Chronicle 45, Chronicle 46: RetroStar Chronicles, #2

By R.D. Ginther

   Chronicle 45 began with Wally deliberating about his deteriorating base at Tutasix, Meshullam's brothers being massacred and Zenobia and Assah's journey to Keftiu amongst many other incidents that had been taking place.  He was familiar with only a few of FC's moves on the gameboard, and he still had to keep a keen eye on the Atlanteans and OP.  Wally figured out a cunning plan that pitted the Red Star (OP) against the Atlanteans with pleasing results. Per-aa had two dreams and finally it was Yosef's time to shine. Despite Asenath's fears for the worst outcome for her future, she was pleasantly surprised by her new husband, a 'father who was no father.' The scene returned to Daedalus, who with his young ship crew, crashed their boat trying to escape the Mycenaeans. But this was just the beginning of their relentless string of tragedies. Tamar barely escaped her city that was under attack by the Philistines. Without food and water, she was sure to perish but her father-in-law came to her rescue.  Op the Red Star, finally meets his match and it's checkmate for FC.

 

     In Chronicle 46 Wally was back at Tutasix making necessary maintenance on his base. It had been a few thousand years and he was aging but to make matters worse, the glaciers were creeping towards Atka where his base was located. Wally had to do some quick thinking to divert this impending catastrophe. Some time had passed now and Yosef had died. Strange occurrences in the sky had the people of Mizraim in awe, and another OP appeared on the scene.  Simultaneously, the Atlanteans landed in Mizraim which put the priests and the Per-aa in an unusual position, as they sought alliance with these strange 'gods'.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.A.Edwards
• Release date: Sep 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201605957

Book preview

CHRONICLE 45

ANNO STELLAE 5391

1    The Per-aa Dreamed

Wally was a supercomputer ,  and considering he was 3,221 years old, give or take a few years, he could still do phenomenal things when he put his oar in.  But he was not FC, and could not know all things and omnipotently do all things he desired to do.  How long could he last, with the deterioration of his base at Tutasix?  Would he be forced into a late retirement?  Age related or simply the problems that weathering had produced in Tutasix, he was not all he had been the early days.  Perhaps, the extreme challenges and stresses leading up to the Re-location of the Earth had taken something out of him?

Therefore, he missed seeing or recording or data-banking things that were happening at various times, the concatenation of  events concerning Yacob and the Hebrew families, Yosef and his Mizraimite owners and the estate and the prison, with everyone who he dealt with in those sites. 

The sanguinary events do not end there.   Meshullam and his caravan and then the massacre of all of Meshullam’s brothers except Abdullah also evidenced his absence.  A little delayed followed the assassination of Meshullam by Simeon and his cohorts soon after he and Judah buried Meshullam’s brothers in a mass grave.

Other things Wally did not get completely into were Zenobia and  Assah’s journey to Keftiu and her doings there, and the career of Daedalus the Crown Prince of Keftiu and the orphan children,  and the mission journey of Kezia and Bildad. 

As for all of FC’s moves on the gameboard, he recognized some, but not all.  He also did not know all going on with the Atlanteans, and certainly he was not sitting in a ringside seat when OP went after the Universe to destroy it. 

Despite the urgency of  monitoring Yosef’s ordeal in the Sohar, Wally was hard-pressed to turn his attention to other developments.  After briefly checking to see if Yosef was alive—he was—Wally felt impelled to leave  Yosef’s survival to the Fobidden Category as he turned to the question of the  Universe’s proliferating diamonds.  These immense diamonds were shooting out through the universe and were even threatening Earth II with collisions that would wipe it out many times over. 

What was producing them?  As he looked into it, he soon found the answer.  Within the doomed galaxies OP was attacking, normal stellar processes were being violently interrupted, with some very strange and spectacular results.

Extremely common binary stars often produced novas.  Individual stars, far less common, did not, unless they were of giant size.  The potential situation for a  nova developed whenever one of the pair of stars consumed all its hydrogen before the other and then it would flare for 200 million years or so.  After exhausting its helium it would shrink to an Earth-sized dwarf  star.

Alone in space,  a star of middling size lacked sufficient mass  and  nothing other than a temporary flaring up could be expected to happen before the eventually cooling and shrinking end of the star to a mere glowing cinder.  But if the star had a companion there was a very good chance of it exploding in a spectacular nova. 

