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Talus

Page 28

by S. H. Jucha


  The Boobaffle stared through her braided tendrils at the Kirmler, who was studying his wickedly sharp nails. She was belatedly realizing the extent to which the Kirmler would advance his insidious schemes.

  “As to your second task,” the Kirmler continued, “you’ll need to visit the three envoys who recently abandoned the talks. They can help your five ships complete a decent wedge.”

  The Kirmler rose and casually flexed his hands, which displayed his dark talons. “I hope I’ve made myself clear,” he asked.

  “Perfectly,” the Boobaffle replied. “I’ll have a crew member show you to your shuttle.”

  31: Quandary

  After the Kirmler had boarded his shuttle to return to his ship, the Boobaffle envoy sat for nearly two hours contemplating the scheme that she’d been coaxed into accepting. It was clear to her that her career was finished. She’d traded legitimate participation in the negotiations for the Kirmler’s scheme. What remained was how to save her ship — and herself.

  The thought occurred to her to order the captain to fire the engines and exit the system as swiftly as possible. However, the fates of those who had followed her, the other four envoys in the cluster, concerned her. If she didn’t warn them, they could be dragged into the Kirmler’s plot and be destroyed by the combined forces that ringed the planet or the admiral’s weapons.

  At a tap-tap on the cabin door, the envoy called out, “Enter.”

  The captain stepped into her quarters. He was followed by the envoy’s steward, who set a tray on the center table. With a flick of his fingers, the captain sent the steward from the room.

  “Thank you for the consideration,” the envoy said, “but I’m not hungry.”

  “You’ve missed meal time,” the captain. “I suggest you eat. You’ll need your strength for our conversation.”

  The envoy eyed the captain, whose tone bordered on impertinence.

  “I don’t believe I’ve asked for your opinion,” the envoy returned icily.

  “You haven’t, Envoy, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to hear it,” the captain retorted.

  “I’ll remind you, Captain, I lead this ship,” the envoy said, sitting upright. “Don’t forget your station.”

  The captain knew he was putting his career on the line. After this meeting, he’d probably be demoted to commanding a freighter. But he had no intention of backing down.

  “I’m aware of my station, Envoy. Do you remember mine?” the captain asked. “You direct this ship, but I fight it. Perhaps that doesn’t concern you. There’s certainly a remote possibility that if I lose the ship, you’ll survive and have an alternate way home.”

  The envoy wanted to rise and storm at the captain, to put him in his place, but she hadn’t the energy.

  The captain picked up a cup from the tray and handed it to the envoy. She accepted it and sucked on the sweet juice. Then he took a seat across from her. He was unaware that he sat in the same place the Kirmler had occupied.

  “There’s much that you haven’t told me,” the captain said. “Under most circumstances, it isn’t my place to know. However, the Kirmler’s visit tells me that we’ve passed that point in time. Why was he here?”

  “The Kirmler came to remind me of his intrigue, although he admitted that he’s never told me the entire truth,” the envoy replied.

  “Why did you trust him?” the captain asked. He did his best to keep his emotions under control. The envoy was the progeny of a prominent Boobaffle leader. She was too young to be given this important task, and it appeared that the Kirmler had taken advantage of her lack of experience.

  “My patriarch told me what he expected me to bring home,” the envoy replied. “The Kirmler approached me, asked about my goals, and indicated mine and his were similar. I thought that would give us leverage with the body. As time progressed, it seemed as if my goals might be reached. Then the Omnians appeared, and quickly, all was lost.”

  “You took a risk for your patriarch. This is understood,” the captain soothed. He felt as if he was speaking to his own progeny. “If you believe our opportunity is lost, why are we still here?”

  “The Kirmler’s plan is to convince the president to give into our demands by threatening to launch at the planet,” the envoy stated sadly.

  The captain’s long tendrils swept around his chest as he shook his head in perplexity. He fought to form his next words carefully. The last thing he wanted to do was castigate the young envoy for her stupidity.

