Chapter One: Ice Cream and Cake
Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is mystery. Today is a gift—Eleanore Roosevelt

It was a significant day.
The Day of Adaral. The first day of Summer. The first day of the Arrassian year. The beginning of a month of festivities. It was also Queen Alea Zormna Clendar Tarrn’s sixteenth birthday.
Zormna awoke in her uppercity queen’s chambers feeling, as always, troubled about her nightmares. It seemed that there was not a day gone by now that she did not dream about war. It was as if the revolution and ousting of the High Class awoke her to the sense of her prophetic duty and she could not shut it off. It was one thing getting informed by Jafarr Zeldar, her bodyguard and good friend since their living on Earth, about the prophecy—but now that she had enough grasp on the Ancient language so that she could read about it herself, the dreams came more fully.
What she knew of her supposed foreseen duty was that she was to be a savior to her people. She was to save them from tyrrany—which she did when they unseated the High Class and exiled them to live without technology in a word in the Aloean solar system, light years from there. Of course, with Arrassian technology, the trip was a hop skip and a jump. They could fold space and jump from one point to the next—as long as it wasn’t too far away. But exiled and abandoned without technology to that world, the High Class was harmless and better caged than them simply locking them up in prison after all the murders they committed. It was Zormna’s mercy that sent them there. Yet in her dreams she saw Dural Korad’s face—the People’s Military officer that hated her and Jafarr so severely he sought to kill them; but in her dreams he looked ragged, beaten and not where she left him.
Zormna got up and shook her head, trying to clear those images from her mind. Since she had gotten to know Jafarr Zeldar better (more than an antagonistic rival and irritant but as a friend) she had learned and, she thought, acquired some of his skills and curses. She used to only dream of the past—which was horrid on its own but now she dreamed of things in the future that she didn’t want to see. At times she could see far off images of places she did not know, and they frightened her.
All she had ever hoped for, she thought as she abandoned her nightgown and climbed into the shower before the royal servants came, was for some peace and a bit of fun. She showered, thinking about what she had to do that day, her nightmares sifting out of her thoughts like sand and washing away down the drain.
The chemical bath went swiftly. She was climbing out and drying herself off before all her tense thoughts vanished. Only one of those thoughts remained in her head—it was the second real celebrated birthday she would have in ages. She was sixteen Parthan years old that day, her first birthday as queen of Arras. That meant a formal gathering rather than the nice private Earth-style party that she had the year before when she turned fifteen. It was the beginning of her ninth Arrassian year, the end of her eighth and the first real birthday party she would have on her home world.
When she was a young child, before her parents were murdered, they held small family celebrations where they ate their favorite foods and she received one really nice present—usually a puzzle toy that she could use but would not indicate that there was a child in the house. When they were killed and she lived with her uncle, her birthday was sparse—not that he didn’t love her, but that he did and he wanted to keep her safe. She received her last birthday gift from him, the last for many years—a puzzle cube. Since he was killed and she lived in the Surface Patrol (their national orphanage that raised children as soldiers) she had no birthday celebrations at all since it would indicate whom she was—the only living child born on the day of Adaral.
Not one child living had a birthday in that month because the government killed them all, in fear of the prophecy—the prophecy about Zormna, which said that a child born on the day of Adaral would unseat them and banish them. Of course Zormna fulfilled the prophecy—no matter what they did. A typical result in such cases.
But that was all old news and here she was, having a birthday again.  
Zormna dressed in one of her nicer suits. She would have preferred wearing plainer pants and a nice t-shirt, but that day she knew she had to look nice for the public.
“Are you decent?” the voice of Zor, her maidservant called into the room.
Smirking, Zormna replied, “Occasionally.”
Zor laughed and entered the room. Zormna had acquired good allies and friends in some of her servants. Zor was one of them. A Servant Class woman with a good sense of humor and a strong sense of loyalty to her, Zor was a comfort and pleasurable company. Though Zormna did not care to have servants at all, she found the company of Zor the best to be chosen for that unwanted task, and she was reconciled to being waited upon.
“I brought your breakfast. It is in the kitchen as you ordered, though I don’t understand what it is,” she said with a shrug.
Zormna smiled and hopped towards the door, pulling on a boot. “If they made what I ordered right, then you can have breakfast with me and try some.”
Zor lifted up her hands and shook her head. “Oh, no. I already ate. Besides, some of that food looks cagey.”
Strapping up the boot and clipping them in place, Zormna stood up straight and strode through the door to the kitchen counter where the tray of food, covered to keep warm, sat. Lifting the huge brass cover off, Zormna looked at the plate of food and smiled.
“It looks right,” she said, picking up a fork that lay next to it.
Nodding, Zor followed her and peered over her shoulder. “They even brought you those Parthan eating utensils—special order… but what is that? It smells strange.”
Poking the yellow and brownish square that steamed upward towards their noses, Zormna drew in a breath and smiled. She let out her breath and said, “This, Zor, is French toast.”
The woman made a face and shrugged. “Parthan food… it looks so…”
She couldn’t finish.
Zormna nodded. “I thought it looked very squishy and slimy the first time I saw it too. You should have a hamburger some time. Eating that is a feat the first try. Sandwiches and pizza… Jell-O…” Zormna laughed and cut the toast with the side of her fork. Stabbing it, she held it up to Zor. “Try it. I’m positive you’ll like it.”
Zor made a face and eyed Zormna. “This isn’t one of your pranks is it?”
This made Zormna laugh and shake her head. “No prank. It actually is good. I personally hope Parthan restaurants set up here. You have no idea what we have missed out on. Our pride and joy may be tsilk and kalger—but they have granola bars and ice cream.”
“Ice cream?” Zor said, still grimacing as if anything other than her own food would not be good.
“And chocolate,” Zormna said with a nod.
“Didn’t you order this ice cream to be shipped here for the party?” Zor asked, taking the bit of French toast from off Zormna’s fork and holding it gingerly in her fingers.
Zormna cut off and stabbed another piece of the moist eggy bread and stuck it into her mouth, chewing and nodding.
Still looking uncomfortable, Zor opened her mouth and stuck in the now cool piece Zormna had handed her. Trying not to taste but just to chew and swallow, Zor handled her bite as quickly as possible. When she did swallow, she stood and blinked.
“Did I taste egg?” she asked.
With a laugh Zormna replied, “Yes, and I know you like egg.”
Zor nodded and then bit her lip. With a bit of blush and caution she asked, “Could I have another bite?”
Still laughing, Zormna shoved over the plate, which had about five pieces of French toast on it. She picked up another fork off the tray.
“Have more than a bite. I ordered plenty for both of us,” she said.
Blushing with embarrassment Zor took the fork and watched how Zormna cut the toast, mimicking her. And together they ate breakfast, chatting and laughing about how good this Earth dish was.

