Veklocks

by S. H. Jucha

  Imitating her father, Tacticnok raised two digits on her hand, which rested on her leg. It signaled to Jaktook that he could speak.

  “I presume, Your Excellency, that your subjects are the Pyreans and the Tsargit,” Jaktook said. “Do you consider one of these more important than the other?”

  “No. They’re codependent,” Tacticnok replied.

  Tiknock, the master scientist, was intrigued by the response, and he signaled to be heard. When Tacticnok approved, he asked, “How are the Pyreans as important as the Tsargit’s notice of the Jatouche, and how are they linked?”

  “The Tsargit has the resources we require, and these must be directed toward the Pyreans,” Tacticnok explained.

  “You would place the humans above the Tsargit, above the alliance,” Roknick challenged.

  Tacticnok repeated a mantra in her head. It was taught to her by her father, when she was young. It calmed her mind. As she had expected, Roknick’s first act in her audience was to speak accusingly to her and this without being recognized.

  Following Rictook’s advice, who had shared this with her in his final days, Tacticnok waited silently. He’d advised her that it was the surest way to restore the throne’s authority.

  Roknick took in the stares of the other advisors. Their eyes were unforgiving. He had a decision to make. If he wanted to remain in Tacticnok’s audience, he had to apologize. His other choice was to abdicate his position and leave the throne room.

  Roknick’s decision was made by observing Tacticnok. Like her father, the new ruler waited without any intention of responding to him or allowing the meeting to continue until his affront was handled. He decided that being part of the hierarchy afforded him more opportunity to direct the course of his race’s future.

  “I regret my outburst, Your Excellency, and I beg your forgiveness,” Roknick said. The apology burned in his throat.

  “It’s given,” Tacticnok replied magnanimously. Then after a short delay, she added, in a firm tone, “But understand, Master Roknick, our patience isn’t infinite.”

  In the meantime, Pickcit, the master economist, had ruminated on Tacticnok’s goals. Like Tiknock and Jaktook, he supported the new ruler. After receiving Tacticnok’s recognition, he said, “It’s understood that the Pyreans offer us no economic value. Anything the Tsargit bestows on them will be sorely needed to build their beleaguered system. I must assume that you want something intangible from them.”

  “The gates,” Jaktook interjected, addressing his fellow advisors. He believed that Tacticnok had established her authority, and there was value to engaging the others directly.

  With a subtle upward palm motion, Tacticnok signaled her assent of Jaktook’s words.

  Pickcit and Tiknock regarded Jaktook thoughtfully. For all their acumen and experience, they could see that their new ruler was thinking far in advance of them.

  However, Roknick in his hubris believed he could offer assistance to the fledgling advisor. “The non-alliance gates have been explored by yourself and others,” he said. “The danger has been identified. This is now a matter for the Tsargit.”

  “How great is the problem?” Jaktook replied to Roknick.

  The question stumped the master strategist. All he could offer by way of a response was, “That’s for the Tsargit to determine.”

  “How?” Jaktook pursued.

  Suddenly Tacticnok’s earlier pronouncements made sense to Pickcit and Tiknock.

  “The only way to determine the scope of the problem is to investigate the extent of the Colony’s expansion,” Tiknock reasoned.

  “And who among the alliance races will volunteer to do what our intrepid explorers accomplished?” Pickcit asked Roknick.

  The answer was no one. The Colony was an insidious mix of species, who were uplifted by the Messinants. They lived for territorial expansion, and it was assumed that they were depleting their home world’s resources through uncontrolled population growth.

  The Colony species were venomous. The larger entities, called reds by the explorers, reached a length of five meters, and their pincers could easily separate a sentient’s head from the body.

  The only explorers desperate or brave enough to investigate the Colony’s actions were a group of Pyreans; two Jatouche, Jaktook and Kractik; and one Crocian, the magnificent Mangoth of the Logar.

  “The Colony can’t journey to any alliance dome,” Roknick pointed out. “They’re contained.”

  “That’s limited thinking, Master Roknick,” Jaktook shot back. “We discovered the Colony constructing a secondary dome, which was distant from their home world, to house a shuttle launch site. They’ll usurp habitable worlds from whatever species are resident there. They’ll continue to search out worlds that the Messinants discovered and created access to by virtue of the domes and gates.”

