by S. H. Jucha
“I would suggest a few more details,” Franz said. “We place our drones near some of the Arcus’s launch bays. We can’t cover them all, but I’m sure the effort won’t be lost on the Deloy. Then the crewed travelers can form a loose sphere at a distance that will enable them to flee, if the Arcus is seen to launch drones.”
“Good points, Franz,” Tatia acknowledged, “but that wasn’t my question.” She continued to stare quietly at Alex.
Alex was careful not to issue a resigned sigh. He gazed at the faces around him. Like Tatia, every individual quietly regarded him, and Renée had ceased the ministrations on his shoulders and stepped beside him.
“Let’s hear your suggestions,” Alex offered.
Accompanying Julien’s comments was a brief vid. Alex stood atop the ramparts of an ancient castle. Down below, his staff tossed spears, shot arrows, and threw stones in an effort to breach the castle. None of their efforts managed to reach the top of the massive granite walls.
True to Julien’s words, Renée, Tatia, Reiko, and Franz glanced at one another in consternation. They’d expected to hear Alex’s plan and argue the specifics with him. They weren’t prepared to offer their own ideas.
Alex heard Renée’s soft chuckle. He glanced at her and a grin briefly crossed his face, but he continued to wait.
Cordelia’s silver bells caught everyone’s attentions. “So many strong human personalities and so few comments,” she said. “Perhaps the SADEs should be queried for their opinions.”
Renée nodded, accepting Cordelia’s wisdom. In turn, Cordelia glanced toward Julien.
“Under the circumstances of first contact and an antagonist with powerful drones, only one person qualifies to communicate with the Deloy,” Julien said.
“Why can’t Alex speak through a SADE, who would meet with the Elvian leader?” Renée asked.
“More than likely, we’ll be able to relay to the traveler that lands aboard the Arcus,” Julien replied. “However, there’s no guarantee that the SADE and the traveler will remain linked at the distances that are presented by that ship.”
“Then you’re saying that only Alex qualifies to meet with the Deloy,” Tatia pressed.
“I am; we are,” Julien replied.
Renée wanted to ask why she couldn’t be the one to go, but she knew better. The elasticity of Alex’s thinking allowed him to deal effectively with new aliens.
“How do you intend to protect Alex from the bots ... and himself?” Tatia asked, eyeing the SADEs.
“We’ll protect the dear man,” Miranda replied. She’d indicated her partner with a casual hand.
Now it was Alex’s turn to frown. He visualized walking into the Deloy’s presence accompanied by two SADEs in monstrous avatars.
On the other hand, Renée and Tatia were grinning.
“Perfect,” Renée announced. “Now, no one is entirely satisfied with the plan. That means we’ve got balance.” She leaned over and kissed Alex’s frowning forehead, which remained wrinkled.
“Miranda and Z, would you consider changing into alternate avatars?” Alex queried.
“You don’t think this feminine enough?” Miranda asked, with an innocent expression. She accompanied her question with a full extension of massive arms and a delicate pirouette on the ball of one foot.
“No comment,” Alex replied.
“Smart human,” Z quipped.
“What’s the plan if your meeting gets blown out the airlock?” Tatia asked.
Alex regarded Tatia for a long moment. Then he said, “You can’t let those fighters exit the Arcus. They’re too dangerous.”
“Detonate them with our drones?” Tatia asked.
The bridge audience heard Renée’s sharp intake of breath, and Julien hurriedly said, “The probability of Vyztram launching the ship’s drones with our travelers stationed outside is extremely low. The AI knows what would happen. The SADEs have every expectation that, while this initial meeting might not go well, it’s expected that Alex, Miranda, and Z will be allowed to leave peacefully.”
Renée wanted to ask Julien if he believed that or was trying to calm her, but she knew he wouldn’t fabricate probabilities to please her. The thought calmed her.
Cordelia facilitated a conference link with Deirdre and Darius to facilitate Tatia’s huddle with the admirals. They planned the commands’ maneuvers and when and how the travelers would be dispersed.
Cordelia selected several SADEs to help her with managing the traveler drones that would be launched from the city-ship. These would be the critical assets that guarded the launch bays of the Arcus.