*

Jafarr Zeldar had an apartment next to Zormna’s. He awoke around the same hour she did. He had no servants as he was merely a president and not of the direct royal line as Zormna. He was of royal blood—the only other descendant of Zeldar Tarrn on the planet—but his lineage were not heirs to throne as Zormna’s line was. However, he was quite content with his private life, and he washed, dressed, and ate breakfast at his own pace. Of course he also had not forgotten it was Zormna’s birthday. He was the major mover in organizing a real birthday party—mixing both Arrassian traditions with Earth traditions—specifically the American traditions they followed when they both had been in that country less than a year ago. Their friends were invited and diplomats from the foreign countries of Earth were also invited. It was a diplomatic and friendly home celebration for the girl that deserved a party to make up for the all the misery she had experienced in her life. Not that a party could do that in reality, but he felt that she deserved better treatment than she got in these last few years—that and she needed a break.
Pulling on his own suit coat, a red one that matched one of Zormna’s suits as many of theirs did to show solidarity in their national ruling, Jafarr adjusted his collar and peered in the mirror to make sure he looked ok. His blacker than black hair needed a slight trim. It fell long into his eyes as always, but the back was now longer than he liked. Stroking his chin and feeling the stubble that was forming there, Jafarr contemplated how long it would take for him to grow a real beard, or possibly a villainous goatee so he could look like all those sly characters in Robin Hood movies.
Smirking, he picked up his shaver and proceeded to cut off all the stubble—which was still really sparse despite his more mature growth and broadening of shoulders. He had been looking less of a kid these last few months, and he actually had to get the tailor to adjust some of his suits to fit him better.
He had nearly finished his dressing routine when Zormna and Zor strode into the room, both holding a tray and grinning as if they had been laughing a bit much and were ready to burst out laughing again. Jafarr turned and blinked at them.
“Hello. And what brings you this way so early?” he asked, eyeing the tray and then looking up at them.
“Breakfast,” Zormna replied, still grinning.
He looked at the tray and said, tilting his head and lifting his eyebrows, “You didn’t poison it did you?”
With a derisive snort and a roll of her eyes, Zormna strode over and placed it on his kitchen bar. “Don’t be stupid, Jafarr. I merely wanted to wish you a happy birthday and give you a treat.”
Jafarr laughed and walked over to the breakfast tray. “Uh, Zormna, it usually works the other way. I wish you a happy birthday and give you a present—remember?”
“Really?” she smiled, feigning innocence and a mindlessness not usually associated with her. “Well then, thank you. Where is my present?”
He laughed harder and said, “You sly dog. I told you you’re not getting it until the party.”
She slumped into a fake pout and lifted the breakfast tray. Under it were three pieces of French toast.
He opened his eyes at once and stared in amazement. Looking up at her, he gasped. “How…?”
“Todd,” Zormna replied with an innocent shrug. “He told my cook how to make it, and I had him make enough for three. Zor and I already had ours.”
Blinking with a grin spreading across his amazed face, Jafarr looked up and back to his breakfast several times. At last he settled with a dazed expression on his face and gazed at her, shaking his head. “Sometimes I am amazed by you… but others….” He laughed. “You really out did yourself this time. It looks great.”
Zormna shrugged again and said, “I figured you’d appreciate it.” Then she hopped up and moved towards the door, beckoning Zor to come with her. Waving back to Jafarr she said, “I’ll see you at the Great Hall.”
Jafarr nodded and smiled at her watching her leave. Indeed she deserved a great party, and he would make it happen.

