by Daniel Gibbs
“Come in,” Aibek’s deep voice said, issuing from a speaker on the wall.
The hatch automatically unlocked with a noticeable metallic sound, and David pushed it inward. The sight of Aibek’s quarters greeted him; a place he hadn’t been before. It departed from CDF standard with displays of trinkets and items from Sauria; specifically of a painting of the Saurian homeworld before it became a polluted mess. Ceremonial weapons including an ax and two daggers graced the walls as well.
“Colonel, I apologize. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Aibek said while gesturing to the room, which was generally messy.
“For some reason, I had this picture in my mind that everything in a Saurian’s quarters had a place, and everything was in its place.”
Aibek cocked his head to the right. “Why?”
David grinned. “Because your mass transit runs on time.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“It’s a human saying. We joke that the Germans always have trains which run on time.”
“You’ll have to explain that to me sometime.”
“Someday,” David said. “Got a few minutes to talk?”
“Of course, sir.” Aibek shoved a tablet and some printouts off his couch, making space for David to sit.
David sat down on the couch while Aibek took a seat in the large chair next to it. “Thank you, Talgat,” he said, testing out the use of his first name. “Is that the right pronunciation?”
“Well, my full name is S’aartan Talgat Aibek. But practically every Saurian in the universe has a first name that begins with S. I like to be different. So I use my middle name.”
“I can understand that. I like to be different too,” David said, cracking a smile. “The last couple of months, we haven’t had an excessive amount of time to get to know each other.”
“What is there to get to know? You’re a competent commanding officer and a fine warrior. I am assigned to your ship, and I will serve to the best of my ability.”
“I appreciate that sentiment, but humans typically go a bit deeper than that in our interactions,” David observed. “Especially when we do things that put our careers and ambitions at risk.”
“You mean me breaking orders?”
“Exactly.”
Aibek looked at David square in the eyes. “David,” he replied, also testing out the use of his first name. “I could not simply step aside and do nothing. Honor demanded I try to help. To leave another to fight a noble fight, when I could intervene and help? That goes against everything I’ve ever learned and against my religious beliefs.”
“I find it somewhat interesting that your messiah figure was much more of a fighter than the messiah of the Christians,” David said.
“I’ve come to believe they’re one and the same.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. I’ve read the Christian Bible, and I find the similarities to be remarkable.”
“I’d point out that Jesus went around talking about doing good to those that hurt you, and turning the other cheek,” David replied.
“I thought Jews rejected him as the Messiah. If so, why do you know so much about him?”
David grinned. “Sheila was a born-again Christian. She and I had many a debate about the subject,” David said as he shrugged. “Jesus was a great man. He changed the course of the world. But as a Jew, I don’t believe that our Messiah has come in this universe as of yet.”
Aibek inclined his head. “I, of course, respect your belief. I would point out to you though, that Jesus used a whip on money chargers that stole from the poor. Clearly, he was capable of violence.”
“Perhaps. But that’s nowhere near the gist of his message.”
“No. For us, it was a large component. Perhaps God tailors his message to each race, dependent on how we evolve?” Aibek mused out loud.
“It’s certainly possible, even plausible.”
“Yet some do not yet believe.”
“Well, a skeptic would say that just because similar religions develop on different planets and with different species, it’s not a proof of God, but a disproof. In other words, religion is just something that societies generally come up with to keep everyone together and focused.”
“What about the idea that our brains appear to be hardwired to believe in a higher power?” Aibek responded.
“Same difference. That could be an evolved behavior.”
“Or concrete proof of a higher power.”
David smiled. “That’s what I think it is, but the other side has a counterpoint to every point we have. As we have one to each of their objections. The truth is, we can’t use science to prove or disprove the existence of God. It’s something that one must take on faith.”
“Faith is powerful.”
“Yes, it is,” David said in agreement. “Thank you for helping us. I’m sorry that it came to General MacIntosh threatening to end your participating in the exchange program.”
Aibek shrugged. “My only regret would have been that I was unable to continue serving with you and the other warriors on this ship. I have come to respect all of you a great deal. I hope to continue to be useful and serve faithfully.”
“I’m certain that will continue to be the case,” David replied. “What do Saurians like to do for fun anyway?”
“What is fun?” Aibek asked in a perfect deadpan.
“Hah. Almost had me there. There’s got to be some hobby or activity you like to do.”
“Most of our culture is steeped in some form of fighting. I do enjoy what you would call martial arts and some sports activities.”
“Ever tried bowling?”
“Bowling?” Aibek asked, making a quirked face.
“You roll a ball down a wood surface and try to knock over plastic pins,” David explained.
“That sounds… boring.”
“It can be, but it’s somewhat relaxing to me. Would you care to join me tomorrow? Goldberg, Taylor, and Amir enjoy playing. I’ll get them all to come along.”
“I’ll try just about anything once,” Aibek responded.
