Treason

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Treason Page 4

by Kevin McLaughlin


  “But you can’t shake the fact that there were a good number of them who tried to murder us and kill the rest of the human race?” I could understand his skepticism. It was more than warranted at this point.

  “Precisely. ‘Trust but verify’ is the phrase you use, isn’t it?”

  “It is, sir. You know I support your decision. If you want me to go put the fear of God into them, you just say the word. It’s been a while since I cracked a few heads in the name of good manners.”

  Ka’thak grinned and paused for a moment before clapping his hands together. “I have a better idea. I want to hold a feast tonight for the engineering team. Something that will make them feel welcome and show that we are happy to prepare them in the best way we know how for the long journey ahead. I’ll instruct the cooks to start preparing for the meal now and we can hold it later this evening. Would you mind extending the innovation to the group personally? I’m sure they’re intimidated enough by their new surroundings. It will probably be more comfortable for them to hear the invitation from one of their own.”

  I doubted that it would, but I agreed and set about tracking down the teams. A bunch of humans and aliens at the same dinner table? This would be good. I needed to grab a camera before the event started. Something awesome was certain to go down.

  7

  Alexandra

  I told myself it was stupid to leave my laptop at the office. I wasn’t one to usually leave a piece of equipment behind, but the President’s call to fly into orbit came at a stressful time. This was what I got for denying myself the time to rest and refresh my brain. Ka’thak wasn’t wrong, I could easily work remotely…if I had anything to work with. I had a tablet and a phone but they were both lacking in what I needed to actually get things done in a timely matter. I don’t know why I thought so but I had hoped that there would be a technological care package for me aboard the engineers’ shuttle. I decided to go check it out and hope that one of the men had brought his PC with him.

  When I arrived back at the shuttle bay I saw that the shuttle had been completely secured. That was strange, especially considering that they were operating on allied territory. I chalked it up to habit. They must have been new recruits trying to follow the rules. I cupped my hands to my mouth and shouted.

  “Hey! Anybody in there?”

  Two pilots popped up from underneath the bulkhead like meerkats. They looked at each other confused for a moment and then one of them pressed an intercom on the control panel.

  “And who are you?”

  “I’m Dr. King. I’m the social worker heading up the ship passenger list with President Wright? I’d really appreciate it if you could open up for me, I need to grab some equipment.”

  The pilot speaking to me looked at her companion and shook her head.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. King, but I’m not allowed to permit civilians aboard this shuttle. You’ll have to find your equipment elsewhere.”

  I rolled my eyes but forced a friendly smile. “I’m afraid there isn’t anything up here that I can use. If you’ve seen the aliens’ writing you’ll know how tough the stuff is to read, never mine to type in.”

  “I’m sure you can ask one of your alien friends to get you something in English, Dr. King. My colleague and I have work to do.”

  “Seriously? Fine.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and held it over my head so they could see it clearly. “Look. I really hate pulling rank on you military types, but it seems to be the only language you actually speak. Open the damn shuttle or you can tell the President to his face why you’re denying access to one of his closest advisors.”

  The woman in the cockpit stared hard at me but her comrade threw up his hands and tapped the console inside the shuttle. I heard the hiss of hydraulics and smiled. Nothing like being able to break out the direct line to the President. Considering that I wouldn’t be holding this privilege for much longer, I really should use it more often.

  The interior of the shuttle itself was spartan, as I expected. Ounces counted in space travel, that much I remembered from elementary school. I could understand why they would outfit the ship with the essentials and nothing more. The cabin of the shuttle was just rows of metal seating and industrial size crates strapped to the wall. No bells and whistles. I was tempted to go and peek into one but before I could make it to one of the boxes my path was blocked by the pilot who had been so loath to let me aboard her ship.

  “How can I help you, Dr. King?” she asked. Her tone made it plain that she didn’t appreciate the intrusion but I sensed a little grudging respect. Good enough. I ignored the urge to chuff at her, alien style, and settled for extending my hand.

  “Thank you for opening up for me, pilot…”

  “Ensign Banks, ma’am,” the woman said, taking my hand briefly and dropping it as quickly as she could. “What do you need? We have a lot of work to do.”

  “Oh, yes! Of course. I just need a computer. A simple laptop will do. I can remote into my desktop Earthside easily enough. There are tasks that the President requires me to finish in a timely manner and it seems that I am here for a little while.”

  “Why not just catch a ride back to Earth?” The other pilot called from the cockpit. Ensign Banks crossed her arms and looked at me cooly.

  “Not that I have to explain it to you, but I’m acting as the principal democratic liaison to the aliens. If you had been properly briefed—“

  “We were,” Banks broke in.

  “Then if you had paid attention in the briefing, you’d know that these people value in-person communication and negotiation more than they do a phone call,” I clarified in my sweetest voice. “Now. A computer?”

  “Lady, just take what you need and get the hell off my ship,” Ensign Banks snapped.

  “Fantastic.” I smirked. “Where are you keeping the machines that were issued to the engineering team? In one of these crates?” I unbuckled one from the wall but before I could open it the other pilot had thrust a large tablet and wireless keyboard into my hands.