In virtually countless binaries, novas were about to occur when the red star intervened.  Billions of stars were at the stage where the dwarf core converted to carbon and then compacted  to diamond.  Gases drawn from companion stars had reached speeds of 5,000 km. a second around the dwarf stars, and by abrasion and compression they had heated toward ten million degrees, the critical threshold of nuclear fusion.  At that point, since the dwarf stars’ degenerate mantles could not shed or absorb heat, the heat ordinarily should have ignited and exploded the stellar dwarves.

The Red Star, almost totally engaged in its orgy of senseless destruction, took no notice of incipient nova-hood.  It exploded all stars in its path, whatever the stage they were in, and so many dwarf-star diamond cores blew away intact before the diamond could be atomized by a full-blown nova.  Millions, then billions, of unexploded diamonds, many the size of Earth and sometimes bigger, were hurled to the four quarters of the Universe.  Rolling outwards with gas, dust, and heavy elements, the diamonds flew at half the speed of light toward remaining galactic superclusters including  Earth II’s home galaxy, 3C 295.

Polished to brilliance in the abrasive clouds of debris, the diamond stars drew Wally in for a close inspection.  One he found was double the size of Earth.

Even in the swirling darkness it sparkled with unbearable radiance.  As he alighted on the surface it seemed the entire Universe had become that diamond, it so overpowered the darkness and destruction around him with sheer splendor and beauty.

Of the kind that contained boron, it shone with its own rare color, blue.  But it wasn’t only the color that attracted him.  The thermal and electrical conductivity of blue diamonds was well known to him, though his specialty had never been science.

As he drew the trajectories of the blue diamond and a host of others, he estimated that as many as 10,000 would cross 3C 295.  Of  that number Earth’s orbit might see fifty.  But what would he do with fifty world-sized diamonds?  What use could diamonds weighing 6 sextillion tons, or 29,990,400,000,000,000,000 carats, be?  Others weighed 12 sextillion tons and up to 18 sextillion tons. 

Reflecting on the problem, Wally left the diamonds and flew back to Earth, where he knew he would have to organize his defense strategy very soon or face the consequences.

He had additional reason to do so.  Atlanteans, no longer content to keep out of sight while making their plans fail-proof,  appeared more openly now.  In his reconnaissance he counted over fifty starships in the Atlantean fleet,  all operating in the light of day.  Obviously, this was not going to be a looky-loo flyby.

They had made many tentative nibbles in the past,  trying the waters, so to speak.  They had even dared to meddle in society and abducted quite a number of  people, perhaps for experimentation, probably for blood.  But they had not,  up to now, attempted a full-scale re-colonization of  Earth.

The spectacle of a fully-revived mid-Atlantic continent was,  apparently, irresistible,  overcoming any consideration  of  risk they thought they might face.  Elektra,  having failed in health for quite some time, was fully recovered—sporting a new body.  She had reasserted all her former powers too.  With a vengeance she turned back to her aim to subjugate the Earth and reduce all its inhabitants to slaves,  which she thought was only fit to supply her with man-power and blood.

While Wally pondered his final defense of Earth, two years  passed since Yosef interpreted the dreams of  the  Chief Cupbearer  and Chief Baker.  Then came the debacle,  the unspeakable failure of Yosef when he stood before the Per-aa and could not come up with one single word of interpretation after the Per-aa related his dreams  (for he had two, not one, though they were double dreams, the same dream given two portrayals).

Hurriedly, other diviners and wizards were rushed in to fill the ALARMING gap, but Khian was now in such bad humor he wouldn’t listen and threw them all out with consequences that were more than life threatening.  As for Yosef, he had been pulled from prison, so back to prison he went, which was bad enough for  anybody  that was being punishment. 

Potiphar, hearing of the successful interpretations of the Masgeh and Opeh’s dreams, was not surprised.  He knew nothing would come of it, and for his own situation, which stood to lose greatly if Yosef were freed, he thought Yosef’s freedom might entail his own disgrace.

It seemed he was right to be cynical concerning the best intentions of human nature—at least for two years.  The Chief Cupbearer (or Masgeh)  had been restored to his high position at court, but once restored to the whirl of court society the official soon forgot the entire unpleasant episode, treating it as though it had never happened because he wanted to move on in life.  Yosef,  left to languish in prison, should not have expected any different treatment from the Masgeh, many besides Potiphar would have agreed.

Yet, according to Ramoseh’s sad report, he had expected to be remembered, and evidently his heart had been broken.  That was the type of man that was Yosef!  Any other man would have not put so much stock in another’s good intentions.  He would have cut his losses, and continued as usual.  But not Yosef!  He sought full vindication and his freedom restored along with reconciliation with his family back in Ken’an. 

