The Querencia Gate

By Victor August

Barin Rendón was a soldier in the 'Knight Errant's', roving the planets at the 'beck and call' of whoever needed them. Whichever planet they landed on, often many lightyears apart, it was only those people that had never heard of them that stood their ground. More often than not, the troubles just evaporated away, and with a week or two of hard 'policing', all the 'malcontents' were normally mopped up and made to disappear. A simple outing, ordered by his sergeant, had taken a strange turn, that would set out a completely new destiny for him, one of unimaginable hardships and dangers, but also, startling revelations of who he really was, and the unearthing of truths that had been deliberately hidden from him. Mysteriously, the 'future', had already made plans for him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victor August
• Release date: Nov 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005591663

Book preview

‘The Querencia Gate’

Copyright © 2022 by Victor August

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author.

Cover Illustration Copyright © 2022 by Victor August

All characters in this publication are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

ISBN: 9781005591663

Other books from the same author

‘One Grain of Sand’

ISBN 9781311987327

‘Two Grains of Sand’

ISBN 9781311987327

‘Some journeys are short, some journeys are long, some have to be taken, and some should not have been. There is always a start and always a finish, but it is at its end where we find what we have learned, and how we have changed along its ways, that makes them all important.’

Chapter 1

‘Barin Rendón, you have been found guilty of gross ‘Cowardice in the face of the enemy’; therefore, with the power invested in me, I hereby sentence you to be shot to death at sunrise tomorrow morning’.

And so, it all began for him?

Waking up again was his first surprise, the second, were the contents of the holdall by his side. Besides a few days field rations there was a note telling him ‘Your new name is Ehren Bachusi, make up your own identity, and remember it, as you will for certain be interrogated on it in the future. You are on a space transporter on the way to the outermost recreational planet of Lamashtu, as the hunting lodge caretaker and handyman. Keep going, don’t stop, and don’t look back!’

If you were looking for the Planet Lamashtu from Earth, it was in the Orion Molecular Cloud, a compact and vigorous star factory well over a thousand light-years away, just on the other side of the Orion Nebula. And that was the appeal for the ‘crème de la crème’ of the superrich, as it was the best possible way at the moment to boast of their enormous wealth. A year’s hunting there would cost more than some minor planets ten-year turnover.

Who had helped him? His only and best guess was his sergeant, who knew the truth even as he voiced the lies that would condemn him to death. But one thing about his sergeant was, he would always ‘look after his own’!

How? Well, all condemned prisoners were drugged stupid the night before so they would sleepwalk to their firing squad the following morning, so therefore it would be easy enough to substitute him without any alarm. After all, those that pulled the triggers would not know one blindfolded walking cadaver from another!

What was it all about? Prior to his court-martial, he had not known what charges were laid against him, and even in his court-martial proper, there had been no ‘accusations’ that he was asked to answer to?! There were even arguments he overheard at his cell door, that warded off any help in his defence, ‘If you tell him he will only deny it!’ and ‘He knows already!’ and ‘Best for him not to know really?!’ was the one he could not get his head around? When he was first thrown in his cell, it was even predicted that he would say that he had been ‘set-up’, and laughed out was ‘’…a funny thing is, he will be right!’’ Besides all that, there was sniggering over the report that had travelled with him, in which it was recommended ‘…don’t believe a word that he says…’ Next, to make it all nicely stick together, came the ‘discreditation’ of who he was, and then the ‘character assassination’ to hit it home!

His defence, as it was, just pleaded on his behalf for a quick clean death.

It had all started when he was detailed to look after a young officer cadet. They were on Moon2, of six, around a hostile to life planet near Tau Ceti, 12 light years away from Earth. The six moons had been quarrelling against one another for years, but then real violence was reported between them. There was nothing sophisticated about their intermoon ‘warfare’, it was more of a Civil Disturbance than anything else, but this was just perfect for this young officer cadet to ‘cut his teeth in’ so to speak, a history of ‘active service’, and to ‘terminate definitively’ somebody hostile to the accepted way of things, was all that was required.

