Identity Crisis

by Sarah Ettritch

  She lifted the craft off again, hoping to glean more clues as they flew to the station, but those in the know remained tight-lipped. They didn’t encounter anyone when they transferred to the shuttle, making Lesley wonder if the area had been cleared before their arrival. The sight of this particular group would set tongues wagging.

  Her suspicion was confirmed as the shuttle approached 72. “I’ll deal with station control,” Jensen said. She directed her next words to her comm unit. “This is Admiral Jensen. We should be cleared for docking.”

  “Bay 7 is clear,” came the reply. “We’ve been advised that you’ll be using the maintenance elevator.”

  “Correct. Is the conference area on Deck 14 still secure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Jensen out.”

  Not having docked a shuttle outside of a simulator in years, Lesley concentrated on ensuring that her important passengers would enjoy a smooth arrival. Mo could do this in her sleep. Mo...if she goes into labour tonight... A beep indicated that the shuttle had docked. Lesley opened the bay door and turned in her seat. “It’s safe to exit.”

  Everyone else rose. “Wait here,” Jensen said to her. “We shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

  “No, come with us,” Hall said.

  Jensen’s lips thinned. “This meeting is strictly need to—”

  “Since Commander Thompson knows we’re all here, she might as well know why.”

  Jensen stared at him for a moment, then said, “As you wish.”

  “I’d like to know why we’re here,” Laura said quietly to Lesley as they trailed after the others. “What’s so important that the Chosen Council Heads have been kept in the dark?”

  They reached the elevator before Lesley could respond. Nobody spoke as they rode up to Deck 14. The corridors leading to the conferencing area were eerily deserted. When the group strode into Conference Room 3, an officer sitting near the head of the oblong table rose and stood at attention. According to her insignia, she was a lieutenant commander in the Defence Division.

  “At ease.” Jensen pulled out a chair next to the officer’s and sat. Lesley chose a place toward the other end of the table. She was only here as a courtesy, and decided to remain silent and observe. Someone closed the door behind her. When everyone was seated, Jensen gestured toward the officer, who was still standing. “This is Lieutenant Commander Higgs from the Osprey. I’ll let her fill everyone in. Lieutenant Commander, you have the floor.”

  Higgs moved to the panel that controlled the large monitor hanging at the front of the room and pressed a button. The monitor flickered to life. An image of an unfamiliar ship drifting in space filled the screen. “Approximately forty-two hours ago, the Osprey encountered a Danlion cargo ship on a course to Rymel,” Higgs said, her voice quavering slightly. Lesley wasn’t sure whether it was the shocking knowledge that a Danlion ship was so close to the planet that was unnerving her, or addressing two admirals and two Chosen Heads. A Danlion ship, so close to Rymel? As alarming as that was, there had to be more. The Osprey wouldn’t have any trouble destroying a cargo ship, or turning it around. A fighter could do it.

  “After we had repeatedly attempted to make contact without success, we boarded the ship. I led the reconnaissance team.” The monitor displayed silent images of what Lesley assumed to be the interior of the cargo ship. The cam-wearer, likely Higgs, was moving down a corridor. “At first we wondered whether the vessel was abandoned, but then we picked up a faint life sign. As we moved toward the source of the life sign, we cleared each area. Not far from our destination, we found this.”

  Gasps filled the air when the two strike team members on the monitor parted.

  “They were all dead,” Higgs said quietly.

  “What killed them?” Hall asked.

  “We’ll get to that in a moment,” Jensen, relishing being in the know, said. “Go on, Lieutenant Commander.”

  “We continued toward the life sign. We suspected that a Danlion was hiding in one of the rooms near the command centre.” Higgs moistened her lips. “I tossed in a neurolock grenade,” she said, sounding apologetic. Lesley, who would have done the same, wondered why Higgs regretted the action.

  “What’s that?” Stevens asked.

  “I’m sorry.” Higgs turned to him. “A neurolock grenade releases a paralyzing agent into the air.”

  Stevens grunted.

  “We waited for the agent to take effect, then rushed inside.” Higgs pointed toward the monitor. “The haze is due to the paralyzing agent.”

