by Bob Mauldin
“Just wait and see what happens. sel Garian wouldn’t take this position if she didn’t feel she had backing. If we oppose sel Garian, we oppose the matriarch, and I’m not prepared to do that.”
The protests continued until the old woman raised the volume on her throat mike and grated, “Silence! Everyone move down to the first few rows.”
Rentec watched his fellow ministers with something akin to amusement and waited while they complied with sel Garian’s command. He looked back to the stage to find the Policy Minister staring directly at him, and he wished he could be anywhere but under her scrutiny. It reminded him too much of his mother’s gaze the day he’d been sent home from Academy for playing a prank on a professor.
Turning the volume up even farther, sel Garian bellowed, “Silence!”
The walls shook, and Rentec could feel the sympathetic vibrations as they were transmitted from the walls, through the floor, and into the chair he sat in.
This time sel Garian got the silence she demanded. She turned the microphone down to a more reasonable level and waited, spearing each member of her audience with those angry red eyes. When she felt the silence had served its purpose, she said, “Everything that has gone before this point is for public consumption. It will be reported throughout the Polity in even more detail than you’ve heard tonight. What the general public won’t know is what you are about to hear. This is a matter of the gravest importance, make no mistake about it. You will not reveal what you are about to be made privy to—not to your mothers, not your consorts, not your lovers. You will tell no one, and you will not discuss what you are about to hear and see with anyone who is not in this room right now, with the exception of the matriarch. The oaths of everyone in this room to the matriarch are invoked. Is this clear?”
It was if somehow sel Garian had disappeared from the stage and been replaced by a maddened vorloper, horns and all. The Ministers and secretaries closest to the stage moved back as if they thought she would reach out and shake the bones right out of their skins. Rentec saw the hand she snaked to the control box on her belt and only smiled at the next jolt she gave her audience. “I said, ‘Is that clear?’”
Even expecting the subsonic pulse, Rentec began to sweat and nodded along with the rest, just to get on with hearing what she had to tell them next. “Each of you are here because your various ministries are so deeply involved, and discussion of the following information is forbidden outside of secure areas.” Again, she stood in silence and let her last remarks sink in. “Now,” she said sharply enough to make Rentec jump, “the item that is not for public consumption is this. In four hundred and fifty years in space, we’ve found only one other intelligent race—the Korvil.”
“If you can call them intelligent,” Parlo said quietly. “I, for one, think they operate mostly on instinct. And that knowledge can’t be what is so secret. Everybody already knows it.”
“Instinct doesn’t allow you to devise new manufacturing processes to be able to reproduce stolen technology,” Rentec countered quietly. “Nor does it allow you to innovate the kind of battle tactics we’ve had to deal with so far. In almost every encounter with the Korvil, we’ve lost because we didn’t know what we were doing. The one major action we won—the one we just found out about—we won because we were somehow able to mount superior forces and catch them by surprise. Now be silent.”
sel Garian waited patiently for the murmurs that followed her declaration to die down. “That statement has held true until recently,” she continued. “We now have proof that there is another race out there somewhere.”
Pandemonium broke out throughout the auditorium, and the old woman let it go on. Rentec sat silently.
His cousin asked, “Aren’t you the least bit concerned?”
“I’m concerned that I won’t get to hear what sel Garian has to say, cousin. Don’t you think she’ll have some kind of proof to back it up? She has to. Wait and listen.”
“What is not for public consumption is the fact of the existence of these new aliens, and that two representatives of this race are on Shiravi now! At the time our forces killed the Sept-leader, he had with him, chained and leashed, two members of this new race—one male and one female. After much deliberation, the matriarch has decided that anyone, any race, that’s an enemy to the Korvil can only be a friend to the Shiravi.
“The spirit of these two people—yes, I said people, for that is what they are even though they look different—the spirit of these two people is amazing. The first pictures we have of them show them dirty, emaciated, kept on the verge of starvation, beaten, and abused. The male, still chained, tried to fight off his rescuers until they made it clear to him that they meant no harm to him or the female. The two biggest problems faced by the members of the fleet were gaining their trust and finding the right food for them to eat.”
sel Garian stood patiently while the ministers and secretaries spoke amongst themselves. Finally, the Minister of Commerce, a rabid Isolationist and distant cousin of sel Garian’s, managed to get her attention. “Minister sel Parris,” she said in recognition, granting him the right to speak.
Adopting a considerably more aggressive stance than polite Shiravan custom would normally dictate, the recognized minister asked, “What assurances do we have that these reports haven’t been exaggerated and that these ‘aliens’ actually exist?”
The only sound in the room came from the air flowing into the room through the vents during the time sel Garian stared at sel Parris. By the time she finally responded to him, even the people from his own ministry had begun to physically distance themselves from him. “I would consider carefully any further words you might have for me, Minister. You are dangerously close to calling me a liar,” she said as she stepped off the stage.
“No, Minister sel Garian, I’m not calling you a liar. I’m merely pointing out that you, like the rest of us, could be duped into believing a lie, which you could then pass on to us as truth. And believing it yourself, you could easily convince us.”
