Noah's Ark

by Vijaya Schartz

  Three raised their hands, Tabor, Cheng and Kostas.

  “Who votes for Professor McLure?”

  McLure raised his hand and ten other councilors with him.

  “Who votes for me?” Trixie raised her hand and counted ten other members doing the same... Tom, a number of women and other crew members.

  “Well, then we have a tie between Professor McLure and myself.”

  “Not quite,” Kostas cut in. He grabbed the tablet from the table and tabbed a few keys. “The way I understand the charter, I may now give my votes to support the candidate of my choice.” He slid the tablet in front of Trixie.

  “Correct.” Trixie's cheeks heated and she hoped it didn't show. She'd forgotten that particular detail, but apparently Kostas had known this all along.

  “Do you see what I mean when I say some rules are ridiculous?” McLure's annoyed tone bordered on disparaging. “I suggest we take another vote without Kostas in the equation.”

  “That will not be necessary.” Kostas gave McLure a mirthless grin. “Last time I checked, the rules of the charter still apply. Of the two candidates, I support the captain who landed us safely under the direst of circumstances, rather than the man who, just yesterday on the ship, would have sacrificed Human lives to protect his scientific experiment.” He took a deep breath. “I hereby transfer my three votes in favor of Trixie.”

  Cheng and Tabor, supporters of Kostas, nodded approval.

  Surprised and tongue-tied, Trixie couldn't find the words. Despite his former criticism, Kostas trusted her! Or did he think he could manipulate her?

  Kostas grinned. “That gives Trixie fourteen votes against eleven for Professor McLure. Trixie is now our legitimate and uncontested council leader.”

  Overwhelmed, Trixie gave a slight bow.

  Kostas turned to her and smiled. “Congratulations.”

  Trixie could have kissed his inviting lips, and the dimple in his chin. She felt herself flush at the thought. “Thank you all very much for your confidence in me,” she said facing the entire council. “Whether you voted for me or not, I promise I will do my utmost to make sure all the people of this community are treated fairly and have a comfortable life.”

  McLure mumbled something under his breath.

  As head of the council, Trixie could not let McLure undermine her authority through his blatant disrespect. “Professor McLure, I believe you are sitting in my chair.”

  “You can have your precious chair,” McLure grunted. Then he rose and slowly lifted his sable coat off the chair. “Enjoy it while you can.” His thin lips disappeared as he pressed them together. His steely gray eyes glowered with pure evil in Trixie's direction.

  Wraith! She shivered under his malevolent stare as he walked along the opposite bench behind the seated councilors and sat at its opposite end.

  Trixie stepped back over her bench and crossed the few steps to the high seat. Once there, she remained standing and straightened her spine as she faced the entire council. Kostas grinned, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

  Trixie took a deep breath. “Now we need to decide on the points of negotiation I will present to the Godds when they return. What exactly do we want from them? What are we willing to concede? It may be a long negotiation. I hope to make it drag as much as I can to delay the hard work we will eventually have to provide...”

  Chapter Five

  Early the next morning, as he worked at the forge, Kostas felt a disturbance in the air and smelled an ion trail.

  “They are here!” a man running up the street yelled at him through the open awning.

  Kostas dropped the bellows, secured his weapons on his belt, grabbed his pulse rifle and ran out of the forge. When he came in view of the capitol building, the Godds had landed their glass shuttle on the flat terraced roof. He hurried across the esplanade, inside the building, then raced up the stairs.

  When he reached the flat roof, Trixie faced the two aliens She looked tense, and he couldn't blame her. A lot depended upon the success of this meeting. Despite her tall frame, the giant leader in turquoise robes, Ktal, dwarfed her.

  Trixie bowed to the Godd. “Will you join us in our council room?”

  “No,” Ktal said in a deep, cavernous voice. “We decided to hold the negotiations aboard our ship.”

  The golden alien in crimson, who'd remained behind his leader, motioned for Trixie to step into their craft.

  Kostas didn't like the idea of her going to their spaceship alone. Up there she would be at their mercy. By the Halls of Montezuma, he wasn't about to let that happen.

