by Doug Farren
Chapter 8
Life at the academy quickly became routine. Classes were held five days a week. The sixth day was to be used for studying the materials presented earlier. The seventh was a mandatory day off, no studying allowed. This rule was strictly enforced by the staff as well as the robots assigned to each of the cadets. Tom usually spent his day off either playing chess with Lashpa in the academy rec-center or in town at a small coffee shop known as "The Basement Nook".
Tom had been delighted to learn that Lashpa played chess. Assuming that his Grandmaster status would give him an unfair advantage, he originally planned to take it easy on her. However, during the first game they played, it quickly became apparent she was an expert player.
Three months after arriving at the academy, Tom witnessed an event that demonstrated the full potential of the awesome enhancements with which he would soon be endowed. The previous five days had been challenging. His schedule of classes consisted of xenobiology, Alliance law, astrophysics, space navigation, and micro-molecular electronics. He was seated near the back of the Basement Nook with two of his classmates; Tiffany, a very dark-skinned woman from Earth, seated on his right and Pinipsh, one of the few Omel cadets, seated across from them.
The group had been discussing how the sexes of each of the races relate to one another, when Pinipsh announced he had once been a female.
“You are a rare bird!” Tiffany said, following Pinipsh’s revelation. “A transgender Omel Peacekeeper. Unbelievable!”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Pinipsh said.
“Oh come on!” Tom replied, setting down his flavored coffee. “There are very few Omel Peacekeepers. Finding out that one of them is transgender makes you even more of a novelty.”
“A novelty?” Pinipsh sounded upset. “If you are concerned, I can assure you that I am fully male and just as capable as any other male of my species.”
“I would be willing to verify that,” Tiffany said, through a tight, knowing smile.
“Hey!” Tom said. “I thought you and I had plans.”
Tiffany leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Tom’s cheek. “Still do honey. But it doesn’t mean that later on—”
“I would not be interested,” Pinipsh interrupted. “I prefer the company of other males.”
Tom and Tiffany looked at each other with wide-open eyes. “This just keeps getting better and better,” Tom said.
Pinipsh leaned forward angling himself towards Tom. “I may, however, entertain a similar request from Tom.”
For a brief moment, Tom thought he was serious but after seeing the smile on Pinipsh’s face he broke out laughing. Tiffany looked at the two. Pretending to be serious, she said, “Damn, I was hoping you’d say yes so I could join in the fun too.”
The three friends were having such a good time they barely noticed the argument that had broken out between two men at a nearby table. As their laughter died down, the sounds of a heated argument became more pronounced. Tom glanced over and saw a Tholtaran and a Terran sitting in a booth several meters away.
Although the Nook was known as a quiet coffee house, it did serve liquor resulting in the occasional drunk who would be politely, but firmly, asked to leave. Both the arguing men had obviously consumed one too many. The argument quickly escalated until the Terran threw his drink into the face of the Tholtaran. In an instant, they were both standing and yelling obscenities across the table.
One of the two employees was just rounding the end of the counter intending on breaking up the impending fight when the Tholtaran pulled a weapon from a hidden holster and leveled it at the Terran.
The moment he saw the weapon, Tom said, “Gun!” and started to duck under the table. Showing surprising strength, Pinipsh grabbed the table and flipped it over, providing the cadets with at least some amount of cover. The Tholtaran was waving the gun around yelling in his native language. The first employee quickly retreated while his coworker ducked behind the counter and called the police.
Tom scrambled to get his pad out of his pocket as the Terran slowly backed away from the gun in terror, holding his hands out in front of him. The Tholtaran screamed, saying something about his family and fired. The tiny projectile exploded on impact. The force of the blast knocked the victim into the air and back about four meters. He crashed to the floor and slid to a stop near the cadet’s up-ended table. Tom glanced down and saw a charred crater of burnt flesh in the man's chest. Small wisps of foul smelling steam rose from the blackened remains. The man with the gun was still yelling and waving it around.
