The Septonian Castaway

By Alboricah Rathup

The Marynov brothers have to learn how to get along when their mother is abducted by an unknown enemy of the family. In exchange for her safety, they are tasked with hunting down an ancient Septonian scepter with its own tale of intrigue. Due to the familys distrust of all outsiders, Malachi is forbidden from asking his friends for help. But it turns out his friends are already in Septon on the tail of Herder Shoufille who coincidentally disappeared on the eve the scepter was stolen. In their quest through the hot, Septonian desert they encounter dangerous mining crime lords in a bid to rescue Malachis mother, track down Herder Shoufille, and recover the scepter.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524566081

Alboricah Rathup

Alboricah Rathup (short for Rathupetsane) was born in South Africa in 1992. She is the oldest of three children. After reading her first novel in Grade 9, she decided to add writing to her already extensive list of hobbies. She studied mechanical engineering at Wits University and graduated in 2016. With the intention of getting her younger siblings interested in reading, she decided to rewrite and publish the stories she wrote in high school—of which her favorite was the Cencreas Club series. She works as an intern engineer and lives with her mother and siblings.

Book preview

Prologue

ZOPHOMORE GALAXY

PLANET CENCREAS

The sky was clear today – a rare occurrence for a place usually lumpy with cloud cover. You’d think after living on this planet for two months that I’d be used to the grumpy climate by now. I wasn’t, and I wasn’t planning to be for probably the next twenty years at least. It would surely be a good day, I thought contently. I closed my eyes and smiled stupidly, wishing the morning silence would last forever. Such peaceful-

‘Tebogo, you’re going to miss the school bus!’

Mom – of course. Rolling my eyes at the unwanted interruption, I snatched up my school bag and hurried down the stairs, thinking unkindly that if a person were to build such a monstrous house, they ought to have the decency to install elevators for the poor souls who would be residing in it. And then I quickly reminded myself that we’d been lucky to inherit such a grand home even if the reason behind it was still a mystery. Maybe there was some unknown family connection – like mom speculated. Or maybe, like my little brother Samuel thought, the mysterious Esteban Carnossa had been a crazy old geezer.

‘I’m beginning to think you like walking to school’ my mother admonished as she passed me a lunch sack on my way towards the back door. Her face was glowing, and had been since we’d moved here. We had a house we owned – not by the bank or some crabby landlord. More than that, it truly felt like home. Especially since we’d redecorated it from the clinical white of before into warm autumn and rainbow colours. I wouldn’t change anything about it. Except maybe the thousand and one stairs.

‘Is your brother coming down?’ She called after me.

‘Probably not!’ I shouted back as I ran to where the airobus was already lowering. Samuel got occasional ‘afflictions’. Occasional because they mostly occurred on weekday mornings. The boy had turned avoiding school into an art form.

‘I almost climbed off thinking you weren’t gonna make it’ my best friend Mona complained as I dropped ungraciously into the seat beside her.

I chuckled at her mutinous expression. ‘I provide the only exercise you get, Mo’

‘I can do without it’ then she smiled slyly, so I knew I was in trouble. ‘But I forgive you. Because you’re coming with me to the city library this afternoon’

‘You can keep your forgiveness’ I sighed.

‘You haven’t checked your school email yet, have you?’

I looked at her expectantly.

‘Let me fill you in’ she volunteered gleefully, clearly enjoying whatever dire news she was about to deliver.

‘We have a history assignment due next week.’

I groaned audibly. The sun was out today. It was supposed to turn into a good day.

‘Don’t look so depressed’ she scolded ‘the assignment is carried out in pairs so we can partner up. And even more importantly, the topic is actually interesting.’

‘You don’t say’ I mumbled apathetically, inwardly relieved I wouldn’t have to tackle the subject of history by myself.

‘It’s a research project on ancient artefacts’ Mona barrelled on ‘most of the class is going to the museum today and tomorrow afternoon.’

Which I thought made sense. Even I knew that despite the planet’s relative newness (compared to the others in Zophomore), it hosted some of the best museums in the galaxy.

‘So shouldn’t we join them?’ I reasoned ‘why do we have to go to the library?’

‘Because the artefact I want us to do research on is not in any museum in the galaxy. Have you heard of the Atrollium’s Sceptre?’ she whispered the last part conspiratorially, as if anyone else occupying this bus would care enough to steal her idea.

‘The name Atrollium sounds familiar’ I said.