  Kostas nodded to the alien in Turquoise. “I'm coming along as her bodyguard.”

  He saw the relief in Trixie's wide blue eyes as she glanced back at him. After all, the Goddian prince had not come alone either. It seemed a logical point of protocol. Trust only went so far.

  Kostas bounded up the three folding steps of the transparent shuttle and climbed in, scanning the vessel for any sign of weapons, or possible danger. Seeing none, he helped Trixie get in. Even with the bubble hatch lifted, like on an antique convertible vehicle, the low sides seemed designed for people with longer legs than hers. The shuttle looked much larger up close than from the esplanade.

  Kostas and Trixie took the seats the alien indicated for them among several rows. The two Godds sat in the seats facing them... large seats.

  Ktal touched a spot on the arm of his seat, and the glass bubble closed. Kostas heard the click of the hermetic seal. He'd never flown in something transparent before. And it would take them into space... He touched the glass. It felt warm. “What kind of material is that?”

  “We call it flexglaz,” the golden alien in crimson robes offered with a congenial smile. “It is much stronger than your titanium... without the drawbacks.”

  The shuttle lifted smoothly, without any sound or any visible pilot intervention. Glancing below, Kostas saw many settlers on the snow-packed esplanade, staring up at them. Then the citadel quickly receded and shrank in size as the small vessel soared through the gray clouds.

  “How did you know we'd already made the decision to consider your offer?” Trixie's smile looked forced.

  The two Godds glanced at each other, then they stared at Kostas, as if he should be the one speaking. Definitely a misogynist culture. When Kostas stared back in stubborn silence then looked away through the hatch, the leader in Turquoise finally addressed Trixie.

  “My name is Ktal, Prince of the Goddian Empire, and my second in command is Kuhr. We knew you were ready to negotiate because we listened to your council meeting.”

  “You are listening to us?” A pink glow colored Trixie's face. “How? Do you have recording devices all over the citadel?”

  “Nothing so primitive.” Ktal said with a hint of haughtiness. “Our satellites monitor all your conversations.”

  “That's an invasion of privacy.” Her fine features hardened, and the clear blue eyes squinted.

  Kostas was not surprised. He understood the tactical advantage.

  The alien prince addressed Kostas again. “Wouldn't you use all your technology to gather information if the situation was reversed?”

  Kostas returned the stare but remained in silent mode. Observing. This was Trixie's meeting. He was only the bodyguard.

  Trixie swallowed noisily. Obviously, she realized what was happening. The Godds weren't used to dealing with females. “I don't know... It seems extreme and distrustful.”

  “But truth is more important than trust.” Ktal smoothed his turquoise braids and smiled. “It also allowed us to study and learn your language in order to facilitate communication.”

  Kostas had a glimpse of a satellite as the shuttle rose above the stratosphere, easily escaping the planet's gravity without a shake, not even the sound or the vibration of an engine. Amazing technology.

  He wondered what else the satellites were monitoring. Could they target any house and blow it up? Or pinpoint any particular individual and make him combust? He
remembered the trigger-happy representative burned to a crisp on the esplanade. Kostas had seen no weapon, only a bright flash.

  They'd probably used the satellites to target the wreck of Noah’s Ark on the ground and destroy it with wicked precision. His military mind never stopped planning. All it would take was an armed shuttle to destroy these spying and targeting satellites. But since the small devices also controlled the weather... definitely a catch twenty-two.

  If the satellites could monitor their conversations through the walls of the citadel, Kostas wondered how far underground the listening devices could penetrate. Could they spy through the rock? Into the deep caves? Human instruments couldn't listen through rock, but these Godds enjoyed more sophisticated technology.

  The sudden appearance of a shimmering golden ship, like a luminous turtle sitting in black space, interrupted his thoughts. That ship looked smaller than Noah’s Ark. Kostas could see no obvious outside weaponry, yet he could feel the incredible power emanating from the shimmering vessel, as if it vibrated through his bones. He wondered how many Godds lived onboard, what it would take to bring it down... Without space support, it would have to be done from the inside. But before planning any attack, Kostas needed information.