Miranda and Z hurried belowdecks to the engineering bays. By the time they arrived, SADEs had designed and produced insulation material in liquid form.
The liquid was loaded into an applicator, and a SADE coated Miranda’s and Z’s avatars, one at a time, from the neck down. When the first coat solidified, the engineering SADE applied three more coats.
Miranda and Z tested the movement of their Cedric and Frederica avatars after each coat. The clear material allowed the visual sensors to see through the insulation. However, their avatars’ arm and hand weapons were blocked, which annoyed Z.
Alex and Renée retreated to the owner’s suite. It was her opportunity to vent, and he knew it.
While Alex took time to use the refresher, he waited for his partner to speak. That she didn’t say a word bothered him. When he stepped from the refresher, he found her sitting on the bed next to a fresh pair of clothes.
Quietly, Alex dressed. When he was done, he folded Renée into his arms and held her.
“Come back to me, my love,” Renée said, whispering into Alex’s chest. His murmured answer rumbled his chest and her ear.
Alex kissed the top of Renée’s head and exited the suite. He located Miranda and Z in engineering, and he signaled that he was headed for the launch bays.
Alex could imagine the debate. Franz might have been the rear admiral responsible for the fleet’s travelers, but he often insisted on being in the most precarious parts of the formation. In addition, if Alex was placed in danger by boarding an alien ship, Franz believed he was the best pilot for the job. Admittedly, he was the best pilot in the fleet.
For Franz, his challenge was communicating effectively to Tatia, his superior, and Reiko, his partner, that he should be piloting Alex’s traveler.
Alex was tempted to select his own pilot, but that would only upset a delicate situation. Soon after he arrived on the uppermost launch deck, Miranda and Z joined him.
“Interesting new fashion,” Alex commented, eyeing the newly sprayed avatars. “Do you think it will catch on?”
“Not for my designs,” Z grumbled. “Our weapons are blocked.”
“Probably not, Alex,” Miranda said. “However, it does give me some ideas for the surfacing of my next avatar.”
“I hope not a bigger one,” Alex quickly responded.
Miranda chuckled, content to let Alex’s imagination ruminate on the possible avatars Z and she might build.
The three of them stood quietly in the corridor, as SADEs and humans hurried past them to prep the drones for launch.
There was no need for Alex to update his companions as to why they were waiting. Cordelia would have taken care of that.
Alex signaled his companions, pivoted, and headed toward a lift to drop down another level. He linked with Cordelia and Tatia to follow the fleet’s movements.
The admirals decided that it was critical to leave the Freedom in its present position. It would be a signal to Vyztram that Alex’s intention to
solve the problem peacefully was still in effect.
Alex and the SADEs met Franz outside the launch bay. He regarded Franz and said, “One of these days, you’re going to lose the argument, or, if you win, you might lose your title or your partner.”
“Probably both,” Franz remarked. He grinned, not fazed by the arguments of others against what he believed were his duties to perform.
Alex grinned in reply. Both of them were guilty of embracing the requirements of their consciences regardless of the possible outcomes.
Franz briefly glanced at the slick surfaces of the SADEs’ avatars. “Did you get an opportunity to test the application’s effectiveness?”
“Insufficient time,” Miranda replied.
“And unnecessary,” Z added.
Inside the bay, a shuttle version of the travelers waited. The rear ramp was lowered.
Alex and Franz climbed aboard first. After Miranda and Z ascended the ramp, Z signaled it closed, and the SADEs locked their avatars.
Franz linked with Cordelia, who fed him the status of the Trident commands.
The fleet’s tri-hulled warships sailed toward the belt. The course was an arc that would take the ships near the Arcus before they entered the relative safety of the belt.
Franz launched his fighter and joined the commands as they swept past.
Midway through the arc, each Trident launched two of its four travelers, and Franz nestled his fighter among them.
The paths of the fighters and Tridents diverged, and the travelers made for the Arcus.
As the fighters approached the host ship, they separated and took up their assigned positions, as communicated by Cordelia. The Omnian drones were positioned outside of launch bays where some of the Arcus drones were expected to appear.
* * * * *
Vyztram said urgently to a staff attendant.
“Again?” the annoyed attendant asked.
“What are you talking about?” inquired the frustrated attendant.
