Set the Terms

by Mia R Kleve

  The shuttle slowed, coming in softly for a landing. Once it was down, Elgar relaxed. Flying wasn’t one of his favorite things, and he was glad to be on solid ground again. Heights had always been a particular challenge for him.

  “Are you excited to be here for the selection?” Elgar asked as he undid his restraints and rose to his feet. “Or simply because you’re home?”

  Hetok grinned at him, showing sharp pointed teeth. “Both, of course, though I’m more interested in the selection at the moment. It always excites me to see a prospective Peacemaker taking the first steps on their journey.

  “It’s only great luck that my grandnephew is competing this year. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Hak-Chet is overseeing the competition.”

  As the main selector, it seemed something of a coincidence that the Sidar was on Jukus, but Hak-Chet had known Hetok for decades, so Elgar wagered it was no coincidence at all.

  “It will be good to see him again,” Elgar said as the hatch opened, and the crew began extending the ramp. “It’s been a while since my own selection, but I recall him with more fondness than irritation. After all, he had to put up with quite a lot from me.”

  Hetok slid out of his seat, landed lightly on the shuttle floor, and started toward the exit. “Since it took you three times to make it through the selection process, I’m quite certain that he feels some mixed emotions as well. He’s remarked on several occasions that you’re remarkably stubborn. I don’t know if he saw that as positive or negative, though.”

  “I’ll take it as a compliment,” Elgar rumbled, suppressing a laugh. “I was certainly determined to make it into the Peacemakers, and he was quite helpful in pointing out the areas where I fell short so that I could adjust my training regimen. I honestly think that’s what allowed me to do so well at the Academy, once I finally made it.”

  “Three times,” Hetok repeated with a shake of his head. “While that’s not unheard of, it is unusual. Perhaps it speaks more to your determination than your brilliance.”

  Elgar grunted at his friend’s needling. His grades had been excellent, though Hetok was correct in that no one had ever accused him of brilliance. He’d simply refused to give up when confronted by an obstacle.

  He’d refused to fail at the Academy because he’d had to make up for the sins of his father.

  Elgar’s father had betrayed a mercenary company in his employ, who’d all been subsequently killed. Elgar’s uncle—Peacemaker Enforcer Jardis Xarbon—had uncovered the crime and then arrested his own older brother.

  To say that that had made family gatherings somewhat tense ever since was something of an understatement.

  Elgar—a pudgy adolescent at the time—hadn’t known anything more than the basics after Uncle Jardis had arrested his father, and visiting his father in prison had proven less than enlightening. The man had insisted that he was innocent, despite the incriminating files he’d had in his slate.

  In the beginning, Elgar had believed him. It had taken several years before he’d spoken to his uncle at all, only then allowing him to explain what he could of the situation. It took even more time to accept the truth of what he’d been told.

  With that acceptance came a determination to change the course of his life. A drive to bring criminals like his father to justice brought Elgar the competition to be selected for the Peacemaker Academy on his home world.

  As Hetok enjoyed reminding him, his first attempt had been a dismal failure, at least from his point of view. Hak-Chet had, thankfully, disagreed and encouraged him to work harder before returning for another try.

  The next time he’d ended up a finalist, but still failed.

  That would’ve been the point where most people gave up, convinced that they didn’t have what it took to be a Peacemaker. For Elgar, it only made him strive harder, and as the Humans said, the “third time was the charm.”

  He supposed that was better than “three strikes and you’re out.” He’d had to look up the latter saying to understand that it related to some sort of athletic competition. It amused him how the two sayings were so diametrically opposed.

  How very much like humanity itself.

  What had mattered then was that Hak-Chet had believed in him. That confidence and his own refusal to give up, no matter the obstacles he had to overcome, had been enough for him to finally achieve selection.

  That in turn had given him the chance to use his intelligence and skill to make it through the Peacemaker Academy. The knowledge that he could count on himself had stood him in good stead ever since.

  Elgar realized that he’d been lost in thought and forced his attention back to his friend.

  Hetok was watching him closely, his expression one that Elgar knew from experience meant the Juk was feeling somber.

  “I’m sorry to have sent your thoughts back to your father. I allowed my ebullience to carry me away.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself,” Elgar said with more cheer than he felt. “You’re not responsible for the sins of my father, any more than I am. His crimes brought him into conflict with Uncle Jardis, and that was a contest he never had a chance of winning.”

  Hetok nodded. “Enforcer Jardis is very easy to underestimate. The two of you are quite alike, you know.”

  “I wish we were similar enough that I could’ve taken the training to become an Enforcer after I graduated from the Academy,” Elgar grumbled. “Uncle Jardis is…formidable.”

  “We each serve the Union in our own way,” Hetok assured him as they finally exited the shuttle. “Don’t crave another’s path. Forge your own destiny.”

  As soon as they’d exited the shuttle, a strong breeze washed over Elgar. He braced his lighter companion, which made him laugh.

  “Fear not for me,” Hetok chided him. “This is my home, and I can handle what it gives me.”

  “Why is it so windy?”

  “For that, we’ll need to step over to the right at about sixty degrees.”

