by J. J. Green
Curiosity gripping her, she turned her water scooter up to full speed, and sped off after the soldier. By the time she caught up, they were both at the ship. Hoping that as there were no marsoliie nearby her words wouldn’t be converted to body language, she called out, “Hi, I’m Carrie.” The soldier didn’t reply, so she added, “Thanks for your help back there.”
They were outside the airlock, and the soldier must have radioed her arrival because it was opening. Together, they swam in. The outer door closed, and the water began to drain out. Still the soldier said nothing. Carrie surreptitiously studied her form and enigmatic, opaque visor. The woman seemed familiar. Had she been on the squashpump planet during the hostage siege? Then realisation dawned. As the woman pulled off her helmet and her tawny gold hair tumbled about her shoulders, Carrie exclaimed, “Belinda.”
***
“I don’t BELIEVE that woman.” Carrie threw her wet toolbox into the shower room, where it landed with a crash.
Eyeing the bag, which was dripping seawater, Dave asked “Who?” before returning to arranging his Council Officer’s devices on the top of his locker.
“Belinda!”
“Belinda?” Dave stopped what he was doing and turned to face her. “Not...?”
“Yes, that Belinda,” Carrie said, her eyes ablaze. “Half-dandrobian Belinda who Gavin brought in to take over from me. The Belinda who wouldn’t let us get on board the paperclip with her to go the placktoid ship. The Belinda who refused to listen to the poor oootoon. THAT Belinda.” She sat down with a thump on Dave’s bunk.
“Don’t sit there, you’re all wet.”
Carrie had forgotten she was still in her wetsuit. “Ugh, sorry. I’ll have a shower.” She grabbed a towel and went in, closing the door. “Hey, it’s really clean in here,” she called. While showering, she continued to talk loudly, telling Dave that Belinda was a Unity soldier now, and about her fight with the Group marsoliie, and how she came back to the Council starship and completely ignored Carrie while they were in the airlock, marching off as soon as the inner door was open. She came out of the shower room, rubbing her hair.
“Well, it certainly sounds like she hasn’t changed much,” said Dave.
“You can say that again,” Carrie replied, dropping the towel on the floor. “But why’s she here if she’s a Unity soldier now? This is a Council ship.”
“Maybe she had to deliver a message?” Dave pulled the weapon he had stolen out from under his bunk. He lay down and began to examine it.
“Hey, haven’t you got rid of that yet?” asked Carrie.
“I haven’t had a chance.” He held the green object up to the light. “What a feat of design, though, don’t you think? So much power packed into such a small package. I wonder how it works?” He brought it closer to his eyes and peered at it.
“Don’t go trying to open it up, for goodness sake,” said Carrie. “You could release deadly radiation, or blow up the ship.” She brushed her hair. “Honestly, Dave, you have to get rid of it, and quickly.”
“No time now. We have to go for a meeting.”
“Really? I thought we were finished for the day.”
“Yes, really. It’s in the itinerary. It’s a plenary session to go over our experiences during the practical training.”
Carrie stopped brushing and sighed. “A plenary session, like where everyone gets together and talks? I hate those.”
Dave rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s going to start in five minutes.”
Flattening the stubborn kink in her hair with her hands, Carrie said, “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Aren’t you going to put your stuff away?”
“What stuff?”
Dave picked up the towel and Carrie’s pyjamas from the floor and pushed them into her hands.
“Oh, that stuff,” she said, smiling sheepishly.
As they left their cabin, Gavin appeared round a corner in the corridor. His children seemed to have swollen since Carrie had last seen them. She speculated that they must be approaching their first moult. Gavin was moving more slowly than usual, possibly finally feeling their weight. “Carrie, I would like to have a little chat with you.”
“Sorry, Gavin,” said Dave, grabbing Carrie’s arm and pulling her along. “No time. We’re late for a meeting.” He shuddered as they left the insectoid alien behind. “I hope we go home before those things grow up and leave Daddy.”
