes in it. When you hit them together they had an incredible ringing tone. They were so heavy, in spite of their small size, I knew I’d never conceal them from the scanners.

Parts of a musical instrument; I got them for a buddy on Merkal, I’d rehearsed the story a dozen times on my way in.

What are they made of? asked the customs officer.

It’s an alloy, some titanium, some osmium (I had to account for the weight), no radioactivity, I added knowing what the main cause for concern would be.

In truth I had no idea what the objects were but, being in the mining business, I knew enough about metals to know these were unlike any mineral I’d come across before. They were a strange, lustrous, dark, silver-blue with an incredible ringing tone ... clear and beautiful on the ear. I’d planned to find a buyer on Merkal, maybe in the jewelery trade, to supplement my normal salary.

It was my lucky day. The officer hit the rods together (they were about fifteen centimetres long) to hear them ring again and then lost interest. And then I was clear and out into the main hall.

Merkal

I found a hotel check-in booth, checked my bags and registered for a 2-day stay at IGM’s expense; my cargo manifest was proof of my credit status; Proxanthus-6 was on the outer perimeter and the hotel clerk knew both I’d have been well paid for the trip and that IGM picked up the tab for two days for incoming tug pilots.

Will you be staying longer than the two days, Sir?

Not if I can get a shuttle down to Merkal; any seats available?

He consulted the schedule and found me a spot on the mid-day flight the day after tomorrow which was OK by me.

With my bags checked in ... the check-in guy would have them transferred to my room ... I took my hotel key/credit card, picked up my portfolio containing my passport and other papers and wandered across to the shopping and cafe area: coffee and a newspaper were first on my list. Any incidental expenses such as these were simply put on my hotel card and IGM covered them... I didn’t try to take advantage like some of the pilots and just stuck to simple things like coffee, newspapers and breakfasts in the hotel restaurant.

Because I didn’t milk the opportunities, kept my nose clean on Merkal and was both reliable and willing to go to the outer perimeter sites like Proxanthus-6, I was well paid and Inter-Galactic Mining were pretty happy with me.

I glanced around as I entered the cafe; it was mostly Merkals as you’d expect in orbit over that planet ... I saw only a couple of other humans. I got my coffee and found a window table in a quiet corner; from here I could watch the crowd coming and going in the main hall and it was always fascinating for me, especially the first two days after a nine-month absence; that was why I took my two days in orbit, to get used to it before I went down to the planet and Harmak, the big metropolis which was the arrival port for the orbital shuttle service. I drained my coffee and headed to the hotel and my room. It was well-appointed and nice; not top of the line like the politicians or entertainment stars, but IGM did OK for us. True they put the tug pilots at one corner of the hotel because some of them went nuts in the bar on their two free days, but the rooms were pretty well sound proofed so it didn’t bother me at all.

I opened up my two bags and unloaded them on to one of the two beds and started to reorganize just to make sure everything I’d need down on Merkal was in one and the other had all the kit I only used on my trips out: having done that, I locked the second bag and called the room service porter to take it for delivery to storage ... I’d collect it before my next trip out.

I took my bag tag from the porter and gave him a decent tip and my carton of books