TROLLI Rediscovered

By A. L. Bentley

Trolli is a world rediscovered.
Originally a genetic engineering laboratory for developing new races of being to "seed" potential colonization planets it was abandoned and left to the wilds of space.
Instead of crumbling to ruins Trolli instead thrived and the experimental races developed entire communities and became a world unto itself.
When spacefarers chanced upon the planet sized laboratory, thinking it was an asteroid for the taking, they discovered a highly interactive civilization with a developed political and theological foundation and ..... Magic.
The captain and his crew stumble into the midst of romance and war on their journey to ascertain the value of the planetoid.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. L. Bentley
• Release date: Jul 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310080470

A. L. Bentley

A L Bentley is a truck driver and a teacher. Driving a commercial vehicle since 1976 and teaching in public and private schools he has taught many math courses, some intro to computing classes and of course truck driving.Mr. Bentley has lived in DC, Manhattan, Chicago, Colorado Springs, and San Diego but loves the mountains and skiing.Also a budding artist, A L paints landscapes.

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TROLLI

REDISCOVERED

BY A. L. BENTLEY

COPYRIGHT 2016

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

Cover designand formatting by Caligraphics

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PROLOG

DISCOVERY

ENTRY

JOURNEYS

CIVILIZATION

IT BEGINS

IT CONTINUES

A TURNING

COUNCIL

WAR

THE SURFACE

TURBULENCE

FRESH STARTS

HEATING UP

MEETING THE FOLK

CHASE

GATHER

RACING

PLANS

RUNNING

PRECIPICE

GODS IN THE SKY

WRAP-UP

PROLOG

Space a vast place, so vast, in fact that we, as tiny specs of life, cannot even comprehend it all. There are stars, big, small, tiny, yellow, red, super, and not so super. There are entire civilizations, humanoid, insect or, lizard-like, flying, swimming, and you name it; they exist. But mostly there is room, lots and lots of empty, cold quiet room.

There is room enough to explore, discover, room enough to hide great mysteries and the answers to those mysteries and room enough to get utterly lost in …

So, it is that the majority, an almost unanimous majority, of all the known civilizations and races occupy a very small portion of this vastness. We crowd on top of each other, competing for the same space, the same things, and competing fiercely for the dwindling resources that are found in our tiny portion of infinity.

There are but a few ways to exist in a universe such as ours. You can have no aspirations and become a piece for others to control, you can overpower your competition, muscling out those in your way and blocking attempts of others to do the same to you or you can become an explorer and venture out into the untapped regions, hewing out a new, desirable, space to occupy in the thus far unclaimed.

While becoming a piece to be controlled has little stress and can be endurable, this path has very little chance of offering true satisfaction or any sense of accomplishment. The overpowering method involves very tricky and ever increasing politics, at highly risky and less than a wholesome sense of worth. (It’s all mine and damn those that get in the way) and stress and dangers which can and quit often do, blind side you.

The frontiersman’s approach allows you to enjoy a less stressful more self-paced way of existence. Though the success you obtain may well be of a smaller nature and surely be less publicized the dangers are more predictable and can be planned for, the competition is almost non-existent and is almost entirely self-appreciated. There is most assuredly more elbow room and far fewer deadlines. This way of life appeals to a more benevolent, tolerant, and self-assured individual that requires only his or her own validation.

Captain Oofloof is a frontiersman. He seeks a way of life that providers for his crew and himself in a comfortable, yet uncompetitive manner. Profit, yes, adventure, certainly, and a deep meaning derived from life that comes from navigating life without taking or pushing others. Live and let live, complete with the universe not each other (but not too fiercely).

He and his crew roam the fringes of the known civilized galaxy procuring mining rights to as yet unclaimed asteroids and planetoids, selling exploration maps, academic rights to the intellectuals for undiscovered peoples and truths they stumble onto.

Galactic rules forbid and restrict intrusion (except by the ruling authorities) most of the really valuable stuff and there is a maze of politically correct regulations as to what is declared intelligent, relevant, and righteous. Some civilizations are relegated to less than civilized while others are awarded full membership into the galactic empire.

Governments need unclaimed and uncharted territories to expand their own brand of diplomacy and will pay for first knowledge of them. Manufacturing corporations need raw materials to produce for the ever expanding population and will pay. Intellectuals will pay for anything they don’t understand. These comprise Captain (purely ceremonial) Oofloof’s clients.

The good captain and his crew roam the outskirts of our frontier in their rugged class three decommissioned cruise liner affectionately known as Mother.

