by S. H. Jucha
It amazed the administrators that the SADE never set the device down as they journeyed from one dome to another.
After one of the journeys, Tacnock asked Juliette, “You have an energy source, correct?”
“Yes, and you’re about to ask me how long it will last, or when will I need to recharge,” Juliette replied. “The answer is possibly never.”
Daktora rumbled, and the administrators eyed him. “Our visitors have grav technology in their ships,” he explained. “Why shouldn’t the SADEs carry the same tech in their avatars?”
The others glanced at Juliette for confirmation, and she replied, “As long as there’s sufficient gravity to drive my grav cell at a greater rate than my avatar’s energy consumption, I don’t require an outside energy source.”
“Highly efficient,” Bortoth allowed, “but I prefer the joys of consumption.”
“All biologicals do,” Juliette commented.
When the group made the Hyronzy dome, Kasie asked, “Do we travel to the station and the Tsargit?”
“Not yet,” Juliette replied. “We require rooms in this dome.”
Bortoth placed a call to the dome administrator, and that individual led the group below. After rooms were assigned, Juliette carried the relay to the connecting ring. She set it along a relatively undisturbed section of the curved wall and activated it.
When the device’s energizing hum quieted, Juliette confirmed that a signal was generated. Then she stood beside the relay and locked her avatar.
* * * * *
Leslie and Ophelia personally led the tour of Pyre for their visitors. They were on their third day of exploring the planet. The latest stop was a quiet lake surrounded by tall trees and teeming with wildlife and fish.
Olawale had just complimented Leslie and Ophelia on the peaceful serenity of the location, when Esteban said, “Pardon my interruption, Madam President. Olawale, we’ve received a signal.”
“How far?” Olawale asked.
“Four days sailing time,” Esteban replied.
“Excuse me,” Leslie interrupted. “Are you referring to the comm relay signal that Juliette is transmitting?”
“Yes,” Esteban replied. “Juliette would have activated the relay when she reached the Hyronzy system.”
“Four days sailing time,” Ophelia echoed. “I don’t understand how you sail between the stars, but how can your ships possibly cross a distance in days that it took eighty or more dome journeys to cover?”
“We’ve obtained the star coordinates for your home world and that of the Sylians and the Jatouche,” Esteban said. “Now we have the coordinates for the Hyronzy. That race inhabits a system that is much closer than either of the latter two.”
Leslie and Ophelia stared at each other.
“All this time,” Leslie mused.
“Right around the galactic corner, so to speak,” Ophelia finished.
“How soon do you intend to leave?” Leslie asked.
“We’ll return you to the Hall of Delegates and depart from there,” Olawale replied.
Leslie had expected Olawale to reply that they’d require days to complete preparations before departure. It reminded her that challenging circumstances had taught the Omnians to respond quickly to changing events.
“I’m going with you,” Jess declared.
Olawale’s smile displayed bright white teeth in his dark face. “Your company will be welcome, Jess,” he said.
“If you’ll excuse us a moment?” Leslie requested and motioned for Ophelia to follow her. They took a dirt path that wandered around the lake.
“Jess doesn’t have sufficient clout to make a case for our visitors to the various committees of the Tsargit or the council,” Leslie said, when they were far out of the visitors’ hearing range. She held up a hand, when she saw Ophelia ready to object. “I know. I know,” she said. “It’s critical that we have the Tsargit’s collective attention in an accepting mode. Remember how we greeted them. What was Patrice’s word?”
“Interrogation,” Ophelia replied. She understood Leslie’s point. If the visitors became annoyed with the Tsargit, there was nothing to prevent them from sailing for home and leaving the alliance to its fate.
“That’s why I think it best that I travel with them,” Leslie said.
Ophelia stopped, forcing Leslie to halt, and she stared in surprise at her friend. “You’re our president. You’re needed here,” she entreated.
“Do you have a better choice?” Leslie challenged.
