Jatouche (Pyreans Book 3)

by S. H. Jucha

  The council had effectively reduced Lise’s governorship to that of a figurehead. The domes’ families had decided they couldn’t accept the economic instability of a competition for the governor’s position or, worse, the return of another dynasty, such as the recently ended Andropov family.

  “You’re required to verify our transition announcement, Lise,” Dorelyn stated coldly. “It’s time the council emerged from the background. Afterwards, you can enjoy your family’s wealth in peace and quiet.” Dorelyn accented the last word in a warning to Lise. In essence, be quiet or be prepared to join the bodies of the criminals and competitors that the families’ security chiefs had buried just beyond the domes.

  In eleven more days, the commandant’s monthly meeting would be held, and Dorelyn planned on using that occasion to accomplish several things: announce the council, support Harbour for envoy, and limit the captain’s power in that position.

  In the same time frame, other strategic discussions were underway among Pyre’s societal sectors. In the Starlight, the usual foursome was enjoying evening drinks in the posh cantina.

  “You were right,” Oster Simian said, raising his glass in a toast to Hans Riesling. “I have to admit that I thought you were far off the mark in your opinion that the Jatouche would return.”

  “And they brought presents,” Dottie noted.

  “Presents with strings attached,” Trent Pederson added. “Why would the little alien want Harbour?”

  Dottie chuckled at Trent’s remarks. She leaned forward and said quietly, “Let me correct your viewpoint there, Trent, because just about every Pyrean man secretly wants Harbour.”

  “Point taken,” Trent admitted, “but I was speaking about the alien.”

  “And while we’re correcting one another,” Hans interjected, “all of us had better learn to say Captain Harbour or Envoy Harbour and Her Highness Tacticnok. To say otherwise and be overheard is to earn the ire of their supporters, and that would be a mistake.”

  “Well, Hans, you were the one who had the vision. Now, what are you thinking?” Oster asked.

  “I find it fascinating that Her Highness knows Captain Harbour so well,” Hans replied.

  “What do you mean?” Dottie asked. The three men were considerably older than her and had accumulated enormous amounts of coin over a long period of time. In contrast, she was newly widowed, and the sale of her husband’s ship and mining rights had recently elevated her into the rarified strata of the station’s wealthy.

  “Her Highness offered two gifts to Captain Harbour,” Hans said. “Which of those would have tempted us?”

  “The intravertors,” Oster and Trent chimed together.

  Hans directed his attention toward Dottie, who said, “The intravertor was for the likes of us. The offer to rehabilitate twenty Pyreans was for the captain.”

  Hans nodded his agreement and paused to sip on his drink. “So, the little alien, as you call this very savvy member of a royal family, crafted an offer to simultaneously appeal to the captain and the rest of Pyre.”

  “And Her Highness was probably testing her knowledge,” Dottie mused. When the men regarded her, she said, “She couldn’t know how her offer would be received by Captain Harbour. Yes, she crafted the terms and had to hope she’d calculated properly. I wonder what she’ll think when she gets the call that there are twenty Pyreans at the Triton gate, who are ready for Jatouche medical care.”

  “That is capital thinking, Dottie,” Hans said, raising his glass to her.

  “Let’s get back on point,” Oster requested. “What’s next? I mean, we’ve gotten just the one load of intravertor parts, which have to be assembled with our shells and which we have to pay for, I might add.”

  “My goal is the same,” Hans replied. “I want a future for my grandchildren on Pyre. We need more intravertors, which means we must convince Captain Harbour to accept the offer of envoy.”

  “The families aren’t going to like that,” Trent warned.

  Oster and Trent were looking at Hans for a reply, but it was Dottie, who said, “I think they will, at least, in a convoluted way.”

  Hans struggled forward in his chair. He was on his third drink. “Go on, Dottie,” he said encouragingly.

  “Well, um … the downsiders saw the same broadcast we did, and no one doubts that the envoy must be the captain or it’s no deal,” Dottie explained. “And, I’m thinking the downsiders, by that I mean the families, want the intravertors as bad as we do. Everyone wants the surface of Pyre reclaimed someday, sooner than later.”

