“The point is that my father is an arrogant, ostentatious show-off who likes to impress people by building ridiculous monuments like this room, which, as you point out, is a big waste of space,” the Prince said as he swept into the room from the same doorway through which we had entered. “Of course, it does make an impression, does it not? Are you intimidated?”  

     “No. Are you insane?” Jack shot back.  

     “You know, I won’t be terribly upset if none of you survive this little mission. I might even be a bit pleased were you to die,” the Prince said, looking directly at Jack. 

     “What is all this talk of dying?” Mr. Fisher asked. “Perhaps you could explain what it is you want from us. All of this is very unsettling.”  

     “You are a bit of a strange one, aren’t you,” said the Prince with unexpected insight. “But, yes, I will be happy to explain exactly what it is I need from you and what will enable your friend here to free his parents.”  

     He sat down at the enormous table. “You see, we are in the midst of a bit of a hundred-year war right now. It has been going on for some time . . .”  

“Like a hundred years,” quipped Jack.  

     “Hmm. Actually longer than that, but the name has stuck regardless. Now do you mind keeping quiet while I finish?” the Prince responded.  

     “As I was saying, while I firmly believe we will win in the end, the fighting has reached a stalemate of sorts. My people, the Ashtapada, have almost impenetrable planetary defenses, but so do our enemies, the Chatrang. We have some devastating war ships that can travel light years in an instant, but so do they. We have poison detectors, scanners, force fields, immensely powerful lasers, you name it, really. I mean, we have armaments that could destroy your pathetic little planet Earth in the time it takes my favorite footrest here to find whatever it is he is seeking up his nose at the moment.” 

     J.P. wiped his hand on his shirt and said something intelligent like, “Huh?”  

     “Still,” the Prince continued, “while you pathetic Earth people have none of things I’ve described, the Chatrang have them all. Anytime we attack them, they respond, almost instantly, and we end up making little or no progress, just as the Chatrang fail when they attack us and we respond in kind. My father seems quite content with this situation and spends his days building new war ships and designing new weapons that he hopes will finally break the stalemate. Of course, the Chatrang King does the same thing, so there you have it. No one can really surprise the other or gain the upper hand for more than a short time.”  

     “Why not?” I asked. "I mean there must be battles where one side has better equipment or better fighters or smarter tactics, or is just plain lucky.”

     “Certainly, but both sides are able to immediately send reinforcements based upon whatever the battle requires. We are able to defend the planets of the Ashtapada empire quite effectively,” the Prince said. 

     “Wait,” said Brian. “Planets? How many are there? Does each one have its own army? 

     “No, just one main military armada, with smaller defensive contingents around each planet.”

     “How do you know when an attack occurs? Can you send inter-planetary emails or texts or is it like the way you fold space or something to move people across distances?” Brian asked. 

     “You are getting closer to the reason you are here,” said the Prince. “What if I told you that, yes, we can send almost anything many light years away, but that to do so takes time and preparation and the size of the thing being sent greatly affects the amount of time it takes to make those preparations?”

      “I still don’t understand how are you able to respond to attacks so quickly?” I said. “I don’t understand any of this. Just tell me what you want.” I was definetely approaching panic mode.      The Prince just smiled and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small stone. At first it appeared to be completely black, like onyx, but as we stared at it, small lights slowly began to dance across its surface. 

      “This little stone,” he said, “is among the most valuable items in the universe. It's called an HTS and it allows for hypertime communications across any distance, at least any distance we've tried so far. They are very rare and before you even ask, neither I nor anyone else knows how they work. Believe me, we've tried. Regardless, I assure you, they do work. HTS are what enable our ships to respond immediately, or sooner, to any attack. Sadly, the Chatrang also possess . . .”

     The Prince stopped mid-sentence to look at the black stone on the table. The specks of light were now dancing wildly across the surface, growing brighter as they became more frenetic. The Prince wrapped his hand around the stone and stared up at the ceiling. After a few moments, he smiled, walked over to Brian, and whispered in his ear. Before any of us could ask what was going on, the Prince started speaking again. 

      “As I was saying, the Chatrang also use the hypertime attributes of the HTS to thwart our attacks. I have decided to alter this balance and you are going to help me.”

      Looking right at me, he said, “You are going to steal a Chatrang HTS.”