A police officer appeared in the doorway. Although he was drunk, the Tholtaran whirled around with incredible speed and fired before the officer had a chance to evaluate the situation. The shot blew his leg in half. The officer went down screaming in pain. A dark figure then appeared in the doorway. The Tholtaran pointed his gun at the new arrival and froze.
"Drop your weapon!" boomed a loud, commanding voice.
A Peacekeeper stood calmly just inside the door, his right hand rested on his still-holstered power gun. The Tholtaran glanced over his shoulder and took a step backward. "Final warning, drop your weapon," the amplified voice repeated.
The Tholtaran screamed like a cornered animal and pulled the trigger hitting the Peacekeeper on his right hip. The force of the explosion knocked the Peacekeeper off balance. Reacting with lightning speed, he planted his left foot on the floor to halt his fall and then instantly launched himself through the air toward his attacker. The Tholtaran's second shot passed through the space previously occupied by the now airborne Peacekeeper, blowing a small hole in the front wall. Before the Tholtaran could fire a third time, he was knocked to the ground by the Peacekeeper’s outstretched arm. Tom heard the distinct crack of a bone breaking and saw the gun fly across the room hitting the opposite wall so hard it took a chunk out of the plaster.
The Peacekeeper calmly reached out, grabbed the still-screaming Tholtaran by the front of his shirt, and lifted him half a meter off the floor with one arm. Holstering his power gun, which had somehow appeared in his hand, the Peacekeeper looked around and said, "An ambulance is on the way. Please remain inside the premises until the police have taken your statements."
Tom and his friends crawled out from under the table and stood up. The Peacekeeper looked in their direction, pointed, and said, “Cadet Wilks, would you hand me that gun please."
Tom picked the weapon up off the floor and handed it over. The Tholtaran had stopped screaming and was now hanging from the cybernetic arm like a rag doll dangling from a steel pole. Focusing his attention on the cadets, the Peacekeeper said, “Please see me outside as soon as you have given the police your statements.” His face-guard had retracted, allowing Tom to recognize him as Maltrup, one of the Shandarian instructors at the academy.
“Yes Sir,” Tom replied.
The ambulance arrived as Maltrup carried the Tholtaran out of the coffee shop. The paramedics quickly grabbed their equipment and poured through the door to attend to the fallen officer. Three police vehicles, sirens blaring, pulled up a few seconds later.
After providing a statement to the police, the three cadets made their way to the street where they found Maltrup talking to one of the officers. “You wanted to talk to us?” Tiffany asked.
“I just need a moment of your time,” Maltrup began. "Can any of you describe either of the two men who were involved in the argument?"
Tom thought for a second and replied, "Not with any precision Sir. I didn’t pay much attention to them when we arrived and as soon as the Tholtaran pulled a gun, Pinipsh flipped the table over to give us some cover."
"I see," Maltrup replied. Looking at Pinipsh he said, "Good thinking cadet. Can you describe the two men?”
“The Tholtaran was wearing a brown leather, loose-fitting jacket with long sleeves and appeared to be around 50 years old. Based on the way he handled his weapon I would guess he might be ex-military. The Terran was wearing a light-blue, short-sleeved shirt a
nd tan shorts with black tennis shoes. I would put his age at around forty-three.”
Maltrup turned and looked at Tiffany, clearly expecting a response. “I’m sorry,” she replied, lowering her head. “I didn’t get a very good look at either of them.”
“There is a lesson to be learned here,” Maltrup told them. “A Peacekeeper should always be aware of his surroundings. Keen observation of any event should become second nature for you. If the Tholtaran had run out of the bar after shooting the deceased, would you have been able to supply a sufficiently adequate description for the police to begin a search?"
Embarrassed, Tom and Tiffany both shook their head.
"Remember, you are at all times a Peacekeeper, whether you are actually on duty or not. People will expect you to see more than a normal person. Any questions?"