  The image bobbed as Higgs moved toward the life sign. Suddenly another team member was pushing in front of Higgs. The haze began to clear. The team member straightened. Lesley sucked in her breath. Others gasped again.

  A baby.

  “Did it survive?” Ellis asked.

  “Yes. Our team’s physician administered the antidote. Neurolock grenades aren’t normally lethal, but they’re not meant to be used against children, and certainly not against infants. If I’d known...” Higgs lifted her hands, then dropped them.

  “It looks small.”

  “The physicians believe that she was less than a day old when we found her,” Higgs said.

  “Was it the only survivor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “Down the hall, in the infirmary,” Jensen said. “And now you all know why we’re here, and why this information is of the strictest confidence.”

  Stevens cleared his throat. “Perhaps I’m being thick, but I don’t understand why we’re here. The baby’s Danlion. We give it back. Case closed.”

  Lesley murmured agreement along with a couple of others at the table.

  “I’m afraid it’s not that straightforward,” Jensen said.

  “Why not?” Hall asked. “Why is the...subject here, rather than on the Osprey, or the cargo ship? What is there to discuss? I’m sure the Jessimites would be willing to take the subject from us and hand it over to the Danlions. Does it need medical treatment? Is that why it’s here? What can 72’s infirmary do for it that the Osprey’s can’t?”

  “It’s a girl,” Higgs said softly. “She’s—”

  Jensen cut across her. “The Danlion ship was on a direct course to Rymel. We wondered why, so we put feelers out over the diplomatic channels and reviewed diplomatic communiqués and intelligence, to see if we could find any clues as to why a Danlion cargo ship would make a beeline for our planet.”

  “There was nothing in the ship’s records?” Laura asked.

  Jensen shook her head. “We found the following Danlion communiqué, which had been passed on to us by the Jessimites.” She read from her comm unit. “‘Dangerous political prisoners escaped our custody and are on a cargo ship with the following identifier.’” Jensen looked up. “Which matches the ship adrift in our space.” Her head went down again. “‘We advise destroying the ship on sight.’”

  “Why wasn’t the Osprey aware of this?” Hall asked.

  Jensen’s mouth pinched. “We don’t take orders from the Danlions, and the suspected location provided in the communiqué is nowhere near our coordinates, and certainly not deep within our space.”

  “I don’t see how this changes anything,” Stevens said. “The subject isn’t dangerous. We can give it back.”

  “Oh, but she is dangerous—to them.” Jensen clasped her hands on the table. “We asked the Jessimites to share with us everything they have on the Danlion political situation. The Danlions don’t select their...rulers. Their leader is born into it. They’ve had the same ruling family for years now. But we all know how they love to fight each other, and this family is no exception, especially when so much power is at stake. Cousins kill cousins, brothers kill sisters, and vice versa. There have even been cases of patricide and matricide. I doubt any of them lead their people for more than five minutes.”

  “What does this have to do with anything?” Ellis asked.

  “Two branches of this ruling famil
y have been fighting for dominance. The balance of power constantly tips between them. One branch has pulled ahead and was well on its way to eliminating the other branch. It captured the one remaining son and his, uh, mate. They were to be publicly put to death, and the eradication of that branch of the family celebrated.” Jensen raised her finger. “But a few supporters broke them out of confinement and escaped on a cargo ship. Those who participated in the plan and remained behind were executed.”

  “Why would anyone help the losing side, knowing they’d face certain death?” Hall murmured.

  “Because they knew the mate was pregnant. Sometimes you run from one battle so you can return another day and claim victory.”

  “So this baby down the corridor is the last surviving member of that branch of the family?” Laura asked.

  “Correct. As long as that child is alive, the Danlion ruler and his heirs can’t sit easy.”

  Stevens’ brow furrowed. “The subject isn’t in a position to kill anyone.”

  Jensen curtly shook her head. “They’ll kill her. The moment she’s handed over and the Jessimites turn their backs, she’ll be dead.”

  Several around the table spoke at once. “They wouldn’t!”

  “That doesn’t change anything.”

  “It’s a baby.”

  “Are you sure? That sounds incredible to me.”