If Potiphar came to know the full extent of Yosef’s dreams and how he believed they would someday, somehow, be fulfilled in his life, he might well have responded:  Don’t hold your breath, Yosef!

So  the worldly court butcher turned military commander and prison overseer, Potiphar,  judged from his knowledge of men;  yet he found he was mistaken. 

Ramoseh came with even more remarkable news.  Putting aside fear a second failure would surely bring him decapitation and the tree of vultures, he had dared to present himself a second time at court!      

How did sensible people view his decision?  It was sheer death to disappoint a king.  Once was bad enough.  Twice was madness!

Yet even the Masgeh,  deposed for the second time,  must have been convinced that Yosef was not mad because he accompanied him to court for the fateful interview, knowing full well they would share the same fate if Yosef failed to produce a credible interpretation.

Now desperation incarnate,  Khian  was  persuaded to try again at the trembling Chief Cupbearer's behest. 

Just before Yosef’s debacle,  Ramoseh had gone as usual to visit Yosef.  During Tep-dut-we’s regime, he had been turned away many times with abuse and disdain by the former laundry-slave on Potiphar’s estate who had turned the worst Steward Potiphar ever had before landing his pudgy, lazy self  at the prison.

Yosef’s former servant sat on Yosef's mat, with Yosef's pen and papyrus, and made records of his transactions, selling prisoners' food and even their clothing in the outside markets for this and that favor for himself from the guards he bribed.

Now Ramosef found Tep-dut-we  (whom the whole prison called Tep-dut-weh, adding the h which made his name mean thief) gone, kept in deepest detention in the depths of the prison. 

Yosef?   He was in the warden’s room, already dressed in a second robe of fine,  white linen (the late Chief Baker's court clothes given him by the jailor and Masgeh).

Sitting on a stool in the commander's room, instead of down in the dark depths of the prison, Yosef  had already been bathed and shaven once again for his court appearance.  With comb in hand,  the Chief Cupbearer's valet put the finishing touches to the elaborate court wig that covered Yosef’s hair.

As Ramoseh waited quietly for a private word with Yosef whom he considered still his Overseer,  the valet related to  the many times  Per-aa Khian had interviewed  the wizards and soothsayers  of  the kingdom for interpretation, who all seemed to grow in importance and strutting posture the more Khian’s self-assurance and powers shrank. 

While he watched Yosef being made ready, Ramoseh had good opportunity to see if Yosef was afraid or nervous.  But Yosef looked very calm.  Evidently, he did not fear he would fail as he had previously. 

Then a flustered, red-faced palace guard hurried in and told the warden that they should cut short the preparations and proceed to the palace at once. 

Willing to go an extra length for his own advantage, the alarmed  Per-aa Khian had  set  aside  all  business  of  state  and  was anxiously waiting in the Hall of the Sacred Papyrus.

Leaving the Sohar in the company of the Masgeh, the warden, and many court attendants,  Yosef paused a moment to speak with Ramoseh.  Since Ramoseh could not be admitted to the palace to watch the proceeding,  Yosef agreed to either send word or return to the prison and tell him everything. 

So Ramoseh waited at the prison,  but after a while he thought to go to the palace gate to listen and possibly over-hear something of the matter  from  the Hyksos  and  Aramean  guards.

He knew many guards personally from his periodic visits at the prison,  as they were constantly shifted back and forth  between palace  and  prison.

Since  crowds of people customarily waited by the gate to see certain officials coming and going, he knew he could stand there as long as he liked and not be driven off by the palace guards wielding whips. 

The news of what had happened at Yosef's first appearance was common knowledge.  That he was again to try the patience of the Per-aa attracted even more attention, as people expected to view his beheading and hanging in a tree,  so the news from court was not  long coming.

As the events within the high false-pillared walls spread within the ranks, the  guards  were  talking  about  it  excitedly.

One  of  them noted Ramoseh  (who was silently praying for a way to approach them), and called him over.

You of all people should hear this!  declared  the  friendly  guard.  It concerns our Hebrew friend from the prison.

The  guard then  told him Yosef had been taken in to the palace by aides of the Chief Cupbearer,  after he had preceded Yosef and gone and stood before Khian  in the Hall of  the  Sacred Papyrus until he had been summon to explain his appearance and appeal.

Since the first audience with Yosef had been so disgraceful,  the hall was empty of other officials,  and,  except for the palace guards,  Khian,  with a characteristic fit of rage,  had  sent most everyone else packing.

