Veklocks

by S. H. Jucha

  “How did you converse with them?” Hangor asked. He was intrigued by the aspects of first contact.

  “We used finger pointing, gestures, and a word here and there,” Devon replied.

  “And the Loopah were happy to hand over their weapons to strange aliens, who suddenly appeared in their dome?” Mangoth asked dubiously.

  Aurelia glanced guiltily at the floor. “We traded for the weapons,” she said.

  “What did …” Hangor started to ask before the reason for Aurelia’s expression dawned on him. “You taught the Loopah about their console,” he accused.

  As a dome administrator, Hangor was shocked, but Mangoth bellowed his amusement.

  “Remember, my clutch mate, as you so correctly pointed out, the Pyreans are non-alliance members,” Mangoth said, rumbling his pleasure at turning the table on his sibling. “The Tsargit’s strictures don’t apply to them.”

  “Nonetheless, Hangor, we didn’t want you asking about where we’d gone up on the deck,” Harbour explained.

  “Apologies, Envoy,” Hangor replied contritely. It was a bad habit he fought to control. When excited, he spoke first and thought later.

  “No harm done, Hangor,” Harbour said, sending sympathy to the Crocian. “If the Tsargit does grant Pyre some sort of standing, we’ll be forced to follow the rules. That means if we’re going to break them, we need to do it before that happens.”

  Jessie picked up a weapon, and the others crowded around. “We did receive a demonstration of operations,” he said. “The drums in the satchels are full of these.” He opened the breach and pulled out a needle-tipped cylinder.

  “No sights on the weapon,” Devon commented, examining another unit. “Long barrel, which will make it accurate. Simple trigger mechanism, but there’s no safety.”

  Jessie put down his weapon to listen to Devon.

  “I’m going to call these darts,” Devon said, closely examining one of them. “It’s a self-contained projectile, but I’ve no idea of the propellant. It could be explosive in nature or something else.”

  “If the dart injects a toxin that might be of no use to us,” Aurelia commented. “By the time the reds or grays react to it, we could be dead.”

  “We could consider these weapons as prototypes,” Devon suggested. “We test them and see how they work. Then we could try to improve the design. Regardless, we’ve got to be trained on these weapons — learn their rate of fire, swapping drums under pressure, determining firing accuracy, and clearing jammed breaches.”

  Mangoth eyed Devon appreciatively, and said, “Aurelia, your mate is becoming an ever more valuable asset.”

  Aurelia gazed at Devon. “I’ve thought so,” she replied.

  Harbour located her duffel and pulled out the silver case. “Mangoth, Tacticnok gave me something for you.” She opened the case and extracted the medallion and silver chain.

  Rissness Station, having repaired Mangoth more than once, had his body’s dimensions. The chain and medallion were appropriately sized for his stature.

  Mangoth greedily eyed the prize. He’d coveted one ever since he’d heard the broadcasts of the Pyreans’ medallions.

  “Aurelia, if you’ll help me?” Harbour requested.

  Harbour handed one end of the chain to Aurelia, and they walked around each side of Mangoth to drape it around his thick neck. They met behind the Crocian. When Harbour fastened the ends, the medallion began its broadcast.

  Mangoth laid a huge dark-clawed hand over the medallion, and he rumbled with pleasure.

  Hangor placed a hand on Mangoth’s formidable shoulder, and said, “It’s well deserved,” which only heightened the moment’s enjoyment for Mangoth.

  “Ceremony’s over,” Jessie said. “We have to test these weapons.”

  “Where?” Harbour asked.

  Devon had never set down the dart he’d been examining. He’d been imagining firing them at the Colony members. “On Rissness Station,” Devon suggested. “We need a controlled environment for our test, and I’ve a few ideas.”

  Jessie regarded Harbour, and he said, “I say we follow Devon. He’s got more ideas about these weapons than I do.”

  “I’ve communicated to the Norloth and requested they relieve me of my duties as dome administrator for the purpose of joining you,” Hangor said. “The Crocian supreme body has graciously granted me permission.”

