Jatouche (Pyreans Book 3)

by S. H. Jucha

  “This lack of discipline does not give a ruler confidence in the opinion of such an individual,” Rictook said sternly, “Her Highness deserves better, but I’ll forgive you this once, Master Jaktook.”

  Jaktook had focused on the rebuke. He barely heard the final two words. When they sunk in, he looked around him for the reactions of others. The title of master was bestowed on those with great experience and acumen. Tacticnok, Tiknock, and Pickcit were pleased for him, and Roknick was agitated.

  Jaktook drew breath to say he didn’t deserve the honor, but Rictook’s fingers rose and halted the words in his throat.

  “Do you think your ruler unwise?” Rictook asked.

  The question took Jaktook aback. Before he could formulate an answer, Rictook mercifully moved on.

  “I don’t make my pronouncements lightly, Master Jaktook,” Rictook said. “These old eyes have rarely witnessed so much courage and daring from a Jatouche. Of course, I’m not referring to you facing the Colony, exploring the galaxy through the domes, or solving the console’s riddles. I’m referring to you riding a Crocian.”

  Rictook’s teeth flashed in a wide display, and he issued a series of strangled chuckles, as his body tried to give expression to the delight he felt. Here was a young Jatouche, who thought as did his daughter, and fortune providing, he would be with her for her long life.

  * * * *

  The Pyrean explorers went to sleep knowing the Spryte would make station over Triton soon. They’d tracked the ship’s progress via the console’s comm panel, which displayed the potential contacts. There was only one vessel closing on their moon.

  In the early hours of the morning, Harbour woke as Jessie slipped out of the room. Lately, he’d done this frequently, staying up on deck for hours. Tonight, Harbour was determined to understand the problem that Jessie was keeping to himself. She donned her deck shoes and padded softly after him. She found Jessie sitting on the edge of the platform staring at the stars, which were barely visible through the dome’s glow.

  “You know you’re preventing anyone coming through from the other side,” Harbour teased.

  “Why would anyone want to come to Pyre?” Jessie asked.

  Harbour was taken aback by the despondency in Jessie’s voice and the conflicting emotions rolling off him. This wasn’t like him. Worse, she depended on his strength, and it appeared to be ebbing. She opened her gates wide and relied on her years of empathetic training, intending to treat Jessie as a client who needed her help.

  Briefly, fear bloomed in Harbour’s heart. She was afraid of not being of use to him. She resorted to a breathing technique to regain her calm and rid herself of negative emotions. When she was ready, she sat beside Jessie. He had a faraway gaze, as if he was among the stars instead of sitting next to her.

  “What’s on your mind, Jessie?” Harbour asked.

  “Many things,” Jessie replied.

  “Can you tell me one of them?” Harbour encouraged.

  Jessie’s gaze shifted to Harbour and then the console. He’d spent the time on deck trying to understand the depression that had gripped him since returning to Pyre. It made no sense to him.

  “I’m wondering what to do next,” Jessie said.

  There was a lengthy pause from Jessie, and Harbour waited him out. A long sigh escaped him, which Harbour thought indicated that he’d come to a decision.

  “If I return to the captaincy of the Spryte, I’d have to demote Ituau, which would reverse her promotions and possibly a hiring or two,” Jessie complained.

  “Is that what you want to do … take over as ship’s captain?” Harbour asked.

  “Not really, but I’m not trained to do anything else,” Jessie replied.

  “I don’t know … I thought you did a great job as my advisor,” Harbour said. She noted the shift in Jessie. His emotional mix turned positive, hopeful, and he fingered the medallion he wore.

  “Do you expect to return to Na-Tikkook?” Jessie asked, his voice showing a spark of energy.

  “Not immediately,” Harbour replied, and Jessie deflated.

  At that point, Harbour dismissed her training. An empath-client relationship was of no use. This was personal. She stared at Jessie until he returned her gaze. Then she said, “Do you expect me to continue the job of envoy by myself? You’re the one who said I should make the most of the Jatouche and Tsargit rewards.”