“So you’re saying that I’m not a liar?” sel Garian asked. “But rather that I’m gullible?”
“Minister, you twist my words,” sel Parris protested.
“Minister, it is the job of people in our profession to twist words, thoughts, and ideas,” sel Garian said chidingly. “Of course, I twist your words, just like you twist the words put into your ears by your superiors. The difference is, Minister, that the words are coming out of your mouth, and you should have better sense than to utter them in my presence. Here and now, we will deal with my ‘gullibility,’” she said, looking sel Parris up and down. “First, the matriarch would not authorize the destruction of two vessels and their crews to maintain a fiction. Second, the visual details agree with the written reports in every detail. Third, cross-examination of every surviving member of that fleet agree with both the written and visual records. And concerning the two aliens that you wish to dismiss so handily, I’m here to tell you that they were not only rescued but survived to set foot on Shiravan soil. We have among us two representatives of a third sentient race. These two beings have been handled badly at the hands of the Korvil, and it is the matriarch’s opinion, with which I concur, that once their rulers find out about their treatment at the hand of their captors, they will be no friend of the Korvil. There’s an old maxim, Minister sel Parris, that you would do well to heed: ‘He who would oppose your enemy should be cultivated as an ally.’”
“We still have no proof, Minister sel Garian,” the Commerce Minister said, “of the existence of these future allies. And if they do exist, how do we know they will be allies?”
“We know they’ll be allies, Minister sel Parris, because they were mistreated at Korvil hands, rescued by Shiravan forces, and so far, have been treated with the utmost respect and consideration. At this particular moment, we cannot converse with them beyond basic needs, but we’ll remedy that situation in the near future. Now, as to their real or imagined
existence...” sel Garian left the sentence unfinished, turned her back on the larger man, and stepped back up onto the stage. Thumbing her throat-mike to a new frequency, she gave a command unheard by the stunned ministry personnel. Seconds later, the door opened, and one of sel Garian’s secretaries entered the auditorium, followed by an... alien! No! Two aliens!
Rentec was as stunned as the rest of the people in the room to see what came next. The first being to follow the secretary onto the stage was shorter than the Shiravan average by a noticeable amount, while the second was even shorter, and she was white. Her skin seemed to be bleached of almost all color, leaving only the vaguest tint of red to her complexion, and she had long brown fur growing from the top of her head. But the first! If he ever saw anything in his life that said ‘alien,’ it would be the taller of the two creatures now standing beside sel Garian. He—if it was a “he”—was black! He looked as if all the darkness of space had been condensed into one individual, and the fur on top of this one’s head was short and composed of tiny ringlets pressed tightly against his skull. Both... people... seemed to be heavier across the chest than most Shiravans, possibly indicating a greater strength.
It seemed to be a night designed for pandemonium. The ministers and secretaries crowded around the stage, causing the two aliens to step back. sel Garian took one step forward, arms held out. “That’s far enough! Minister sel Parris, step up here, please.”
When the Isolationist Minister stood before sel Garian, she asked, “Please tell me now what you think of our ‘fictitious’ aliens.”
“I... I have no response, Policy Minister.”
“Of course, you don’t. You haven’t had your ears filled with the wisdom of your elders in Clan sel Parris. Nor will you! Knowledge of the existence of these two is restricted to the Reprisal Fleet that brought them in, the matriarch and her staff, and the people in this room. If this bit of information gets out, be sure that the matriarch will not be pleased, and I will track down the perpetrator. That would amount to treason and would be dealt with appropriately. This is only a temporary restriction until we can learn to speak more fluently with these people and learn something more of their culture and their race’s intentions. Then more can be said. For the time being, these two will be removed to a safe haven and kept in seclusion for their own wellbeing.”
She motioned for her secretary to take the two aliens out, and the unlikely trio made their way offstage. When the doors closed, sel Garian turned back to the assemblage. “Each Ministry will receive instructions in the coming days. For the time being, that will be all. And remember: Not. One. Word!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sarah and Dwayne were led on a whirlwind tour of the Galileo, showcasing her bridge, quarters, dining halls, gyms, factories, and engine room. “The captain thought your viewers would like a tour,” Kimura said at the outset. “This may save you a question or two and will certainly do your careers a world of good. In about an hour, you’ll be sitting down with Captain Grimes. How much space does your camera have, Dwayne?”
“About twelve hours’ worth. I’m more concerned about batteries, though. I can only run for about three hours. What’s that walled-off section down there?” Dwayne asked, pointing toward the bow.
Kimura looked forward and said, “Save ten minutes of battery power. You may get to see a game of Z-tag.”
Explaining in a clear, concise manner could be an easy way to lose an audience, but not when one has a sense of humor and an infectious attitude, which Kimura had in spades. Between destinations on the tour, Sarah asked how she’d come to be aboard.