  “Time is passing,” Jessie declared. “Mangoth, Hangor, gather what you need for a visit to Rissness Station. We’ll meet you on the deck.”

  * * * *

  “You were correct to wait here, Tacticnok,” Jaktook said. “The Pyreans have already returned to Rissness. Mangoth and another Crocian accompany them.”

  Tacticnok flashed her teeth. “The Tsargit dithers, and the Pyreans act,” she said.

  Jaktook chittered at the comparison. He added, “The dome communicates that the Pyreans and the Crocians are carrying some strange devices, and they’re headed here.”

  “The station?” Tacticnok queried.

  “That’s where the envoy directed the dome techs, who were transporting some of their baggage,” Jaktook replied.

  “This should be interesting,” Tacticnok commented. “Have them brought to me.”

  Tacticnok reclined on a raised pallet in the royal chamber, when Harbour and her entourage entered. She watched the techs pile duffels and satchels on the floor. Then Devon and Jessie deposited elongated rod-shaped tools beside them.

  “Your Excellency, thank you for the recognition,” Mangoth said, touching his medallion.

  “A proper bestowment, Mangoth of the Logar,” Tacticnok replied.

  “May I present my clutch mate, Hangor of the Logar?” Mangoth requested, laying a hand on his sibling’s shoulder.

  “Welcome, Hangor of the Logar,” Tacticnok replied formally, tipping her delicate muzzle to him.

  “Thank you, Your Excellency,” Hangor replied, “and it’s an honor to greet you, Master Advisor Jaktook.”

  Jaktook tipped his muzzle in appreciation.

  “Are you six now?” Tacticnok asked, gesturing for everyone to be seated on the pallets.

  “Yes,” Harbour replied.

  “How many will go?” Jaktook asked with concern.

  “Only one team,” Jessie replied.

  “That’s wise,” Jaktook commented. He didn’t pursue the matter further. That would need to be done privately.

  “What have you discovered?” Tacticnok asked, pointing to the pile of strange tools and bags.

  “Weapons of some kind. We need to test them,” Devon replied.

  “What alliance race had these and offered them to you?” Jaktook asked.

  “I believe that the knowledge of where and how these weapons were acquired shouldn’t be openly shared,” Harbour said. She was staring pointedly at Tacticnok.

  “Acceptable, for now,” Tacticnok allowed.

  “These weapons fire a needle-tipped cartridge that I call a dart,” Devon explained. “A drum feeds the weapon a supply of darts until it empties. I want help from your medical personnel to design target simulations for the tests.”

  Tacticnok and Jaktook exchanged concerned glances.

  “Do you believe they are a danger to the station, Devon?” Jaktook asked.

  “I can’t be one hundred percent sure, but I don’t believe so,” Devon replied. “The race carried these within the dome, which I’m sure they knew would be disastrous to damage. I think these weapons were created for defense against home world predators.”

  “I agree with Devon,” Jessie said. “These darts will be accurate for a short distance. This means the detonation, whatever that means, would be close to the user on impact. The explosion must be low power to prevent injuring the individual firing the weapon.”

  Jaktook glanced at Tacticnok, and she tipped her muzzle.

  “I’ll see to their needs, Your Excellency,” Jaktook said. “Please pick up the dangerous items and follow me. Your baggage will be taken to your
quarters.”

  Jaktook led them to another level and one of the better-appointed accommodations. The sleeping quarters branched off the main salon and were separate for each individual. In the shared space were a table and chairs for eating, a conference area, a lounge area, and access to the adjoining facilities.

  “What do you need, Devon?” Jaktook asked, after the weapons were safely stored.

  “You’ve seen the reds and the grays,” Devon replied. “Give me three reds to use as targets.”

  “Targets?” Jaktook queried. Then he understood the request. “I see. You wish medical to build you tissue replicas.”

  “Exactly,” Devon replied. “We have to know how these darts will work against the Colony members.”

  “Jaktook, was it a mistake to bring these weapons into Tacticnok’s presence?” Harbour asked.