  Here, in the wide open, Elgar’s poor vision was of little help in seeing his surroundings, but he could tell that the pad was more than wide enough to comfortably fit two shuttles. That meant he could see out to the rails at the edges, but everything beyond was a blur.

  He could tell they were in the open because the wind was gusting and whistling past him. The landing pad must be on a hill.

  That impression was bolstered by the scent of nature on the breeze. He stood for a moment, trying to catalog all the smells—without success—and just generally enjoyed the fresh, unrecycled air.

  “You’ll want to put on your glasses for this,” Hetok insisted. “And hold onto them so that the wind doesn’t blow them off your face.”

  Grumbling to himself, Elgar fished out the glasses provided for Peacemakers and slid them over his eyes, making sure to keep his free hand on them. That brought the railing and the clear sky beyond it into clear focus as Hetok guided them to a specific spot.

  When they stopped next to the railing, Hetok took hold of it, leaving Elgar free to look at their surroundings. There was open space, as far as the eye could see.

  Including down.

  Elgar only avoided stepping back in horror because he was frozen in place. Beyond the railing, there was a great forest spread out about five hundred meters below. His stomach lurched and he gripped the railing hard.

  “This is…ah, unexpected,” he muttered. “I thought your people were tree gliders.”

  His friend clapped him on the hip, thankfully not moving him one centimeter closer to the deadly edge. “We evolved as tree gliders, but my world is filled with these tall spires of rock created by ancient volcanic activity and erosion. Once we’d begun the trek to sentience, we flocked to them. As an advanced people, our centers of government are located in places like this.” He smiled wickedly up at Elgar. “You sound disturbed. Is something the matter?”

  “You know how I feel about heights,” Elgar grumbled.

  “Where’s your sense of adventure, my young
friend?” Hetok asked as he tugged Elgar toward the wide doorway leading into the spire that towered above them.

  He hadn’t seen the remaining part of the stone formation he was standing on because of his poor eyesight, but with his glasses in place, he now noted that it went up another several hundred meters.

  It was impressive and more than a bit horrifying to be on.

  At least from this point forward, they could stay within the spire, using mundane methods to get where they needed to go. He wouldn’t have to look out at the steep drop again.

  As if reading his thoughts, Hetok gestured to their left. “The selection area and our quarters are going to be in the adjacent spire, but don’t worry, it’s only going to take us a few minutes to glide between the two.”

  Elgar turned in the indicated direction, even as a wash of cold went through his system. There was indeed a very similar spire of stone about two hundred meters off the other side of the shuttle pad.

  Not waiting for his friend to say anything more, Elgar stepped over to the railing on that side and looked down. The split between the two pieces of stone took place about one-third of the way up from the forest below.

  “There will be elevators to take us down to where they join,” Elgar disagreed sternly. “I’m quite certain that your people don’t expect everyone to fly between these things.”

  Even as he said that, Elgar saw that that might not be completely true. There was a steady stream of Juks flowing between the two spires, and they weren’t alone.

  There were larger gliders—obviously mechanical in nature—that carried other species across the gap. He couldn’t tell if the units were powered or not, but that hardly mattered. Some people were crazy enough to try anything.

  “You need not worry, my friend,” Hetok said as he clapped a hand on Elgar’s waist. “The glider units are completely safe. Computers control every aspect of flight and no one is in any danger. Just think of it as an adventure.”

  Another Human saying immediately popped into his mind. Considering the slight resemblance Gtandans had to terrestrial swine, it was both insulting and ironically appropriate.

  “When pigs fly,” Elgar said firmly.

  His friend laughed and then insisted on taking him to see the damned gliders, as if there was any chance at all that he’d agree to the madman’s plan. There was a station with the devices a short distance from the shuttle pad, so he’d have had to walk right past them in any case.

  There were a wide variety of sizes and configurations, as befitted the diversity of the Union races. They ranged in size from smaller than Hetok to even larger than Elgar.

  “This one here is the one that you’d use,” his friend said with exaggerated cheerfulness. “See the broad green stripe with the number three? That’s suitable for Gtandans. I looked it up, just to be sure.”

  “I’m not jumping off a perfectly good mountain,” Elgar said as repressively as he could.

  Hetok ignored his objection and continued to explain the controls. “The harness securing you in is Union standard, so you’ll have no issues with it.”

  “I’ll have no issues because there is no way that I’m flying in this deathtrap.”

  “Gliding,” Hetok corrected primly. “And you’ll note the controls are easily grasped—both physically and mentally—by the user. If you feel inspired, you can control the trip manually. The computers won’t allow anything dangerous unless properly overridden.

  “Or you can let the glider handle everything by selecting your destination and allowing the glider to get you there. You’ll note the goggles hanging on this other rack. Those should allow you to see everything with the utmost clarity.”

  “Not happening,” Elgar said with a shudder that wasn’t at all theatrical. “Let’s get inside before I throw you off this thing and make my own way over.”

  Hetok roared with laughter and followed closely behind him. “You’re so predictable, my young friend. Perhaps by the end of your stay I’ll have worn you down enough to try. Remember that each level of the spires has a station just like this if you change your mind.”

