Ultra Nova Root

Mira Kalihar stood expectantly by the Czar’s table. The large man sat on a throne, and the Empress, a slim woman with long red hair who loved to wear her crown, sat at the opposite end of the long table on an ornate chair. Between them sat emissaries and ambassadors from other solar systems, each one present to petition the Czar for a favor. 

The Czar, who stood six and a half feet tall and weighed as much as an adult gorilla, was used to getting his way. He tried to show compassion in front of his dinner guests by saying, “Your husband will be all right, Mrs. Kalihar,” the Czar said. “Only two more years. He gets meals.”

“Yes, your Excellency,” she said with a pleasant smile while she seethed within. Her husband, a soldier with the Czar’s army, had angered the Czar by suggesting a novel battle plan. The Czar had sentenced him to the dungeon for five years. She knew that his meals consisted of moldy bread and fly-filled water. She was permitted to visit him once every six months. Each day her hatred toward the Czar increased, and she was afraid the dam would burst and the hatred would be in the open.

The Czar bit into Mira’s latest gourmet concoction, the Starbloom Pie. With all eyes on him, the Czar plunged his fork into the pie, lifted the bite to his lips, tasted it, chewed it, and swallowed it. He looked around the room and summoned an aide to his side. “This is mediocre,” he said, and he glanced at Mira. “This pie is terrible. It lacks an ingredient that we no longer have on this planet.”

“It tastes good to me,” the Empress said. 

The Czar threw his fork at her and struck her neck. The fork glanced off her and fell to the floor. “I’m sorry, my dearest,” said the Czar. “I meant to strike one of your eyes.”

“You’re nothing but syrup and honey,” said the Empress. “That’s the first time you’ve hit me with anything in two weeks, a record.”

“Does anyone else have any comments?” the Czar asked as the Empress picked up the fork and placed it on the table by her plate.

Silence.

Nobody dared to interrupt the Czar.

“Do you know what the missing ingredient is?” he thundered. “Mrs. Mira Kalihar?”

“S-sir, your honor, y-your Excellency,” she stammered. “I have heard of Ultra Nova Root.” She wanted to stay in his good graces, or both she and her husband would be lost.

“Exactly!” shouted the Czar. “That is the missing ingredient. My father used it in all his food here on Zytheron V. When I came to power, it was no more. Why? I govern this quarter of the galaxy, and I don’t have the best ingredient of all. Does that make any sense? Does it?” He glared at each person at the table. Each person shook their head.

“Mrs. Kalihar,” he said, “do you like to travel?” Though she hated to travel, she nodded. “Tonight you will travel. You will take the Express Ship to Sector Xandora, then to the planets with the ingredient.”

“But, your Excellency,” said an aide who stood by in a stiff red and yellow uniform, “we can’t spare that ship. The senators want to use it to explore Elara for new minerals.”

The Czar stood and grabbed the man by the front of his uniform. He spit in the man’s face as he said, “I run this planet. I run this quadrant. What I say is the final word! The senators can take rowboats across the great expanse, for all I care! I want the Ultra Nova Root!” He slapped the man’s cheeks and pushed him back. The man tripped over a chair and fell on the floor. “Get up, you miserable piece of protoplasm!” He lifted the man by the back of his shirt and slammed him against a wall, where he slipped down, unconscious. “Drag him out of here,” the Czar told two underlings, “and let him clean the stables for the next month.” The Czar reminded them that he had impaled 1500 people, men and women, for questioning his authority.

Mira packed her bags and embarked on the Express Ship. Three aides joined her, besides the pilot, a laboratory assistant, and three medics. In an hour they were two light-years away from Zytheron V. She knew that the Ultra Nova root had become difficult to find in a galaxy under rapid development, where rare plants were destroyed with no concern about the ecosystem.

Based on her information, her mission was to check three planets, each rumored to grow plants with Ultra Nova. The first was Krelvarr IX, which was mostly frozen tundra where the ground was covered in diamond-like ice, and the mountains emitted musical frequencies connected to the elements. The second was Xanarax, a desert planet with swirling sand dunes of metallic dust that shifted hues and tones with its seven seasons. The third was Elytheray, known for field upon field of flowers that glowed beneath the light of its three moons.

After the Express Ship navigated through asteroid belts and cosmic storms, it arrived at Krelvarr IX, where Mira directed the pilot to land in an area where a few plants poked above the tundra. She tested the atmosphere, which was suitable for humans. She dressed warmly, without a helmet, holstered a blaster, and took an aide with her. 

From a distance the mountain music soothed the soul. As they approached the base of the closest mountain, the volume of the music increased like a symphony where the brass and winds played loudly. For a moment, Mira wanted to spend days, if not weeks, on this planet so she could savor this music, which lifted her soul to the stars. Then she remembered her husband lingering in a dungeon with little hope, and she went forward.