  “Yes, but you don’t need me for that,” Jessie said quietly.

  “Okay, if that’s what you want, Jessie,” Harbour said, keeping her voice evenly modulated, as if it was of no concern to her what he chose to do. “I would ask one final favor of you, as my advisor.”

  “Certainly, name it,” Jessie said, sitting upright.

  “Outline for me the steps I need to take to make the best use of the rewards and implement the essence of the Belle’s stolen documents,” Harbour requested sweetly.

  For a moment, Jessie’s mouth fell open, and then he laughed. Harbour felt the emotional energy course through him and radiate outward. This was Jessie back from the dead and depressed.

  “Yeah,” Jessie said, nodding his head and chuckling, “I think that would take a little more than an outline. Looks like you’re in need of an advisor for a bit longer.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Harbour acknowledged, reaching across to grip Jessie’s hand. As much as she wanted to share what she felt, she knew it was the wrong time to do so.

  -31-

  Intravertor Status

  Henry, Idrian, and Dottie had returned to Pyre months ago, and like Henry, Dottie was frustrated by the lack of success in the endeavors that Harbour had charged them to complete. Adding to her annoyance, Idrian was refusing to take her calls.

  At the regular Starlight cantina meeting, Dottie eyed her fellow patrons, Hans Riesling, Oster Simian, and Trent Pederson. “None of you have contributed?” she asked incredulously.

  “And you have?” Trent retorted.

  “Of course, I have,” Dottie shot back. “What is with the three of you? You supported the deployment of the first intravertor, but you won’t continue to fund the effort. That doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “Things have gotten much more complicated,” Oster said, in a placating tone. “We’re not dealing with a governor anymore. The domes’ council has taken a hard position on the question of access to the surface.”

  “You need to understand what that means, Dottie,” Hans interjected. “What good is clearing Pyre’s air, if stationers and spacers are denied access to the surface? We’re up here, and they’re down there.”

  “Downsiders don’t have a right to do that,” Dottie said hotly.

  “Calm down, Dottie,” Oster said, his hands motioning her to be quiet. “No, legally we can’t be denied access to the surface, but the families can withhold their coin.”

  “And we can’t build intravertors without their contributions. The families have a heck of a lot more coin than we do,” Hans added.

  Dottie considered her companion’s remarks. They were disappointing to hear, but she respected them for their honesty.

  “Let’s face it, Dottie,” Trent said. “Harbour might have started something that can’t be finished. It would have been better if she stuck to being the empath leader and left the Belle on station over Pyre.”

  Dottie turned her gaze on Trent, and it blazed. In surprise, Trent leaned back in his chair.

  “I’ll say this once and only once,” said Dottie, her voice low and hard. “I never want to hear any of you utter another disparaging remark about Envoy Harbour or any empath, for that matter. That woman and her team of explorers undertook enormous risks for all of Pyre. You would have wailed like children and wet your skins if you saw even the images of the horrendous, venomous aliens they faced. You sit here safe and secure aboard this station, while you pass judgment on something you know nothing about.”

  With that, Dottie stood up, said good night, and left.

  Trent looked at his fellow inv
estors for sympathy but found none in their gazes.

  “You do realize that you insulted the envoy to the face of one of her delegates,” Oster said to Trent.

  Suddenly, the entire Starlight cantina was abuzz. Word passed from table to table, often aided by the servers.

  “The envoy and her people are back,” a server said to Dottie’s investor friends. “They’re one short.”

  “Somebody stay behind?” Oster asked.

  “Doesn’t sound like that,” the server said. “Word is the explorers might have lost one.”

  Hans looked at Trent, and said, “I think you’d better start working on your apology.”

  “And make it a good one,” Oster added. “Or we might decide it’s better to have a delegate in our midst than a fellow investor.”

  Trent drew breath to object, but reason ruled, and he shut his mouth.

  * * * *

  Jessie readied the comm panel, when the console indicated the Spryte had closed on Triton. The team knew how to make a call and could choose whether it should be audio only or include visuals. Aurelia’s detailed recording of the glyphs and their meanings were proving to be extremely valuable.