‘Atrollium was the royal name of the second son of planet Septon’s most famous and last king, King Thalo of the Ehlose line’

‘Planet Septon had a monarch? And how’s a royal name different from a normal name?’ I hated history that much.

Mona shook her head at my ignorance. ‘Yes. There hasn’t been a royal family in Septon for close to three centuries now. An epidemic broke out that nearly wiped all of Septon’s military power and royal guard. Stripped of its defence, the royal family would’ve been easy targets to overthrow – not that the royal family was in strong conflict with anyone, however their wealth was renowned so enemies could’ve manifested from that? Anyway, the royal family was obviously forced to flee. A lot of historians speculate that the epidemic was a product of biological warfare as it erupted when King Thalo was about to pass on his crown and the epidemic seemed to have targeted the nation’s defence. Others dispute that because no single specific party came to power as a result. Could be that the epidemic was purely accidental, after all the military and royal guard would’ve been exposed to common conditions – you know, something in the combustion powder or that sort of thing. Regardless of the cause, the absence of the royal family and military power resulted in the Septon Mineral Rush, where people from all over wanted in on the natural riches since there was no defined ownership. Subsequently, The Magistrate appointed a government until Septon finally turned into the democracy that it is today. I know a great history book if you want to read more about it’ she offered, and I nodded because I was surprisingly very interested. ‘A royal name is one given to a member of the royal family by the people after performing an act of bravery or in this case, being involved in a lot of humanitarian work. Atrollium’s birth name was Rapedi’ she explained.

‘Yes but what about this sceptre?’ I wanted to know.

‘The sceptre was supposed to go on display at the Lokeng planetarial museum in Septon but it disappeared some decades ago. It was the only heirloom left from the last of the Ehlose line.’

‘Only one? What happened to the rest of their treasury?’

‘That’s the other part of the mystery. Some speculate that it is still buried somewhere in septonian desert. Others think the family fled with their riches. Most believe the royal household was also flooded during the Rush and thus a majority of the treasury was stolen that way.’

When the clock struck 3 o’clock that afternoon, Mona and I were making our way towards the entrance of the town library. It was almost deserted inside. Obviously – because everyone else is sensible enough to make use of this awesome, convenient shortcut called the galaxanet. I sighed in resignation and followed behind Mona’s determined stride. We went past the smiling elderly librarian into the geography section. Mona read the guide-boards aloud as we went past them.

‘Planet Anchor…Futah…Lok’Shir…Orabirn…Rotehn–’ a wide smile broadened her lips as we paused at the next section ‘planet Septon’. We entered the empty aisle and sat our bags down by one of the tables.

‘I’ll check the history section, you try the relics’ one’

She pointed me towards the end of the aisle – there had to be over a thousand books on one side alone – and moved in the opposite direction. The books didn’t look like they had been touched in a long time. Suddenly curious about the last time a book had been taken out, I picked one out randomly and paged to the back. Clay artefacts of Sekeng, fallen city of Septon – last taken out just over four years ago. I replaced it and looked at the rest, studying the titles intently. I would never admit it to Mona but I was starting to enjoy myself. I had forgotten the sweet musky smell of old ink on even older paper. I was soon absorbed in the subject, but so too did my frustration grow. All the text I’d looked through so far was focused on the origins of the sceptre but nothing about its disappearance. The information was usable, however I expected Mona would probably come up with something more in-depth from looking at the historical section.

I picked up the next book. Royal heirlooms of Septon. Looked promising. The contents were listed alphabetically so the Atrollium’s Sceptre was one of the first items. I scanned the summary minutely. King Thalo Ehlose, the last King of Septon had the sceptre made for his second son, Prince Rapedi Ehlose blah blah blah. Then a brief blah blah blah about the supposed rare metals and precious gemstones from which it was made. I was about to give up when I came to the last paragraph. ‘Mona!’ I hissed excitedly, reading the words before me with rounding eyes. I called out again, much louder this time.

‘Mona!’

‘Would you stop your screeching? This is a library’ she hissed back as she made her way towards me. She was smiling, clutching a bunch of papers in her hands. I didn’t miss the glint of excitement in her eyes. I pushed the book before her the moment her rump touched the chair. She read the text with haste, nodding her head as if in agreement with the information. She proceeded to show me the sheets she’d brought with her.

‘That book corroborates what I found in these articles’ she pushed the first one toward me ‘I got these from the librarian’ she informed me eagerly, pointing at the relevant paragraph.