  “So they’ll support Captain Harbour for envoy even though they don’t like it,” Oster concluded.

  The men sipped on their drinks, seeing Dottie Franks in a new light. Originally, they thought of her as an attractive widow, years younger than them, and they were flattered by the attention. The more discussions she participated in, the more they realized there were brains behind the beauty. Her insights tonight told them that Dottie had become an asset to their group.

  “There’s the commandant’s meeting coming in a week,” Hans said quietly. “You can be assured the governor will have something to say about Captain Harbour’s acceptance of Her Highness’ offer.”

  “That’s the part I don’t get,” Trent complained. “If the families encourage the captain to accept the envoy position, how will they maintain control of her negotiations? Intravertor parts are one thing, but Captain Harbour could be making all kinds of deals with the Jatouche that none of us will like.”

  “The families will proceed in the same manner we will,” Hans replied. “We must have a seat at the negotiations table or whatever the Jatouche use.”

  “You mean go through the gate with the captain?” Oster asked.

  “How else?” Hans inquired of the group

  “But who would we send?” Dottie inquired. Her heart fluttered, when the three men quietly appraised her.

  Two days before the investors met in the Starlight, Commandant Emerson Strattleford spoke with Major Liam Finian, who was his second in command. The commandant had broad sway over the JOS and was responsible for the station’s capital expenditures, maintenance, medical support, and security. The one thing that he didn’t control and wished he did was the justice system. That purview belonged to the Review Board, which was led by Captain Henry Stamerson.

  “This can’t happen,” Emerson ranted. “Harbour can’t be allowed to attain this much power over our people.”

  “What does the governor say?” Liam asked quietly.

  Emerson froze in the middle of his tirade and glared at Liam. Ever since the arrest and conviction of the last governor, Markos Andropov, Emerson had felt a powerful undercurrent of distrust from his subordinates toward him. He was uncertain as to why, but he feared his people knew he was in league with the governor.

  “You’d do well to listen to what I’m saying, Major. Your position might depend on it,” Emerson fired back. “Now, the general mood of the stationers is that they’re supportive of Harbour, and there’s nothing we can do about that. But what we can do is assign security to protect the envoy!”

  “You want to send one of our security personnel through the gate to keep a grip on Harbour’s communications with the Jatouche?” Liam asked incredulously. He had to admit he never saw this coming, and he racked his brain to figure a way to convince the commandant it was a bad idea.

  Emerson took a moment to gloat. He saw the hesitation on Liam’s face and knew that he’d caught the major off guard.

  “And while you’re thinking on that,” Emerson crowed, “Let me tell you that the security person will either be you or Lieutenant Higgins. You two can fight it out. Dismissed.”

  The only groups who weren’t concerned about being well represented to the Jatouche by Harbour were the spacers, the empaths, and the Belle’s residents.

  * * * *

  The commandant was forced to hold the monthly meeting in a JOS auditorium due to the number of attendees who clamored to be pre
sent. A nascent media group was given permission to cover the meeting and broadcast the proceedings Pyre-wide.

  Two individuals wouldn’t be present for this historical meeting — Captains Harbour and Jessie Cinders. Their ships were headed for the YIPS and the JOS from Emperion. The Belle and the Unruly Pearl were loaded were slush, and the captains anticipated another superlative payout of coin.

  Jessie Cinders spent hours calculating the best investment for his company’s growing surplus of coin. With the earnings expected from the upcoming YIPS delivery, Jessie had enough to order another ship. If he chose to take that route, the question he faced was what kind of ship he should add. The arrival of the Jatouche and Tacticnok’s proposal had complicated his decision.

  Harbour and Jessie decided to join the commandant’s meeting from her quarters. Engineers had set up a high-resolution pickup at the end of the salon table, and the captains chose to sit side by side, within a single frame.