  A wide round opening enlarged gradually in the hull of the large ship, like the pupil of an eye adapting to darkness. The shuttle floated through the rainbow of what Kostas assumed to be multiphasic shields, through the iris hatch, and inside a brightly lit bay, where it landed smoothly on the white floor. Anchoring rungs on the floor probably served to secure the shuttles during space battles or space turbulence.

  Kostas barely heard the whoosh of air filling the bay despite his enhanced hearing. The transparent hatch clicked and opened up on its back axis to let them out.

  Kostas rose and offered his hand to Trixie, who refused it. Ignoring the folding steps, he jumped down, then Trixie landed lightly next to him on the white spongy decking. The two Godds seemed very proud of themselves as they sedately descended the steps one at a time in a dignified manner.

  “This way,” Ktal pointed then led them out of the shuttle bay, through another iris door, and along pearly white corridors.

  Everything looked empty, smooth, sterile, compared to the run-down brown bulkhead and peeling paint of Noah’s Ark. If this was the norm for their species, the Godds no doubt would consider Humans as dirty, primitive savages.

  “How many on board?” Trixie asked as if reading Kostas' mind.

  “Enough,” Ktal said with the dismissive wave of a six-fingered hand.

  They met no one along the corridor as it ended in an iris door that opened for them. Where was the crew? Were they afraid? Cautious? Kostas wondered why they hid from their visitors. The small party crossed into an elliptical room that stood empty, except for a few white consoles along the bulkhead.

  “We'll be comfortable here,” Ktal announced.

  Kostas' hopes of ever taking control of the ship vanished. The pearly white consoles told him nothing of their function. As the only elements in the room, with a seat in front of each one, he had to assume these consoles served a purpose. Goddian technology, however, seemed far beyond Human understanding.

  The forward screen showed the planet then zoomed on the citadel of Kassouk with incredibly sharp details. Kostas could discern a single man walking along a narrow street, carrying firewood.

  If Kostas could not take over the Goddian ship, his only remaining option in case of conflict would be to destroy it. But he suspected such a vessel might not be vulnerable to any conventional attack, despite its lack of visible weaponry.

  “We are glad you decided to collaborate,” Kuhr, the Godd in crimson, told Kostas in a surprisingly friendly tone.

  Kostas saw an opportunity to get information from the subaltern. “What happened to the people who worked the mines in the past?”

  Kuhr with the golden face raised his red brow. Ktal, ahead of them in the white oval room turned and shot a silencing turquoise glare to his subaltern. So much for obtaining information.

  “Yes,” Trixie said, having missed that silent exchange. “Who were they, and what happened to them?”

  Ktal's wide shoulders stiffened under the turquoise robes. “That is not part of the agreement we came here to work out.”

  Just then, a round table emerged from the floor and rose, pearly white like everything on deck, filling the empty space at the center of the room. Four seats also emerged around it, as if molded to fit the people in the room. Ktal motioned for Trixie and Kostas to sit in the smaller ones. His aide took a larger seat.

  Finally, Ktal sat facing Trixie. “Let's focus on the issues at hand.”

  * * *

  Kostas adjusted his sunglasses against the blinding reflection of sunlight on the snow. Even in the pink dawn, a military clone wasn't immune to retinal burn. He hurried down the stone steps abutting the wall, toward the cobbled streets where snow and ice melted in puddles. He jogged the short distance to the mess hall, or the refectory as the settlers now called it.

  The Godds had kept their promises so far. The weather had warmed up several degrees, but the negotiations were going slow. Hope swelled in his chest and bloomed into the happy faces of the settlers, who greeted him with nods and smiles as he entered the hall.

  A sweet aroma floated in the air, reminiscent of cinnamon and morning coffee. Coffee? Not quite, said his discriminating sense of smell. The vast room reminded him of a beer hall at the Oktoberfest. Long trestle tables and benches, set in many rows, accommodated the large numbers. Vats of warm oatmeal and hot beverages, salvaged from Noah’s Ark before it blew up, sat on tables along the walls. Settlers crowded the breakfast buffet.

