by Laura Kaighn
“Aye, Sir,” the silver-haired historian acknowledged. He twisted to his panel to comply.
Coty raised his voice to address the bridge crew. “People, this is Orthop space, and we’re here without any backup or invitation. Our orders were sent by scrambled subspace so they wouldn’t be intercepted.” He paused to see that everyone was listening before he described their challenge. “Since the Pompeii is a relatively small vessel with an experienced crew and effective armament, we’ve been ordered here to prevent the current time stream from being destroyed. This’ll be a hit and run operation, people. I need everyone at one-hundred, ten percent.” Coty paused again to allow the implications to set in. “I needn’t emphasize the importance of our success ... or failure.” The captain turned toward his computer expert. “Zan, I realize the navigational controls and primary scanners aren’t your areas of expertise. That’s where Vesarius is gifted. But you’re just as competent and observant. Once we get to Orthop, your job’ll be to find the Arch.”
Coty spoke to his crew again. “Thanks to Sam’s appropriation of Cmdr. Tankawankanyi’s personal log recorder, we have an energy signature to search for.” The captain was grateful his first officer had thought to activate the device from within his pack. The warrior had inadvertently recorded the time machine’s power emanations when it had first been activated, just before propelling Vesarius into the past.
Now the captain addressed his science officer. “Sam, you’ll keep an eye out for attack pods from the science station using the secondary scanners and probe.” Pivoting his chair further, Coty faced the communications station. “Moxland, you’ll monitor all Orthop transmissions from this sector, and continue as long as we’re in Orthop territory. Record those transmissions and feed them through the computer’s translator. If we can get a working rendition, we may be able to reason with the Orthops, prevent a war, and save our skins in the process.”
Coty next flicked a switch on the panel beside his chair. “Jonas? You have those engines ready yet?”
Jonas Botrocelli’s voice filtered up from the lower decks where he was stationed in engineering. “The main nacelle is already re-configured, but even under forty percent power I can’t work on the other two. They need to be shut down for final installation of the crystal plates. I can power up the main engine and shut down the secondaries while still maintaining current velocity, if I have your permission, Sir.”
“We’ll lose maneuverability, Jonesey. We’re in Orthop territory now. We may need to avoid enemy fire in case of attack.”
“I’m aware of that, Sir. What I’m suggesting is a total shutdown of only one secondary engine at a time. I can keep the other on warm idle. It wastes fuel, but saves the time of a cool restart. If at any time you need all three, I can have the third recharged with a hydrogen plasma infusion in seven minutes.”
“Then you better get started before we get any further into Orthop space. Installation time for each enhanced drive?”
“About an hour, Captain. I’m leaving now.”
“Keep me posted, engineer.”
“Yes, Sir,” Botrocelli snapped. Clicking off his communit, Coty returned his eyes to the starscape. He indulged in a short daydream, imagining a beige landscape of precipitous mesas and blowing scrub pines where eagle-like predators ruled the skies, and domestic corn grew tall in the pristine air of Drianara Four. Someday, if they did survive this, he’d hand the Pompeii over to Vesarius and retire to a less hectic existence. If they all survived.
* * *
“Tundra?” Dorinda heard Vesarius mumble. Swiveling in her seat she watched the warrior raise his head and squint at his confined surroundings. His eyes seemed unable to focus, and his equilibrium was muddled, head bobbing atop his neck. “Tundra?”
Dorinda arose. She turned to kneel and face him. “Tundra’s not here, Sarius,” she explained quietly. “We left him on the Pompeii.”
“Dorinda? What is the matter with-” Vesarius blinked then scowled. “You ... you were supposed to help me.”
Dorinda closed her eyes briefly and swallowed, gathering strength for the tempest to follow. “Vesarius, I’m supposed to keep you out of trouble. Remember?” Dorinda patted at his tensed knee and continued, “I’m sorry I had to sedate you. I won’t do it again as long as you cooperate.” Beside her Dorinda noticed Tlenck’s stunned glare. She returned the look, confident that the Tloni could no longer stop her from following her heart.
Vesarius sneered. “Cooperate? With you? Why?” He wriggled his arms within the security harness. It remained firmly strapped to his sides. “You are helping Tlenck. He wants me for a scapegoat ... for his own glory.” Vesarius’ voice grew more forceful as did his struggling. “You are helping him end me, Dorinda. I am innocent. Release me from of these bonds.”