  “This is a complex time for the Jatouche and Her Excellency,” Jaktook replied. He stressed Tacticnok’s title to emphasize that this concerned politics. Freely translated, it meant the relationship of the Jatouche to the alliance and, more likely, the Tsargit. “We’ll create the tests for you, Envoy. It would be best if the presence of weapons aboard this station was limited to a minimum of individuals and only Jatouche.

  “What’s changed, Jaktook?” Jessie asked.

  “Previously, Tacticnok was a royal daughter, and the tools you were given were nonlethal, except for the beam weapon, which you understood wasn’t to be used in the Colony’s original dome,” Jaktook replied.

  “Now she’s your ruler, and we’ve brought what we think are deadly weapons to your station,” Harbour supplied.

  “Just so,” Jaktook agreed.

  * * * *

  Days later, the Pyreans, the Crocians, Jaktook, and a select group of Jatouche stood in a bay that had been prepared for the tests. Engineers had reinforced the internal bulkheads and absorbent, nonflammable material backed seven figures, which resembled the reds.

  “Lifelike,” Jessie commented and shuddered, as he regarded the replicas.

  “Our personnel strived to deliver for you,” Jaktook replied. “They created these from the archives of when the Colony invaded our dome. Medical has intuited the internal tissue and bone components. Your targets will approximate the consistency of the Colony reds. This should make your tests accurate.”

  During the wait for the tests, Devon had thoroughly investigated a Loopah weapon. He examined the dart and the drum. He took the launcher apart, examined the pieces, and reassembled it. Then he taught the others how to do the same. Devon required them to repeat the operating and dismantling procedures over and over, including exchanging the drum blindfolded.

  Devon and Jessie lamented that the medical teams weren’t allowed to investigate a dart’s components. Jaktook wouldn’t allow it. The Pyreans thought it was because it was deemed to be too dangerous. But Jaktook had shaken his head and said that it was preferred that only Pyreans and Crocians handle the weaponry components.

  “How do you wish to proceed?” Jaktook asked, gesturing toward the targets.

  “Everyone, except those on the explorer team, should leave,” Devon suggested. “We’ll use the barrier you erected.”

  Jessie eyed the formidable pile of cargo containers. “I think we’ll be safe there,” he commented. “Jaktook, have someone standby at the bay’s emergency exhaust in case the dart expels a toxic gas.”

  Jaktook pointed to a med device hanging above the targets. “Medical has provided for that eventuality, Advisor.”

  Jaktook waved the Jatouche out of the bay. He confirmed a tech was monitoring the gas sensor and ready to manually operate the exhausts from the corridor, if it failed to function automatically.

  Devon led the group to take up positions behind the makeshift barrier. At his request, the targets were ten meters away.

  “You’re not leaving?” Harbour asked Jaktook. He silently regarded Harbour, and she sensed the conflicting emotions of frustration and desire. Aurelia and she pulled a smaller container from the barrier’s end. They placed it so that Jaktook could stand on it and see the targets.

  “Everyone, stay low,” Devon announced. Then he attached a drum to his launcher and flicked the small lever that loaded the first dart into the breach. He sighted down the tube and squeezed the trigger mechanism.

  The dart hit the central target just below the red’s head. Instantly the neck bulged, and the faux tissue blew outward. The target’s head momentarily held on to the body by a minimal amount of material. Then it pulled free and plopped onto the deck.

  The team rose from behind their protection.

  “Wait,” Jaktook said. He listened to his ear wig. “No toxic gas is detected,” he relayed.

  As Devon and the others walked around the barrier to examine the target’s damage, a med tech ran into the bay to collect his device and examine its readouts.

  “Jaktook, no offense to your medical personnel, but how accurate do they consider this target to the real thing?” Devon inquired.

  “The Messinants were quite consistent in the species biology that they chose to uplift,” Jaktook replied. “Medical believes that they are within four percent of accuracy.”

  “Close enough,” Jessie pronounced.

  “The shrapnel is either nonexistent or it’s in tiny fragments,” Devon said, examining the truncated body. He reached to touch it, and Jaktook said sharply. “Don’t, Devon.”

  The med tech acquired a sample of the destroyed tissue and dropped it into a portable instrument. He frowned at the readings and tested two more samples.