  * * *

  They took an elevator down, walked through a tunnel to reach the other spire, and then ascended again. Hetok chided him every step along the way, too.

  Elgar felt no guilt about not taking his friend up on his outrageous offer to glide across together. While he was certainly willing to take risks in the course of his duties, he wasn’t going to be suicidal while on vacation.

  It only took them a few minutes to get their key cards and find their quarters. Elgar closed the door behind him, leaning against it to clear his head and just breathe. The last few minutes had been unexpectedly harrowing.

  Once he’d restored some of his usual normality, he quickly confirmed that his luggage had arrived safely and was laid out across his bed, ready for his attention.

  The small suite would suit him well, he thought. It had three rooms and a balcony. He wouldn’t be using the latter, but the bath attached to the bedroom would be nice.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The air in the room was clean, with just a hint of something pleasant. There were no plants in sight, so that would be an air freshener, most likely.

  Elgar approved of the light touch. Most species wouldn’t even have consciously detected it, while someone with his sensitivity wasn’t overwhelmed. It was well done.

  Satisfied everything was in order, he moved to rejoin Hetok. His friend was just leaving his suite down the hall when Elgar stepped out.

  “Aren’t these halls and rooms rather large for your people?” Elgar asked as they made their way back to the elevator.

  “Indeed. This particular set of spires was renovated specifically to house other species. Most of the rest are crafted to hold my people, so you wouldn’t fit. I’m grateful we have elevators because climbing up the exterior at my age might be a bit challenging.”

  They had to ask for directions, but finally found themselves in a large hall that Elgar suspected was normally used for banquets and such. And since he considered it large, he was certain Hetok and his people felt it was huge indeed.

  He took a moment to put his glasses on so he could see the room in more detail. There were no tables, but someone had left seats in a visitor’s section to one side of the room. It was filled with Juks observing the selection.

  As a Peacemaker who had gone through the process three times under Hak-Chet, Elgar was intimately familiar with what was happening. In fact, he remembered going through what these candidates were doing quite clearly.

  They were assembling modular furniture.

  While that sounded mundane, the task had hidden complexity. First, the end product wasn’t sized for their species. Elgar could tell that at a glance because the parts were very large. He was also certain that Hak-Chet hadn’t provided any assembly instructions, either.

  The purpose of this particular test was to see how good the candidates’ reasoning skills were. This wouldn’t be a timed affair, though he doubted the competitors were aware of that fact. It wasn’t who finished first that mattered the most to Hak-Chet.

  This exercise judged the manner in which they chose to complete the task. There was a time for haste and a time for meticulous thinking. One had to be able to tell one from the other and judge when each needed to be applied.

  Selector Hak-Chet walked among the candidates. The long-beaked Sidar noted their arrival and came to meet them.

  “It pleases me to see you here, old friend,” Hak-Chet said to Hetok. “It’s been far too long. Tell me, are you looking forward to retirement?”

  Hetok grinned even more widely than he had earlier. “Deeply. After so many years traveling throughout the Union, it’s good to see my home world again and know that I’m settling in for good.

  “I’ve enjoyed my time as a Peacemaker, but the years are wearing on me. I long to relax and spend time with my clan.”

  “Your rest is well deserved,” Hak-Chet said befor
e turning his attention to Elgar.

  “And how about you my young friend? Are you finding the view invigorating?”

  There was a flash of humor in the Sidar’s eyes at that last question.

  “Invigorating isn’t the word I’d use, Selector,” Elgar said dryly. “Terrifying seems more apt.”

  Hak-Chet chuckled. “You’ve always had an almost unhealthy respect for heights. I suppose it isn’t that surprising. Still, it’s a weakness you should address. One never knows when a case will come up that requires you to face your greatest fear. Such a challenge should be addressed before one’s life or mission are on the line.”

  Elgar stood his ground. “Distances and heights might be problematic for me, but I make up for it in other ways. Still, your advice is well taken. I’ll look into what remedial training I can undertake to mitigate those weaknesses.”

  Eventually.

  “Enough about this mass of wiry hair and thick skin,” Hetok said firmly. “Tell me of my grandnephew. How’s he doing?”

  Elgar saw that Hetok was staring at one of the competitors. The young Juk had fur of the lightest brown. He worked with calm precision, examining all the pieces arrayed in front of him.

  Each was laid out so that he could see it clearly. He’d obviously given great thought to what needed to fit where during the assembly process.

  This was a difficult test, Elgar knew, but without knowing the features and shape of the intended species, it could fool you at the last moment.

  For that matter, it could fool you at the beginning as well.

  If this was anything like the challenge he’d faced, no one candidate had all the parts needed to complete the task. They’d need to convince one of their competitors to trade something before either of them could finish. The negotiation was a hidden part of the challenge.

  “He’s doing quite well,” Hak-Chet said. “While I’m not prepared to say that he’s the best in the room, he’s certainly well positioned to be a finalist. With work and focus, he may still beat out his competitors. As you both know, the final tests are quite challenging.”