CHAPTER ONE - DISCOVERY

Look, there it is again, Keech, the pale skinned hyper-intensive Cruthian, was excited and his pointed ears literally twitched as he pointed to a blip on the deep space scanner in front of him.

The Captain’s eyes watered, his hair wasn't combed or greased like that of his science officer. He had just been rousted from his bunk to look at this blip which at the moment didn’t seem like a very good reason to be awakened. His watering eyes wandered from the small scientist’s pointed ears and groomed, greasy hair to the pale blue screen sporting the blip that had Keech in such frenzy.

Well, do you see it? What do you think? Keech continued.

I see it, what is it? The Captain yawned at him, scratching his belly for good measure, and trying to clear the bleary fog out of his eyes. It had been days since anything had happened aboard the Rustic and the captain had been busily redressing his life in a melancholy way.

That, the science officer said, tapping the SWEEP screen again and again near the little green dot, is a planetoid approximately the same size as old Earth’s moon!

So? again the importance of such a revelation escaped the bleary eyed captain and his yawns continued to punctuate his responses.

Keech smiled his patented condescending smile, letting the captain know he was missing an obvious and simple fact which apparently should have been known to all. The captain looked around for support from the rest of his crew but found they were alone in the control room.

So? the captain repeated, still not grasping this annoying dot’s importance and the smug smile of his first mate was beginning to annoy him.

So, we could be rich! Keech was shaking his hands and pointing to the screen, Rich!

Rich was a word that triggered something primal inside the captain and his eyes snapped open, blood rushing to his head. He comprehended that word, Rich? now leaning over the screen the little green blip seemed somehow more friendly, alluring. A smile began to wake up around the corners of his mouth and even Keech was suddenly more important and less annoying. The morning might have been worth getting up for after all.

The captain reached to sound the alarm to wake everyone else for a ship wide meeting but they had already started to trickle in, returning from an early lunch.

What’s got the little geek so excited?! George asked as the crew gathered around Keech’s sweep. Keech was pointing out the blip and explaining, or trying to explain, but most of the crew could decipher image on the screen and had already arrived at the obvious conclusion of the blip being a free drifting planetoid, though were not as positive as Keech about its value.

A planetoid?

Is it on the charts?

Wonder if there have been any claims? this from the ship’s legal counsel, Lindsey.

For the next two days as the cruise/salvage ship lumbered toward the blip’s coordinates, the crew had dubbed the spec Nugget, since there was no record to be found on any of the charts.

As they got closer, more details could be gleaned from the equipment on board. The more that was discovered, the more the excitement grew on board. The discoveries also lead to curiosity.

It was a small, icy, planetoid still only discernable by scanner. It was larger than Keen had first guessed, measuring about fifty thousand miles across. Surely a planet of that size had to have something of value on it, several somethings for that matter. They discovered Nugget was hollow with less than one third of its mass solid. Gems and geodes often occupied empty space and were hollow in nature due to the way they formed but this one was spinning which was extremely rare and un-explainable because of the hollow nature. The spin was creating a gravitational field inside the orb approximately nine tenths that of old Earth’s according to their resident space genius.

The best news to the crew was the complete absence of radio waves or clusters of heat signatures. This usually indicated a lack of residence. If nobody lived there, their claim would be truly sustainable.

So is she full of ice or something? Lindsey asked. She was even less of an authority on space stuff than was the captain being versed in the legal aspects of claims and governmental authorities. Captain Oofloof smiled to himself as Lindsey got a dose of Keech’s condescension and ‘understanding’, he always felt better when there was someone dumber than he.

It’s hollow, or it would sound different, no ice, no water, just some sort of gas.

Can you tell what it’s made of?

The gas or the rock?

Either. George replied dryly. Their first officer chimed in, he had been drummed out of the royal navy for some unknown and probably dubious reason but was a very competent officer. Can we sell it?

Can't tell yet, we're not close enough.

Keech put his headset back on, listening to some unknown space sounds that told him things that no one else could fathom, and was lost to the rest of the crew, again.

Well, Captain Oofloof turned to Lindsey, Do we have a claim?

Yes, she was direct. There is no record of a free floating planetoid, of any description, anywhere, so I'd say we can safely claim it as ours.

The Captain turned to his first officer, Can we tow it?

Maybe..., George had a familiar hedging tone in his voice which usually meant no, and was gazing at Keech's screen, calculating some unknown courses of actions. The entire crew was cautious when it came to answering questions directly but when they did it was almost a certainty that they had weighed all the variables and got it right.

You don't want to?

