by Gregg Vann
“I don’t think they were aware they could it either,” I replied. “But this whole situation is rather unique.”
“Indeed it is.”
“But there is something…more,” I confessed. “The Brenin that this body belongs to is in here as well.”
“What?” Lews exclaimed.
“It’s true,” I admitted, pointing at my chest. “Dyson thought the creature was dead when he jury-rigged my consciousness in here. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.”
“Then…who controls the body?”
{He does. For now}
The Obas delegation looked around nervously for the source of the voice.
“The device this female is carrying can relay the words of the Brenin trapped inside,” Boe explained.
“Fascinating,” Lews said.
“Yes, Speaker Lews, but irrelevant. The Brenin are coming here, to Obas,” I said forcefully. “And they are not far behind us. They know all about your true population…and your fleet.”
“We have confirmed their course and are taking the appropriate measures to protect ourselves. As to what they know, we have only your word.”
“It’s the truth,” I replied, making no attempt to hide my frustration. “I have acquired information that may help you defend yourselves.”
“Your prior communications alluded to as much—and we will look it all over—but how do we know it’s not dis-information seeded by the Brenin, to draw out our fleet and annihilate it? For that matter, how can you convince me that you aren’t simply a Brenin spy, sent to help us destroy ourselves?”
“Ask Master Pilot Boe about our actions and motivations. Speak with Brother Dyson, and the Udek military; they will each confirm everything I’ve told you.”
Lews shrugged. “Unfortunately, Boe is under a cloud of suspicion himself right now—for chasing after that Brenin ship in the first place. He may well have been compromised during his absence, we just don’t know. And the Udek? No, I think not. We’ve had a less than stellar history with them over the years. But I will contact Brother Dyson; maybe he can shed some light on this whole situation.”
“Good. You can give him a message from me as well. Tell him I said that the marshal is dead, and that the Brenin have been diverted from Bodhi Prime. And tell him to remember our bargain…because I do.”
“I’ll see that he gets your message. But until we’ve confirmed your story, I think you’ll agree it would be best if we kept you all secluded.”
“You mean imprisoned,” I scoffed.
“Nothing so malevolent; a simple precaution, nothing more.”
“Where have I heard that before?” I replied, looking back at Miz.
Lews waved his hand and several of the soldiers left the perimeter to join us. “Take them to holding,” he directed. “And be careful—see that they aren’t harmed.”
“Of course, sir,” one of them replied.
“And take Master Pilot Boe as well…just in case.”
“A simple precaution, nothing more?” I asked sarcastically.
“I’m glad you understand,” Lews said. Then he and the other civilians rejoined their personal guards and walked away.
I turned to Boe. “Aren’t you upset about being lumped together with us—being held under suspicion just by association?”
“Of course not,” he replied. “All Obas understand how devious off-worlders can be. In fact, I’m shocked that we’ve even made it this far. But Speaker Lews has always taken a much softer approach to aliens than any of his predecessors. If the last Speaker were still in charge, our body parts would probably still be drifting down from orbit.”
“I see,” I replied.
And then our guards took us off to jail.
Chapter Twenty-One
As far as prisons went, especially compared to a hellhole like Nilot, the conditions of our confinement weren’t bad. They’d placed us all together in one room—a small space furnished with a single bed and a square table with two chairs. I dropped down in one seat while Boe took the other. Uli lowered herself onto the mattress, glaring at the lone door leading in and out of the room; she sighed heavily.
“These stupid fools,” she complained.
“They’d better deliberate quickly,” I said to Boe. “That fleet needs to be manned, fueled, and launched into orbit as soon as possible.”
“For what it’s worth,” Boe replied, “I agree with you. But we are a cautious people, Tien. We learned some violent lessons when we first ventured out into space…and we have not forgotten them.” The Obas looked up from the floor where his gaze had wandered to lock eyes with me. “Some of those lessons were at the hands of the Udek.”
“So you decided to withdraw from the galaxy entirely? Choosing to hide from everyone and everything that wasn’t Obas forever? That seems like an extreme solution.”
“To you, perhaps, but not to us. We have everything we need on Obas; we don’t need to participate in your capitalistic economy, and certainly not your self-serving galactic politics—driven by whoever holds the most power, not what’s best for the masses. To put it plainly…we don’t go looking for trouble like the rest of you.”
“The Udek didn’t start this fight,” I said testily. “The Brenin came to us.”