  “You make my point, Jaktook,” Roknick replied, forgoing Jaktook’s title. “The Colony is limited to non-alliance worlds.”

  “For how long?” Jaktook returned.

  Roknick was tiring of the new advisor’s repeated questions, most of which couldn’t be answered. “Forever,” he replied peevishly.

  “All things are possible in time,” Pickcit offered.

  “True,” Tiknock agreed. “Alliance members will sit secure behind their blocked gates until the Colony finds a way to circumvent them. In the meantime, the alliance will stagnate. No new gates will be crossed to greet a new race for fear of meeting the Colony.”

  “How would the Colony cross blocked gates?” Roknick inquired, surprised to be imitating Jaktook.

  “If we knew that, we’d be prepared to prevent it,” Pickcit replied. “As it is, the Tsargit must act, or we’ll await the inevitable future when the Colony’s numbers overwhelm us.”

  “Masters,” Jaktook said, “you’re forgetting one possible approach to our world. What if the Colony figures out how to reach alliance worlds via space?”

  “Impossible,” Roknick declared.

  Tacticnok raised a hand off her leg, and the advisors stilled.

  “We won’t solve the dilemma of the Colony this cycle,” Tacticnok said. “I’ve announced my priorities so that you seek ways to further my aims. The Colony is a danger to the Tsargit and every alliance member, including the Jatouche. The sooner we discover the extent of their activities, the better for us, and we mustn’t count on the Tsargit to do it for us.”

  Tacticnok rose and so did her audience. She exited the throne room, and Jaktook let the advisors precede him out the public entrance. Then he followed Tacticnok’s path to her private apartment.

  When Jaktook saw Tacticnok’s peeved expression, he chittered in sympathy.

  “My first audience and it was completely unsatisfactory,” Tacticnok complained.

  “I didn’t think so,” Jaktook replied. He yearned to comfort her, but he hadn’t the right. Male or female, Jatouche could choose their mates, but in the case of a ruler, only she had the right.

  “It was important to educate the other advisors on your goals, and you did that,” Jaktook added.

  “With your help,” Tacticnok pointed out.

  Jaktook shook his head in disagreement. It was an intimate gesture, which Tacticnok forgave.

  “The challenge was to get the other advisors thinking like us … seeing the Colony for the danger they represent and realizing that the Tsargit will dither for generations over what to do,” Jaktook said. “Pickcit and Tiknock heard you. They’ll be considering your goals.”

  “Roknick won’t,” Tacticnok added.

  “I doubt he ever will,” Jaktook said, as they settled on pallets.

  “I’d like to dismiss him,” Tacticnok said heatedly. Immediately, she held up a hand to stop Jaktook’s objection. She quickly added, “Yes, I know. We’ve discussed this. Roknick has too many supporters. We’d anger them if I dismissed him.”

  “You’re upset about something else. What is it?” Jaktook asked.

  “I wanted to be regal, contained, like
my father, when he sat on the throne,” Tacticnok complained.

  “I thought you did a wonderful job,” Jaktook said. He resisted the urge to take her hand.

  “And that’s the problem. That’s not me. I’m not my father,” Tacticnok said. She’d leapt up from her pallet, as she’d voiced her dissatisfaction with her performance.

  A staff member, who was bringing refreshments, saw the monarch’s agitated state, and she quietly turned around and slipped out of the room.

  “Why are you trying to imitate your father? He wouldn’t expect that of you,” Jaktook replied.

  “Because they expect it,” Tacticnok railed, gesturing toward the throne room.

  “I don’t expect it, and I don’t think Pickcit and Tiknock expect it either,” Jaktook replied softly.

  Tacticnok’s frustration with herself eased. She regarded Jaktook and said, “I assumed they would want the same regal performance.” Deflating, she resumed her pallet.

  “What type of ruler would you like to be?” Jaktook asked.

  Tacticnok’s penetrating question echoed her thoughts. She imagined being the first Jatouche ruler. Her species would be without precedence.