  “Here,” he said. “Take mine. It’s my personal tablet but I can wipe the data off of it quickly enough for you. If you would be so kind to just expense it to the President so I can purchase a new one, I’d really appreciate it. No rush, though. I understand that you’re doing very important work up here. Will that be good enough?”

  I turned the tablet over in my hands. It wasn’t exactly a laptop, which I would have vastly preferred, but it was specced out enough to get my work done. I turned it back over to the pilot and instructed him to clear his personal data. While I waited, I took a leisurely stroll around the shuttle’s cabin. My ride from the Earth’s surface was spent with my eyes shut for most of it so I had never really gotten a good look at how the shuttles were laid out. I toyed with the heavy seatbelts and remembered trying not to whimper as I was strapped in for my journey. On the wall behind the seats hung supplementary oxygen masks. That made sense. We had the same equipment on airplanes. I could only imagine how catastrophic a mid-flight depressurization would be in space. There was a first-aid kit on the wall as well, and under it a container filed with airsickness bags. I was well familiar with these, having needed one myself after launch.

  The crates the craft carried were larger than I expected to be aboard a ship like this. It was easy to tell from the way they were set up that they were carrying heavy cargo. I figured it must be tools or parts so that the engineering teams could rehearse some of the tasks they would be responsible for on the human ship. I noticed Ensign Banks starting to shift her weight back and forth out of the corner of my eye whenever I got too close to them and wanted to roll my eyes at her. I know that I wasn’t one of the military types but come on, I wasn’t about to break a wrench just by touching it. The poor girl looked like she wanted to leap in between me and the containers, lest I knock a washer out of place. In some ways, I longed for the soldiers to accept me as well as the aliens had. During times like this it was more tempting to separate myself from th
em as much as possible. I knew that the path to success lay somewhere in between trying to befriend them and threatening to call the President every time one of them got out of line.

  Finally, the other pilot came back to the cabin and handed me his tablet again. I saw the familiar welcome screen and thanked him for getting it ready for me so quickly. He handed me a card with his information written on it so that I could get it back to him or send payment for a new one. With no further excuses for my presence, I allowed the two pilots to escort me from the shuttle. I could have sworn they slammed the door behind me.

  I walked through the ship until I found an area where I could work quietly. The one I found was particularly nice with a big view of the Earth through the window and a wedge-shaped seat that was very comfortable. I opened the tablet and connected the keyboard. Establishing an internet connection was easy enough. I cringed at the torrent of notifications that spilled out when I logged into my desktop remotely. Window after window of missed forwarded calls, texts, and e-mails popped up and I set the tablet down to wait for the deluge to stop. It finally did, the tablet itself getting warm from the amount of work I had asked it to do. I went to the mess to secure myself a large cup of coffee and sat down to work.

  8

  Jackson

  I finished getting the details of their location from the first maintenance team and quickened my step. It sounded like everything was going as expected, even if my alien comrades were a little annoyed at teaching clueless humans. They couldn’t say I hadn’t warned them. Before the engineering team’s arrival, I held a meeting with the pertinent people to answer any questions they had about human interaction and how advanced the knowledge of the human engineers would be. The short answer that covered it all was that humans thought more slowly than they did and wouldn’t be familiar with half the ship’s technology yet. The aliens weren’t thrilled with that answer. I got more than my share of disbelieving looks when I had finished my explanation. Where was Alex when I needed her? She would have been able to smooth this over far better than I could.

  I shouldn’t have been feeling so excited about it, but I was really looking forward to spending some time with humans. As Ka’thak said, I was fully accepted within alien society but there were varying levels of that acceptance. There were still a few aliens who were suspicious of me. Understandably so. They had been betrayed more than enough. Still, the nasty looks and clipped comments stung. To top it off, it was difficult to find an alien that I didn’t have to explain most of my jokes to. Getting to kick back with some military folks would be just what I needed before committing myself to alien life for the rest of my days. Considering their earlier discomfort and brusqueness I was at least guaranteed some serious entertainment at the feast. It would be a fun time either way.

  The team I was heading toward was scheduled to be working in the engine room. Not the worst place to start, considering that observing the engine status would be the primary job of an engineering team on the human ship. Maybe I could get our guys to run some simulations later and give the eggheads a run for their money while we trained them up for emergency situations. I wondered how things were going with Alex. I hadn’t seen her in the last couple of hours and made a mental note to check-in. That woman had a bad habit of forgetting to eat or sleep and I wanted to make sure that she wasn’t passed out in a corner somewhere from exhaustion. With her luck she was probably playing the clapping game with some alien kids or discussing the philosophy of religion with one of the aliens. If so, good. She deserved a break.