Looking distinctly uncomfortable, she said, “I am Rukia Kimura. I’m third-generation Japanese American, and I was expected to do something useful with my life, but this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing we had in mind when I left for college.” She looked up to see the camera pointed at her and didn’t miss the red light on top. “Anyway, some friends of mine went to a science-fiction convention and disappeared. That would have been bad enough, but other friends told me how they disappeared. ‘Beamed up!’ they said,’ but don’t tell anyone.’
“Well, I didn’t tell anyone, but still the police, the FBI, and people who never said who they worked for interviewed me. Then, about seven or eight months later, a couple of friends who’d disappeared showed back up with some very impressive evidence, so this time when they had a meeting, I went. I’ll tell you right now, the first time you see a beam-in or beam-out is something you’ll never forget!
“So, I’ve been aboard for about two years or a little more now. I’d like to take a vacation, ya know, but the higher-ups think most of us should wait until... wait a while and see how things develop. When we don’t have to worry about being picked up by some government agency and grilled about what we know... Okay!” Kimura said with some relief, “Here’s the engine room. Operating on principles just now being thought of on Earth, these engines can move a vehicle this size into what we call quantum space. A trip to Alpha Centauri would take a bit over four months each way. And contrary to popular opinion, there isn’t that much time distortion—no double ages like in the old sci-fi novels, just a clean, relatively quick transition to another place at a high rate of speed...”
Finally! Sarah thought as she recognized the woman seated at the table in one of the dining halls aboard the massive ship. “I’m sorry I couldn’t take the time any sooner, Miss Parker,” Lucy said, standing up and gesturing to the chair opposite her. “Will this do? I hope Commander Kimura kept you entertained?”
“Uh, ladies? Can I get you to sit at nine and twelve instead of six and twelve? That way I can get you both in one shot without any cutting.”
“If you have no objections, Captain,” Sarah said, staring daggers at her cameraman.
“You’ll thank me later, Sarah,” Dwayne muttered.
“Um, thank you, and yes she did, Captain,” Sarah said as she moved around the table. She didn’t quite know how to take the young woman sitting across from her. Short, slim, and with a figure Sarah would have died for, the darkly pretty woman seemed both older and younger than she’d appeared when she stepped off the shuttle in Zurich.
I think she’s actually younger than I am! The aura of command seems to surround her, probably because so many people seem to defer to her, Sarah thought.
At the same time, a redheaded woman came up to the table. “Would you care for refreshments, Miss Parker?”
Sarah glanced at the glass sitting in front of the woman she’d come to see.
“Ginger ale, Miss Parker. I find that it helps me focus.”
“That will be fine,” she said in a weak voice. Keeping the running camera ever in her mind, Sarah began before the redhead could come back with her drink. “Let’s start with the basics, I guess. What do I call you?”
Waving her hand negligently, the other woman said, “If we were aboard a ship assigned to me, you would call me ‘captain.’ My rank, however, is First Captain, and that would be appropriate, I think. But here and now, you can call me Lucy.”
“Okay, Lucy, tell everybody out there how you got to be the head of the Terran Alliance.”
“Let’s see… How to make a long story short?” Lucy said speculatively. “I was among the first group to volunteer. There were thirty-five of us. When ‘watch’ schedules were being assigned, I was lucky enough to get third shift and be put in charge. You need to know that at that time, no one person knew any more about what we were doing than any other, so it was essentially luck that put me where I wound up. I got promoted to captain when the first two ships were commissioned, and when the captain, Simon Hawke at the time, and his wife Kitty were...” her voice cracked with emotion. “Well, I was the senior officer left, except for the base captain and commanders, and they refused to take the position. They’re engineers, and we needed them where they were. So the other captains and Marsha Kane, who’s captain of the McCaffrey, teamed up and shanghaied me into the job.”
; “What effects do you see as a result of releasing this technology to the general public?”
“There lies one of the biggest problems we have to face,” Lucy said slowly. “You see, a lot of this stuff is so far ahead of Earth’s technical level that it can’t be reproduced on Earth, at least not until several levels of technological upgrades are made. But for the things we can do now, the results can be devastating. We hope to minimize the pain, of course, but whole technologies will give way to new ones. If this ship were to disappear tomorrow, do you think the world would go back to being the same? No. Just the absolute knowledge that there are other people out there will spur people on. The simple fact that something can be done will make people try to reproduce it. But what will happen to the people who get displaced? We don’t want them to suffer. They have families to feed, lives to live, bills to pay. But change will inevitably occur.
“It’s the short term we worry about, right now. What happens when hundreds of thousands of people are out of work? Economic devastation is what. We want to turn over technologies that will benefit the planet and see that people get retrained before they wind up out of work. Governments will have to help with that. Possibly a voluntary retraining program could help people get into the new technologies. Construction of the facilities to produce the new items, as well as removal of older buildings to make way for those new buildings, will be needed. We’ll also be introducing ways to help end some of the pollution that’s causing the greenhouse effects—cleaner fuel technologies, ones that don’t need replacement as often as say, coal, or gasoline. And those are just two.”
