by S. H. Jucha
“Oh,” Mickey muttered. Then he sent,
Jess sent.
When Mickey heard nothing further from Jess, he decided not to pursue the subject.
Minimalist sent.
Mickey considered the discussion. His priority was providing Alex with a proof of concept that a dome could be relocated to a system outside of alliance space and connected to existing domes. “This is why I’ve stayed out of politics,” he muttered, when he thought of the discussion about Tsargit approval.
Before Mickey could finish his thoughts, Luther sent,
Minimalist added,
The conference call ended, and Luther and Minimalist turned their undivided attention to the dome’s assembly at the new site.
As long as the SADEs and the Crocians ensured that the correct part was recovered from a tunnel or dorm room in the right order, the process was routine. It was just tedious and tiring.
After a third of the dome had been assembled, Bortoth and Captain Horner approached Minimalist.
“Minimalist,” the captain sent over the dedicated comm channel, “we’re going to have to rotate the spacers to the carrier for some rest. They’ve been working too many cycles straight.”
Minimalist considered the problem and chose to apply protective measures.
Afterward, Minimalist informed Luther of his decision to relieve the biologicals.
Luther sent.
Luther interjected.
Luther sent.
The work interruption was fortuitous. Pyreans and Crocians were suffering from fatigue. The rest periods would have only offered temporary relief from the exhausting effort of working cycle after cycle in environment suits.
After ten cycles, half of the Pyreans and the Crocians returned to work. Those crews worked for four cycles, and then they swapped with the other half.
This schedule had been suggested by a Jatouche director, who had examined the test results. The director had kept his opinions from the carrier personnel, but he’d contacted Nalia at the outpost. In turn, Nalia had a conversation with Mickey, Miriam, Jess, and Lucia.
“It’s a learning experience for Luther and Minimalist,” Mickey said. “They won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Mickey was embarrassed. For him, the focus had been on uncovering the Messinant secrets to enable a dome’s relocation, and he’d failed to consider the mixing of SADEs and biologicals on a long-term construction project in space.
“There’ll always be new projects, Mickey,” Lucia pointed out, “and they’ll be bigger and harder. That’s the history and experience of those who follow Alex.”
Mickey nodded his head in agreement. “I pushed too hard,” he admitted.
“I like the Jatouche director’s advice, Mickey,” Jess remarked. “Who would you advise we assign to the role?”
Mickey laughed at the question’s phrasing. It could have easily been considered rhetorical. “I’ll notify Pia that she has a new job,” he said. “In the future, we’ll need to work with medical personnel who have multi-race experience.”
When Mickey finished his last comment, he belatedly caught the smiles on Jess and Lucia’s faces.
“I’ll contact the Jatouche medical station,” Jess said. “Pia can handle the job at Re-Gen in the interim. Then the station will send a medical director to relieve her. Afterward, another director will rotate to the site.”
“I’m concerned Luther and Minimalist will take the presence of Pia and Jatouche medical directors as a rebuke,” Mickey said.
Mickey frowned at Miriam, who had made the connection with Luther and Minimalist as they entered the commander’s suite.
Pia arrived at Re-Gen by Trident, and it amused the SADEs that Edmas, Jodlyne, and Kasie accompanied her.
While Pia’s traveler dropped her at the carrier, the pilot continued on to Re-Gen to deliver the other three passengers.
Pia’s first duties were to organize the medical staff to deliver the regimens that the Pyreans and the Crocians required. In her interviews with the Crocians, she discovered that they consumed as much paste as they could tolerate until the dome was shut down. When meals were delivered from the carrier, they found the quantities inadequate.
Pia charged the food servers with supplying community table trays to the Crocians.
“They’ve merely requested a second tray,” the Earther who managed the meal room, pointed out.
“Despite their intimidating size and appearance, Ser,” Pia said, “you’ll find them to be a generous race. I suspect they were too polite to order additional food. Deliver food until you see it’s not consumed. That will tell you their limits.”
At the next meal, the servers placed empty Méridien-sized plates in front of the Crocian engineers and techs, who stared in concern at one another.
Then trays heaped with food were set in the middle of the tables, and the Crocians’ eyes gleamed. Generous serving utensils sat at the edge of the trays.
A tech reached for a tray and extended it across the table to Bortoth, who quickly filled his plate, while rumbling contentedly.
Around the tables, the trays were swiftly emptied, as plates were filled again and again.
Not wanting to be caught lacking again, the meal room manager kept an eye on Bortoth’s table. Seeing the contents of the trays being devoured, he ordered more trays prepared for every Crocian table.
Every now and then, a Crocian burp or two would shake the air, and the spacers would raise their cups and cheer. In turn, the Crocians roared in pleasure.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a ruckus at mealtime,” a female server said to the manager.
“I think we better get used to it,” the manager replied. “As it pertains to the Crocians, I was caught napping.”
“There’s a lot to learn about these new races,” the female admitted.
“Well, my mistake was that I thought they would tell me their needs. After all, they’re the advanced race,” the manager said. “The lesson learned is to interview every new race. In advance, I need to know their preferred foods and drinks, the quantities they need, and anything they mustn’t consume.”
Pia received the meal manager’s report. The Earther communicated that the Crocians would be served a quantity of food approximately twice that of the heavy-worlders that they had been prepared to feed.