George turned and raised his eyebrows. "Well one might make more money renting it as an oddity to be studied in its natural habitat, sightseeing tours or even a resort of some kind, since its hollow. We'll have to see what it’s made of and just how hollow it is. George was always thinking out of the box and a pursed lip smile from the Captain showed him it was appreciated.

If this is its natural habitat. Penlee interjected. She was the closest thing to a doctor the ship employed, more of a life scientist than an actual MD. Penlee had joined the crew about six months earlier having fallen for Keech in a big way back on Carinloina, where Captain Oofloof and crew had been in the process of selling a strangely volcanic rock to the University of the Grine. Though she was as obvious as a cat in heat, Keech, to this date, had shown no signs of noticing her, except that of enjoying another scientific mind to help him with his work.

You mean just leave it out here?

Who's going to take it? Besides the traffic lanes are well over a week away, with hyperspace, and we can always cut it up and sell it in chunks

True; Lindsey? The Captain passed the conversation back to his legal expert.

There will have to be permits either way, claim forms and the like... to operate a resort several more, as well as advertising, and a new liner class ship, she emphasized the last with a sweeping, all-encompassing, look around followed by a stony glare from under her thin eyebrows. The little cruiser Oofloof currently owned scarcely accommodated their crew let alone vacationers. With a cut up we could get away with add on mods and wouldn't need new licenses... she wandered off toward her cabin still muttering. I'll see what I can find out... the cost... licenses... that'd be Julian...

Using little more than their drifting momentum they crept closer to the small planet only making small adjustments with the trim jets. With each hour more of their sensors came into range. Keech watched hungrily at all of his monitors and sang out as more of the instruments began to read the planet.

Sonar hitting, radiation scan complete and locked for change, chem’ scan coming in now... a lot of nickel, iron, titanium, some silver, gold, a spattering of gem formations, Keech rattled off the potential fortunes hurriedly then almost stopped. Captain I'm reading a very large concentration of carbon dioxide, and oxygen at both poles and there, over that top most mass of ice.

Carbon dioxide?... Then there would have to be..

Life, or at least there once was...

How?... Way out here? Captain Oofloof wasn't much on science.

Penlee saved him from Keech's critical eye with at least a plausible cause, The planet must have been near a star at one time. Life developed or colonized here. Then, due to a natural catastrophe or war or something it was pushed off course, out here.

A nagging little panic gripped the Captain, Lindsey, what does this do to our claim?

Nothing, our claims already been accepted, no one reported losing a planet, AND... a twinkle from her eyes hinted at the next bit of news, the institute for space oddities out of Nebula has already requested a science visa.

Well all right. George granted them a rare smile.

Penlee and Johnny both piped in some cheerful noise as well.

After the cheers died down a bit she continued. Of course if we discover a thriving culture our claim starts to get shot up.

Not likely out this far...

How about the money?

Lindsey also handled the books so she continued her report. Our personal funds were exhausted after the claims work but several of our financial partners have already extended generous advances on futures. We're OK, then she cracked a devious grin, actually we're rolling in it.

YEEE-HAUGH! The company pilot, Johnny, who hadn't understood much more of the conversation than the Captain, did understand her final phrase. We're gonna be rich!

His outburst was met by a disdainful grimace from Keech, exasperation from George, and amused smiles from Penlee and the Captain.

O.K, O.K, settle down folks. Now it was time for the Captain to do his job. We've still got lots to do. Lindsey find us the cheapest loan you can, promise nothing, see if you can't get a 'signature only' note. Penlee, do a life scan, be thorough we don't want to lose this one to any naturalist or life freedom nuts. Keech get me a full report; percentages of mineral deposits, gem capacities, relative age, hypothetical source of origin, you know the drill. Oh, and Lindsey go ahead and file for any permits we may need. Johnny get on the horn and see if you can't politely inform those eggheads we have received their request and are looking into the matter. Assure them they will get first crack at it. When your done with them see if you can't get us into some kind of orbit around our little gold mine.

You heard the man, let’s move! George took over from there making all the right nautical adjustments and wording the messages to be sent. This was a crack crew when the situation required it, the possibility of money always improved their performance.

Captain Oofloof sat back and watched his crew work. He had discovered George just after he'd come into his inheritance and George had found the rest of the crew.

George loved command and was good at it, well ordered in his thinking and a 'can do' man from way back. He had seen duty in the Nebulan Royal fleet as an officer of some sort but when his fiancée had opted for his commanding officer, George's performance understandably dropped to less than optimum. He was washed out, 'for the good of the service'. Captain Oofloof, who was never a real captain of any kind, had come into a small fortune from some unknown relative about the same time and over several drinks they had dreamed up this space prospecting venture.

