Jatouche (Pyreans Book 3)

by S. H. Jucha

  JATOUCHE

  Pyreans Book 3

  S. H. JUCHA

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by S. H. Jucha.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Published by Hannon Books, Inc.

  www.scottjucha.com

  ISBN: 978-0-9994928-4-0 (e-book)

  ISBN: 978-0-9994928-5-7 (softcover)

  First Edition: September 2018

  Cover Design: Damon Za

  Formatting: Polgarus Studio

  Acknowledgments

  Jatouche is the third book in the Pyreans series. I wish to extend a special thanks to my independent editor, Joni Wilson, whose efforts enabled the finished product. To my proofreaders, Abiola Streete, Dr. Jan Hamilton, David Melvin, Ron Critchfield, Pat Bailey, and Mykola Dolgalov, I offer my sincere thanks for their support.

  I wish to thank several sources for information incorporated into the book’s science. The bone replacement copy (BRC, pronounced brick) originated from the website of EpiBone and commentary by CEO Nina Tandon.

  The El car diamond-thread cable concept was borrowed from Penn State Professor John Badding and Dow Chemical Company senior R&D analytical chemist Tom Fitzgibbons, who isolated liquid-state benzene molecules into a zigzagging arrangement of rings of carbon atoms in the shape of a triangular pyramid — a formation similar to that of diamonds.

  I’m a fan of James White and his Sector General series of twelve, science fiction novels, which were set aboard the Sector 12 General Hospital, a huge hospital space station. The facilities were designed to treat a wide variety of life forms, with a broad range of ailments and life-support requirements. I’m pleased and proud to pay homage to Mr. White’s legacy by borrowing his concept for Rissness Station.

  My thanks to Michael Fossel, MD, PhD, with whom I’ve had formative discussions about telomere lengthening, which I mention in this story. I highly recommend reading his book, The Telomerase Revolution.

  Despite the assistance I’ve received from others, all errors are mine.

  Glossary

  A glossary is located at the end of the book. Some alien names are used frequently. For pronunciation of many of them, refer to the glossary. For instance, Jatouche is pronounced as jaw-toosh, with a hard “j,” as are all the Jatouche names beginning with “j.”

  Table of Contents

  -1- Arrival

  -2- Rumors

  -3- Rictook

  -4- Rissness Station

  -5- Restorations

  -6- Welcome Home

  -7- The Twenty

  -8- Commotion

  -9- Rescue

  -10- Envoy

  -11- Selections

  -12- The Crossing

  -13- Journey

  -14- Medallions

  -15- Audience

  -16- Negotiations

  -17- Round Two

  -18- Presentation

  -19- Mangoth

  -20- The Colony

  -21- Team’s Return

  -22- Messages

  -23- Decisions

  -24- Once More

  -25- Destinations

  -26- Alpha Dome

  -27- Beta Dome

  -28- Star Map

  -29- Homeward

  -30- New Futures

  -31- Intravertor Status

  -32- Emerson’s Meeting

  -33- Candidates

  -34- Intrigues

  -35- Campaigns

  -36- Attack

  -37- Roby

  -38- Election

  -39- Liam Finian

  -40- Dorelyn Gaylan

  -41- Choices

  -42- Sika

  -43- Rewards

  -44- Favors

  -45- Left Out

  Glossary

  My Books

  The Author

  -1-

  Arrival

  Jatouche Q-gate number two’s flash of blue light merged briefly with the overhead dome. A small coalition of humans and aliens appeared on the gate’s platform, having journeyed from the faraway system of Pyre.

  “Come,” Her Highness Tacticnok said, directing the three humans to follow her, as she and her Jatouche stepped off the Q-gate, which had transported the individuals from Triton, a Pyrean moon.

  Tacticnok expected the three Pyrean engineers to follow her. They’d heard her command in their ear wigs, which were a gift from her species to humans. The tiny devices managed translations between the Pyreans and the Jatouche. The humans had Tacticnok’s sympathy. They were the first of their species to travel via a quantum-coupled gate.

  Instead of obeying Tacticnok, the humans were transfixed by the parade of aliens coming and going from the dome’s other platforms. The Jatouche were the first and only aliens who Pyreans had previously met. The discovery that there were other sentient races had come as a shock to humans.

  One of the engineers, Pete Jennings, reached a hand to his crotch and felt around. When Pete caught Olivia Harden’s quizzical glance, he muttered, “Just checking to make sure everything came through okay.”

  Despite the warning from Captain Harbour, a notable Pyrean captain, who informed the engineers that they should expect to see other sentient races on their arrival, the engineers stood frozen on the platform, mesmerized by the cavalcade passing by.

  Jaktook, the Jatouche dome administrator, who had become Tacticnok’s close advisor, regarded the stunned humans. “Perhaps we should have prepared them better,” he whispered to Tacticnok.

  “How does one prepare a young race for this scene?” Tacticnok asked, sweeping an arm at the dome’s activity.

  As experienced engineers, Olivia Harden, Bryan Forshaw, and Pete Jennings, despite their incredulity, were registering an assortment of minutiae, such as the Jatouche dome had six platforms versus the single platform found at their moon. The center console had six stations, but only five platforms were active. A sixth platform was enclosed in a three-meter high wall, with equipment poised on top of the wall, which pointed inward and downward.