  Lesley wondered if Hall would have called her in to be his pilot if she hadn’t still been in her office, because this was a no-win situation. She wouldn’t decide the child’s fate, but that didn’t matter. She would have preferred to be blissfully unaware of the dilemma. If they sent the child back...at the same time, the child couldn’t remain here...

  “I said I’d explain the deaths of the Danlions on board the ship,” Jensen said loudly, effectively silencing everyone. “They committed suicide. We estimate that they died approximately two hours before we boarded it. They did it for the child.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Hall said. “Why would they enter Rymellan territory, set course for the planet, and then kill themselves when they came into range of one of our ships?”

  “Because they hoped we wouldn’t be as barbaric as their own people are.”

  Stevens blew out a sigh. “We’re not barbarians. At the same time, this baby isn’t our responsibility.”

  “Permission to speak freely,” Fisher, Jensen’s aide, said.

  “Please do. And that goes for everyone,” Jensen said, scanning the faces at the table. “I’m sure Admiral Hall would agree.”

  “I do. But there’s only one course of action, here.” Hall paused. “As unfortunate as it will be, we should contact the Jessimites and arrange to give the child to them, so they can hand it over to the Danlions.”

  “Maybe they’ll keep it,” Stevens said.

  Jensen shook her head. “They won’t. The Jessimites strive to maintain friendly relations with everyone, and they’re much more vulnerable to hostile action from the Danlions than we are. If we hand the child over to them, they’ll give her to the Danlions, which is why we haven’t informed them of our encounter with the Danlion ship.”

  “So only Rymellans know about this?” Hall said.

  “Yes.”

  “How many know about the baby?”

  “Those of us in this room. A handful of medical personnel, both here and on the Osprey. The team that boarded the Danlion ship. Captain Standish and Lieutenant Commander Hollins of the Osprey. That’s all.” Jensen peered at Fisher. “You wanted to say something?”

  “Yes, Admiral.” Fisher cleared his throat. “I agree with Admiral Hall. We have to hand the baby back to the Danlions. We shouldn’t interfere with the culture or politics of other, uh, human civilizations.”

  “Civilizations?” Jensen snorted. “I’ll sum up Danlion civilization for you.” She pointed her finger at him. “You’re dead. I’m taking over. There, that took all of five seconds.”

  Fisher’s nostrils flared. “Be that as it may, it’s not our place to interfere. We wouldn’t appreciate it if the Danlions sheltered a Rymellan who’d committed a capital violation.”

  “That could never happen.”

  “Hypothetically speaking, we wouldn’t appreciate it. In fact, we’d likely consider it an act of war.”

  “The baby in the infirmary isn’t a criminal,” Laura said.

  “They might not consider someone who’s committed a Chosen Violation a criminal.”

  “In our case, the Rymellan would be at least sixteen years of age and have committed an act that we consider criminal. The baby down the corridor is a child and is completely innocent. She’s done nothing. She hasn’t violated whatever rules they have. Her existence threatens someone through no fault of her own.” Laura jabbed her finger onto the tabletop. “By not handing her over, we wouldn’t be interfering with their culture. We’d merely not be pandering to someone’s paranoia.”

  “If we don’t hand her over, what do you propose we do with her, Commodore Finney?” Ellis asked. “She’s not Rymellan.”

  Laura didn’t reply. Neither did anyone else. Lesley certainly couldn’t answer the question. What would they do with her? Nobody would want her. Look at Jayne. Despite being Rymellan, her parents’ crimes had tainted her. When she was twelve, Rymellans had petitioned for her execution, and the announcement of the triad had demonstrated that even though she’d followed the Way since her parents’ deaths, she was still regarded with suspicion. Two Rymellans had almost killed her... Nobody would trust this baby. Nobody would want this child in their home, around their children, in the classroom, at the Indoctrination Academy. She wasn’t Rymellan. She couldn’t remain here.

  Still, returning her to the Danlions, knowing that they’d kill her... Maybe Rymellans could somehow shelter her without exposing her to other Rymellans. How they’d do that eluded Lesley, but she felt compelled to explore other avenues. “Can we determine her potential strength in the Way?”

  Everyone turned to her.