They trudged for an hour over the ice before she found a plant that looked promising. She dug through the tundra to the plant’s roots, scooped up the plant and its roots, and placed it in her specimen bag. 

A cold wind blew ice crystals into her eyes. She took two more samples. As they journeyed to the Express ship when a white furry animal met them on the tundra. The animal was a cross between a dog, a fox, and a wolf. It raised up on its hind legs like a friendly dog. Mira’s aide reached out a gloved hand to pet the animal, and it bit off her hand. 

Mira shot the animal and called for help from the ship. The remaining aides came with medical gear and medicine. They treated the injured aide and carried her back to the Express on a stretcher as she moaned and screamed. When inside the ship, the injured woman shouted, “Where’s my hand. I want it reattached!”

Mira said, “We don’t have the resources to do that. We will put your hand on ice, and you’ll have surgery when we return home.”

“We should turn around and go back now.”

“If we return now,” Mira said, “the Czar will impale each one of us. We have to find the Ultra Nova root and return with it.”

“We might have it in your specimen bag.”

Mira ran laboratory tests. Neither the plant nor its roots contained the Ultra Nova root. She told the pilot to take off for the next planet on the list. They flew over Xanarax, and the sun dunes dazzled Mira with their shades of yellow, which meant it was the third season on Xanarax. They flew a thousand kilometers north, a thousand kilometers east, and found nothing. Clouds gathered in the sky. They flew a thousand kilometers southwest, and one of her aides pointed, “Look! Green!” The pilot landed the craft close to the spot of green, which looked like a plant. They ran atmosphere tests and determined that they had no need for helmets.

Mira disembarked as fast as she could and ran to the spot of green. Her aide ran behind her and spotted a bird. “Look, Mira!” she yelled. “A Frostpiercer!” 

Mira, almost to the spot of green, turned and said, “What is that?”

“Mira, it’s the rarest bird around the galaxy. It has a long beak, and it pokes through the frost for its food. I’ve never seen one before.”

“That’s wonderful. Now focus on your task and help me collect this specimen. It might be the Ultra Nova plant.” Her specimen bag in hand, she leaned over the plant.

To her right, and out of her sight, the aide said, “First, I’ll get a closer look and a picture. This is awesome!” 

Mira dug down beneath the tundra and found the roots of the plant. When she scooped the plant up, she heard a scream. She turned and saw her aide holding her face as she howled in pain. The bird was winging away to the south.

“What happened?” Mira asked.

“He drove his beak through my eye!” she wailed.

Mira called for the first aid crew to come out. Meanwhile, she deposited her plant and its roots into her specimen bag, which she carefully marked. The first aid crew stanched the bloodflow from the eye and dressed her aide’s wound, then carried her toward the Express Ship on a stretcher, with Mira following. 

Unfortunately, a flock of Frostpiercers flew down from the clouds. The birds poked holes in the stretcher and poked each person’s body, one in the chest, one in the leg, and one in the groin. A bird chased Mira over the tundra. She dropped the specimen bag and rolled on the tundra to avoid the bird’s long beak. It poked the back of her left leg and flew off. She returned to the ship. Her aide said, “I hope you found it. This is a rotten planet and I want to go home.” 

“I have to run a lab test,” Mira said. She ran the lab test, and, to her frustration, it was negative. Mira directed the pilot to take the Express Ship to Elytheray.

Hearing this, her injured aide said, “I signed up to assist in finding a specimen. I did not sign up to lose an eye.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” said Mira. “Maybe the next planet will have it, then we can head home.” She affected a cheerful demeanor while inside she had doubts about the mission. She was helping a tyrant who had imprisoned her husband on a pretext. Her aides had suffered severe injuries. But if she didn’t help the Czar by finding the Root, she would go to chains in a dungeon, too, or, knowing how impulsive he could be, the Czar could impale them both.

When they landed on Elytheray, they ran atmosphere tests and determined that they did not need helmets. Mira asked the third aide to accompany her. The aide came along reluctantly, for she had seen how the two other aides had suffered severe injuries.

“Just do what I tell you,” Mira said, “and you’ll be all right.” The aide nodded, yet within the hour she followed a green and yellow butterfly that exuded a sweet odor through the field of flowers, and she fell into a hole in the ground, breaking her leg.

Again Mira called for help from the medics. As the medics carried the aide back to the ship on a stretcher, Mira surveyed the tundra and saw something moving. There, half-covered in the snow and frost, sat a dog. A big one who looked like a Labrador Retriever, except its fur was white and it was larger than a Labrador. Its fur was thick and matted, and its eyes glistened in the cold twilight. It looked up at her, desperate, hoping. Without hesitation, Mira knelt and called it over. The dog limped forward, shivering, and Mira’s heart ached for the creature.