  “You’ve got quite a list growing there,” Jessie had commented to Aurelia, when he saw her adding to her list.

  “This might become my new career,” Aurelia quipped. “We can’t be admitted to the alliance or form a true partnership with the Jatouche until we learn the console. I say there’s no time like the present.”

  “You have to be there to test the glyphs of each panel,” Harbour pointed out.

  “That’s no problem. I can eat paste for a long while,” Aurelia replied, which elicited groans from most of the explorers.

  “I wonder if we can tap into the dome’s energy sources to power a cold locker and a cooker,” Olivia mused.

  “We’d probably blow a power connector,” Pete grumbled.

  Despite Pete’s comment, the engineers had gotten gleams in their eyes, and Harbour and Aurelia sensed their excitement.

  When the conversation wound down, Jessie tapped the panel icon for the nearby ship.

  “Captain, incoming message,” Nate Mikado, the Spryte’s first mate called out.

  Ituau had hung around the bridge, as the ship decelerated to take up station. There was no means of connecting to the dome’s console, so they’d had to wait until they were called.

  Nate punched the comm icon on his panel to accept the call, and the faces of Harbour and Jessie appeared.

  “Captains,” Ituau and Nate called out enthusiastically, all decorum aside.

  The pair’s delight had Jessie and Harbour grinning.

  Ituau was the first to recover, quickly adding, “Sorry, Envoy Harbour and Captain Cinders.”

  Harbour signed to Jessie to respond. “It’s wonderful to see the two of you again,” he said. “But, let me correct your address. I might be the owner of the company, but you will address me as Advisor Cinders in public.”

  When Ituau frowned, Jessie continued, “That means my final company promotion remains, Captain Tulafono.”

  “Are you sure?” Ituau asked. Jessie stared at her out of the bridge monitor until the reason for his firm gaze jogged her thoughts. “I mean … are you sure, Advisor Cinders?” she rephrased.

  Jessie minutely tipped his head in acknowledgment of Ituau’s correct response.

  Ituau straightened her broad shoulders. Jessie’s pronouncement had relieved her of the stress that had been building ever since she’d received the message from Dingles to sail for Triton.

  “I understand we have ten to board, Advisor,” Ituau said.

  “Correct, and three crates of intravertor parts,” Jessie replied.

  “We’ll be down shortly, Cap … Advisor,” Ituau replied.

  Jessie ended the call, and Ituau regarded Nate. “These new titles are going to take some time to adopt.”

  “I understand the challenge,” Nate replied. “It took us a while to think of you as captain.” He’d spoken while standing in the bridge’s hatchway. That enabled him to drop his remarks and make a fast escape.

  The explorers had been grateful for the appearance of the first delivery of intravertor parts. It had ended the tedium. Aurelia and the engineers broke from studying the console glyphs to help clear the platform. Minutes later, a second pile appeared on the platform.

  When the final shipment arrived, a huge pile of crates spilled across the deck. Olivia regarded the size of the piles, and said, “I think we’ve enough parts to build three more devices.”

  Jessie looked at Harbour for orders, and she laughed. “Envoy,” she said, pointing to her chest.

  Jessie had grinned in response and ordered the explorers to start carrying crates to the second level and stage them in the corridor next to the dome’s exit. “I’d like them stacked outside, but I wish to reserve our air tanks,” he’d said.

  * * * *

  In three days’ time after the Spryte made Triton, the explorers and the cargo were aboard the mining ship and inbound for Pyre.

  Harbour waited until they closed the distance to the JOS to prevent comm lag. Then she called Henry.

  “Envoy, I was pleased to hear of your return, and I’m sorry about Dillon,” Henry said.

  “Dillon was a tragic loss, but we’re lucky that we didn’t lose more of us. The journey was that risky,” Harbour replied. “I’ll save our story until we dock at the JOS. Right now, I’m interested in hearing about the delegates’ progress.”