‘The infamous Atrollium’s Sceptre, whose unveiling was to occur last night at the Lokeng planetarial museum in Septon, is believed to have been stolen just hours prior to the historic event. The sceptre is said to be made from thalazium, a metal indigenous only to Septon, and is inlaid with over one hundred precious stones the booked claimed a thalazium alloy’ Mona murmured, noting down the different references. ‘Well we do know thalazium is always the main, if not the sole comprising metal’ she thought aloud.

‘The book has a sketch of the sceptre at the back’ I remembered, quickly paging there. Mona studied the picture avidly. ‘It’s longer than I expected’ she finally said.

‘It’s exquisite’ I sighed. The stem resembled a thick branch with its extending limbs cut off. The silvery-bronze colour of the metal was dotted with gemstones where the limbs would be. The head was shaped like a cup formed by a multitude of vines – probably in keeping with the plant theme – and the inside of the cup was practically pulsing with a multitude of tiny stones, central of which was what looked like a fist-sized onyx pearl – also indigenous to only Septon.

‘That it is’ Mona agreed. But she was right about the length thing. The sceptre had to be almost one and a half meters long.

‘Maybe Atrollium was a tall guy’ I mumbled offhandedly.

‘We should scan this image’ Mona said decidedly, then turned back to the article. ‘Galaxial Intelligence Bureau (or GIB) and Septon’s own law enforcement will be collaborating to bring the culprits to light. In the meantime, we can only hope that the sceptre’s condition won’t bear scars of abuse from these thieves of heritage. The-’

‘But were there any suspects?’ I wanted to know, not letting her finish. The article would continue for two more pages still. I would read the entire thing myself later but preferred to know the end result now.

‘Well?’ I insisted impatiently, causing the platinum chain around my neck to jingle restlessly beneath my shirt. She must know, I thought. Knowing Mona, she’d probably read the whole thing twice over before showing it to me anyway.

‘Yes and no’ she said with a grin.

‘Stop being elusive!’

She rolled her eyes but I could tell she was delighted by my curiousity. ‘They never actually found the people responsible, so it’s still widely referred to as the perfect theft. No evidence or witnesses ever came to light – that we know of. However, it’s widely believed that the person or one of the people responsible had to be septonian’

‘How’s that?’

‘Because the rest of Zophomore only knew of the sceptre’s existence on the day of the unveiling. Before that, it was only referred to as the ‘Mystery item’, which was not uncommon for the museum. In fact it would’ve been the 28th piece to be unveiled since the museum’s inauguration. But only a select few septonian organisations would’ve known the significance of this one’

‘But the publicity surrounding the event would’ve clued people in about the importance of the new item’ I reasoned.

‘Perhaps’ Mona conceded. ‘But the security too would’ve been much tighter.’

I shrugged at her explanation. ‘In any case, whoever stole it sure made history,’ I mumbled as I continued to page over the various articles.

‘They did. And earned a punishment fitting of such a crime.’

‘Death?’ I automatically guessed.

‘No. Banishment. If the person is ever found out, he or she and his entire family will be cast off from Septon. For a minimum of three generations they cannot legally step onto the planet.’

‘That’s rough’ I murmured, barely paying attention to Mona as she rattled on about the slight variations in the articles, which ones we’d be referencing and for which sections in our paper. More than me, I knew she was musing aloud to herself. I was also wondering, internally but just as curiously frazzled all the same. Three generations was a minimum of a hundred and fifty years. Technically speaking, there was at least one native family in Septon still residing there illegally. Bigger curiosities also plagued my mind however: did the Atrollium’s Sceptre still exist? If so, where was it now? But most importantly, who and what had become of the septonian castaway?

Chapter One

ZOPHOMORE GALAXY

NO MAN’S SPACE

I could be at Yuri’s playing video games with the guys.

I could be reading comics.

Heck, I could be getting my arm sawed off with a blunt knife.

‘Daaddyyy!, Astrid is scowling again.’

The girls’ incessant snickering only succeeded in further darkening Astrid’s mood. Though they were her older sisters by three years, Astrid had always referred to them as the ‘girls’. She considered them one big blob of pink. They weren’t stupid by any means (she considered most pink things stupid – like the pink unicorn teddy bear her father had bought her for her tenth birthday. Astrid had chucked it the next day out of politeness). Unlike most pink things, Vira and Hanna could be downright ruthless and their torture tactics a thing of science. Like at the moment, the garnet green dress she was wearing (and she still couldn’t believe she was in a dress) was a concession she’d struck with her father when he’d emphasized that she would be attending in a dress. Her sisters had heard this of course and had ordered that pink shoulder ruffles be added to her dress. All behind her back! The outfits had arrived too late for any more altercations to be made but instead of crying like they’d probably intended for her to do, Astrid had merely huffed and bought a black shawl to cover the atrocity. Pink on green! Iiiggg!