Ophelia blinked. She’d walked into the trap. “That’s dirty,” she declared. “You set me up. You knew I’d object to you going and would do anything to keep you in system.”
“So, you’re volunteering?” Leslie inquired. She worked to refrain from smiling, but it was an unnecessary effort. She was sure Ophelia had already sensed her mirth.
“Only in protest and only to keep you planetside,” Ophelia retorted.
“Any questions before you go?” Leslie asked.
“I understand the goal,” Ophelia replied. “We need the visitors’ help with any aspect of the Colony that we can secure. I want to discuss Jess’s reaction to something Lucia said.”
“Which was what?” Leslie queried.
“When Lucia spoke about their losses in taking the Sylian dome, Jess got excited,” Ophelia said. She sought a way to speak about what she knew without revealing that she’d registered Jess’s thought.
Leslie waited patiently for her friend to wrestle with her secret. The two had been as close as sisters for decades. Like sisters, things were understood without them being spoken. Leslie knew that sometimes Ophelia gained more information from someone than could be credited to interpreting emotions. Often, it was too specific. She hoped, one day, Ophelia would feel safe enough to unburden herself to a friend, even if not to her.
“It wasn’t the reaction I expected,” Ophelia continued, “which led me to believe that he had an idea. I can only surmise that he considered supplying the visitors with forces from Pyre or other worlds.”
“Is that a viable idea?” Leslie asked.
“I don’t know,” Ophelia said, in exasperation. She threw her hands into the air, as she walked in a circle. “No ... yes ... maybe,” she said, displaying her frustration. “I’ve never encountered the Colony. As far as I know, our visitors, Jess, Tacnock, and that small group of dome administrators are our new experts.”
“You heard how a few of them referred to Jess,” Leslie said.
“Assault commander,” Ophelia supplied.
“Were they teasing him or were they serious?” Leslie asked.
“They were proud of him,” Ophelia replied, recalling the various emotions she’d registered. It had been curious to her that the commodore had spoken the term wryly, but that wasn’t what she felt. Like the others, she was extremely grateful for Jess’s accomplishments in the Sylian dome.
“Well, you’ll have time to investigate that idea during your trip,” Leslie said. “I’d like to know if additional troops would affect Olawale and Patrice’s decisions to help us take back the domes. In addition, find out from our intrepid captain what type of troops would make acceptable volunteers.”
Ophelia nodded, and Leslie led the way back to Jess and the visitors.
“I’ve chosen to send Commandant Tuttle with you,” Leslie announced to Olawale and Patrice. “She’ll act with my authority and ensure that you meet with the appropriate committees, if not the council. I assume that meets with your approvals.”
“Eminently,” Olawale replied, nodding appreciatively at Ophelia.
“The more the merrier,” Patrice added.
The group boarded the traveler. The president was dropped off at the Hall of Delegates, and the commandant was transported to an open space near her hub, where she could summon a car. Olawale agreed to send a traveler for her the following morning, which allowed time for Ophelia to make preparations for her absence.
The first thing Ophelia did was info
rm Paul Lindstrom that he would be in charge of security while she was gone. He was the officer with the most seniority on her staff.
“How long?” Paul asked.
“Unknown,” Ophelia replied. “This is a job that concerns politics, and you know how much I love that.” She could hear Paul’s hearty chuckle. “I can send cubes to keep you updated.”
“Understood,” Paul replied. “Who are you taking with you?”
“Again, mother?” Ophelia retorted.
“Humor me,” Paul said. “One individual only ... besides, the rank of commandant should be accompanied by an aide. It’s what the Tsargit committees or council would expect. It gives you credence in their eyes or orbs or whatever.”
Ophelia knew she was being maneuvered, but Paul did have a good point.
“One individual,” Ophelia allowed. “Send an officer. Have him or her meet me at my apartment at seven-thirty sharp.”
“Certainly, Commandant,” Paul replied.