Down below, Daktora, who headed half the Crocian team, roared in pleasure at the sight of Edmas, Jodlyne, and Kasie.
The engineers balled their fists and thumped the Crocian’s heavy chest, and he rumbled contentedly.
Kasie sent a wave of appreciation that inundated Daktora and her companions. As Daktora’s eyes closed to enjoy the flush of warmth that swept through his mind, Kasie chuckled, reached up, and rubbed the top of Daktora’s long scaly snout.
With rest periods and sufficient food, work on the dome’s assembly resumed at a faster pace, which Luther and Minimalist noted.
There came a time, when the last structure, which was the dome’s console, was fitted into place. Only one more connection needed to be made.
For the event, the dome’s platform deck was crowded with Luther, Minimalist, many Crocian engineers, Pyrean captains and their crew chiefs, and the four investigators. Pia had dropped from the carrier to witness the occasion.
It had been Luther’s thought that the moon’s immediate area should be evacuated.
Minimalist had responded,
Luther didn’t have an adequate response. So, he acquiesced to the multiple requests to be present when the console was powered.
Travelers had spent the early morning transferring the resting crews and some Earthers from the carrier to the site. Those individuals stood on the mounds of regolith that ringed the pit that had been dug for the dome.
In the initial planning, it had been decided not to backfill the excavation site. This fit with the choice not to fuse the regolith surrounding the posts. As Luther had pointed out, the dome would either be returned to its original site or transported from the present system.
The captains had drawn lots for the privilege that had been offered them. Captain Yolandra had won.
The event was being shared with the outpost and those aboard the carriers. Work had halted to watch the dramatic moment.
“Ready,” Yolandra affirmed.
Yolandra bent down, picked up the seemingly empty hose, and slid it over the console’s receptacle. Then she triggered the small Messinant device that had been tucked in a pouch. In a repetition of the action on Triton centuries ago, the console powered.
From the deck’s ring, the shimmering blue light sprang to merge and complete the hemisphere. After a brief pause, the strong swirl of air sucked the dust from the enclosed area, cleaning the environment suits in the process.
When the whirlwind subsided, Luther tested the air. Its quality was improving, and he waited until it reached satisfactory oxygen levels before he signaled that faceplates could be retracted.
Inside and outside the dome, aboard ships, and at the outpost, the cheering, applauding, and roaring were deafening.
Amid the cacophony, Kasie raced to the console and pulled a message cube from the cabinets. Then she gestured hurriedly to Pia.
“I didn’t do so well last time,” Kasie said to Pia. “You do this one.”
Pia smiled at Kasie’s anxious face. She thought for a moment and then nodded to Kasie.
When Kasie’s gloved finger pointed at her, Pia said, “We dedicate this message to those who worked so hard to prove that a dome could be relocated. We hope our efforts bring the galaxy’s races closer together.”
Kasie ran to the platform to deposit the cube, and Edmas accessed the secondary panel.
When Kasie stepped away from the platform, Edmas fired the gate. The blue light rushed from the platform, merged with the hemisphere, and the cube disappeared.
There was another round of celebration.
Minimalist sent privately to Luther,
Minimalist heard Luther’s triumphant wail of sirens.
Those on the Re-Gen deck waited for the cube’s return. It was slightly delayed. Then bright blue light connected the overhead to the platform and the cube appeared.
Luther recovered the cube and set it atop the console.
Edmas selected the submenu to play the cube.
From the cube, the audience heard Mickey say, “May your wish for the races be granted, my partner.”
The onlookers clapped, shouted, and roared in appreciation.
“You’re definitely better than me at this, Pia,” Kasie said, and her delight swept across the deck.
22: Méridien
“I can’t say I’m looking forward to this presentation,” Alex grumbled, as the fleet emerged from its transit into Méridien space.
“What troubles you, my love?” Renée inquired, as they dressed for morning meal.
“I regret inviting the entire council last time we were here,” Alex replied. “I said it to quiet Gino’s fears about leaving the council in the hands of others for the length of time he’d be gone.”
“You worry that the number will make conclave dialogue unwieldy?” Renée inquired.
“Yes. It would be no different if Jess brought the entire Tsargit,” Alex replied.
“He might,” Renée said, laughing. “You didn’t give him specific parameters.”
Alex frowned. Concerns about the alliance briefly troubled his thoughts, and then he shook them off. “He won’t,” he replied. “He’s dealing with the same dilemma that I’m about to encounter.”
“How do you get a fair representation without everyone joining us?” Renée inquired.
“Exactly the problem. Whatever the chosen method, I need a small group of Leaders who are given authority to negotiate,” Alex pointed out.
As the couple left the suite for morning meal, Renée’s implant accepted a link from Julien.
At the table, Alex noticed that Z and Miranda had taken positions behind Renée and him. They inhabited their Cedric and Frederica avatars. The message that the SADEs intimated wasn’t lost on Alex, and, for once, he wasn’t arguing.
On the last visit to Méridien, there’d been a clash with Darse Lemoyne and Lawrence Teressi at an event hosted by Gino. The two Leaders were antagonists of the individuals who Alex supported, and their hatred for Alex was palpable.
Before the arguments ended, Gino had warned the two Leaders that at the next Council meeting he planned to call for their censure and request the Council vote to expel them from representation. He promised that if his motion was accepted, their Houses would be forced to select new Leaders.