They were the last to arrive at the plenary session. It had already begun, and the trainees were taking turns to talk about what they had learned during the mediation process. The faceless hairy alien, who didn’t seem to have a name, was explaining how he had successfully guided the marsoliie to split into small teams of several Singles and one Group, and discuss their feelings. Next it was the turn of the squashpump. She had encouraged the marsoliie to brainstorm words they associated with the current conflict. As the squashpump spoke, Carrie felt a yawn rising in the back of her throat. Why did people have to go into so much detail about everything? Dave nudged her. Carrie’s attention returned to the meeting. There was an expectant silence. It was her turn to speak. “Oh, erm, well, my Groups and Singles came to an agreement to, to divide up the territory and stay out of each other’s way, until they—”
“That is a satisfactory interim outcome,” interrupted Errruorerrrrrhch, “but can you explain what you did to facilitate this productive discussion the marsoliie apparently had?”
Carrie blinked. She tried to remember what she had said. “Erm, well, I’m not sure I did anything in particular. It just seemed to happen.” There were some titters. Her face grew hot. “I made sure they listened to each other, mostly.” She waited for the inevitable cutting remark from Errruorerrrrrhch. But what else could she have said? It was true. She had done very little talking. The Singles and Groups had come to the agreement by themselves. All she had done, after the Group’s fight with the Single and Belinda, was to interfere as little as possible as long as the two sides were prepared to listen.
But Errruorerrrrrhch wasn’t paying attention to her anyway. The manager’s head had swivelled from horizontal to vertical, which meant she was communicating with someone or something far off. Her head resumed its normal position, and she spoke. “It seems we have a new recruit to the training programme. She is approaching at this moment so I will take this opportunity to introduce you.” The door at the back of the room opened, and the trainees turned to see who would enter. “ I would like you to welcome...” A figure appeared. Carrie’s spine stiffened. The new trainee had exchanged her black and silver Unity uniform for the fluorescent orange of the Council. She paused, presumably for effect, in the doorway, statuesque and beautiful. “...Belinda.”
Chapter Fourteen – Too Close For Comfort
Carrie, Dave, Audrey and the oootoon sat at one table at dinner, Belinda, the hairy thing, the squashpump and the insectoid alien sat at another. The light was by itself in the corner, flashing intermittently. Recharging? Carrie wondered. Belinda had her table in stitches with stories she was telling, and from the glances Carrie received from that direction, it seemed most of the stories were about her.
“I bet she’s telling them about my first assignment,” she said to Dave.
He shrugged. “What if she is? You uncovered the truth about what the placktoids were doing and revealed they had developed or stolen gateway technology. You did a great job, in the end.”
Carrie frowned at the final three words of her friend’s comment. “Yes, I did discover all of that. Not that anyone at the Council seems to appreciate it. Or else I wouldn’t be here.”
Dave became very interested in his meal, which was strange because it tasted like something that had already been eaten.
“So, you didn’t get time to talk about what you did today, Dave,” said Carrie, “what with Belinda hogging the end of the session telling everyone about her transfer.”
“Are you talking about that new recruit?” asked Audrey. “Didn’t she say she’s half-da
ndrobian? I thought it was very interesting that she worked as a Liaison Officer before she decided on a career change and became a Unity soldier. Then she came back to the Council because resolving disputes peacefully is her true vocation. So cool.”
Oh yes, very cool, thought Carrie. She wondered whether Belinda’s poor performance on her assignment with the oootoon and placktoids had contributed to her ‘career change’ idea.
“We know all that,” said the box of oootoon. “We were there at the plenary session, too, you know. Where were we? No, I don’t remember that. Who are we talking about? The new one. Pay attention.”
Carrie sometimes wished she could fix her translator to screen out the oootoon. Listening to it explain how it had mediated for the marsoliie had been a farce. It couldn’t agree with itself over what had actually happened. It was wonderful that the creature(s) had decided to separate itself from the rest of...itself...back on its planet, to help the Council deal with the placktoids, but she couldn’t see how it could help, practically.