Lindsey was a research lawyer for Crustech, a mining firm, and watched the firm snatch fortune after fortune from independents. When they approached her for some advice on setting up their venture she packed up her office and threw in with them. No one argued her, the self-invited status.

Keech was and will always be a total egghead. He was working at the Huervain University as a research chemist when George approached him, but longed for a chance at field experience, 'where the real discoveries are made' in his words. He is very good at finding out what's what and how that what, works. He was so good, in fact, he was having difficulty getting permission to leave the safety of the university to do any of the kind of research he wanted to. So he quit. George knew him from some of the military work the university had done and suggested he come along for the ride.

Penlee came on board later, after Rustics' crew had run a few claims. She was

working for Depal ChemLab Carinloina in conjunction with the University of the Grine

when Rustic sold them rights to a giant space sponge full of a mysterious volcanic rock they'd found. She, for some reason unknown to the rest of the galaxy, fell madly in love with Keech and signed on to follow him, hoping eventually get him to notice her. Penlee is not nearly as dedicated to science as she pretends but she knows life sciences well enough to pass for a 'space doc'.

Johnny is a, seat of the pants type, pilot. He washed out of the academy for his daring stunts and flamboyant ways. George knew him from the service as well and found him crop dusting to pay his bar tabs. It didn't take a lot of talking to get him on the roster.

Lindsey and George were still busy at the com center when Johnny parked the Rustic in a loose orbit circling the planet from pole to pole (at Keech's request). Keech and Penlee were busy with their instruments muttering between themselves and making notes. Captain Oofloof had retired to his cubicle to shower and dress, he now returned, still brushing his teeth, and addressed his crew.

O.K, people talk to me. He flopped down in his command chair.

Lindsey spoke first, We filed for mining, resort, a class P transport, and academic rights permits. Of course none will be issued for at least a week but we're in the system.

The local fleets, Aviots, have been notified as to our claim. George put in.

I got bids on three loans from low interest long term outfits I suggest the Redding Mining Exchange long term payoff and only a five percent penalty for early payoff. They want the first payment in advance, sixty thousand, which we don't have but can get from the eggheads for first rights guaranties. I also looked into some terraforming equipment and a small luxury liner for fun; we can't get near either without some early returns on some mining. She added, High dollar low expense mining.

They all looked at Keech. What about it Keech can we expect some quick money?

Yessir! He stood and straightened his tunic, acting as though this were a report to a university staff handing out grants. Easily, this planetoid is somewhere in the neighborhood of seventy percent nickel. I put the overall mass at or about eleven point seven million metric tons or about eighty billion tons of nickel alone. With it being hollow mining expenses should be marginal. The market rate for nickel is point two credits per pound.

Keech's rep is well known in the mining community I can get the backing I need on his report as soon as it’s filed.

That's not all, Keech cut her off. He checked his notes. Nickel seventy percent; silicon seventeen percent, well over a billion tons; iron seven point five percent, three quarters of a billion tons; a full half of a percent of the remainder is water or ice, that's sixty five million tons; there's two or three hundred thousand tons or tungsten, copper, and silver; and in the tens of thousands of tons of gold, and platinum. There's over a hundred thousand metric tons of oxygen, and here's a real kicker three or four billion tons of carbon and carbon by-products; no one seemed to understand the last item so he added, that's oil, gems, and coal. With all this oxygen, water, and carbon there must've been a thriving community here at one time...

He was cut short in the middle of his smorgasbord of wealth report by his would be sweetheart, Or still is.

The rest of the crew interrupted their rampant flights of fantasy through imagined riches, to afford Penlee with a range of looks from the incredulous 'you fool' to looks that could kill in the right circumstances.

What do you mean, Pen? Keech asked sitting back down most incredulously, and definitely indignantly.

Penlee rose in keeping with the formal mood. I did the preliminary life signs scan on our friend out there last night. The outside is a crust of frozen wasteland as we all can see nothing could live on it, but inside... she punched up her notes from her console. the average temperature is thirty two degrees Celsius, water runs freely and the atmosphere is in gaseous form. She looked at all of them with one encompassing glare. ...and the oxygen is in free form not CO2 or CO or any other combination; free form. Obviously this should mean something but only Keech seemed to catch it. You don't get oxygen in free form unless there is some sort of life process to release it, like photosynthesis, without something living down there all the oxygen should combine with other elements.

The entire crew's mouths joined Keech's at half-mast. She's right. Keech said.