Per-aa looked gaunt and ill as had become usual of late;  he hardly ever rose now  from the  throne  without help since the loss of Machitha and the encircling of the capital by Ibbathans and their allies and mercenaries, the Mycenaeans. 

As  for  the  Grand Taty,  the  latest  was outside the palace,  still hanging in a tree and reduced to some rags of cloth and bare bones.    His head?  Tossed into a garbage dump for the dogs to gnaw.

So the guards were not surprised when the Per-aa’s face grew very stern and ominous when the handsome, young diviner  re-entered the great hall after Khian agreed to another appearance and try at an interpretation of his dreams.

At the first audience the Per-aa had acted so differently.  Then he had been so eager he had jumped up once or twice, then sat down, re-adjusting his royal robe.  And he had remarked loudly, That's strange!  He doesn't wear pointed slippers or have one of those long, tied-on white beards for me to pull off!

Now, in contrast,  he was a cornered rat, but, more to the reality,  silent as a  gliding, stalking cobra,  his eyes boring into the approaching diviner, who halted and bowed, hands out in appeal,  stretching himself down before Per-aa in seven-fold, one knee supported prostrations.

FROM THE FRIENDLY GUARD and the others at the guardhouse who joined in adding details, Ramoseh pieced together the whole scene and what happened. 

Khian, with ice in his voice, then said to Yosef, You disappointed me once, prisoner!  Fail me twice, and you will bear the consequences!  There is one who can interpret it—El Elyon, you said, I believe, at our last encounter.  Well, perhaps you have found another god in the meantime, not so invisible, since he proved utterly no use to you.  Otherwise, I cannot think how you dare come before me a second time,  if you still trust yourself and the interpretation to him!

As for the Masgeh whose life was on the line with Yosef’s,  the Chief Cupbearer's face paled and he could scarcely keep erect.

Yosef rose from his bows and said: Again, the gift is not in me, O Per-aa, but it is  El Elyon who will give Per-aa an answer.

Harumph!  You demonstrate to me a neat way to sidestep issues.  Hold to that god if you insist!  But the issue here is not which god is best, the issue is which interpretation is correct.  I must know!  I’ve heard a thousand already, and they make no sense to me at all!  I might as well interpret my dreams myself, for all the good it does to turn to soothsayers and sorcerers and seers!  But since you have offered, interpret!  Just know that your head, and the Masgeh’s, hangs on every word you utter!

All  the  guards attending were amazed to observe Yosef's brave but respectful demeanor.

After Khian’s introductory harangue, most anyone would have been trembling to the point of  collapse, but not Yosef!  [he had been seventeen when he was taken down to Mizraim; now he was thirty, in the fulness of maturity]

Here he stood, stoutly re-affirming his belief in his invisible El Elyon before a  Per-aa who, times beyond number, had declared the death sentence to those who flippantly plied the king with pious sentiments in favor of some god or other when he jealously reserved all his piety for his Hyksos dogheaded-donkey god.

Having repeated the dreams so many times, the  Per-aa rattled through the account of his two dreams,  describing the seven fat cows that came up out of the River, only to see them devoured by seven lean cows.  The second dream concerned seven fat ears of  bread-corn being devoured by seven lean ears. 

Seven fat cows!  Seven lean cows!  Fat cows eat grass, the lean cows eat the fat cows!  Seven fat ears of corn!  Seven lean ears!  The seven lean ears eat the seven fat ears of corn! 

However many times they heard it, the guards in the hall could make nothing much of the dreams, except that many suspected, but kept silent about it, that Khian had eaten too many sweetmeats before bed, tossed down with wine and oysters and pig livers fried in olive oil and garlic and leeks—his favorite bedtime snack. 

They wondered Yosef would fare when he failed to come with an explanation good enough to satisfy the wily Per-aa the time before.   

Yosef was already under a death sentence for the first failure.  What would Khian do to him the second time?  Even the beheading and hanging in a tree for the vultures might not satisfy his rage.  Whatever it was he would think up specially for Yosef and his Masgeh, it would be unspeakable.

He had been  known  to  take high  officials  who displeased  him  by  mentioning  a battle he did not want to hear about and stuff them into furnaces alive—after he had struck off portions of their anatomies.

Others he flayed in a gradual process that permitted the unfortunate to observe most of his body skin removed  and served to dogs and vultures before he expired.  Their families too were seized, and they were given the same treatment to entertain even the official before he himself was flayed!

Khian was smiling that grim, tight upper lip and loose, hanging lower lip smile of his and the Chief