  “I want to participate … join the discussion, challenge the advisors, and argue my point,” Tacticnok said. Then she added, “But I’m afraid that attitude would intimidate them.”

  “It might, if you don’t forewarn them,” Jaktook suggested. “Or is it, perhaps, that you’re afraid to match wits with the master advisors?”

  Tacticnok’s eyes flashed. For the briefest of moments, she was astounded that Jaktook had the temerity to challenge her. Then she saw the mirth in his eyes. She thought to tease him in reply, but her father had warned her that her actions could easily be misconstrued because of her authority.

  Tacticnok casually said, “For now, one master heeds my words, and if the others can’t manage a female’s challenge, I can always replace them.” She flashed her teeth to indicate that she was wise to Jaktook’s attempt to manipulate her.

  “I’ll warn the others that you said that,” Jaktook chittered. He was relieved to hear Tacticnok regain her emotional footing.

  Tacticnok reached out and patted Jaktook’s hand in appreciation of his efforts. She left her hand on his a few moments longer than necessary, relishing the contact.

  “Your Excellency,” a staff member said from the doorway, not wanting to intrude. “You have a call from Rissness dome.

  “Urgent?” Tacticnok asked.

  “A Veklock triumvirate has arrived. They’re requesting the Jatouche monarch,” he replied.

  -2-

  Triumvirate

  “Our apologies, Monarch Tacticnok, for the poor timing of our arrival, and our condolences on the passing of your father,” Patrus said. He was one of the two males of the Veklock triumvirate.

  “Your words are appreciated, Patrus of the Veklocks,” Tacticnok replied.

  As Tacticnok and Jaktook had hurried to a comm station, he’d advised her to meet with the triumvirate regardless of their intentions.

  “We’ll not keep you at this tenuous time in your reign,” Patrus announced. “We journey to meet with the Pyreans, and we thought it appropriate to inform you.”

  “I’d meet with your triumvirate before you journey to Triton,” Tacticnok offered.

  “We travel on the authority of the Tsargit,” Patrus stated officially. “We’ve communications from the alliance council to share with Envoy Harbour. We can confer with you on our return.”

  Jaktook emphatically signaled a negative with his hand, and Tacticnok nodded in agreement.

  “I dislike instructing Tsargit representatives in the course of their duties, but under the circumstances, I must,” Tacticnok replied, summoning an imperial imitation of her father. “Pyre isn’t an alliance member, agreed?”

  “A simple truth,” Patrus allowed.

  “The Jatouche have established the initial relationship with the Pyreans,” Tacticnok continued.

  “Then you’re insisting on your right to control alliance contact with this race,” Patrus finished.

  “I am,” Tacticnok replied.

  “Then we must reluctantly accept. Where and when would you like to meet?” Patrus asked.

  “I’ll detail an escort for you to Rissness Station. You’ll be more comfortable there while I transfer to the station by shuttle,” Tacticnok said.

  “We await your coming, Monarch Tacticnok,” Patrus replied and ended the call. He was perturbed when he glanced at his mates, and his ring of neck feathers ruffled.

  “That was unexpected,” Pesart, the second male of the triumvirate, said.

  “For a newly elevated and young ruler, she stands her ground,” Opalus, the female, added.

  “It was a mistake on my part to seek to proceed to the Pyrean dome without permission,” Patrus admitted. “The information on the humans says that they’re a backward race. I wanted to speed our visit, communicate our message, confirm the details, and then leave, as soon as possible.”

  “Your statement indicates that you believe a technologically limited race offers no advantage to the alliance. This has been proven incorrect,” Opalus admonished. Her throat feathers fluttered to indicate her irritation. “The Tsargit learned of the Colony’s activities because of the efforts of the humans. If our assignment is to be successfully concluded, we must heed the monarch’s advice.”

  While the Veklock triumvirate made their way from the dome and through the tunnels to catch a shuttle to Rissness Station, Tacticnok made preparations to join them.

  “Jaktook, communicate quickly to Kractik,” Tacticnok ordered. “We must hurry to meet the Veklocks. As Tsargit emissaries, they’ll be impatient to execute their duties. Kractik and you will accompany the triumvirate to Triton.”