“Good. 1900 CMT? Right after dinner?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Excellent! Now I’m going to go get some sleep,” David said as he stood from the couch, a grin spreading across his face.
“Good night, David. Godspeed and good rest,” Aibek replied.
As David stepped through the hatch and back into the passageway that lay beyond, he looked back into the room. “For what it’s worth, you’re every bit Sheila’s equal in terms of ability, honor, and dedication, Talgat. I’m glad we’re serving together.”
“I am honored.”
David inclined his head and walked off down the hall. It’s going to take a lot of time before I have the kind of natural rapport with Aibek that I had with Shelia, even after taking the emotional element out of it. She could read my mind. Still, I’m lucky to have him. I need to nurture our friendship on and off the ship. I’ll have to put myself outside of my comfort zone and do it.
As he stepped into the gravlift and began to order it to take him to the deck his cabin was situated on, David thought the better of it. “Deck five,” he said instead. A brief ride later, the doors slid open, and David briskly walked down the central passageway of the ship. As large as three normal passageways, it was one of the main thoroughfares for the crew. His destination was the shul, which was amidships, situated against the outer hull.
At the late hour, there was virtually no one present in the shul, David noticed as he pulled on his yarmulke and walked inside. “Prayers before bed, Colonel Cohen?” the voice of Rabbi Kravitz boomed out from his small office.
Smiling, David stuck his head through the door. “Still got a few minutes for a fellow Jew, Rabbi?”
“Of course. Come in. Come in!” Kravitz replied, wearing a warm and genuine smile himself.
“I haven’t had time to get down here and thank you for ministering to those we rescued. I’m sure that havi
ng a rabbi around to offer healing was beneficial,” David said.
“The Mitzvot do specifically say to appoint a special priest for soldiers in a war.”
“Five hundred ninety-nine,” David replied with a grin.
“Do you still study the Torah?” Kravitz asked.
David nodded. “Every day that I can. I still hope someday to become a rabbi.”
“A noble goal,” Kravitz replied. “We always need more of those.”
“I read somewhere the other day that there are more than a billion Jews in the Terran Coalition as of the last census.”
“We were fruitful and multiplied,” Kravitz cracked.
“I’ll say. We’re still the smallest of the major religions.”
“That would be expected. We started with far fewer people in the Exodus,” Kravitz observed.
“I’m worried, Rabbi.”
“About what?”
“I didn’t even remember that it was Rosh Hashanah. I was so caught up in fighting and what was going on around me. I find that I’m struggling to fulfill my duties as a Jew.”
“Then rededicate yourself, decide to pray more, partake in services, and worship God.”
“Do you ever wonder how Adonai looks at us? I imagine He must be disgusted when we engage in combat, killing dozens, hundreds, thousands of His creations, and show up to prayers a few hours later.”
“I don’t believe he judges us for a just action in war,” Kravitz said, frowning. “If I may be so bold, it sounds to me like that you carry around much guilt.”
“I do,” David replied. “I feel like I’m constantly running from the guilt and despair that threatens to engulf me. I still blame myself for Sheila’s death. If I hadn’t insisted on going after Seville, she’d still be alive.”
“And we probably wouldn’t have the allies we have now, nor be pushing the League back across the entire front.”
“So her death was God’s plan? It was worth it in the grand scheme of things?”
“Perhaps it was,” Kravitz allowed.
“Someday, I want to understand why. A being that can create anything, why can’t He stop the League in its tracks? Why not banish evil?”
“Have you considered that perhaps God doesn’t revolve around you or me? That, in fact, we revolve around Him? Perhaps the reason Adonai doesn’t destroy evil in the universe today is that if He did, billions of souls who do not know Him would be cast out. Perhaps He, in His infinite wisdom, allows us to grope around and try to seek His name.”
David furrowed his brow while shaking his head. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of it in that manner. At least not recently.”
“Think on it.”
“I still hate this war,” David said as he sighed. “I long for the day we no longer have to fight day in and day out to ensure our existence.”
“Only a sociopath enjoys killing,” Kravitz replied. “The fact it still bothers you is proof you haven’t lost your humanity and your connection to God.”
“Thanks, Rabbi.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
David stood up. “I guess I’d better recite the evening prayer and turn in. Tomorrow is another day.”
“This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”
“I’ll do my best,” David replied, smiling.
Andrew MacIntosh walked through a full-body scanning booth at one of the entrances to the residence of the Terran Coalition’s president in his full uniform. The protocol called for wearing, at a minimum, service dress khaki uniforms to meet with the president, preferably dress blacks, which MacIntosh didn’t have time to don.
After completing the scan, he was whisked away to the private living quarters by several elite protective service agents and directed to wait in one of the many and ornately decorated rooms. This particular room was decorated in a Greco-Roman style with paintings of Dr. James Lawrence, the creator of the FTL system employed by all human spacecraft, adorning the walls. MacIntosh didn’t have to wait long; within five minutes, the door swung open, and President Spencer entered, followed by his constant, twenty-four-hours-a-day bodyguard.