  “Tell me the details of the Kirmler’s plan,” the captain asked gently.

  The envoy examined the captain’s earnest, lined face. He possessed more than twice her annuals. She told him her story, beginning with the communications among the three clusters in the envoys’ hall. Soon, she was pouring out the details to him, leaving little out. When she finished, she waited for the harangue she felt she deserved, but the captain sat quietly thinking.

  “We can be sure the Kirmler isn’t telling you the truth,” the captain said, after many minutes had passed. “Our first priority is to protect this ship. Our second equally important priority is to ensure that the others who followed you aren’t drawn into the Kirmler’s plotting.”

  “There are the three envoys who left after me,” the envoy reminded the captain. She was soothed by his calm guidance. It was in complete opposition to the Kirmler’s oppressive style, who’d sat there hours ago.

  “If there’s an opportunity to warn them, we should, but you must understand what’s at risk for the four who followed you,” the captain replied.

  “Why do you say it that way?” the envoy asked.

  “Suppose we survive this debacle, and one or more of those envoys don’t,” the captain proposed. “What do you think will happen between our races if it’s brought into the light?”

  By the look on the envoy’s young face, the captain realized that she hadn’t considered the ramifications of her actions. “It’ll mean reparations, Envoy,” he explained, “and they could be extensive. You won’t have caused the loss of a lowly freighter with goods but few crew members. You’ll be responsible for the loss of a battleship with thousands of crew members. As important as those might be, the leaders of that race will want to extract a measure of compensation for the loss of their envoy and captain. Those two alone might be equal to what’s demanded for the ship and crew.”

  “And there could be four losses,” the envoy forlornly replied. She wanted to crawl to her bed, curl on it, and lay there until they reached home. She’d been thrilled to receive the opportunity to be an envoy, despite knowing she wasn’t sufficiently prepared. Her patriarch had filled her with confidence and enthusiasm, and she’d fed on it like a whelp at her matriarch’s breast.

  “Envoy, it’s time to embrace the responsibilities of your post,” the captain encouraged. “Let’s work together to salvage what we can. If we reach home, we can throw the Kirmler to our leaders. They’ll be happy to focus their anger on him.”

  “I’d like to see that happen,” the envoy replied.

  “Let’s start with the Kirmler’s visit,” the captain said. “He came here for a reason. What did he ask you to do?”

  “He said that I needed to tell the four in my cluster the realities of his plan, and they should be prepared to form a wedge with me,” the envoy explained.

  “I assume we’re to be the lead ship?” the captain inquired. When the envoy nodded, he asked, “Is that all?”

  “No, he told me that five ships make a poor wedge, and that I should recruit the three latest envoys to leave the hall,” the envoy continued.

  “Via comms?” the captain queried.

  “No, the Kirmler believes the Omnians are monitoring communications. I’m supposed to take a shuttle and visit each of the seven ships,” the envoy said. The more she spoke, the more foolish she sounded, and she wondered how she had been so gullible as to be led down this path.

  “And when you’ve formed the wedge, where are we supposed to lead it
?” the captain asked.

  “Over the polar region,” the envoy supplied. “If our demands aren’t accepted, and the Kirmler orders us to launch, our wedge is to take out Artifice.”

  The captain chuckled, and he shook his head in amazement, swinging his tendrils to and fro.

  “What?” the envoy asked.

  “Naturally, the Kirmler would assign you the most potentially devastating task,” the captain replied.

  “How’s that?” the envoy asked. “We’d be over the polar region. The opportunity for other ships to interdict us in time would be minimal.”

  “Envoy, who protects Artifice?” the captain asked.

  “Talusians,” the envoy readily replied.

  “Which Talusians?” the captain pressed.

  “The sisters ... oh, the tech would be lost to us,” the envoy gulped in reply.

  “If that was all that was lost to us, we’d be fortunate,” the captain replied. “What if the sisters have a mind to seek revenge on our race for violating their mantle of protection? Hurting us would send a strong message to every other federacy race not to aggravate them.”