  “There’s no explosive or gaseous residue,” the tech pronounced. “There are small quantities of inert material.” An idea occurred to him, and he scanned the readouts on his gas sensor. “We’ve elevated levels of nitrogen oxides,” he announced.

  “Compressed nitrogen in a non-liquefied state,” Hangor said excitedly. “These are completely safe to use, as long as we don’t shoot ourselves.”

  Mangoth rumbled in amusement at his sibling’s jest.

  “So, the needle aids the dart to bury in the tissue, as it punctures the capsule behind it,” Devon surmised. “Then the compressed gas is released, expanding rapidly and bursting the tissue.”

  “These will be highly effective,” Aurelia commented. “Devon, did you hit where you aimed?”

  “Pretty close,” Devon replied. “The tube allows you to direct the dart’s trajectory accurately.”

  “Let’s remember that the reds and the grays will be a lot closer than these targets,” Jessie said. “It’ll be even easier to hit them.”

  “What are you doing?” Aurelia asked Devon. He was examining the launcher’s breach and frowning.

  “There’s nothing to eject,” Devon replied. “The entire dart left the launcher. The other good news is that the breach has a second dart from the drum. After you load your first dart, you can continue to fire until you empty the drum.”

  “How many darts in a drum?” Hangor asked.

  “No idea,” Devon replied. “The drum appears to need special tools to open, and I didn’t want to empty a drum in case I couldn’t reload the darts.”

  “Mangoth, Hangor, you can see that these darts are deadly against the Colony,” Harbour said, looking up at the Crocians. “Does that affect your decision to go, and if you decide to journey with us, will you use them?”

  “My magnificence will protect me,” Mangoth replied. “I can join the exploration and use my natural defenses.”

  That wasn’t the answer Harbour wanted. She preferred that every member of the team could fire the darts. Mangoth would allow the reds and the grays to get close enough to him to physically attack, but that endangered his fellow explorers.

  Harbour regarded Hangor, and the Crocian said, “I’ll journey with you, Envoy. I told the Norloth that there was the possibility that you would supply us with killing weapons. It was their decision that employing them in non-alliance domes against the Colony would be forgiven.”
r />   “In other words, if no one observes us destroying reds and grays, who will complain to the Tsargit?” Jessie said and laughed at the reasoning.

  “An accurate translation,” Hangor allowed, joining Jessie’s laughter with deep rumbling.

  “We need to practice,” Devon said. “Everyone, pick up a launcher and load a drum. Start at the top of a target and eliminate it a section at a time.”

  Hangor hefted a launching tube and shoved it into Mangoth’s chest, and his clutch mate glowered at him.

  “You forgot to consider one possibility, my magnificent sibling,” Hangor said. “What if the Colony has developed offensive weaponry? What will you do then?”

  Mangoth blinked several times and clutched the launcher. Hangor’s snout nodded up and down in an affirmation of his point. Then he grabbed another launcher and two drums.

  Harbour and Jaktook stood alone by the targets. He was silent, and she watched him, with her gates open.

  “There’s much to consider,” Jaktook said quietly.

  “You want to go, don’t you?” Harbour asked. “Is it for the sake of discovery or because you believe it’s critical?”

  “Both,” Jaktook replied.

  “But you don’t want to leave Tacticnok,” Harbour continued.

  “True,” Jaktook replied.

  “But now that we possess offensive weaponry that we intend to use against sentients, your decision has been further complicated,” Harbour finished.

  Jaktook gazed at Harbour. He focused on her eyes. “I never realized the burden an empath carries,” he said. “Knowing what individuals feel doesn’t necessarily mean that you can help them.”

  “Too true,” Harbour replied, and they chuckled and chittered at their personal challenges. “Come,” she added. “Let’s get out of the firing path before these anxious individuals start target practicing on us.”

  -10-

  Secrets

  Jaktook requested some time with the Crocians before they returned to their home world to wait.

  Meanwhile, the Pyreans packed up their weaponry and duffels. Then Tacticnok’s shuttle carried them to Rissness dome. From there, they journeyed to the Triton dome.