*

“Alea!” the young Beta district officer called, turning from his radio and scanner. “Alea Grenn! Look at this.”
A middle aged blonde haired man with red streaks in his hair strode across the room to where the anzer was operating the space scanning equipment. He leaned over and peered at the screens where the young soldier was pointing.
“What do you think this is sir?” the young man said. “It’s been flying this way rather fast. It has already passed Dannpros  and is approaching Larrs. ”
“When did you start tracking it?” the alea asked.
Swallowing, the soldier said, “It appeared outside Zantha  a half hour ago. I think it is a ship.”
“A ship?” the Beta district leader said, almost gasping. “Did you notify Zeta about this?”
“I was just going to sir,” the anzer replied with a stout nod.
“Do so,” the Beta leader ordered. “I’ll notify the kevin. If it is a hostile entity we might need the whole fleet to take it down. Our domes don’t have the security grid set up yet, and I dare say if they were destroyed it would be bad for Arras and Partha.”
“Yes sir,” the anzer replied and tuned in the radio frequency at once, calling in, “Zeta thirteen, Zeta thirteen, this is Beta seven. Reply. Zeta thirteen, this is Beta seven on urgent business, code Damor Waz three. Reply.”
He waited.
<<This is Zeta Thirteen, Beta seven. What’s the problem?>> the other end buzzed through the com.
Taking a breath to calm himself, the anzer said, “We have been tracking an unidentified object heading into our solar system on our scanners. It is coming nearer at an accelerated rate. We fear hostile intentions.”
<<Copy that Beta seven. We also just spotted it. Alea Salvar has sent ships from the Larrs station construction site to intercept it. We are waiting now to see if it is a hostile ship or an incoming asteroid.>>
“We’re notifying the kevin of the object,” the anzer replied.
<<Copy that, and tell him that Alea Salvar is right on it but he wants a standing fleet ready.>>
“Copy that Zeta thirteen, over and out.” The anzer turned and looked at the scanner again and watched the screen as the object flew on towards the huge ringed gas giant also known as Saturn on Earth.

Out in space the Zeta district ships waited in the rings of Saturn watching for the object that was zipping through space, slower than light but fast all the same. From the space station they were building within the rings they sent out a general message in Arrassian, telling them to slow down. It broadcast, <<This is Arrassian space. Slow down and identify yourselves.>>
And they waited.
But the object did not slow. It whipped past Saturn. All the Zeta ships in the rings saw the elongated ancient looking spacecraft fly by. For a moment they all watched with stunned faces. It was an ancient Arrassian ship—the kind they had long since scrapped once they entered the underground city ten thousand years ago, large enough to hold an eighth of the population of the city—or possibly an army.
“Aloea,” breathed out on many lips. Their ships broke out of Saturn’s rings immediately to intercept the large spacecraft.
<<Identify yourselves.>> their radios transmitted to the huge craft.
At once the enormous ship slowed. The Arrassian fighters zipped around and encircled the hulking space vehicle, surrounding it and sending out warnings, waiting for a reply but bracing for an attack.
Their coms buzzed. A human sounding voice replied, but in a tongue foreign to them. <<Del’liin ngandal’qa. Em snachaw’am iin ngaleq.>>
“What do you make of it?” one man murmured to another, watching the giant ship.
<> Their radios buzzed with this foreign voice again.
“It doesn’t sound like Arrassian,” another man murmured.
But then the voice spoke in a tongue they did recognize. It was Ancient Arrassian. <>
No one could understand it of course, but right away they knew it was the Aloeans.
An alea and head of the Zeta Saturn fleet commanded the ships to escort them to Arras. He replied to the ship, hoping they would understand, “Come with us.”
Straight away they started their flight. The head Arrassian ship folded space. Ships around the gigantic craft vanished into nothingness, reappearing around Arras where they awaited the strange new visitor. The ancient ship started once again and sped up, zipping again towards the center of the solar system.