  “I hadn’t realized the sisters were so aggressive,” the envoy replied.

  “Who knows what SADEs think?” the captain replied. “The Kirmler surely doesn’t, which is why he assigned Artifice’s destruction to you.”

  “So, Captain, what do we do?” the envoy asked. She felt like she’d been thrown a lifeline, and she clung desperately to it.

  “The first thing to do is not to let the Kirmler know we plan to disrupt his ugly scheme,” the captain replied. “That means you must keep up appearances.”

  “Visit the seven ships,” the envoy supplied.

  “Yes,” the captain agreed.

  “What do I tell them?” the envoy asked.

  “Why don’t you eat, while I think on that?” the captain offered. He was pleased to see the envoy’s appetite return, as she slid into a seat at the table, uncovered the dishes, and inhaled deeply of the aromas.

  As the young envoy consumed her meal, the captain considered their options. Every plan he devised had significant negatives. In some ways, the plans ending with the destruction of his ship had the advantages of ending their worries. The majority of the other ideas ended with the envoy and him facing drastic repercussions at home.

  A belch brought the captain’s head up, and he gazed at the envoy, who’d swiftly devoured her food.

  “You can’t find a way out, can you?” the envoy asked.

  “Not a good one,” the captain replied.

  “We won’t, as long as we’re on the defensive,” the envoy said. It was something her patriarch had hammered into her since she was old enough to think.

  “We’re only one ship,” the captain objected.

  “I wasn’t thinking of warfare,” the envoy replied, her laughter burbling out of her. “There are other ways to go on the offensive.”

  The captain stared at the envoy, while his mind sorted through the system’s assets. He discarded any short-term alliance with other battleships. The envoys were incapable of quick, strategic decisions. “The admiral,” he suddenly said.

  Rather than laugh at the captain’s suggestion, the envoy swept her tendrils aside and squinted her lavender eyes at him. “That’s an odd suggestion,” she said. “How would that work?”

  “I’m not sure we have to have all the answers,” the captain replied, furiously thinking through the possible scenarios. “The admiral would help us with those. The essence of my idea is that we keep the Kirmler thinking we’re cooperating, while we let the admiral in on his plan.”

  “I’ve got to be aboard the shuttle soon,” the envoy said. “Although, I don’t know how the Kirmler would know if I wasn’t visiting these seven ships.”

  “Just because the Kirmler doesn’t want to initiate communications within his cabal doesn’t mean that other envoys wouldn’t contact him for confirmation of your message,” the captain warned.

  “This still doesn’t help me,” the envoy complained. “I don’t know what to tell them.”

  An hour later, the envoy was on her way to the first of her cluster. The captain had been clever. He’d devised a series of questions for her to ask. Their answers would tell her what to say to them.

  Actually, the Boobaffle’s job was easier than she thought. The envoys within her cluster welcomed her aboard their ships. Then they questioned her about recent developments, and she explained the Kirmler’s plan.

  The envoys’ reactions varied from stunned to outrage. They were willing to participate in a bluff, but they had no intention of launching missiles at the planet.

  Every envoy expressed to the Boobaffle that they intended to order their captains to fire engines and exit the system. It was all the Boobaffle could do to convince them to listen to the captain’s and her plan. Her conversation often sounded this way.

  “If you exit the system, you might put the rest of us in danger,” the Boobaffle would say.

  “We could exit the system together,” the envoy often suggested.

  “To what value?” the Boobaffle replied. “We’d slink home and explain to our leaders that we not only failed to accomplish our tasks, but we were nearly seduced by a Kirmler into offending the Talusians to the extent that they might have used the Omnian tech against our races.”

  “That latter part needn’t be discussed,” an envoy would reply.

  “I said something similar to my captain, who has twice my annuals of experience,” the Boobaffle replied. “He said that, more than likely, the truth would eventually come to light, and we would suffer greater consequences for concealing it from our leaders.”

  “Do you have a better idea?” an envoy inquired.