  The radio at his belt spat some static. “Kostas? It's Trixie. Join us at the head table, in the northeast corner of the hall.”

  Kostas picked up the device from his belt to answer. “On my way.”

  Looking in that direction, he saw Trixie, sitting and speaking to a few councilors. At the head table, slightly apart from the other tables, servers filled the mugs with hot brew and brought large steaming bowls of food.

  Kostas sat across from Trixie and smelled the brew a server poured into his cup. “What is it?”

  “The kawa the Godds told us about.” Trixie raised her mug and drank.

  Kostas tasted his kawa and found it warm, coarse, and bittersweet, but very satisfying. “Not bad. I can get used to that.”

  Trixie's smile brightened the large blue pools of her eyes. “It's supposed to give you plenty of energy for the entire day.”

  “We are going to need it,” Kostas grunted. He didn't share her optimism. “Trust the masters to keep the slaves in good working order.” He took another sip. “Is kawa hard to find?”

  “Not at all,” said a female councilor. “It grows everywhere. Even in winter when the leaves are dead, we just have to brush the snow and pull out the roots.”

  “Beneficial and in abundance.” Kostas wondered whether the Godds had originally brought the plant from their own planet, or engineered it for that very purpose.

  “We prepared it according to the recipe they gave us,” said another female councilor. “You cut the long roots of the kawa plant in small cubes, then you roast it over the fire in a pan drilled with small holes. Then you brew it just like coffee in the old days of Earth.”

  “I've never had fresh brewed coffee, only the soluble substitute.” Kostas took another sip. “But I do like this.”

  Trixie smiled straight at him, and Kostas felt that tug in his chest again. What was wrong with him? Should he see a medic? No. A medic might discover what he was. Besides, of anyone here, he would be the least likely to get sick.

  “Can you feel the change in the atmosphere?” It wasn't really a question from Trixie. “Just with kawa and better weather, it seems hope has returned to these people. They are smiling again.”

  “Who knows?” Kostas dipped a spoon into his bowl of oatmeal with sweet cinnamon spice, judging by
the aroma. “Maybe our accidental presence in this unknown sector will turn out to be a good thing after all.”

  Trixie's radio sputtered. She set it on the table and turned up the volume.

  “Captain? This is Dolores. I'm with Kenny, at the entrance of this large cave just above the citadel... We found something.”

  “Report. What is it?” Trixie's face turned serious and tense.

  “Bones, lots of bones...” Kenny's lisp.

  “What kind of bones? Animals? Rodents?” Trixie's expression remained guarded.

  “No, big fat bones.” The frightened tone in Dolores' voice sent chills, like a cold wind blowing over the table.

  Kostas shivered. There were no large animals on the planet.

  “You mean Human bones?” The small muscles around Trixie's eyes tensed.

  “No, not Human either.” Kenny again. “But definitely humanoid.”

  “Do you think the previous inhabitants buried their dead in those caves?”

  “I don't think so.” Dolores this time. “I see no complete skeletons... more like individual bones in big piles.”

  “An ossuary?”

  The most horrendous cry pierced through the radio waves, followed by another and another, like a horde of wild animals howling at the moon.

  “Dolores?” Panic tinged Trixie's voice. “Kenny? What's happening?”

  More animal screams.

  Then Dolores. “I see nada, but there is something here. We are not alone.”

  “Watch out!” Kenny's voice, then static. “...zerkers!”

  Several blaster discharges sizzled, the howls intensified, then the radio signal cut out.

  “Damn it all to hell!” Kostas slammed his palm on the table, making the kawa jump in the cups. “I knew the Goddian bastards were hiding something from us.

  Shocked silence filled the hall. Even the sound of silverware stopped.

  The councilors at the table gaped, fear in their widened eyes.

  “What just happened?” a woman asked.

  Kostas rose from his bench. “I'm going to find out.”