by S. H. Jucha
“You won’t for journeys to your dome, for obvious reasons,” Juliette replied. “However, you can demonstrate to your satisfaction that you can’t send anything through the gate from here.”
The journeyers were halted again, and Juliette accessed the sub-layer, halting the console’s normal processes. She selected the Colony gate and disabled its operation. Then she backed out to the master panel’s primary menu.
The dome administrators and operators, who had watched, were shocked by the ease with which it had been done. Then again, it was only easily accomplished if you knew about the sub-layer’s existence and knew how to access it.
Kroctic shook himself from his daze, ordered his operators to resume their positions, and told the journeyers that the delays were finished.
“Juliette, how long did it take you to discover this?” Kroctic asked.
“Nearly two days,” Juliette replied. “Had we access to more SADEs or controllers, we might have accomplished it sooner.”
Juliette sounded apologetic. Tacnock chittered. Kasie laughed. The Crocians rumbled, and Salsinona growled. Kroctic said nothing. He was thunderstruck.
“Would you like to test the results?” Juliette politely inquired.
Kroctic nodded and used his ear wig to contact dome security. The head of security bounded up the ramp, and Kroctic explained what he needed. He had to repeat his request twice to the stunned security head.
Finally, understanding was achieved, if dubiously. The auto-operated energy weapons surrounding the Colony gate were shut off. An empty cube was set on the platform, and Kroctic tapped the panel, which controlled the gate. It wouldn’t light. He tapped it again, with the same result.
“What will the Colony see on their side?” Kroctic asked.
“Another astute question,” Juliette replied, “and the answer to that one will have to wait until you can occupy the connecting dome and observe the panel for yourself.”
As a precaution, the security head activated the energy weapon enclosure around the Colony gate before he retired below.
“When was the last attempt by the Colony?” Tacnock asked.
“Their test occurs about every quarter annual. They send a cube now,” Kroctic replied. “After a brief moment, they recall it. Of course, they receive only a small amount of ash.”
“Then, in another half annual, you can be certain that what Juliette has demonstrated in the sub-layer is viable,” Tacnock said.
Kroctic nodded, accepting the reasoning. Then he extended a furred, padded hand to Juliette. “For any disrespect my greeting implied, I’m sorry,” he said.
“Not to worry, Kroctic,” Tacnock interjected. “The SADEs are extremely tolerant of the foibles of biologicals.” He chittered at his own remark.
“Are we done here?” Kasie asked. “I want to demonstrate these operations to the Triton operators.”
“Then we return,” Juliette said, but not before gently accepting Kroctic’s outstretched hand.
After arriving in the Triton dome, the local administrator and operators were assembled, one of whom had to be awoken from her sleep. Kasie had the opportunity to play her comm unit recording and demonstrate the sub-layer access. She was the moment’s sensation, but she continually credited the Omnian SADEs.
At first, the administrator and the operators were intimidated by the concept of a mobile AI, but the defenders’ close familiarity with Juliette allayed their concerns. By the time Kasie finished demonstrating to them what the SADEs had discovered, they were patting Juliette’s shoulders and lauding her accomplishments.
-19-
Hall of Delegates
“Commandant, have you received an update from the president’s office?” Major Paul Lindstrom asked.
“The president called me directly,” Ophelia Tuttle replied.
“What do you think we should do?” Paul asked.
“About what?” Ophelia replied.
“We know nothing about these visitors, and the president is planning to meet with them,” Paul said, with concern. “It’s possible that she could be in danger.”
“Paul, the visitors are sailing starships,” Ophelia said. “They brought our people from the Sylian home world. Who knows how far that is from here? They launched a shuttle from below the ecliptic and made Triton Medical Station in less than three hours. According to Jess Cinders, they can land their shuttles without scorch marks. Something was said about grav drives. Just what kind of security do you think we could offer the president, if she even chose to take it, which would be effective against whatever they might want to do?”