When he met him, he knew this future officer was going to be super fast-tracked to the top, as he was the son of Gerouldy, Lord Supreme and Commander in Chief of the armed forces. The sergeant had ordered ‘Do not expose him to any real danger, just let him shoot one of the civilians, and immediately turn tail and get him back to the ship for his safety’.

Simple enough!

Even a coward with a gun in hand has some semblance of courage, but this ‘Officer’ cadet had none! Gerouldy Junior had hidden himself behind him, holding on to his sleeve with his scared eyes averted from the approaching civilians. They were quite amused on seeing this gold braided ‘Uniform’ snivelling away behind a battle-hardened trouper in his worn out and frayed fighting habiliments.

‘’What you got there, taking one of the ‘Lofty Few’ out for his evening walkies, maybe?!’’ was laughed out.

The humiliation he had to swallow whole. The only physical danger they were in right then, was from the sticks and the stones that these ‘rioting aggressors’ were armed with. After forcing the gun into the Officer Cadets hand, and pointing it towards the civilians, all that was needed was for him to pull the trigger, he need not hit one really, and they could be away. The hand felt like a bunch of wet seaweed ‘’Pull the bloody trigger, will you?!’’

To the raucous laughter of the civilians, the gun did not go off!

Squeezing the Cadets fingers, Barin did it for him, until the muted report sounded. These were ultra-high velocity bullets that the sergeant had insisted he took with him. They carried their own propellant that kept rocketing the slug after it had left the barrel and into the victim. On impact with a human body, they were designed to tumble at one hundred thousand R.P.M, tearing apart to a shred the insides. It really did not matter where it hit, within the half second, the target was left like a limp bag of mincemeat, and bone fragments.

After shooting in the air, he then started to drag the white-faced Officer away. In wonderment, Barin mused ‘…this is going to be our new Commander in Chief is it?!’ What sort of report could he write on this outing then, he had to find a way not to lie?! ‘’Come on Sir, just point the gun and fire it, please!’’ he begged.

The terrified eyes that looked into his, told him everything. There was not one shred of bravery in them, or anything like it. Young Gerouldy had been mollycoddled since birth, not once being allowed to step outside of his comfort zone, and never once being allowed to try anything that he might fail at!

On getting back and depositing his charge in the Officers compound, Barin avoided any contact with his sergeant until he could think up something less derogatory than the real facts that he might tell him. As nobody had even been injured, that was going to be impossibly difficult! In the middle of the night, he was knocked unconscious, and then in a cell awaiting his court-martial. Less the exaggerations and lies, the prosecutions statement was exactly what he would have written in his report if he were allowed to tell the real truth that nobody would want to read. However, the difference being, it was he that was branded as the coward and it was this Officer Cadet who was the hero of the hour.

‘’At least sixty innocent civilians were unnecessarily killed to save your worthless hide…!’’ was spat out at him at the court-martial. ‘’…being dragged back to the camp by your collar indeed… you must be riddled with shame…?!’’ was another.

The funny and weird thing was, he did not even know the Officer Cadet’s full name. It was never used in the court-martial; indeed, he was gone from Moon2 within the hour of returning to camp. But what went with Gerouldy Junior though, were his own lies that his future would be founded on, and what was going with the now ‘Ehren Bachusi’ was the real truth that nobody wanted to know. In a strange way, he felt sorry for Gerouldy Junior to have that nagging his mind for the rest of his life. Being a known hero would define his life, and living with that lie, to him, would be better than not living with that lie. One thing was for certain though, he would have to ‘upkeep’ the image he had created for himself, and that would mean ‘ducking and diving’ out of every situation that would challenge him in a similar way.

Hard work! However, no less than ‘Ehren Bachusi’s’ future efforts that he must put in as a ‘lodge caretaker and handyman!’ What did he know of such work?