Reflexively, MacIntosh sprang from his chair and came to attention. “At ease, Andrew,” Spencer said with a smile. “This is just a friendly discussion between two friends.”
MacIntosh relaxed into a parade rest posture. “Sir, you’re the President of the Terran Coalition. Can’t train that out of this old soldier.”
Spencer gestured to the chair MacIntosh had been occupying. “Please, have a seat,” he said as he sat down on the couch across from the chair.
“Thank you, sir,” MacIntosh replied, sitting only after the president had.
“We’re preparing a statement on the Monrovia situation, and I wanted your thoughts on the matter,” Spencer stated matter-of-factly.
“Mr. President, while I argued for intervention, the situation ended up going further than I had ever intended. I can do nothing but offer my apologies for my personnel exceeding their authority and orders.”
“Andrew, I’m not upset about it. If anything, I’m grateful they did.”
MacIntosh’s mouth dropped open. “With respect, sir, we operate on a system of orders. If you don’t like orders, you have to shut up and do them or resign. There’s no cherry-picking which ones you agree to follow.”
“You did tell me that Colonel Cohen was unorthodox in his methods.”
“I underestimated just how unorthodox he is, sir,” MacIntosh replied.
“I think that might be a positive. Thanks to the reporting done on Monrovia, the approval rating for the CDF is even higher than it was a couple of weeks ago, which was a historical high then. Spontaneous gatherings are occurring outside of our embassies on neutral planets thanking the Terran Coalition for protecting them. In short, we’ve come out of this as the force for good in our local region. I can’t see a better outcome. We stopped a monstrous wrong, exposed the League one more time for what it is, and did it in front of a holocamera for once. How many times have our men and women died to stop the League, and the press never seemed to notice just how bad the League is?”
“That may be true, sir. I worry about the optics of the Terran Coalition intervening in other planets’ internal business. This case was easy, but what about the next one? It’s a slippery slope to imperialism setting in.”
“I’m surprised to hear this from the man who wanted me to authorize intervention in the first place.”
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions, sir. History shows that unchecked police actions against rogue states feed on themselves. I urge caution.”
“I think you’re more chafed at your protégé disregarding your instructions,” Spencer observed.
“The young colonel still has a lot to learn,” MacIntosh replied, smiling ruefully. “I wish he had more seasoning, but I still believe he’s the best man for the job.”
“I seem to remember you overlooking a certain CDF officer exceeding his orders on occasion.”
“And he grew up to be the commander in chief. Can’t have that happen again, sir,” MacIntosh said with a tight grin.
“There’s something I want to know.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“How’d you managed to get a seemingly unbiased GNN reporter onto the Lion of Judah? I never quite understood why you argued for them over a Canaan News Network embed.”
“Well, sir, everyone expects Canaan News to be pro-CDF. I thought it would be far better for our society and for morale at large to have a reporter from a news outlet that wasn’t thought of generally pro-military. You can argue pretty convincingly that GNN is anti-CDF.” Better to leave the rest of my deal off the record.
Spencer nodded his understanding. “I see, Andrew. Your line of reasoning is, as usual, impeccable. I’d also like to thank you for finding the troops to get Monrovia garrisoned. I’m sure that was no easy feat.”
“I bled forces off from several of our core world
s that, quite frankly, don’t need as many troops right now thanks to our continued successes in the war, and cobbled together a few reserve ships to constitute a planetary defense and customs force. Monrovia is a long way from being stabilized, though. The people of the planet are experiencing great upheaval. In the end, it’ll be up to them what kind of society they create from the ashes.”
“It’s up to each of us, in the end, to do what’s right,” Spencer observed. “I find myself thinking we should have done more here. It was only the heroic actions of a few brave people that saved the day. Perhaps, when the League is finally on the run, we should change policy.”
“To confronting evil in our local area of the galaxy?”
“Yes. We’ve long ignored things in our backyard, sticking to this non-interference mantra. For instance, take the Harr’al. They allow legalized slavery for crying out loud, Andrew. Humans fought wars that killed millions of people to stop slavery back on Earth. Someday, I hope we can right some wrongs out here. It’s about time.”
“Mr. President, again, as a professional military officer, I would caution you to avoid blanket statements. They lead to unintended consequences.”
“I’ll try to remember that in the days ahead.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Andrew, I’m going to go have dinner with my wife and children. Would you care to join us?”
MacIntosh shook his head. “No, sir, though I am deeply honored you would ask. If I did that without bringing my wife, well, she’d kill me.”
“Then I’ll invite both of you soon,” Spencer replied while laughing and rising from his seat on the couch.
MacIntosh quickly jumped out of the chair and stood as well. “Thank you, sir.”