  However, the majority of the Pyreans’ attention focused on the indescribable parade of unusual individuals, arriving and departing via the other platforms. Olivia, Pete, and Bryan gawked at the diverse species walking, crawling, and slithering past them. In reverse, the engineers were the first humans to be observed by these other members of the alien alliance. As such, stares were exchanged in both directions.

  “We probably look as odd to them, as they do to us,” Olivia shared with her companions.

  “You sure about that?” Bryan asked. His remark accompanied the passage of a creature obviously capable of flight, even though it was walking.

  The avian’s membrane-covered wings were tightly folded, but the one facing Pete appeared to be damaged. Pete leaned forward to examine the injury, and in response, the alien paused, craned its long neck, and extended a sharp beak toward Pete. Human eyes and alien orbs regarded each other silently before the avian walked on.

  “This is going to take some time to get used to,” Pete muttered.

  The humans stepped toward the platform’s edge, but Tacticnok signaled them to stop. They heard, “Wait,” in their ear wigs.

  Four Jatouche in uniforms escorted a tank of semiclear, light-blue liquid past the humans. The tank was as tall as a human and measured about two meters wide by three meters long.r />
  Two small aliens led the way, clearing a path. Another Jatouche wore a headset and transmitted commands to the tank’s carrier, which floated about fifteen centimeters off the deck, and directed the tank’s movement. A fourth individual followed the tank and acted as a buffer from those behind her.

  As the tank silently passed the engineers’ platform, the humans saw waving tentacles appear and disappear, as the appendages neared the tank’s clear walls. Several tentacles evidenced burn, and Olivia flinched in sympathy.

  The entity within the tank pressed close to the wall to view the oddly formed creatures staring at it. Four alien orbs regarded three pairs of human eyes, as the sentients observed one another.

  “We’re definitely not on Pyre anymore,” Pete commented.

  “Technically, we never were,” Bryan replied. He was referring to the fact that two of them were spacers and the other served on the YIPS, the Yellen-Inglehart Processing Station. None of them lived downside in one of Pyre’s domes.

  “Did you see that alien’s mouth parts?” Pete asked.

  “It’s probably saying to itself, ‘I wonder what happened to their mouth parts. Maybe they’re here to have them reattached,’” Olivia replied.

  That’s what had brought the three engineers to Jatouche, technically to Rissness, the Jatouche moon, where the dome had been built by the alien race known as the Messinants. They had what Her Highness Tacticnok had euphemistically referred to as decorations, severe injuries each had suffered.

  “Come,” Tacticnok repeated, when the medical unit escorting the tank cleared their platform.

  The engineers stepped off the gate and joined Tacticnok and her team. The Jatouche led the Pyreans across the dome, toward the exit, which was a wedge that slid aside to allow egress and ingress to the Q-gates via a ramp.

  Despite the number of aliens, cargo, and other sundry items in transport, all appeared to be orderly and fairly quiet, until a console operator announced in a strong voice, “Crocian is arriving.”

  “Come quickly,” Tacticnok said sharply to the engineers.

  The Pyreans didn’t need their ear wig translations to understand Tacticnok’s urgency. Her gestures and fearful expression were enough to galvanize them.

  However, before the small contingent could reach the ramp and descend below the dome’s deck, a platform’s blue light flashed, merging with the shield above, and an alien appeared, who was more imposing than the humans could have imagined. Across the deck, Jatouche and other aliens scuttled aside, leaving an open pathway for the Crocian.

  The engineers felt tugs on their arms, intended to pull them free of the Crocian’s path. Unfortunately, the Jatouche failed to comprehend the kind of lives the engineers had endured. The harsh conditions of space had mentally toughened them, and their minds were populated with the memories of horrendous calamities. In simple terms, they weren’t easily intimidated.

  “Ugly as this one is, it’s got to be a sentient, right?” Bryan whispered to Olivia and Pete.

  “That’s my thinking,” Olivia whispered in reply.

  The Crocian waddled on a pair of thick, squat, hind legs toward the ramp. His muscular tail, which trailed a half meter on the deck, balanced his heavy body. His hands and feet were uncovered and ended in blunt, black claws. He wore a simple sheath and was a head taller than the humans, who blocked his path.

  The audience on the deck resembled a tableau, as they watched and waited for the inevitable confrontation to unfold.

  “What’re you supposed to be?” Olivia challenged the alien, her arms defiantly folded across her chest, not caring whether the scaled entity understood her or not.

  “I’m Mangoth of the Logar,” the alien announced.

  The Pyreans glanced at one another, surprised to hear their ear wigs managing translations for the Crocian.

  “Nice name,” Pete shot back. “Why are you frightening our friends?”

  “I’m Crocian. Many cower before our magnificence,” Mangoth replied. To emphasize the point, the alien’s maw opened, displaying long rows of blunt, conical teeth.