"What will happen to the Tholtaran?" Pinipsh asked.
"Weapons of any sort are absolutely forbidden on Centralis. He will be questioned until we determine where he obtained the gun. There are also the charges of murder and attempted murder. He will most likely not be executed, but I imagine he will spend the rest of his life performing hard labor. Would any of you like a ride back to the academy?"
Looking around, Tom spotted Maltrup’s tricycle in the middle of the street parked next to one of the police cars. The sleek three-wheeled vehicle was the Peacekeeper’s primary mode of surface transportation. Although it could carry a single passenger, the seating was cramped, uncomfortable, and exposed to the elements.
Seeing where he was looking, Maltrup smiled and said, “I was going to ask one of the police officers to give you a lift.”
“I don’t know about you guys,” Tom said, turning to his friends. “But I think I’ll walk. The academy is only a few kilometers from here.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Tiffany said.
“I will walk as well,” Pinipsh added.
“Very well,” Maltrup replied.
There was very little conversation on the walk back to the academy. The cheerful attitude that existed earlier had been replaced by silent introspection. Tom kept replaying the scene from the coffee shop over and over in his head. Maltrup’s armor had easily brushed off the attack. He had reacted with lightning speed using only enough force to quickly subdue the Tholtaran. “Some day,” he thought, “I will have similar capabilities.” Such power! It was an awesome responsibility to bestow upon any individual.
Pinipsh said good night, leaving Tiffany and Tom alone in the elevator. “Tiffany,” Tom said. “You don’t—”
She interrupted him by putting a finger on his lips. “I would rather not be alone tonight—if that’s okay with you.”
Chapter 9
Lashpa flipped her tail causing a passing cadet to issue a warning, “Hey! Careful with that thing,” he said, trying to grab the tip as it swept past him.
Turning her head on her long neck, she said, “Sorry.”
Tom reached out and moved a knight. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Your game is off and you seem agitated.”
Lashpa opened her mouth, snapped it shut, then said, “I’m not sure it’s something you would feel comfortable talking about.”
Tom leaned back in his chair so he could get a better view of Lashpa’s face. He had become quite adept at reading Rouldian emotions which were mostly expressed by their body language. The facial expressions were subtle and difficult to see but they also provided a more detailed indication of what they were feeling.
“We’ve known each other for over six months,” Tom said. “You’re my closest friend here at the academy and there’s nothing you can’t talk to me about. What’s wrong?”
Lashpa raised her head and looked around the common room. “Can we go somewhere more private?”
“Sure,” Tom said, standing up. “I could use some fresh air anyway. Let’s go to the park.”
Lashpa said very little during the short walk. Her tail constantly twitched and she kept clasping and unclasping her hands. They found a secluded spot under a large tree. Tom leaned against the trunk while Lashpa picked a grassy spot to settle down.
“All right, out with it.” Tom demanded.
Lashpa didn’t look at him. Instead, she reached down and pulled a large blade of grass out of the ground and began closely examining it. “Yesterday," she said, after a moment, "I learned about Terran customs and how your species interact with one another. I feel like a complete idiot!" Her tail thumped the ground sending a winged insect fleeing for its life.
“Why?” Tom asked, genuinely concerned. He had never seen Lashpa so upset.
“Up until the day I left Fanish, I’d never met another species before,” she said. “I traveled to Pula where I waited several hours for the ship that would take me the rest of the way to Centralis. While I was waiting, I thought I saw…”
Lashpa seemed unable to finish the sentence. Tom waited and watched as she slowly shredded the piece of grass into tiny little pieces. “What did you see?” Tom prompted after a moment.
Lashpa yanked another blade of grass out of the ground and focused all her attention on it. “I thought I saw two Terrans mating in the middle of the waiting area.”
“You what?”