Dorinda lowered her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t. For all of our safety, I can’t release you. Not until-”
He shoved a booted foot at her. “Sren-tar meń eih,” the warrior snarled. “Leave me then. Before I shred these and strangle you with them.” In Vesarius’ agitation he heaved at the straps, grunting with the effort.
Dorinda jumped erect and backed a step. From behind the Vesar, Zlenko was on her feet now, her pistol drawn and at his temple. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you, Vesar. You’ll be dead before you stand.”
“No,” Dorinda ordered. She leaned forward to wave the weapon away from the warrior’s skull. “Don’t hurt him, Corporal.”
“Then tranq him again,” Tlenck ordered his voice trill with anxiety.
“No!” Dorinda insisted. “You’re all going to calm down and start thinking rationally. And you,” she hollered in the Vesar’s face, “are going to shut up, sit still, and hear me out. Is that clear?”
Vesarius froze in his protest to glower at her. “Why? I am already dead.”
“Not if I can help it,” Dori vowed and knelt again beside him. “Vesarius, I’ve narrowed the imposter down to seven Pvokx crewmembers, but I’m trying to improve that number. If I show you their names and dossiers, will you remember them? Tell me what you know about them? All I have access to are their official profiles and a few crewmember reports.”
Vesarius lowered his chin. “You have been working on the Pvokx logs?”
“Of course,” Dorinda snapped angrily. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“But Tundra said you were helping Tlenck.”
“I am. It was the only way to review the reports. Coty couldn’t. Dr. Waters couldn’t. So I accepted the job. And Yolonda helped me learn enough of her medical procedures to be your nurse.” Dorinda continued her reasoning. “Tlenck doesn’t want you dead, Vesarius. He’s starting to realize that this case isn’t so cut-and-dry. There’re other possible scenarios. But we’ve got to work together to prove it.” Dorinda turned to the Tloni dignitary. “Sir, may I have his help? Since you’re here to supervise ...”
“Yes, yes, so long as he promises to control himself. We Tloni are peaceful sentients, revolted by the Vesar’s Fury. It is alien and frightening.”
Nodding her satisfaction, Dorinda nonetheless found herself in agreement with Tlenck’s views. She considered her charge with a critical stare. “Well?”
“As brilliant as bronze if there is a way out of this,” Vesarius answered. “Death never appealed to me.” He seemed earnest.
“If I have Roshana unharness you, will you stay in your seat and be a good boy? No mutinous inclinations?”
“Green Eyes, do you not trust me?”
Dorinda paused before responding, her voice suddenly trembling. “I’m worried about your temper. You did just threaten to strangle me.”
Vesarius’ ebony eyes softened. “I ask forgiveness. And Tlenck is correct. The Fury is an unfortunate Vesar trait. Perhaps it is best you leave me bound.”
Ambassador Tlenck rose from his chair and sauntered some distance forward. “Since I can’t throw him from the transport, and we certainly can’t go back to the Pompeii, I suggest you
follow your instincts, Ms. Tanner. I wish Wisdom he does not try to strangle me.” The Tloni swallowed noisily and waved at his singular security officer. “Cpl. Zlenko, please join me at the front of the transport. You are now my bodyguard.”
“Yes, Sir.” Roshana stepped past the still kneeling Dorinda. “I will kill him if he tries to take over the ship,” the big-boned woman warned. Her pistol was still poised in her digits.
“Understood,” Dorinda acknowledged. Standing, Dori next regarded the silent Vesar. “I’m sorry you thought I betrayed you. I never wanted to sedate you, but even Coty agreed that it was the only way to get you onto the transport without knocking you silly again.” Dorinda leaned over and unbuckled the straps that held his arms down. “You scare me, Sarius,” she admitted as she worked. “I don’t know whether to trust you or fear you.”
When Dorinda had finished, Vesarius shrugged off the straps. With a deep, serious inhale the warrior next clasped her arms, stalling her before him. Their gazes met. “Green Eyes, I once promised you I would die a shpleep’s death if I ever hurt you again.” The reminder was delivered somberly in the warrior’s subterranean timbre. “That promise still holds. But I must also address my arrogance.” Vesarius swallowed then softly continued his confession. “I know I have caused you anguish since you arrived in this time. I ... am unaccustomed to ... caring for anyone but Tundra and myself. I did not want to be responsible for anyone else. I ask your forgiveness ... again.” Lowering his eyes, Vesarius released her arms.