“Come on, boy,” she whispered. The dog limped beside her as she surveyed the flowers. She located a green and purple plant that smelled like cinnamon. She scooped up that specimen by the roots and took it back to the Ship. To her joy and relief, its characteristics were consistent with the Ultra Nova root.

The dog came with her onto the Ship. While the pilot objected, the three injured aides rejoiced. The dog licked them and cuddled with them the best he could on narrow bunks. The aides fed and groomed the dog. The pilot withdrew his objection, and, sensing the group’s fatigue, he flew the group to the biggest of the three moons of Elytheray, Aquamara, which was a water-covered planet with floating archipelagos, where the entire ecosystem lived above and beneath large crystalline waves. On that planet the group recuperated in spots similar to therapy pools on the Earth.

Several humanoids resided on this planet. Mira befriended one who looked like an old woman, and they joked and laughed about their adventures. This humanoid told Mira a secret about the Ultra Nova root.

Two days later, the injured aides told Mira that they intended to stay on the planet with the dog until they were healed. Mira agreed with them. She would have stayed with them, except she wanted to free her husband. For that, she must go back with the root in hand. She knew that, if she returned at all, she must return soon or she would feel the Czar’s wrath.

After two days they flew back to Zytheron V. Mira dashed to the royal court’s kitchen to cook a dinner for the Czar. She placed the Ultra Nova root in her dishes. She ladled out a spoonful for herself, her heart racing as she took the first bite. The flavors waltzed across her tongue—sweet and savory, unlike anything she had ever tasted. The Nova Root had transformed her dish into something extraordinary. Then she baked a special dish for the Czar alone. 

Evening came, and the Czar, the Empress, the ambassadors and the dignitaries, assembled for a dinner beneath the chandeliers and beside a microwax sculpture of the Czar. The Czar said, “Our trade missions are going better than expected. That pleases me. Now Mrs. Kalihar has returned from her mission with the ingredient I desire. We look forward to an unforgettable dinner.”

Mira said, “This meal offers flavors unique to the intergalactic palate. The first dish is Starfire Salad, a mix of bioluminescent algae, Nebulon fruit, and Moonpearl seeds, drizzled with a comet-dust vinaigrette and a trace of Ultra Nova. The greens glow softly, creating a celestial visual feast.”

The Czar ate first, and his eyes lit up. “Yes!” he said. “This has the root in it, with rich flavor.” He patted his gigantic stomach. “My father loved it!” Everyone else ate and gave appreciative comments.

The next dish was thin slices of Corsair Crust Crostini bread topped with molten Glimmerstone cheese and a trace of Ultra Nova, served with slices of Andromedan truffle and flecks of Drystan pepper, which added a smoky flavor.

The third dish was Norbolino Soup, a red broth made from North nucleic nectar and molten asteroid minerals.

Mira’s fourth dish was the Covalent Beast Roast, a tender cut from a Mergolox, found in herds that roam Veloris Prime, roasted over a fire fueled by volcanic crystals, paired with a sauce extracted from the core of Ixian magma shrubs, served with asteroid-roasted GravGox potatoes.

Mira said, “My fifth and last dish is Quantum Fruit Constellation, a dessert of exotic Quantum fruits, each from different galactic systems, arranged in the shape of a constellation and suspended in a levitated syrup made from the juice of Kaelion meteor vines, with a side of frosted Nebula cream. As always, I have added Ultra Nova root. Try it, your Excellency.”

The Czar plunged into the food and ate a huge mouthful of the Quantum Fruits. Suddenly he stopped chewing. “Water!” he cried. Mira poured water for him and he chugged it down, along with his mouthful of Quantum Fruits. “Can’t breathe!” he mumbled. His face turned red, then purple. His nose bled, and blood dribbled from his ears. His eyes glowed red and became glazed. He heaved his bulk off the throne, and staggered toward the Empress, choked, and fell at her feet. 

The Empress checked his vital signs. “He’s dead,” she said. She looked at Mira.

Mira said, “I’m so sorry. The thermometer must be inaccurate in the kitchen. I was warned that if you cooked the Ultra Nova root at higher than 177 degrees Celsius, this would be the adverse reaction. I’m sorry.” She wiped a tear from eye, for she remembered her husband in prison.

The Empress stood. “Don’t be sorry,” she said. She stood on a chair. “I’m in charge now. People, we are free from my late husband’s tyranny. Steward, drag away this man’s loathsome body, and after you’ve done that, let this woman’s husband go free from the dungeon. You have no idea what my marriage was like.” She rolled up her sleeves and exposed a bruises on her arms. Two appeared to be cigarette burns. She gave them graphic accounts of his behavior. “Today, we are free. Now, we must celebrate, and we thank Mira. Mira, nothing is wrong with the thermometer. You did the right thing.”

“Hurrah for Mira!” shouted the crowd.

The steward brought in Mira’s husband, whose sudden freedom had bewildered him. The husband and wife hugged each other. They were together again.