“SO,” she said, steepling her fingers, “what did you do today, Dave?”
Her friend put down his fork, gratefully, it seemed. “Well, you know, I just reasoned with them. Got them to explain their perspective, then to try to see things from the other side’s point of view. They talked about what had happened in the past. The Singles said how they had lost their friends to Groups, and the Groups explained how they felt they’d enriched the life of every Single who joined them.” He shook his head slightly. “I can’t say they came to any firm resolutions by the end of the meeting, but I think it calmed tensions a lot.”
Carrie sighed. “That sounds really good.” She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “I wish I’d thought of that.” But of course Dave was better than her at being a Liaison Officer. Hadn’t his brain scan found he was ninety-seven per cent compatible with the job, while her result was only thirty-four?
Something ran over Carrie’s foot, and she jumped. She peered under the table and blanched at the sight of one of Gavin’s children climbing her trouser leg. Turning, she saw her Manager had entered the canteen. His offspring were scattering from him as he came, climbing onto tables and chairs and up the walls.
“Right, well, I’m stuffed,” said Dave, pushing his nearly full plate away. “See you later.” He stood, then froze rigid. His eyes sought Carrie’s in a wild, desperate stare as his face turned white. She gave a small scream and pointed. A baby insectoid alien was scaling his shoulder, its little antennae waving.
“Oh, that is adorable,” said Gavin as he approached. “She does not usually climb on other people. She must like you.”
Sweat beaded on Dave’s forehead. His eyes pleaded with Carrie. She gently removed the bug that was crawling up her trousers and placed it on the floor before reaching for the one on her friend. “I’ll see if I can—”
“No, no,” said Gavin, “please do not remove them yourselves. It is important that they learn to do as they are told.”
“Right,” said Dave through his teeth.
An aroma of roast beef mixed with aniseed filled the air as Gavin spoke to the errant child in his species’ language. Carrie’s translator conveyed the words to her mind. “Now then, Jessica, I am certain the nice gentleman would prefer it if you did not climb on him. Is that not so?” The final remark was in English and addressed at Dave, who gave a stiff nod. “So you must climb down immediately.”
But instead of climbing down, the insect scrambled higher, up Dave’s neck and onto his head. Carrie wondered if he would actually faint. She prepared to catch him.
“Jessica. Did you hear me?” Gavin’s child sat in Dave’s hair, where it seemed to be practising moving its inner jaws in and out, catching a few strands each time. Dave trembled. “I do apologise. She is about to moult, and at this stage they can be rather difficult to control.”
“I see,” squeaked Dave.
“I am afraid it is necessary that I use a threat. Most regrettable, but I can see no alternative. I am a first-time father, you see, and unaccustomed to—”
“Go right ahead.” Dave’s tone was strangled.
“Jessica, if you do not descend from the nice gentleman immediately I will be forced to...to take you to see your mother.” Almost too fast to be seen, the young alien scampered down Dave, across the floor and out of the room. Like a building demolished with explosives, Dave collapsed to his chair, but he quickly recovered and grabbed his bag as if to leave. Turning, he stopped and staggered. The canteen was being overrun with Gavin’s children. They were playing tag, eating leftovers and swinging from the backs of chairs. Dave clutched his bag to his chest and he slowly resumed his seat, his eyes darting to and fro all the while, as if searching for an escape route.
“I am pleased that we finally have time for a private chat, Carrie,” said Gavin. Audrey and the oootoon took the hint and left the table.
“Oh, yes, I remember, did you want to tell me something?”
“I was hoping to inform you about your colleague, Belinda, before you encountered her. I was aware you would both be present at the marsoliie meeting. Your initial encounter on the oootoon planet was quite unfortunate, and I was hoping to smooth the path towards a reconciliation between the two of you. After all, your Liaison Officer roles involve improving relations and resolving differences amicably. It would be regrettable if we were unable to set a good example in this area within our own ranks, do you not think so?”