‘Daaddyyy!’

Fabian Sirko looked up from his paperwork and frowned half-heartedly before studying the figures before him once more. Of course that came as no surprise to Astrid. He barely acknowledged her, and certainly couldn’t be bothered to expand his energy in the wasted efforts of trying to get his youngest to curb her attitude. He was probably busy tallying up the earnings from his various gambling halls (her father wouldn’t trust a priest, never mind his accountants), the most exclusive and lucrative of which were unregistered. Nevertheless, Astrid thought he more than made made up for the tax evasion with the operation fee he had to pay to the bratva. It assured the smooth running of his business. More likely, it assured that he actually had a business to run.

‘She makes us look bad’ Vira continued in a whiney voice, pouting in annoyance.

‘She should’ve stayed at the house’ Hanna reinforced.

‘I also don’t see why I had to come too’ Astrid added, for once in total agreement with her sisters.

‘It is a family event.’

Of course. Family. Blood was everything in the bratva. Astrid thought it had more to do with forced loyalty than any sort of affection. The term referred more to the empire behind the name than the actual members itself. Since she couldn’t scowl at her sisters, Astrid pressed a button to remove the dimmer over her window and stared at the scenery outside. Astrid considered herself well-travelled but even she hadn’t heard of, much less seen, this part of Zophomore. She wondered about their destination, their very current location in fact. Whenever these sort of gatherings happened, the venue was never on an actual planet but a rather large ship called Majestica. It was almost half the size of commercial ones so it was huge for a privately owned ship, housing three four star restaurants, conference rooms of various sizes, and even apartments for rent for anyone wishing to stay for extended periods. It could accommodate up to five hundred passengers comfortably (excluding staff). But even though the occasion had at most a hundred parties attending, the entire ship would be reserved. One of the stipulations of the gathering was that Errol Guyman, the proprietor and organiser, not reveal the co-ordinates of the location ahead of time (as this could result in planned sieges). Errol was one of the very rare individuals who was trusted to never accept a bribe. At just thirty one, he’d been managing the Majestica for the past five years since his father’s death. Before that, he had worked as a foreman, and had grown well acquainted with the different kinds of clients the Majestica attracted. As a subsequent of the rule, the Majestica’s own space shuttles were sent out to fetch the attendees hours or days prior to the gathering (depending on the travelling distance). The sizes of the shuttles were such that a single entourage would not exceed ten (including guards). Astrid was attending with her father, uncle Vlad and two sisters. Five of her father’s men were accompanying them and were now in the other lounge with her uncle where they were probably receiving instructions.

Vira took out a compact mirror. ‘I do hope I run into Misha today,’ she murmured as she pinkened her cheeks with blush. She had met him accidentally the first time, and despite her blatant come hither looks he’d ignored her like she didn’t exist, never mind that she’d been just across the room. Her father’s study more precisely. She’d walked in unannounced thinking her father was alone only to meet her soulmate. She still remembered his expressions. He’d stopped talking mid-sentence at her interruption, frowned disapprovingly at her before looking ahead, probably expecting her father to scold her. Which he had but she hadn’t heard a thing past the violins playing in her heart. She’d stood there and stared at him. He’d sat there and ignored her. Not tonight, Vira thought with satisfaction. She added a hint of gloss, and then satisfied with the picture she presented, shut the compact with a snap before turning to Hanna. ‘Well?’

‘You look like a woman who’s going to get what she wants.’

Vira smiled approvingly at the emboldening compliment, and then habitually turned to hear the opinion of her youngest sister. Hanna didn’t give the younger girl a chance to top her.

‘Just ignore her’, she sneered. ‘She probably doesn’t even know who you’re talking about.’

Of course she’d heard of them, Astrid thought furiously. They were heirs to what was probably one of the largest organised crime families in the lower galaxy. Although she’d never met them in person and had no interest in her father’s business dealings and associates, she knew very well the names of Misha, Nikolai, Jaska and Malachi Marynov. She couldn’t say she’d ever met either of them before. But if rumours were to be believed, you only had to see one to make out the rest. In her case it had been the boss himself Jeroze Marynov. She had seen him from afar on the few occasions he’d met with her father. He was the man her father paid his operations fee to, although direct payments were apparently collected by Nikolai, the second oldest. Astrid had internally dubbed him ‘the government’ since he was essentially a tax-collector, even if the legalities were vastly different.