Penlee continued. "There are several heat sources, probably volcanic, concentrated around the equator of the interior but I've found no concentration of electro or atomic sources. Another good sign is there still are no ordered radio signals. Nugget may just have a hot house for a lot of plants.

How can we tell?

I can't, not from up here. We'll have to go down there, inside, and check it out. She sat back down with everyone's eyes still on her.

Lindsey ventured softly, If there is intelligent life down there our claim is null, that goes for intelligent plants as well. However we should still have liaison rights, finder's fees, etc. she had drawn most everyone's attention, Keech and Penlee were back at their consoles. We'll retain exclusive brokerage rights, there's still a pretty penny to be made.

That seemed to help a little but, their fabulous fantasies had been deflated. Johnny asked for everyone, How much is a pretty penny?

Ten to fifteen percent

Keech added without looking up, And I'd venture to say they're not going to let us slice and dice their world.

Whoa, hold on, just a minute George now stood up. We still don't know what kind of life is down there, it may be nothing.

I guess we'd better go find out then, huh? The Captain raised his eyebrows and puckered his lips.

The discussion that followed was less formal, more of a mission defining.

Keech, Penlee, we'll need a place to set down and an estimate as to how long we'll be there. George was better at this sort of thing and was directing the conversation. Johnny, get the number two launch ready, environment suits for five, food and medical supplies for two weeks, and better load up two life domes. Any other equipment to be loaded Keech will tell you about. Captain I suggest Lindsey stay aboard the Rustic and complete our filings, the rest of us can go down and see what's what. Are we going to have to get inside? He loosely directed the question at Keech and Penlee. And if so, where and how?

Most probably. Penlee answered.

The northern polar region looks best for drilling, relatively flat and a fairly thin crust.

Johnny that means the LAZOR drill and a pressure dome also better lay in some hand LAZORS for small work.

I'm not sure we should use a thruster on this surface, we might make a lake out of the ice and, when it freezes, we may not be able to effect a lift off.

Not a problem. Johnny put in. I can glide one of those launches in easy, 'specially with no atmosphere, set you down soft as beach ball.

No touch downs as of yet, have Johnny take the number one launch out for a fly by first. Check out the landing sites near where we come up with a drilling site and do some sonar checks, cracks and stress points. Keech made the suggestions.

I hadn't even thought of that Dear. Penlee looked at him and giggled. They were like school children sometimes and she had obviously thought of that but wanted to stroke Keech’s ego, not that he noticed.

O.K, find us a drill site and let Johnny know when you're ready for a fly over.

Johnny left the bridge for the launch bays with George, Penlee spoke to the Captain. I think discovering what kind of life form should be a priority, but we must consider safety as well. I'd like complete monitoring on all life suits, infectious gases, psychological scans, the works. Might as well be safe.

Speaking of safe, Lindsey put in, Whether this 'life form' is plant, animal, or mineral it could be hostile. Better treat it like a military landing. A shocked Captain Oofloof gaped at her. ...at first anyway. The suggestion wasn’t as much as of a shock as the source.

And maybe a backup supply depot for good measures. Keech put in without looking up. In case we have difficulty lifting off. We're a long way from home. No point in treating this like a camping trip.

Good grief. Is paranoia infectious?

There, Keech said pointing to his monitor, returning to the original conversation, that flat spot, eighteen miles south of polar north and just off to the left there. The crust is only a hundred feet, or so, thick. He flipped on the ship to ship. Johnny, can you see this? He was tapping his screen. Right below those mountains, that flat spot?

Got it Keech ol’ buddy. I'll be on my way in a few.

I'll be right down. Keech turned and looked at the Captain. I want to run some readings during the fly by Captain. He didn't wait for permission.

The Captain moved over and sat at the radio with Penlee beside him monitoring

the SCAN screens. Get those cameras on ASAP and start a vid recording I want to see this thing.

Aye Yi Capt'n. The view screen came on and flickering once to show those in the mother ship the bay doors lumbering open in front of 'launch one'.

Keech, dear, turn on the heat and chem. sensors as soon as you’re free of the ship.

Yes dear, he whimpered a little nasally but good naturedly.

Johnny smoothly slid the glider from its birth and out the bay doors, scarcely moving until he was free of the mother ship. Once in open space he fired up the maneuvering retros and aimed the launch at the frozen world.

The mother ship was a Lunndneard Special Research and Salvage model 14k3000 and although she was named Rustic on the manifest, the crew generally referred to her as Mom or Mother. Mom came equipped with two glider launches, one of which Johnny