Dorinda did not retreat. Instead she reached down to place her palm against the Vesar’s right shoulder. “Your warrior heart’s been hard to figure out,” she offered, “but I’m trying. And I do forgive you.”
Vesarius raised his head slowly as if uncertain how to react. “Thank you.” The Vesar’s ebony gaze was glassy with gratitude. “I have been a fool to reject your friendship. No more.”
The two were silent for an infinite moment. Then Dorinda lowered her hand and slid out from between the seats to retrieve the pile of printouts on which she’d been working. Settling down next to the Vesar, Dorinda showed him the list of names she had assembled. Soon they were engaged in an animated exchange of information.
By the end of two hours, however, Dorinda leaned back against the headrest and groaned. To the Vesar’s questioning gaze she closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. “Headache.”
“You are tired,” Vesarius observed. “How long since you slept last?”
“Not sure.” She shrugged wearily within her seat. “Since I was in the arboretum with Noah, I guess. I fell asleep on the grass. Michael woke me, and we rushed to the transport bay to meet you. I couldn’t sleep after that. I had to help, find some way to keep you from-” Dorinda stopped, half opened her eyes and turned her chin to consider him with an impassioned expression. “I couldn’t bear to have the man I was beginning to care about die because of circumstantial evidence.”
* * *
Unsure how to reply to the woman’s confession, Vesarius swallowed and concentrated instead on the starfield beyond Dorinda’s drowsy gaze. In his silence, the muscles beneath the Vesar’s mahogany jaw contorted with conflicting emotions. Within the vastness of space, there was room for much wonder and possibility. Could there be such promise within the constricting circle of his life that a stranger could become more than a friend? After a moment of conjecture, Vesarius said in a low, gruff voice, “Get some rest, Green Eyes. We can continue this later.” Dorinda never answered him. She was breathing deeply, already asleep.
Vesarius considered her peaceful face, his mind still a mixing pot of prospects. Then, resigning to his ambiguity, the Vesar tugged at his leather tunic and pulled the printouts on his lap closer. As he flipped through them for a second time, Vesarius absently fingered the totem-beads of his medallion. The beads were symbols of his family’s totem spirits, meant to protect and guide him.
All things have a purpose, his mother had once taught him. Each sand grain an origin, a destiny. There had to be an explanation for his other family crest and the Orthop translator being found on Mytok. Who could have been there a decade ago helping those cockroaches? Who could have hated the Alliance enough to assist in a plot to destroy all it had accomplished?
Raising his head from the computer papers, Vesarius addressed the Tloni dignitary now seated at the front of the Pom-3. “Ambassador, do you have a translation of the crystal tablet shards you said were found with my medallion?” Vesarius watched the Tloni’s shoulders tense.
Tlenck turned around in his seat his ears flat against his furry head. “Dr. Waters and Ms. Darby were able to piece some words together. I doubt they will make any sense to you. They are a puzzle to me. An expert linguist on Tlonnis is waiting to analyze these once we arrive there.”
“May I see a copy?” The commander stood and plopped his stack of printouts onto the seat in front of him. Vesarius noticed the Tloni’s flinch and smiled toothily. “I will not harm a hair on your entire tawny hide, Ambassador. At the moment you are in possession of my best defense.” When Tlenck continued to stare, his purple tongue gliding indecisively over whiskered lips, Vesarius pouted. “I have no quarrel with you or the Alliance. I can only ask that you take my word that I am innocent. Those transcripts may support that word.” Tlenck relaxed somewhat, but his eyes still showed uncertainty. Vesarius sat back down. “If you are concerned for violence, you could ask Cpl. Zlenko to bring them to me. When I am done, I will ask Green ... Ms. Tanner to walk them back to you. I would be most grateful.”
“Very well.” The ambassador leaned down to retrieve something from his briefcase. “Miss Zlenko, please take this to the commander and supervise his use of it. Be sure it is returned to me intact.”