  “I know that’s usually determined by the Chosen Council when selecting Chosens, but—”

  “The fact that they might kill the child is proof of this child’s barbaric nature,” Hall said.

  “No, the commander has a point.” Jensen said. “If we were to determine that this child’s potential strength in the Way exceeds an acceptable threshold, that might provide us with more options than giving her back.”

  Stevens’ face flushed. “No, it wouldn’t! The child isn’t Rymellan. Being Rymellan isn’t about plucking random humans from the universe and evaluating them. It’s tracing one’s ancestry through generations of Rymellans who’ve lived, and sometimes died, for the Way. It’s bloodlines, heritage, history...I’m surprised the commander doesn’t understand that.”

  Blood rushed to Lesley’s cheeks. Of course she understood it! At the same time, condemning an innocent child to be slaughtered because she wasn’t Rymellan didn’t sit well.

  “I’d like to know the child’s potential strength in the Way,” Laura said quietly.

  “To what end?” Stevens said, his expression pained.

  “I agree with the admiral. The more information we have, the better. We’re deciding the fate of a human being, a life.”

  “But a decision implies options. We don’t have any. The child isn’t Rymellan. We have to hand her over,” Ellis said.

  Laura gave a curt shake of her head. “It seems to me that we’re forgetting the spirit of the Way.”

  “The Way is for Rymellans. If we protect this child, then why shouldn’t we protect everyone who’s running from trouble?” Ellis pointed toward the door. “What if an entire ship of Danlions arrived, running from their ridiculous wars? Would we protect them, too?”

  “Can we stick to actualities, not hypotheticals?” Jensen said.

  “What’s the difference between one child and hundreds of Danlions fleeing from certain death?” Stevens pressed.

  “The difference is that the child is innocent, real
, and in our custody while we sit here going around in circles!” Jensen snapped. “Can you measure her potential strength in the Way, or not?”

  “Of course we can. We’ll need help, though,” Stevens mumbled.

  Hall ran his hand through is hair. “How many more?”

  Stevens glanced at Ellis. “Two scientists?” She nodded.

  “Make sure it’s people you trust.”

  His face tightened. “I trust all my people.”

  With that settled, Hall turned to Jensen. “Why is the baby here? Why couldn’t it have remained on the Osprey?”

  “It’s more difficult to keep a secret on a ship. We had to evacuate here, but everyone assumed it was a drill. The Osprey is maintaining its position, waiting for orders.”

  “I’m willing to allow the Chosen Council to evaluate strength in the Way, but I haven’t heard anything that’s swayed me from my original position.” Hall looked at the Chosen Council Heads. “How long do you need?”

  “A full evaluation will take the usual five days.”

  “I want your results tomorrow.”

  Stevens’ eyes bulged. “You’ll get our best guess, then,” he sputtered.

  “We don’t need specifics, just a general idea. I doubt she’ll be a borderline case.” He nodded to Higgs. “Thank you for your report, Lieutenant Commander. We can take it from here. Dismissed.”

  Irritation flashed across Jensen’s face, but she nodded at Higgs and said, “Good work. I’ll update you as necessary.”

  Higgs returned Jensen’s nod and left the room.

  Hall rose. “We’ll meet at headquarters at 17:00 tomorrow. Stevens and Ellis, be ready for pickup at 16:15. We don’t want the baby on this station any longer than it has to be, so I want a decision by the time the meeting adjourns tomorrow night.”

  Jensen rolled back her chair and stood. “With all due respect, I—”

  “This became an Interior matter the moment you brought the baby onto this station. We now have a Danlion a stone’s throw away from the planet. I’m going along with the evaluation, but we all know where this is going.” He strode toward the door.

  Lesley scrambled to her feet. Nobody spoke on the way back to the shuttle bay. The majority were clearly at odds with Jensen. Laura seemed to be leaning toward not giving the baby back. As for herself, she could understand both sides. Rymellans wouldn’t welcome interference in their affairs. At the same time, could they really give the baby back without hesitation? Would they go home that night and sleep? On the other hand, nobody had answered the question of what they’d do with her if they didn’t return her to the Danlions. Lesley couldn’t see a pleasant resolution to the situation.