  As I turned down the passageway that led to the engine room I noticed something glinting from behind a terminal. I bent down and pulled. Whatever it was, it was wedged in there deep. I placed a boot against the wall and yanked. The object flew free, nearly hitting me in the face. At first glance, it looked like a metal water bottle, but on further inspection it appeared to be a small oxygen tank. Definitely not alien made. Emergency air in case of depressurization? If it was something that important I doubted any human would let it out of their sight, never mind dropping it behind a piece of machinery. If it was oxygen, it’s a damn good thing I found it. If it was punctured and exploded to any kind of spark, it was a bomb waiting to go off. I fiddled with the top of it and couldn’t see how it opened. Definitely not an oxygen tank, then. My mind raced through the other types of gas that would be kept in a canister like this, human or alien, but I couldn’t come up with anything.

  A strange canister that appeared right after a group of military-type engineers show up on my ship? Yeah, something wasn’t right here. I stashed the canister under my arm and quickened my pace. I wanted answers, and I was suddenly finding it difficult to raise the human teams on my radio. Before long I came across another one of the canisters, this one glinting out from behind an air vent several feet above me. I set my equipment down and shined a flashlight at it. It was the same size as the first one. Definitely not there by accident. The grate had been bashed around like someone had pried it open by hand. I glanced around, wondering how the hell a human could have made it up there by himself. My mind flashed back to the biceps on some of those guys. A strong human, given enough time, could potentially hook his fingers up there and open the grate. Unfortunately, I was about to have to do it myself.

  It took a lot of sweat and swearing, and I think I permanently bent the grate, but I eventually knocked the canister to the floor. Thank the gods it didn’t burst open. Given that these were hidden I was really not in a hurry to find out what was in them. Now I knew what had been in the bags the men brought aboard. I abandoned my task of finding the teams. Screw the feast. There was something very, very wrong. I pulled my tablet out and raised Ka’thak on the radio, but no luck. Something or someone was interfering with the ship’s communications systems. It was time to run.

  I found Ka’thak at his station consulting with the ship’s cooks. A couple of them nodded greetings to me and I raised a hand back. “Ah, Jackson, just the man I was hoping to see. How did it go? Can we expect a full attendance at the feast this evening?”

  “Perhaps not,” I said. I reached into my bag and pulled out one of the canisters.

  “Dare I ask what that is?” Ka’thak inquired, his eyes narrowing.

  “If I knew, sir, I’d tell you. I found the first one behind a terminal in a hallway. The second one was sitting hidden in an air vent. I initially thought that they were oxygen canisters, you know, emergency air in case of depressurization on the ship. I can tell you though that these aren’t meant to open easily. I’d guess that there is something else in these, and given that I found them hidden, I’m not sure that it is something good.” I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it was difficult. If I told Ka’thak that I thought the humans had sinister intentions, I was almost certainly sentencing them to death. There wasn’t any room for mercy or negotiations at this point for the aliens. Certainly not this close to departing from Earth’s orbit. I could start another war with a couple of words.

  “Still with me, Jackson?” Ka’thak’s words jerked me out of my thoughts.

  “I’ll look into it, sir,” I replied, distractedly. “Don’t sound the alarms just yet. Better not to make any assumptions. I’ll report back to you as soon as I know more.” Before he could reply to me I turned and headed out. I patted my sidearm, reassuring myself that it was still there, fully loaded. I tucked the gun into my holster and set off after the maintenance teams. Someone better be prepared to give me answers, and quickly.

  9

  Alexandra

  I pinched the bridge of my nose as I went over the changes to the passenger list that had been made since I left the Earth’s surface. This was a losing battle and I was getting ready to throw my hands in the air and call it a day. It was like fighting the tide. You might swim as hard as you could, but the ocean would pull you wherever it wanted. I took a deep breath and looked at the manifest again. Perhaps if I stared at it long enough the information would shift in front of my eyes into something pref
erable. Alas, no luck.

  When I first saw the changes, I thought someone had made an error. Something like three-quarters of the names I had put forth were crossed out and new ones written in. Damn it, I thought we had finally been on the same page about this. I should have known that Wright would pull some crap while I was away. I was about to write to the ground team confirming that there was a mistake when I heard a noise. I looked up to see an adolescent alien at the door, a tablet in his hands. He coughed quietly.

  “My apologies, Doctor. I’ll find somewhere else,” he said, dipping his head.

  I gestured wide to the plush lounge where I had set myself up to work. “Plenty of room in here. Please, you are more than welcome.” The alien smiled and sat across from me. He powered on the tablet he held and began to read. Not wanting to bother him with conversation, I returned my attention to my work. I appreciated that the aliens seemed to enjoy company in silence just as much as with conversation. Wright had shifted from a small push to bring soldiers aboard to a firm insistence. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  My suggestion to bring more specialized personnel was being considered, but not in the way I would have liked. There were plenty of nurses and doctors to be found, but engineers, scientists, and physicists were more rare. Humanitarians were nowhere to be found. The thought of including an artist on the roster was laughable to Wright and those advising him. The passengers that were still in the employ of the United States government were, quite frankly, old. Understandable, given that diversification for specialists in that line of work didn’t typically lend themselves to a life in the private sector, but not good enough for taking the spot of a younger person aboard. I spied a few former NASA members and chuckled to myself. I wondered what the old-timers thought of all this. Wright had seemingly refused to look anywhere outside of the government ranks. Government is as government does.

 

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