From all that he knew, he was adrift from, and also, he was alone from his ‘beloved’ hive, a fighting machine really, that was sent first into the worst, of the worst, of the worst, trouble spots. They were the ‘Knight Errant’s’, roving the planets at the ‘beck and call’ of whoever needed them. Wherever they landed, it was only those people that had never heard of them that stood their ground. Mostly, the troubles just evaporated away, and with a week or two of hard ‘policing’, all the ‘malcontents’ were normally mopped up and made to disappear.

But now, he must think for himself! And he had no idea whatsoever on how to go about that?!

‘’Ehren Bachusi report to the landing pod!’’ It was an order, no ‘please’ was in it.

It was all so new to him, and luckily, for him, it was supposed to be! Fumbling around for a few seconds in his work smock for his I.D. that he hoped was there; the Special Guard for the ‘Lofty Few’ drew their weapons and pointed them at him. They were on edge and very dangerous people because of that, as they were born and bred and trained to be.

His DNA sample was taken and his identifications and authorisations were checked off, and then he was unceremoniously pulled and slung by his shoulder into the landing pod. As a ‘relay baton’, he was again passed on down the line into the two hundred strong ‘Support Staff’ cabin. There was no standing room, just enough space to turn and sit down.

‘’I did not see you at the briefing?!’’

‘’Well…, I didn’t see you either?!’’ ‘Ehren’ retorted back.

‘’I am Barns, the ‘Agent and Lodge Steward’ and you will keep surliness out of your tone when you speak to me!’’

‘’Sorry Sir, my name is Ehren Bachusi…’’

‘’I know who you should be! Now, why did I not see you at the briefing?’’

‘’I suppose we just missed each other…? I mean this is where I should be, and am, so I must be here, mustn’t I?’’

While he tried to reason out if it was just sarcasm spoken back at him, Barns looked hard at Ehren. Nevertheless, he was right; if ‘Ehren Bachusi’ was here then he should be here, so were the extremeness of the security protocols. ‘’As soon as we land report to me for your work rota!’’ he snapped out.

Upside down, inside out and back to front, was the only way Ehren could describe his life right then. However, he was alive! It was only the sense of injustice and the overwhelming outrage he was feeling over the matter that was to be his ‘burden’ that he must carry for the rest of his life.

The square mile of the lodge grounds came into view, and it was beautiful! In his eighteen years, Ehren had seen many things, but the sight of this Japanese tsukiyama hill garden still took his breath away, even though he was familiar for what it was. Such sights were to his liking now after he had studied the Japanese culture a bit while he had trained in their ‘combat cruelty’ schools, which specialised in how to make things hurt the most and how to make your opponent scream the loudest.

The huge lodge in the North West corner was as magnificent too. Made of redwoods, it had Japanese undertones and overtones in its five-story design. There were many verandas; some were large communal types, but the majority were small private ones at each bedroom.

It was late evening on their landing approach, and the lodges decorative lights blazed together with the strategic garden illuminations. It was a tiny island in the blackness of the surrounding country and it was another scene to astound you.

For over three hours, Ehren sat there with all the other staff until their landing pod was emptied of people and cargo.

A bored lodge representative ordered them off with just a short ‘’Come on…!’’

They took lifts down into the staff tunnels that would be Ehren’s world from then on. The underground Staff Quarters was quite extensive; they had their own world down there, including shops and entertainment venues, a hospital, and a school. There were over a thousand support workers and their children come the end when the pod took off for its mother ship and the two-year turnaround.

What Ehren felt was missing was any element of excitement, in anyone. The two hundred new people he was with were ushered into a hall where they listened to a dry, tired, and gabbled welcoming speech. Twenty odd brochures and pamphlets were handed out with the advice to ‘...make sure you read it all for your own safety…’, that was because anybody not being where they should be, would, for certain, be shot by the guests ‘Special Guard’.

Then he lined up with the rest who were being checked off and given specialised booklets for their own personal support role.

‘’Lodge Caretaker and Handyman Ehren Bachusi.’’ he was introduced as to the ‘ticker offer’.