  This was when the Boobaffle knew that she had a chance of convincing the envoy to follow her lead. “We intend to request the aid of the Omnian admiral,” she would say, which engendered some form of open mouth or other expression of consternation. This included one envoy, whose head had bobbed for several minutes.

  During these discussions, it occurred to the Boobaffle that there had been a fatal flaw in the organization of her cluster. It comprised young envoys, who had gravitated toward her. They’d sought the familiarity of youth.

  Another thought occurred to the Boobaffle, and it was in response to the captain’s analysis of the Kirmler. She now understood that she’d been used, dangled like bait. Many within the Kirmler envoy’s cluster were elderly, experienced individuals.

  However, the Kirmler needed greater numbers on his side. He’d found a likely believer in his conversations with her, and he set about recruiting her. She could attract younger envoys, which would make it appear that the Kirmler led a broader coalition.

  As the Boobaffle spoke to her cluster, she came to realize that much of what she’d believed, while under the thrall of the Kirmler, had been so much thin cloth, with no real substance. She was angered by her stupidity, but that emotion had the advantage of making her arguments to the cluster’s envoys that much more persuasive.

  “Have you contacted the admiral?” an envoy would ask, after the initial shock had worn off. Most had envisioned their ship dead in space and burning like Commander Zoza’s vessel.

  “Not yet,” the Boobaffle replied. “I’ve left that to my captain. He stated that it must be done carefully. An open broadcast could be intercepted and communicated to the Kirmler.”

  The Boobaffle was often told she was playing a dangerous game.

  “Allow me time to prove to you that the course I’m offering you is the safer one, and it might prove to have advantages,” the Boobaffle said.

  “What advantages?” the Boobaffle was always asked. “Think on this,” she would say. “What if the admiral is grateful to us for revealing the Kirmler’s plan? We’ll lose nothing by helping her with the arbitration, and we’ve everything to gain. The opposite course for us would be to sail home empty-handed.”

  Each of the four envoys agreed to
wait to hear from her, but they warned her if the news from the admiral wasn’t favorable, they would be exiting the system immediately.

  The final three envoys were also a surprise to the Boobaffle but for an entirely different reason. Her conversation with the first envoy warned her of what she could expect from the next two.

  “Welcome, Envoy,” the Terrium crew member said to the Boobaffle, as she exited the shuttle. The crew member was massively thick and strong-limbed compared to her. His hands dangled near his knees, and he walked with a slight shuffle. She felt insignificant beside him.

  In the Terrium envoy’s quarters, the Boobaffle was offered the usual amenities before the discussion began.

  “How can I assist you?” the Terrium asked politely.

  The Boobaffle was surprised by the soft tones coming from the Terrium’s heavy jaw, which possessed upper and lower protruding canines. The voice made her more comfortable in his presence. She chose to explain the entire circumstances surrounding the Kirmler’s actions. When she was finished, she motioned with a hand toward the Terrium, inviting him to speak.

  The Terrium envoy blinked once. Then he said, “I fail to understand how this concerns my ship and my race.”

  “But I explained to you that we need you to join our wedge to convince the Kirmler that we’re following his plan,” the Boobaffle objected.

  “Yes, you’ve been most persuasive on that subject,” the Terrium replied. “However, there’s no reason for us to assist you with your scheme. There’s nothing for us to gain. More important, your story could be a fabrication designed to involve us in the Kirmler’s plan. There’s no way that I can substantiate what you’re saying.”

  “What about the possible advantages that helping the admiral might bring you?” the Boobaffle asked.

  “Do you know what the three of us wanted from the Talusians?” the Terrium asked.

  “No,” the Boobaffle admitted.

  “We wanted to borrow Artifice’s capabilities for our races for four years,” the Terrium said. “We wanted the Talusians to transport him to one of our worlds where we could use his power to uplift our tech. We were unaware of where Artifice was housed or the entity’s size. When we discovered the uselessness of our request, we left the hall.”

 

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