The shuttle was finally slowing down so Astrid guessed they were about to disembark. Soon the shuttle stopped altogether and a soft hiss indicated the unsealing of the doors. A ramp extended automatically and they all made their way down, with uncle Vlad and the guards bringing up the rear. The garage space was huge, Astrid saw, with enough room to house at least six more shuttles excluding the ten that were already here. They walked towards a great floor-to-ceiling door where they were received by a friendly, well-dressed man.

‘Errol’ her father drawled as he held out his hand ‘one of your more interesting locations’ he commented as he looked at the scenery through the tall windows. Astrid could see now that they were surrounded by colourful fog and floating meteoroid.

The man bowed deeply. ‘My work is my pride, Sir.’ He indicated at one of the suited men to come forward. ‘Please show Mr. Sirko his seat. I’m assuming the rest of your family will be joining you?’

Astrid spoke up before he could answer. ‘Can I go into the restaurant for a few minutes? I didn’t eat.’ When he raised an eyebrow she mumbled, ‘I thought it would get me out of attending,’ she admitted sheepishly.

His frown deepened but he turned to address her sisters instead. ‘You will accompany your sister,’ he began. Astrid didn’t wait to hear the rest of his orders, opting to get a head start instead. Even knowing that she risked her father’s temper later, she couldn’t resist darting inside and sprinting towards the closest restaurant. The sound of her sisters calling behind her only made her quicken her pace. They would probably search here first, she thought. Not out of any sisterly need to look out for her, but purely for the satisfaction of torturing her with their company. She wished she could go somewhere else but she wasn’t familiar with the ship or its restrictions. Far better not to upset father further. Something smells delicious, she thought as she tried to hurry without drawing attention to herself. She really should’ve eaten instead of thinking her father would allow her stay if she cried hunger. Ha! When would she learn? He always considered himself, his girls, and even his pet bulldog ahead her. Wait til she turned seventeen…

‘Would you like a table Miss?’

‘Umm’ Great. Hanna had just entered the restaurant, Astrid saw. She quickly switched her positions with the waitress so that her view was obstructed. The woman was obviously used to all kinds of strange behaviour because she just kept smiling at her.

‘Is there another place close by where I can while away some time? It’s too bright here.’ The lighting was actually perfect, and the views through the high glass ceiling a sight she would’ve appreciated any other time.

The waitress indicated the double doors on the side. ‘Right next door is another section–’

And Astrid was off, only just managing a whispered thank you in her haste. Very few people were occupying this side of the restaurant, no doubt because it didn’t afford the same entrancing view of Zophomore. The lighting was also a lot dimmer and the music so soft it almost wasn’t there. Feeling like her pursuers were right on her heels, Astrid quickly ducked to the floor and crawled under the table closest to her. Lucky for her it was unoccupied, although the leftover meal suggested it had only been very recently vacated. Whatever the meal was, it smelled so divine that she couldn’t resist drawing in the scent greedily with her tilted nose even if her eyes were trained the double doors. Seconds stretched into a minute. Perhaps Hanna had missed her altogether? Unwilling to abandon her hideout just yet, but too hungry to ignore the food above her, Astrid peeked through the silk tablecloth carefully before reaching up and grabbing a handful of banitsa squares from the pastry bowl. She groaned in ecstasy when the cheesy taste exploded in her mouth

Just one more and if there was still no sign of them, she would ask for a table and order up, Astrid thought decisively. Keeping her eyes on the doors, she reached out and suddenly yelped when her arm was grabbed and harshly pulled. Before Astrid could digest what was happening, she was being dragged out from under the table and onto her feet.

‘Well hello there, myshka.’

Astrid looked up to find a pair of menacing but amused eyes staring down at her. His eyes matched her dress to the shade, she thought offhandedly, thinking she would like nothing better than to escape their regard. Why did he look so familiar? She didn’t think it was possible to forget meeting someone like him. Her frenzied efforts to free her limb only earned her a push onto one of the five chairs surrounding the table. She realised her back was to the wall and felt effectively trapped. The boy– no, the man-teenager contemplated her with narrowed eyes as he sipped