“Well, when you put it that way, probably nothing,” Paul admitted. “Are you going to be at the meeting?”
“Absolutely,” Ophelia replied. “If nothing else, I don’t want to miss this supposedly miraculous landing. Paul, I want you to remember that we have one major thing in our favor. Kasie has spent significant time with the visitors. If she had any concerns, Jess or she would have found a way to warn us.”
“What if it’s a matter of Kasie’s power and sensitivity?” Paul asked. “She’s not got your capabilities. No one else is the great-granddaughter of Sasha Garmenti.”
“Every empath today is strong enough to sense the emotions of any sentient we’ve ever encountered,” Ophelia replied. “These are humans. They won’t be unique. As a descendant of Aurelia Garmenti, Kasie has more than enough capability to detect any dichotomy between their words and their feelings.”
“Will you be taking a security team with you to the meeting?” Paul pressed, trying once more to get Ophelia to take his concerns seriously.
“No, mother, I won’t be taking an escort,” Ophelia replied tartly.
Paul had heard Ophelia call him that a few times before. It was her way of saying that she’d heard enough, and he was to cease and desist. In truth, he accepted the name proudly. He thought of himself as her elder brother, and he saw that part of his job was to look out for her.
Ophelia ended the call with Paul and finished dressing. She used her comm unit to call a car. The communication device wrapped around the lower sleeve of her uniform. Its wafer-thin body was fed power by the solar-collective fabric. Her uniform’s jacket doubled as an antenna.
By the time Ophelia exited her generous-sized apartment, the e-trans was waiting. The door of the cylindrically shaped vehicle slid aside at her approach.
“Destination,” the vehicle requested.
“Hall of Delegates,” Ophelia replied.
“Estimated arrival time is two hours and twenty-three minutes,” the vehicle replied, as the door slid closed. It accelerated and followed its guidance program.
After navigating a few ped-paths to clear the hub, which encompassed Ophelia’s building, the e-trans climbed a ramp and halted. There was a short wait. Then Ophelia’s car, along with several others, linked with a train of cars that had exited to add and release cars. Afterwards, the line of vehicles moved off the spur and onto a maglev rail. From there, the train achieved enormous speed. Its next stop would be the seat of the Pyrean government.
The nearly transparent canopy of Ophelia’s e-trans gave her a wonderful view of the countryside. Everywhere she looked were swaths of green.
The hundreds of intravertors supplied by the Jatouche and paid for by the Tsargit had fed on the planet’s surface heat to power their cleaning of the atmosphere’s noxious gases, dust, and ash.
When conditions were tolerable for shuttle landings, the first engineers were sent planetside to prospect for water. To the population’s delight, the engineers found an abundant number of deep pools and aquifers. The downsiders’ domes had depended on this same source of water for centuries.
Before settlers were allowed on the surface, the assembly laid out strict guidelines for the planting of crops, orchards, and gardens. Water was considered a precious resource, and its usage was strictly regulated.
The early settlers planted every meter of their property. Historically, it was known as T
he Greening.
The domes had a bounty of pollinators. It was an easy matter to remove the domes’ airlocks and some upper panels to allow the birds and insects to migrate to the new plantings. The first land to be developed started in close proximity to the domes and spread outward.
It was nearly two hundred years after the first explorers received the Tsargit’s awards for their efforts that the majority of the planet saw some manner of development — agricultural, industrial, residential, and office retail.
Residences and office-retail spaces were mixed in among buildings that formed hubs. This facilitated quick access for the residents to their work, entertainment, and supplies without the need for transport. Mobile ped-paths connected a hub’s buildings above and below the surface.
In the last two centuries, Jatouche scientists had helped Pyreans develop the Honora Belle’s genetic stores. The eggs and sperm of Earth’s species had been kept frozen in nitrogen for nearly eight centuries. The starting processes took place on the Triton Medical Station. After fertilization, the embryos were developed in artificial wombs. Soon after birth, the young were raised in various incubator locations around the planet and released at the appropriate ages.