  On Dingles’ request, Birdie had contacted JOS security, specifically Major Finian, to plan how to maintain a presence in the commandant’s meeting.

  “Are you interested in a two-way audio patch?” Liam had asked Birdie.

  “Only if you think the meeting will host significant discussions,” Birdie had replied sarcastically.

  “Point taken,” Liam replied. “I’ll hand you off to Sergeant Cecilia Lindstrom.”

  Cecilia understood Birdie’s request, and she quickly arranged the kind of technical presence that made the Belle comm specialist smile.

  When the conference attendees filed into the auditorium, the principals, except for the commandant, were shocked to find that they didn’t have a central forum from which to lead the discussions. They were relegated to the front rows of general seating.

  Lise Panoy smiled to herself at the commandant’s maneuvering to hold hostage the meeting’s central role. She surmised that it was the novel media coverage that had prompted Emerson’s decision.

  After the attendee’s filled the auditorium and station security closed the doors, turning away stationers and spacers, Emerson strode onto the stage. His confident step faltered, when he spotted the huge screen that occupied a space beside the podium. He frowned at Major Finian, who waited in the wings, but Liam merely stared passively back at him.

  “The meeting will come to order,” Emerson announced officially from the podium. He enjoyed the way his voice was projected throughout the auditorium. “Two important participants aren’t present, but that can’t be helped,” he said.

  “Now,” Liam whispered over his comm unit, and Cecilia transferred the Belle’s link from security operations to the monitor on the auditorium link. Simultaneously, she cued Birdie, who relayed the signal to Harbour.

  The audience watched the monitor next to Emerson spring to life, displaying Captains Cinders and Harbour sitting side by side in a spacious, well-appointed salon.

  “We’re pleased to be able to join this important meeting today,” Harbour said. Specifically, she didn’t address Emerson. Unknown to the auditorium’s attendees, the captains had two monitors stationed beside their pickup. One unit displayed an image of the commandant, and the other showed a wide view of the audience.

  Emerson swiveled his head around, looking for the culprit he suspected had engineered this undercutting of his moment. Unfortunately for Emerson, Liam, who the commandant wished to blame, was no longer standing in the wings. The major, wearing a satisfied smile, was descending the backstage steps to access the front of the house.

  In the front row, Lise raised her hand. Time to get this ignominious moment over with, she thought.

  Emerson recognized the governor, appreciating that the meeting would begin on a familiar note.

  Lise chose to stand to make her announcement. A media pickup hovered near her. “There has been a significant change in the manner in which the domes will be governed,” Lise said, which elicited a round of noise from the attendees.

  Emerson called for quiet and requested Lise continue.

  “The domes will no longer be overseen by a governor,” Lise continued. “Effective immediately, the power of my office is passed to a council made up of the families and directed by three individuals who have been chosen by the council. I’d like to introduce them.”

  One by one, Lise asked Dorelyn, Idrian, and Rufus to stand and greet the audience. Then Lise sat down, as did Idrian and Rufus.

  “I’ll be the primary participant, representing the domes, for the important subjects to be discussed today,” Dorelyn said. She wasn’t looking at Emerson. She was staring straight and hard into the monitor on the stage.

  Jessie signed to Harbour in plain view of the audience, and Dorelyn frowned. She was unable to understand the waggling digits. But what irked Dorelyn was Harbour’s sly smile. It was obvious to her that the captains had a means of communicating without speaking.

  Across Cinders’ ships and the Belle, spacers, empaths, and residents were laughing out loud. Jessie was using sign language, which he’d learned from Kasey, a tech aboard the Spryte. After Jessie used the technique to free his crew, when they were trapped in the dome, sign language had been adopted by nearly everyone aboard the captains’ ships. It had become a game to demonstrate the greater proficiency. However, underpinning the spacers’ efforts was the thought that one day it might be a tool that saved their lives.

  Emerson called for attention, annoyed that the audience was focusing on the monitor. He was tempted to push the unit and its stand offstage but thought that would make him appear petty.