“Another rebellion?” the attendant asked, suddenly alarmed.
The attendant ran to the wide doors of the Deloy’s sleeping quarters. She halted at the access panel and lightly touched the icon to play the room’s soft melody. She waited, but there was no response. Selecting another icon, which played slightly more insistent tones, the attendant failed to see the doors slide aside or hear her mistress’s voice.
“Dampeth,” the attendant murmured. The Deloy had taken to occasionally consuming the powerful psychedelic. As she’d recently retired, she’d be incapacitated for a while.
Unsure of what to do next, the attendant communicated to Vyztram. “At this time, the Deloy is unavailable,” she said to the AI.
The attendant stammered, “I ... she ... I didn’t talk to her.”
“I couldn’t rouse her from her sleep,” the attendant cried out. She was distraught at the thought that her life might end because the Deloy was incapacitated.
“Yes. What do we do?” the attendant pleaded.
This is the problem, Vyztram thought. Hundreds of thousands of Elvians and only one leader. There was no official alternate to the Deloy’s rulings.
As Vyztram considered the circumstances, it occurred to the AI that the Deloy’s absence might work in the ship’s favor.
8: Unavailable
Dafine, the central core’s rep leader, was notified by Yemerth, another core rep, of the external visuals relayed throughout the ship. He called Yemerth and Famgore, the other reps of the core’s triad, to his side. They examined the images of the foreign fleet’s fighters.
Moments before Dafine contacted the AI for more information, he heard,
“The other reps are with me, Vyztram,” Dafine said, which the AI knew. The rep leader’s comment gave Vyztram permission to address Yemerth and Famgore.
Vyztram said, which the AI knew to be the truth. This feigning ignorance on the extent to which Vyztram followed the passengers’ actions was a core priority. The Elvians were not to be made aware of the AI’s omniscient overview of their lives.
“What’s going on?” Yemerth asked.
The AI heard the sudden intakes of breaths from the reps, who were shocked that one of the Arcus’s drones could be defeated. In their lifetimes, none had been destroyed.
“What has the Deloy said?” Famgore asked.
“Vyztram, why are you speaking to us and not the Deloy?” Dafine asked.
Vyztram explained.
“How can the Deloy be —” Dafine said and then halted. “Dampeth,” he swore.
Vyztram replied.
“If these are fighters, why are they surrounding our ship and not attacking?” Yemerth inquired.
“Hold on that question,” Dafine interrupted. “We’ve been kept in the dark, Vyztram. Educate us.”
Vyztram summarized the events that had recently occurred.
“Then you’ve spoken with their leader,” Dafine said hopefully, seizing on the AI’s contact with the fleet’s lead ship.
“Do these SADEs have significant capability?” Famgore asked.
“Amazing,” Famgore commented. He wondered what Vyztram thought of the possibility of being mobile. It surprised him that he’d never thought to ask the AI the question.
“Vyztram, return to Yemerth’s question,” Dafine requested.
“Those ships attacked our harvesters,” Yemerth pointed out.
“We’ve defended our harvesters before,” Dafine reasoned. “The difference with our present circumstances is that we’re facing a foe with sophisticated technology.”
“If this fleet isn’t local, why are they here?” Famgore inquired.
“So, now we’re surrounded by this fleet’s fighters. Why?” Dafine asked.
Vyztram replied, pretending to think through the troubles.
“But ... but —” Yemerth said, struggling to express her panic.
“What’s the second reason?” Famgore queried.
Vyztram replied.
“For what reason?” Dafine inquired.
Vyztram could hear the whispers exchanged by the reps.
Dafine was the voice of reason and caution, but Yemerth and Famgore urged their leader to be bold.
Through the room’s cameras, the AI saw Dafine use his hands to request the other reps to cease and desist. Then he asked, “Vyztram, would the fleet leaders accept a meeting with us in place of the Deloy?”
Vyztram replied.
Vyztram observed the reps whisper again. They’d be surprised to know that the AI could hear every word.
“Vyztram, we could tell the leaders that we’ve been delegated to speak for her,” Yemerth volunteered.
Vyztram replied.
The reps finally reached the point that the AI wanted when Famgore said, “Vyztram, we’re out of ideas. What do you suggest?”
Vyztram said.