The entire venture was timed to the growth of large swaths of forests that climbed the slopes of the planet’s hills and mountains. The Greening had led to the development of moisture in the atmosphere and the formation of cloud layers and seasonal rains.
Over time, creatures large and small populated the planet. Earth’s great creatures, such as bears, wolves, elk, and deer, to name a few, found new homes light-years from their native world.
Only Earth’s ocean dwellers remained in the frozen tanks. Despite the formation of streams, rivers, and lakes, seas had yet to form on Pyre. It was thought that huge amounts of ice from the belts would be required to develop deep bodies of water — a prohibitively expensive undertaking.
Ophelia availed herself of a cold drink and a piece of fresh fruit from the server compartment, while she watched the landscape roll past. She recalled tales from her great-grandparents, Imian Tuttle and Sasha Garmenti. Despite the passage of time, she was afforded the opportunity to know the elderly individuals for many years, due to the Jatouche, who introduced telomere lengthening to the Pyreans, which greatly extended the population’s lives.
Imian and Sasha told tales of hard lives, while permanently living aboard a station or a ship, such as the Honora Belle. Ophelia couldn’t imagine that kind of life. The thought of not being surrounded by greenery, seeing living creatures, and breathing fresh air made her shudder.
Sasha Garmenti’s daughter, a powerful empath and Ophelia’s grandmother, was the last Harbour. By then, the empaths were well-established in the alliance community and accepted by all races for their assets in medical services.
Empaths’ power never ceased to grow from generation to generation. In Sasha’s day, she rivaled nearly every empath, except Envoy Harbour. By the time Sasha was an adult, her capabilities exceeded even Harbour’s. However, she never became the next Harbour. Her personality wasn’t suited for the job.
Stationers and spacers never had much love for downsiders, especially the families and their iron-fisted rule. However, that wasn’t true for Sasha’s partner, Imian Tuttle, who was the son of a family head. He should have been despised, but two things negated those opinions. First, Imian was instrumental in swaying votes in the domes for Pyre’s first president and first assembly. Second, Imian’s calm demeanor balanced Sasha’s mercurial personality. For that, stationers and spacers were eternally grateful.
Ophelia was incredibly gifted with empathetic senses. In her teenage years, she witnessed another side of her capability’s development. Every so often, she could detect the thoughts of another. It usually happened when emotions were at a peak, such as when the individual was angry, distraught, or deliriously happy. Not that the thoughts came through in the clear and in total. It was more like overhearing a phrase from a passerby.
This one-way telepathic ability grew in strength, resulting in better clarity, but it remained inconsistent. Some individuals could be read more easily than others. She found the criminally minded some of the easiest to read. Many of them had insinuated themselves into the lives of those aboard the JOS and the YIPS, Yellen-Inglehart Processing Station. In addition, descendants of the dome’s powerful families fell into this category. These individuals detested their toppling from the upper strata of Pyrean society. The great irony was that she was a descendant of one of the families.
A soft alarm woke Ophelia, who’d enjoyed a peaceful nap. The column of cars slowed and exited a side track. Many of the vehicles uncoupled and slid down a ramp. Then they dispersed.
Gone were the orchards, crop fields, and forests. Ophelia’s e-trans wandered along ped-paths into the middle of Pyre’s seat of government.
Ophelia addressed her vehicle. “Priority, Commandant Tuttle,” she said.
“Passenger identified,” the e-trans replied. “Please state request.”
“Underground access to the Hall of Delegates,” Ophelia replied.
“Proceeding accordingly,” the car replied. At the next opportunity, it turned right onto another ped-path, passed a security checkpoint, relaying its priority passenger, and slid down a ramp into the Hall of Delegates lower levels.
Security was notified of the commandant’s arrival, and they saluted her as she exited her car. Then Ophelia entered a lift that had been made available to her. She kept her mental gates tightly closed. It was too easy for her to sense emotions and read thoughts that she’d rather not know unless it was an investigation.