  Dorelyn had remained standing, and Emerson said, “Dorelyn Gaylan, you have the floor.”

  “The domes’ council wishes to go on record that we support Captain Harbour taking the position of envoy to the Jatouche,” Dorelyn stated formally, which elicited a buzz from the audience.

  Jessie signed to Harbour, “Watch out. A second deck shoe will drop.”

  True to Jessie’s warning, Dorelyn proceeded to say, “However, careful attention needs to be paid to those who will accompany Captain Harbour. Specifically, these should be individuals who reflect the population’s balance.”

  A loud grumbling erupted from the audience. They knew where Dorelyn was headed.

  When Emerson quieted the crowd, Dorelyn continued. “We don’t want to overwhelm the Jatouche with an extensive envoy party. Therefore, it seems prudent to work in close approximation to the ratios of our diverse society. The domes will contribute four representatives, stationers two, and spacers one. Captain Harbour represents spacers and empaths, which means that a position has been taken. All that remains is for the JOS to choose its two representatives.”

  The audience erupted into angry shouts that drowned out Emerson’s protestations. It was apparent that not only was Dorelyn’s suggestion not appreciated, but that many stationers had intentions of accompanying Harbour.

  A burly mining captain stood and bellowed for quiet. He got everyone’s attention, and Emerson was able to restore order.

  Jessie glanced at Harbour and signed. She replied in kind. Those aboard the captains’ ships read Jessie as saying, “This is a problem.” Harbour had replied, “Be patient.”

  A prominent stationer stood without being recognized. He directed his comments at Dorelyn. “With all due respect to the downsiders, their lives have been good. It’s those of us up here who’ve had to struggle. That’s something the families and their kind would know little about. If anyone is going to accompany Captain Harbour, it should be stationers, and we’ll keep you apprised of our negotiations.”

  The stationer’s comments elicited thunderous cheers and applause.

  When the opportunity presented itself, Dorelyn answered. “The council is adamant on this subject. We’ve a right to be fairly represented by our numbers and our wealth. You want to be careful that your protestations don’t create a rift that can’t be repaired.”

  The outrage over the threat teetered on the brink of disrupting the meeting. Once again, it
was a captain who got everyone’s attention. She loosed a warning via a portable horn. The terrific noise cut through the shouting and silenced the crowd.

  “I have enough loads in this horn to sound it twenty or more times,” the captain said. “If you like your hearing, I advise you to communicate in a calm, peaceful manner. I, for one, wish to witness a conclusion to this discussion.”

  Emerson had his opportunity, and he was intent on making his own point. “The domes’ council leader has neglected to mention another sector of the populace. Security is responsible for every function of Pyre. As far as I’m concerned, that includes this potential envoy party. I insist an officer of my staff accompany Captain Harbour for her protection and to represent the functions of Pyre security.

  Hans Riesling raised his hand. He stood and said, “There are many of us who invested heavily in the first intravertor. We intend to continue to do so for as much coin as we can afford. For that reason alone, I believe we have a right to have a say, and I don’t mean after negotiations are all said and done.”

  Originally, Harbour had sincerely wished that she was present at the meeting to sense the emotions. Recognizing the level of chaos, she now appreciated the fact that she was comfortably sitting beside Jessie in her salon.

  Harbour raised her hand, which Emerson didn’t see. However, many people pointed at the monitor.

  “Captain Harbour,” Emerson said, turning to face the monitor, “much of this discussion is predicated on your acceptance of the Jatouche offer. All this is moot, if you intend to refuse it. And, Captain Cinders, will you accompany her if she does go?”

  Jessie replied first, “If Captain Harbour decides to go, then I’ll follow, as her advisor.” He felt a subtle wave of support flood through his mind.

  “I’ll tell this audience under what conditions I’ll accept participants,” Harbour said, in a clear, strong voice.

  “With respect, Captain Harbour,” Dorelyn said, cutting the captain off, “this discussion is bigger than you. This group must decide what’s best for Pyre.”