The next morning at precisely seven-thirty hours, Ophelia received the building’s security notification on her comm sleeve. It displayed the ID of the caller at the building’s front doors, Lieutenant Aputi Tulafono.
A few minutes later, the lieutenant’s face was again on her comm sleeve. This time he was at her door, and she signaled it aside.
Ophelia took one look at the lieutenant and started laughing. He had to be one of the biggest men she’d ever seen. That he was on Lindstrom’s staff and served on the station was the primary reason she hadn’t met Aputi in person.
“Lieutenant Tulafono reporting for duty, Commandant,” Aputi managed to say. He was embarrassed by the laughter.
“You’re my aide?” Ophelia queried, trying to curtail her laughter.
“Yes, ma’am, those were my orders,” Aputi replied. “According to my instructions, I’m to state that mother has sent me,” he added with a confused expression.
That caused Ophelia to break into another fit of laughter. When she gained control, she said, “Apologies, Lieutenant. Don’t take my reaction personally. Major Lindstrom and I play a game, and he’s won this round.”
Ophelia indicated her bags on the floor. “I’ve ordered a car, which will be here soon. Please pick up a cart from the storage unit at the end of the hall for these.”
“That’s not necessary, ma’am, if you’re ready to go,” Aputi said.
“I am,” Ophelia replied. She watched the lieutenant shift the strap of the heavy duffel he carried from his shoulder to settle across his massive chest. Then he picked up her three bags and stood quietly waiting for her to precede him.
Ophelia smiled to herself. With an incredulous shake of her head, she led the burdened lieutenant out of her apartment and down to the building’s curb.
A four-seat e-trans waited. Ophelia had ordered the larger vehicle to accommodate their gear in the baggage compartment. As she gazed at Aputi, who took up most of the bench seat across from her, she considered her choice of vehicle to be a fortunate one.
“Destination, please,” the e-trans requested.
Ophelia read off the set of landing coordinates that Esteban had placed on her comm sleeve, which had opened her eyes. From her perspective, as head of security, it was evidence that the SADEs weren’t bothered by such things as encryption or privacy.
“There is no structure at that destination. Please confirm,” the car requested.
After Ophelia’s confirmation, the e-trans accelerated smoothly.
“You’re in for several treats and many confusing moments, Lieutenant,” Ophelia said pleasantly. “First, you’re going to ride in an unbelievable shuttle. Second, you’re going to meet our visitors. They’re human, most of them, but in many respects, they’re different from us. Then, third, you and I are going to sail between the stars.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Aputi replied. He had been warned that the trip would be emotionally disconcerting.
Ophelia’s voice hardened, as she said, “You’re to put all that aside, Lieutenant. You’re a Pyrean security officer and my aide, and you will act accordingly.”
“Yes, Commandant,” Aputi snapped in reply and straightened in his seat.
When they reached the small field, which was their destination, the traveler sat waiting.
“It’s a beautiful ship,” Aputi said admiringly. The bright morning light of Crimsa glanced off the traveler’s shell, highlighting its shallow ocean colors.
“There are many things mesmerizing about our visitors,” Ophelia warned. When she saw one individual exit the ship, she said, “That’s Esteban. He’s a SADE, a mobile AI. He’s probably come to help you with our gear.”
Esteban saw Ophelia’s companion hoist baggage from the car’s rear compartment. He came to a halt, when he received a short wave of the hand from the officer, indicating help was unnecessary. Nonetheless, he returned to the hatch steps to assist Ophelia and hand up the luggage, piece by piece, to a crew member.
Ophelia started to introduce her aide, as the hatch closed and the cabin lights dimmed. When she saw the lieutenant tense, anticipating their launch, she said sympathetically, “Relax, Lieutenant. I know this is hard to believe, but we’ve already left the ground. Who knows how high up we are by now?”
“We’re clearing the atmosphere,” Olawale replied, which stunned both Pyreans. “Hello, Lieutenant,” he added, extending his hand. “It’ll be nice to have more company like you at meals. Some of us hate being the last to finish.”