Gavin’s words hit home, and Carrie bit her lip. He was right. She should be trying to be friends, not holding onto a grudge against Belinda, no matter how hard the half-dandrobian made it for her. She really wasn’t a very good Liaison Officer. “Yes, you’re right, I suppose. But why was she working as a Unity soldier? And what’s she doing here?” Gavin would know the truth, and he wouldn’t put a gloss on it.
“Hmm...well, it is not appropriate for me to tell you the personal details of another member of staff, but her performance during your first assignment was not satisfactory, and she appeared unable to take responsibility for her behaviour. She resigned in order to try soldiering with the Unity. That role was apparently not a good fit for her either, and she requested a transfer back to the Council. As we are currently running a recruitment drive, and it looks as though one of the candidates here will not pass the programme, we felt it was an opportune moment to accept her application. By attending the remedial training her former faults will be addressed and hopefully Belinda can rejoin the Council.”
Gavin continued to talk about how Belinda could catch up on the courses she’d missed, but Carrie didn’t hear him. All she could hear was his voice echoing in her head: one of the candidates here will not pass the training. Did he mean her? He must mean her. But if he meant her, why would he just come right out and say it like that? He means someone else, she decided, or he wouldn’t tell me. Then another thought struck her—this must be Gavin’s way of warning her that she was going to fail if she didn’t improve. Her heart sank. Another of her Manager’s children began climbing her leg, but she didn’t notice.
She was already trying her best. How was she supposed to do better?
Chapter Fifteen – A Wet Mess
Overnight, the Transgalactic Council starship moved to a new location on Gaginion. Lying in her bunk, Carrie felt the ship’s motion through the water. It rose and fell gently, but the soothing movement didn’t help her sleep. Over the course of the week, her anger about being made to do remedial training had been replaced by anxiety that the decision had been correct, that she was actually useless at her job. And now her fear was heightened by Belinda’s presence. It would be bad enough to fail, but it would be soul-destroying if Belinda passed but she didn’t.
She turned onto her side and listened to the sound of Dave’s breathing in the bunk below, reminding her of the weapon he had stolen and still hadn’t got rid of. Her focus of worry shifted. Dave was a much better Liaison Officer than her, his stealing habit aside. He deserved to do th
e job, and it seemed as though he was getting over his wariness and enjoying himself. But if he was found with that weapon he’d be kicked off the course at the very least. That would be wrong. He could be a real asset to the Council.
Eventually, she began to drift off and her thoughts became dream-like. As an image of Dave, Belinda and herself standing in a triangle, throwing the weapon to each other like a bomb about to explode, swam hazily through her mind, she fell asleep.
Due to her bad night, Carrie overslept again the next morning. After waking her twice, Dave had to shake her to make her get up and get ready. They were continuing with their practical training that day. The ship had moved to an area of the planet that had a dense population of marsoliie, and Errruorerrrrrhch explained at the airlock that relations between the Singles and Groups in this region were particularly strained. If the Council mediation attempt wasn’t successful, civil war was likely to break out.
“Ordinarily, we would not assign such a sensitive mediation process to trainees, but there are insufficient experienced staff available to address this problem. You have not been able to follow galactic news while aboard ship, but I can tell you that the Council and Unity continue to comb the galaxy for the placktoids without success. It is feared that, wherever they are, the placktoids are approaching a major move to assume complete control of galactic resources and affairs.
“But, to return to your assignments for the day, due to the more strained relations, where a Unity soldier is not available to assist we have selected two trainees to work together. You will be in radio contact. Please consult your briefing devices for more detailed information. Now, are there any questions?”
Carrie eagerly pulled out her transparent tablet. It would make sense to pair her with Dave. They knew each other and shared a room. She scanned the screen. Yes! She did have a partner, and it was—