“Yes, Sir. I understand.” Roshana took the folder Tlenck handed her and strode to the back of the transport. With one hand resting on the holstered weapon at her hip, Zlenko passed the file to the seated Vesar who mumbled his gratitude.
Vesarius watched the security corporal next settle across the aisle from him. She reclined slightly in her chair, laying the pistol on her lap. Then Zlenko planted her foot on the seat edge, and glared at the Vesar over her bent knee. She was as a patient leopard waiting for her prey to flee. Vesarius only nodded his thanks again and opened the hardcover booklet to review the loose papers assembled inside. He immediately noticed Moxland Darby’s scribbles in the margins; apparently the communications specialist still had many bugs to work out. “Bugs.” Crookedly Vesarius smiled to himself. He then caught Zlenko’s suspicious grunt as she adjusted her seat. “Relax, Corporal. I made a private joke.”
“Care to share?” Roshana countered deadpan. Her head tilted in challenge.
“No,” the warrior retorted. “You would only groan.” He returned to his inspection of Moxland’s transcript notes. The disjointed words and symbols were indeed a puzzle. But as Vesarius allowed his eyes to flow over the translation, a rhythm appeared, a syntax that helped him link some words together. Yes, there was a reference to ‘time’ and ‘change’, and a phrase: ‘resurrect the Great Oneness’. Strange. What could that mean? A God? Perhaps a single, influential leader. Vesarius continued reading when a faint image flashed across the distance of space to his mind’s eye.
“Tundra?” The malamute Kin’s picture words were hazy but definitely posed as a question. “I am all right, boy. We are all just fine.” Silently the warrior sent his Kinpanion a clear image of the sleeping Dorinda and a brooding Zlenko who nonetheless seemed relaxed. In response Tundra imaged a dozing Noah sprawled on Dorinda’s bed. Vesarius had to smile. The otter had worried himself to exhaustion. “Tell Noah everything is fine. And tell Coty we are strengthening the defense.”
* * *
Aboard the Pompeii, Tundra snorted his satisfaction and moved to sit before the captain’s center seat on the bridge. Coty was so intent on the forward viewscreen, he did not at once notice the canine. Tundra yipped. Michael Bear’s concentration lapsed. “What is it, boy?” The
Alaskan malamute narrowed his eyes and projected such a clear image of a smiling Vesarius that the captain blinked in surprise. “He’s all right?” Coty grinned. “Dorinda must have gotten to Tlenck. Good for her. I knew she could reason with that dogged Tloni.” Coty nodded in admiration. “She does have a gift for teaching.”
Then Tundra pictured Dorinda asleep, followed by the reclining Zlenko. “Tlenck’s not even close to him, huh? But Zlenko’s still hovering. What’s Sarius doing?” In answer Tundra projected as clear an image as he could of the papers on the Vesar’s lap. Coty could just make out the ink scribbles in the margins and recognized the document. He smiled slyly and spoke over his shoulder. “Tlenck’s definitely softening, Moxie. Vesarius is reading the transcripts you made from the Orthop crystal shards, scribbles and all.”
“Good news here too, Captain,” Moxland Darby announced. She tugged the mini headset from over her ear. “I’ve been monitoring Orthop subspace transmissions. I think we’ve got a crude language base. Not exactly eloquent diplomacy, but we can start programming the translator now.”
The captain spun on his communications specialist. “Excellent. It’s a damn shame Tlenck kept that artifact translator so well hidden. It would have saved you a lot of work.” Coty nodded his approval. “Keep it up. Any chance we have to reason with them may be one more life spared in the long run.” Coty pivoted back to face the front viewscreen. “Tundra, send Vesarius this message: So far so good.”
* * *
Vesarius received his Kin’s picture words with trepidation. He knew the Orthops would sooner blow the Pompeii into cosmic dust than negotiate after going to the trouble of building a second Arch. With the availability of a time machine, who needed to share anything? With the proper planning, these creatures could even send homing beacons into the past to better mark the best planets for later colonization.
Vesarius frowned. He should be on the Pompeii with Tundra and his crewmates. The odds were not good that the ship’s arrival would be a total surprise. Orthops had scout craft and large cruisers just like the Alliance. It was just a matter of time before somebody sent word back to the Orthop homeworld that an Alliance vessel had been sighted. The Pompeii was already four hours into alien territory.