Aputi grinned, as he eyed Olawale’s physique. He still outmassed the expedition leader, but not by much.
-21-
Packeoes
The Crocian Supreme Council, the Norloth, received an urgent report from a station on the system’s fringe. The station’s director announced the arrival of a fleet of ships from outside the system. The ships failed to respond to hails.
The Norloth ordered the ships be contacted by Dantagar Station, which had the system’s most powerful communication equipment and the most diverse group of personnel.
“During the course of the past three days, we’ve tried every form of comm signals that we could generate and with messages in twenty-seven languages,” a Crocian comms specialist from Dantagar reported to the three Norloth members.
“Including human?” Hangar of the Gortha asked.
“Yes, we’ve several humans aboard the station,” the specialist replied.
“Thank you,” Denthra of the Methra said, dismissing the comms specialist after hearing the full report.
“So, nine ships arrive from out of system. Their ships don’t signal one another using alliance protocols. They don’t try to communicate with us, which means they mustn’t possess ear wigs to translate our hails,” Mantoth of the Hagetha summarized.
“I don’t like the look of them,” Denthra said. “They share a single design, which, to me, is impractical. They’re not built for carrying freight or passengers.”
“Could the design be necessary for sailing between the stars, which they must have done?” Hangar hazarded to guess.
“How are we to know?” Mantoth objected. “It would be as likely for us to suppose that the Colony sails these ships.”
“Let’s hope that’s not true,” Hangar retorted, snapping his jaw shut.
“I think it’s none of these conjectures,” Denthra said. “We’re dealing with something new. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that humans arrive searching for their lost colony ship, and these interlopers arrive in our system.”
“But these ships didn’t respond to the humans who hailed them,” Mantoth pointed out.
“I didn’t suggest that humans crewed these ships,” Denthra replied. “I’m saying the two events might not be coincidental. It’s possible that humans stirred up something far from here, and these nine ships sailing here are the result. Remember, it’s reported that the humans who helped the Sylians have fighting ships.”
“If your conjecture proves to be true, then it’s more than likely that these are
also fighting ships,” Mantoth said.
Denthra’s snout tipped up and down. “That’s what worries me, because if that’s the purpose of these ships, they’re monstrous in size.”
“What do you suggest we do?” Hangar asked Denthra, who led the Norloth.
“This fleet has passed by two mining posts and a significant fringe station,” Denthra mused. “Telemetry reports the ships are headed for our planet.”
Denthra stared again at the latest telemetry on the fleet. The nine enormous ships sailed in a wedge. Everything about them, including their formation, appeared menacing to him. “I suggest we get ready to defend Crocia,” he said.
Orders from the Norloth went out to the planet, the dome, the stations, the mining posts, and all ships.
Denthra dictated an emergency message to the Tsargit. While the Norloth wasn’t entirely sure of the fleet’s intention, they told the alliance body of the inability to communicate with the interlopers.
The dome administrator recorded Denthra’s message into a cube and sent it. Then, per the orders he’d received, he sent the same message to Pyre. The Pyrean message held Denthra’s hope that the human visitors could shed some light on the strange and ominous fleet.
Unnecessary personnel were evacuated from Dantagar Station. The non-Crocian individuals had a choice. They could exit the system via the dome or drop planetside, but they had to make their decisions quickly.
It was the same for those operating the dome. Personnel were reduced to a minimum. Cubes were sent to the other ends of the Q-gates, warning of the strange fleet’s approach and the cessation of gate operations until further notice.
After the dome’s exodus was complete, the shuttles launched and made for the nearby station. Behind them, the tubes’ gangways were withdrawn. Then the blast doors were closed, and the hatches were locked.
Ships were rerouted to prevent crossing the fleet’s vector. Most were ore and supply freighters, whose slower velocities necessitated they receive the earliest warnings.