  “Well, Mangoth, despite your glorious presence, it looks like others are more magnificent than you,” Bryan replied, indicating the extensive scars on the Crocian. Deep grooves along Mangoth’s jaw appeared to be made by claws. Punctures in the muscled shoulder indicated teeth or a weapon had delivered the injuries, and a digit on the formidable right claw was missing.

  “Who are you to ask?” Mangoth demanded.

  “If you don’t like our questions, waddle your bulk around us,” Pete replied hotly.

  “Crocians step aside for no race, especially upstarts who haven’t joined the alliance,” Mangoth retorted.

  “And there you have it,” Olivia replied, laughing. “We aren’t members of the alliance, which means we don’t know the rules.”

  “You’re impertinent creatures,” Mangoth said, his tongue lapping the top of his open mouth.

  “I don’t much like that word creature,” Bryan said, glancing toward his friends, who concurred by shaking their heads.

  “Now,” the Crocian demanded.

  “Now what?” Olivia asked.

  “Are you moving?” Mangoth demanded.

  “Why should we?” Bryan retorted. “There’s room for you to go around.”

  Mangoth loosed a low and rumbling roar. The sonic waves vibrated through the engineers’ chests. “I like your impudence. You’re audacious,” he boomed. “How do you call yourselves?”

  “We’re humans. We come from Pyre,” Olivia volunteered.

  “What happened to you?” Pete asked, pointing toward Mangoth’s deep wounds. “Did you say something wrong to your mate?” he joked.

  Mangoth’s long jaw snapped shut. His yellow eyes regarded the three humans. Then his head drooped.

  “I have no mate,” Mangoth admitted. “These marks were received in a mating bid.”

  “Ouch,” Bryan remarked, “I take it that you didn’t win.”

  “The fighting was fierce, but I acquiesced to my opponent’s greater strength,” Mangoth said. “I’m here to remove these shameful scars. It will improve my opportunity when next I compete.”

  “Good luck with that,” Olivia said.

  “My thanks for your comment, human,” Mangoth said. “I see you’re in need of repair yourselves, but how is it that you’ve been brought here?”

  “We’re here at Her Highness Tacticnok’s invitation,” Olivia replied, indicating the Jatouche, who stood quietly aside, with her team.

  Mangoth eyed Tacticnok. “Commendable,” he said, tipping his head minutely at the diminutive royal member. Turning to the engineers, he added, “I look forward to the filing of your race’s application to join the alliance, if it is ever submitted. Now, how will we accommodate our predicament?”

  “As a courtesy to an individual, who might someday be a fellow alliance member,” Olivia said congenially. “We will step aside today. One day, it will be your turn.”

  The Crocian bellowed his laughter, as the engineers made way for him.

  “Be polite to our friends,” Bryan whispered to Mangoth’s scaly back. The only response he received was a subtle lift of the alien’s heavy tail.

  The Jatouche watched the Crocian waddle down the ramp. They stared open-mouthed at the Pyreans. Tacticnok’s team members were anxious to speak, but she silenced them with a motion of her hand.

  “Let us proceed,” Tacticnok said, leading the party down the ramp. “I regret, Olivia, Pete, and Bryan, that you must remain at the dome until I secure permission from my father to proceed.”

  “And if he doesn’t give his approval?” Pete asked.

  “Then we’ll immediately return you to Triton,” Tacticnok replied.

  A host of questions stirred in the engineers’ minds, but suddenly the Jatouche seemed reluctant to speak. A partial answer was provided in the corridor beneath the dome. Despite the greater width of the passage than the one at Triton, it was crowded with pedestrians
, tanks escorted by uniformed Jatouche, and cargo haulers.

  As Tacticnok indicated, the party didn’t reach the corridor’s end, which would have led to the dome’s exit. Instead, Jaktook, who fronted the group, stopped and touched a glowing glyph on the wall. A door recessed and slid aside. The lit glyphs covered every surface of the dome. In this case, the activation of the door uncovered a ramp, and this one led to another lower level.

  The engineers saw only Jatouche in the new level, where the group descended. It appeared to them that the levels below the primary sublevel were only accessible by the host race. It made the engineers wonder if they would have access to the lower levels at Triton. Humans had learned that they were the second race to occupy Pyre. According to Tacticnok and Jaktook, the original race was the Gasnarians, who were destroyed in a long-running war after they attacked the Jatouche.

  Partway along the third level’s corridor, Jaktook touched a second glyph and walked through the doorway.

  “Oh, superior accommodations,” Olivia remarked, relishing the room’s gracious appointments.

  “I must leave you,” Tacticnok said, her expression portraying her apology. “You will receive word of my father’s pronouncement in a matter of cycles. Jaktook will keep you informed.”

  Tacticnok’s gaze lingered on Jaktook. He flashed his teeth at her, attempting to buoy her spirits, and she tipped her slender muzzle in appreciation before she turned and left.

  Jaktook led the Pyreans around the room, demonstrating the facilities. The engineers, who hadn’t visited the accommodations on Triton, were fascinated by the glyph-activated beds that slid from the wall, the self-warming pallets, and the food dispensers.

  For modesty’s sake, Kractik, the female console operator, showed Olivia the operation of the personal facilities. Afterwards, Jaktook trained the men on the hose receptacle and the controls for the mister.