‘’Barns has booted him down to ‘Unskilled Labour’ for some reason?!’’ The ‘ticker offer’ looked up at him explaining ‘’…that will mean a drop of seventy-five percent in your salary you know?’’

As if he could do anything about that? Ehren just shrugged.

‘’Well… as long as you are happy with it, then? You are to report to Barns now by the look of it, so you will miss your dinner you know?!’’

Showing indifference, as he could do nothing about that too, he shrugged again.

‘’Well, all right… off you go, then, follow your map.’’

It was easy enough; the safe area was the green zone and the danger zone was coloured red. Barns’s office was marked and Ehren knocked on the door.

‘’Come in…!!’’ was angrily shrieked at him. ‘’Your late, wait in there until I have the time and patience to see you!’’

For the rest of the night he was in that stuffy little waiting room, it was mid-morning the next day before Barns secretary came and got him, explaining ‘’Here is a list of what he needs you to do today.’’

The list contained no ‘Unskilled Labour’ work; it was obviously aimed at the skills of a caretaker and handyman. In passing, Ehren saw an ‘I dare you!’ look on Barns’s face.

Once more, Ehren just shrugged the insult away.

It was early afternoon by the time he found his quarters and his workshop. Because of the security protocols of getting passes and then getting them authorised and stamped, it took him another two hours before he got to his first job; it was at a service elevator between the upper guest deck and the major store in the basement. It was an electrical/ mechanical job; where the return spring was weak on the ‘down’ button, which kept the lift where it was. The job was no more difficult than servicing some of the armaments that he was familiar with. Removing the panel, he twisted the pushbutton body off the back of it, dismantled the button, and then stretched the spring out a bit before reassembling the panel, and then he pressed the ‘up’ button.

It was lucky for him that the security guards each side of the lift did not turn around! The plush absolute luxury Ehren saw he could hardly believe, it was an ‘alternative reality’ as far as he was concerned.

The lift doors closed and he went down again.

Wearying and hungry now, Ehren coped with one small manhandling job before he went on a search for some food. Just before Barns stormed in and started screaming at him again, he had managed to eat what was left off some abandoned plates in the canteen, and slurped down the dregs from several cups of cold coffee.

‘’I am just ‘Unskilled Labour’…. remember?!’’ was his excuse that only two of the six jobs on the list had been done, which could not be argued at!

The next morning the ‘ticker offer’ found him out and told him ‘’Seems your elevated to ‘Semiskilled’, a bit better money too, well done.’’

So, all Ehren did that day was what he considered was the ‘Semiskilled’ jobs, leaving many complex high priority work undone.

The following day the ‘ticker offer’ told him that he was promoted to full lodge caretaker and handyman. And so it was, that he had won his first battle with Barns, the ‘Agent and Lodge Steward’, but this one-sided war between them would go on and on and tediously on.

Over the next three years, Ehren made no friends, he preferred being alone while there was still a very real death sentence on his head, and he wanted to mature this ‘Ehren Bachusi’ a bit anyway, that he was now, before exposing himself as this man. As he got better at his work, his log showed that he had not done any repeat job any faster than he did the last time, where in fact he was able to cut a few hours off for himself now and again to explore and relax. Occasionally, he had to endure further screaming fits from Barns, which became increasingly bizarre as time went by. Once he was in one corner of the underground utility compartment when Barns came in blaring, blaming him for being ‘there’ when he needed him in his ‘workshop’?

‘’But it was you who personally sent me out here this morning?!’’ was Ehren’s immutable truth.

‘’Yeah, but you asked to work at the lodge!’’ was his cryptic reply before he angrily stormed away?

Bemused as ever, Ehren let it go at that.

Except for that few seconds glance at the grandeur of the lodge all Ehren saw were the walls of his underground world. Unbeknownst to him he was on a two-year contract that had been re-signed again by the ‘ticker offer’. Four years later, he was approached by the replacement ‘ticker offer’ asking him if he wanted to renew his two-year contract once again?

Thinking he might just as well, he forged that last ‘ticker offer’s’