Lashpa’s head snapped up and she looked at Tom. “No. No. They weren’t actually mating,” she quickly explained. “I misinterpreted a common act of mutual attraction as sex. You call it a kiss.”
Tom chuckled. “You thought a kiss was how we have sex?" Seeing the hurt look on her face, he said, “I’m sorry for laughing. From my viewpoint, it’s quite funny. Why did you think kissing was our way of mating?”
Lashpa cocked her head to one side. “I take it you have not had your class on Rouldian customs and relations?”
“Not yet, why?”
“Because if you had, you would have understood my confusion.”
Tom contemplated the length of his fingernails. He considered asking her to explain but decided against doing so; it was clear she was already embarrassed and he didn't want to make her feel any worse. “I’m sorry Lashpa. I guess this is just another indication of how hard our job is going to be when we graduate from the academy. Being ignorant of the customs and behaviors of those we serve could be catastrophic.”
“I am not upset with you,” she said, sliding her tail over and gently laying the tip on Tom’s lap. “I am upset with myself for thinking Terrans had no decency and having sex in public places was common.”
Tom grabbed the tip of her tail and squeezed. It was like trying to squeeze a charged fire hose. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he told her. “We come from two completely different cultures. Frankly, I’m amazed that the different species making up the Alliance are able to coexist together so peacefully.”
“Advanced cultures tend to share many of the same common values,” Lashpa replied. “It is that commonality that allows us to work together so well.”
“As well as having a tolerance for each other’s cultural differences,” Tom added.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. After a time, Lashpa asked, “Is it really true that Terrans have sex purely for enjoyment?”
“Of course we do! I thought all species did, especially Shandarians. Don’t you?”
“The act itself does have some pleasurable feelings associated with it but we do not engage in sex purely for pleasure.”
Tom performed a rapid, drum-roll with his hands on Lashpa’s tail then started to stand up. While doing so, he said, “Well then my friend, I think nature has kept one of the best parts of life from your species.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” she said, standing up and stretching. “That particular pleasure also seems to be the source of many unpleasant emotions. I think nature has done my people a favor.”
“It’s too bad,” Tom said, reaching up and grabbing hold of a tree branch, “that we couldn’t trade bodies for a day.” Tom relaxed his legs allowing his arms to take his weight. “It would sure make it easier for us to understand each o
ther.”
“I think we understand each other quite well enough,” Lashpa said. “I am very comfortable with who and what I am. Still, it would be an interesting experience—like trying to walk on two legs—I don’t see how you manage to do it. It’s inherently unstable.”
Tom let go of the branch causing it to bounce slightly. He performed a set of rapid maneuvers as if he was chasing an invisible insect. “But it gives us great mobility.”
“I like being stable.”
Slightly out of breath, Tom walked over to his friend and thumped her on the side. “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
* * * * *
Two days later, the focus of Tom’s culture and customs class was on Rouldians. Halfway through the class, he broke out into open laughter earning a sharp reprimand from the instructor after he refused to explain his outburst. He now understood why Lashpa had been so confused.
The male Rouldian sexual organ is a long semi-rigid appendage called a thygrrt that normally remains hidden in a channel inside his tongue. When his mate is in season, a pair of organs in his neck will respond to her pheromones by creating a gelatinous package called a grotus. The female initiates the act by opening her jaw and holding her tongue against the roof of her mouth. This exposes a small opening under her tongue. The male sticks his tongue in her mouth, extends his thygrrt, locates the opening, and injects the grotus. The entire act is over in less than 30 seconds. The grotus is moved down a long tube where it is combined with a similar one created by the female called a gretus.
Unlike many other species, Rouldians do not engage in mating for pleasure. What Tom found even more fascinating was that when they chose a mate, it was for life. If one of the couple dies, the other usually follows within a few weeks, often starving to death.
Later that evening, Tom found a message waiting for him when he arrived back at his apartment informing him of a schedule change. His after-lunch study period had been replaced by a meeting with the Director.