  “As you wish,” Jaktook replied and hurried to a comm station.

  Tacticnok took a lift to an apartment two floors below. The Pyreans were in residence there. As soon as she entered the apartment, the staff began packing the Pyreans’ duffel bags.

  “Are we leaving, Your Excellency?” Lindsey asked.

  “Promptly,” Tacticnok replied. “A Veklock triumvirate has arrived to visit Pyre. They’ve been sent by the Tsargit.”

  “Is that a good thing?” Sasha asked.

  “It will be if we manage them well,” Tacticnok replied. “We’ll meet them at Rissness Station.”

  “What are your concerns, Your Excellency?” Tracy asked, as the staff bustled around them.

  “The Tsargit will have granted the emissaries wide latitude in the performance of their duties. But be assured, the Tsargit has a habit of getting more than full return for whatever the Veklock triumvirate offers your race,” Tacticnok explained.

  “Essentially, the Veklocks journey to Pyre to negotiate,” Tracy summarized.

  “Essentially,” Tacticnok replied.

  Tracy was the first to laugh. Sasha and Lindsey followed, and then Tacticnok belatedly chittered her delight. They’d come to the same conclusion. The Veklocks would sit across a conference table from Captain Jessie Cinders and Envoy Harbour.

  Several days later, Tacticnok’s royal shuttle decelerated to dock at the enormous Rissness Medical Station. They arrived on the nocturnal cycle of most of the station’s medical staff and its clients. The royal apartments were opened for Tacticnok and Jaktook, while Kractik and the Pyreans were provided rooms of their own. Refreshments were provided, and they rested until the station entered a period of activity.

  The three races met after morning meal. They were a contrast in appearance. Their few similarities were that they were bipedal, possessed two arms and hands, of a sort, and had medial symmetry.

  Humans were of a middle height and the less adorned of the three species. The Jatouche averaged about two-thirds of the humans’ height. Their colorful fur, tufted ears, short muzzles, and bushy tails clearly set them apart.

  The Veklocks were a feathered and winged race. They stood a half-meter tal
ler than the Pyreans. Their necks and legs were long and thin. White feathers adorned their wings and bodies. Long, colored feathers sprouted in a ring around the base of their necks. Their beaks were straight, lengthy, and orange, and their wings hung down their backs.

  Everyone paused to allow the ear wigs to update. Soft beeps signaled the end of the translation apps’ exchanges. Then Patrus introduced the triumvirate, and Tacticnok did likewise for her party.

  Tech staff had arranged the conference room to accommodate the physiques of the races. At Tacticnok’s request, the techs supplied a round table. It would suit the Veklocks’ dispositions.

  “We’ve waited to hear your concerns, Monarch Tacticnok,” Patrus said. “What are they?”

  “How do you intend to proceed from the Pyreans’ moon, Triton?” Tacticnok asked.

  The Veklocks glanced in confusion at one another.

  “We expect to journey as we always would,” Pesart, the second male, replied. “At the dome, we’d request the console operator contact Envoy Harbour to expect our arrival. Then we’d take a shuttle to the planet.”

  Tracy chuckled at the translation, and three bright orange beaks turned her way.

  “The Pyrean’s reaction is understandable,” Tacticnok said, raising her hands to implore the triumvirate’s forbearance. “Obviously, you’re not well-informed about the conditions at Triton and Pyre. There are no shuttle services from Triton to the planet, and you won’t find the envoy inhabiting the few domes on the tormented planet.”

  Patrus prepared to speak, but a subtle squawk from Opalus, the triumvirate female, stilled him.

  “We indeed do seem to be unprepared to navigate the Pyrean system,” Opalus said. “What assistance can you offer us, Monarch?” she asked.

  “Master Advisor Jaktook, a trusted companion, will accompany you, if …” and Tacticnok paused to punctuate her next phrase, “if you’re willing to take his guidance.”

  “Is this necessary?” Patrus queried Opalus.

  “Apparently,” Opalus replied tartly. She rapidly clicked her beak to indicate her repudiation of her mate. Turning to Tacticnok, she asked, “What other issues will we encounter which are nonstandard alliance conditions?”