The lift deposited Ophelia on the fourth floor, which held the offices of the president and her cabinet. She exited to the left. The president’s aide greeted her and told her that she was expected and could go right in.
“Hello, Ophelia,” Leslie said, rising and greeting her friend with a hug. “I knew you wouldn’t miss the visitors’ approach.”
“A strange set of circumstances,” Ophelia opined. “If we hadn’t received the news from our own people, I wouldn’t have assigned them any credence.”
“While you were on your way here, I heard from Triton Station,” Leslie said. “One of their shuttles landed aboard the station, and the passengers entered our dome for a journey to Rissness. According to communications, the group comprised Kasie, one visitor, and other dome administrators. The visitor intends to permanently block the Colony gate at Rissness.”
“Could they have learned how to do this in the Sylian dome?” Ophelia asked.
“No idea,” Leslie replied. “They said the visitor had an unusual appearance.”
“Unusual how?” Ophelia queried.
“Maybe that wasn’t the right word,” Leslie said. “She was said to appear unnaturally beautiful, like something from a children’s tale.”
“Hmm,” Ophelia replied and chuckled. “I could use a little of that.”
“Get in line ... your president is first,” Leslie retorted, laughing.
“How much longer?” Ophelia asked, pointing a finger skyward.
Leslie consulted her sleeve’s comm unit. “They should be entering orbit soon,” she replied. “I’ve no idea how long it will take them to drop through the atmosphere. If we consider the report from Triton, I expect it to be quick, and I, for one, don’t intend to miss the landing.”
Then Leslie collected some personal items, hooked Ophelia’s arm, and swept the pair of them out of the office. When they reached the first floor, they crossed the hall’s rotunda, exited the building, and came to a halt.
“Looks like we’re the first to arrive,” Ophelia remarked sarcastically.
The building’s broad cascade of steps was crowded with delegates, administration staff, service personnel, media, and security. Media drones floated overhead.
“Word seems to have circulated,” Leslie commented and then grinned at Ophelia.
While the visitors’ reception audience w
aited, discussions speculated about the state of Earth, the nature of the human colonies, the existence of warships, and the possibilities of possessing fantastic technology. Also shared were concerns about the visitors’ intentions.
Leslie and Ophelia stood at the top of the steps. At a quiet word from Ophelia, security politely cleared a corridor from them to the bottom.
The steps ended at a ped-path, which provided a wide circular approach to the front of the building. Encircled by the ped-path was a carefully maintained wildflower garden, rich with blooms and pollinators.
“It’ll be a shame to lose that beautiful garden,” Ophelia remarked.
“It can be replanted,” Leslie replied. “This event is too important to worry about things like that.”
“There it is!” someone in the audience shouted.
Eyes didn’t have to strain long to locate the blue, green, and white hull of the ship that quickly filled the view. Then like it had reached the end of a tether, it stopped a meter and a half above the garden.
“Okay, I’m impressed,” Ophelia muttered. She glanced at Leslie, who belatedly closed her open mouth.
The audience was stunned, much like Leslie and Ophelia. They were utterly quiet, watching the shuttle hover in the air without engine or jet exhaust.
“It’s exquisite in both form and finish,” Leslie managed to finally say.
A hatch seam appeared, and then it folded down.
Jess was the first to exit. He jumped lightly from the hatch’s final step to the ped-path. Spreading his arms wide to the audience, he shouted, “For me, Madam President? You shouldn’t have.”
The gathering erupted into laughter and cheers. After thinking Jess was lost, one of their own had made it home, and he arrived under unbelievable circumstances.
“He was right,” Patrice whispered to Olawale. “A bit of humor goes a long way.”
“He knows his people,” Olawale replied, “and he seems to be a popular personality.”
One by one, Jess introduced Olawale and Patrice, as they stepped off the traveler. He accomplished it with a touch of fanfare, and he had the audience applauding.