  “I wish I had good news for you, Envoy,” Henry replied. “Initially, we made good headway. The arrival of the three sets of intravertor parts with us generated enthusiasm from the stationers and the spacers. The Pyrean Green fund received a swell of contributions. The problem was that the coin amounts were modest. We didn’t receive any of the significant donations that we received last time.”

  “How far did you get on the buildout of the convertors?” Harbour asked.

  Briefly, there was silence on the comm. Then Henry said, “Regretfully, Envoy, only two devices are complete. The third is barely begun.”

  “And the deployment efforts?” Harbour asked.

  “Nothing,” Henry replied, in a desultory manner. “I’m not you, Envoy. Without your presence, we haven’t garnered the major supporters. Worse, the commandant refuses to commit station resources to build a deployment platform.”

  “By your comments, I take it that there’s no progress on a JOS–Triton passenger shuttle,” Harbour suggested.

  “That’s the strange thing, Envoy,” Henry replied. “I’ve heard that the architect, who designed the Belle’s new shuttle, has received a commission for a heavy passenger shuttle.”

  “Who’s paying for that?” Harbour asked.

  “No information on that, but I’ve an idea,” Henry replied.

  “Dorelyn and the dome council,” Harbour supplied.

  “That’s my guess,” Henry acknowledged.

  “Has the commandant offered a reason for his failure to support the launch platform?” Harbour inquired.

  Henry pitched his voice high to imitate the commandant, and said, “It’s under consideration.”

  “Under consideration for months?” Harbour shot back, incredulity textured her voice.

  “Perhaps the commandant needs some persuasion,” Henry proffered. He waited for Harbour’s reply, which was slow in coming. When it did arrive, it was totally unexpected.

  “Perhaps we need a new commandant,” Harbour said “We’ll talk more when I make the station, Captain.” Then she ended the comm.

  “Did you expect anything different?” Jessie asked.

  Harbour had made the call from the Spryte’s captain’s quarters, which Ituau had relinquished, and Jessie had heard every word.

  “Actually, I didn’t have any expectations,” Harbour said. “It’s easier that way … no disappointments.”

  “I’ll have to try to adopt that technique,” Jessie said.

 
“No major contributors and nothing from the commandant,” Harbour mused.

  “I can understand Emerson Strattleford’s reluctance,” Jessie suggested. “He’s probably on Dorelyn’s payroll, which means he’s taking her orders.”

  “So what’s her agenda?” Harbour asked.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say the dome council wants a land deal before they commit their resources,” Jessie volunteered.

  “Then why commission the long-range shuttle before they get their agreement?” Harbour asked.

  “You need to allow a long lead time before a shuttle can be delivered,” Jessie explained. “The first step is the architect’s design. You can get that for a relatively small amount of coin.”

  “Hmm,” Harbour mumbled. Then she added, “I didn’t get involved in the order of the Belle’s shuttle. Danny Thompson took care of everything. I just paid the invoices.”

  “No wonder everyone likes working for you,” Jessie remarked.

  “And what’s wrong with our wealthy stationers?” Harbour asked.

  “Leadership,” Jessie offered.

  “As my advisor, I expect more qualified answers,” Harbour said. She sent him a small amount of warmth to ensure he knew she was teasing.

  Jessie took no umbrage from Harbour’s ministration. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. There were multiple times during their explorations that Harbour and Aurelia used their powers to keep the teams’ spirits up. His exposure to the empaths had slowly changed his mind about their abilities. The value of power came down to who wielded it and for what reasons.

  “The wealthy stationers are investors. They’re not going to contribute large amounts of coin, if they don’t see any long-term value in it,” Jessie explained.

  “But the intravertors will change the face of Pyre,” Harbour insisted.

  “You’re thinking of the end result. Investors must consider the stability of the steps to get there,” Jessie argued. “If they don’t have confidence in those processes being completed successfully, then they won’t see a reason to commit the funds.”

  “You’re saying that without major contributions from the downsiders and the commandant withholding JOS construction funds, the station investors don’t have confidence in the eventual deployment of the intravertors,” Harbour reasoned.