“They aren’t anywhere near your worlds—the systems they’ve devastated are light years away. But the Udek rushed into battle regardless.” The Obas shrugged, and his gills flared out slightly before sealing shut again. “It is in your nature, Tien. You can’t deny it.”
“They destroyed one of our mining colonies,” I countered. “The Brenin killed over a hundred Udek in that attack.”
“A hundred? They’ve killed billions on other worlds. And now that their fleet has broken up into smaller groups, they will be able to move even faster throughout the galaxy, spreading death everywhere they venture.”
“Until they eventually make their way to us,” I interrupted, bringing my point home. “You Obas prepare for the worst, and then wait in fear for the animal to show up at your door. We Udek are more proactive, we hunt…before becoming the hunted.” I calmed myself and my tone turned even more serious. “But there is something else as well, something that most of the other races have already learned. Something the Obas should know, and the Brenin will learn. We embrace the concepts of vendetta and retribution—revel in the act of vengeance. If you wrong us, we will respond in kind. In most cases, overwhelmingly in kind.”
{Like true barbarians} Seeris interjected. {Unable to control your fear and anger. Lashing out with your pitiful militaristic displays—like children brandishing toy swords. The universe will be better off when you’ve all been brought to heel}
“Ah, so we should control our anger,” I replied. Like you do against the Saba?”
{That is different]
“No…it isn’t.”
I decided to change the subject—to avoid an argument that neither side would ever concede. “Tell me, Boe, what kind of designation is Master Pilot?”
“It’s an honorary title,” he responded, with obvious pride. “One reserved for Obas pilots that have left the planet and travelled to other worlds. There are not very many of us. So few dare.”
“Well that certainly confirms what I already suspected. Over the years, I’ve seen a few reports mentioning Obas off-planet, but probably less than twenty overall. Where all have you ventured?”
“Two planets,” he boasted. “Grenub and Bodhi Prime—both times to pick up…things.”
“Thanks to the Brenin, Grenub is now all but gone. What were you doing in the Bodhi system?”
“I’m not allowed to discuss it. But why does anyone other than religious adherents go to Bodhi Prime?”
“Consciousness transfer,” I answered for him.
“As I said, I’m not allowed to discuss it.” But his tone confirmed what his words did not. The Bodhi have a very long reach, I thought. Even the Obas…
{Base, little animals, trying to exercise some small
amount of control over your sad lives— transferring yourselves into new bodies when you get old…it’s pathetic. Life is to be lived, and death equally embraced. You are all so afraid of what you don’t understand}
“The Brenin have all the answers, eh Seeris? Then why don’t you enlighten us?”
{We live as we see fit. And then die as nature and circumstance demand. It’s that simple}
“Then why have you come here with your armada? Did nature demand that?”
“Tell him nothing, Seeris,” Uli snapped. She leaned forward as if preparing to launch herself out of the bed.
{He has seen our dreams, sister. He will understand}
“Maybe,” she replied coldly. “But he has no right to know.”
{Neither he nor the other barbarians can stop us, Uli. This information will gain them nothing}
“Then why…” Uli started, but then she gave up, lying back down on the bed and closing her eyes.
{This fleet…this expedition, is the first grand cooperative project the clans have ever been able to accomplish. And the only reason we’ve managed to succeed this time, is because we’re driven by a self-serving goal that we all share. We assembled this large force to search for other worlds like Bren, forested planets where we can thrive independently—apart from one another and in peace. We seek a new world for each of the four major clans on Bren. Our belief being that if we segregate, we can nullify the compunctions of the dreams and stop killing one another, rid ourselves of the…instability that holds us back as a people. Despite the adversity built into our nature, Udek, we have accomplished magnificent things. You’ve witnessed first-hand our technology, our power; you see what we’ve built. Imagine what we could do apart from the enmity that divides us}
“But there are hundreds of habitable worlds—just in the local group,” I protested. “Surely it can’t be that difficult to find what you need.”
{We have examined thousands of planets since we left Bren, and have only found one in the last sixty years that suits our special needs. Our ancestors were arboreal—it is who…is what we are. And there are specific requirements that must be met for settlement. Although there are hundreds of planets technically within the habitable zone of our species, many of these exist on the very fringes of it. Those too close to their parent star are mostly desert worlds, and the planets on the furthest edge are covered in ice. These marginal worlds typically produce single biome planets that are unsuitable for our purposes. And there are many, many planets that are simply covered in water, with no appreciable land masses whatsoever, like Obas. So the search continues until we are successful}
“But why kill and subjugate the indigenous populations along the way. Why not just bypass those planets that aren’t suitable?”
{We leave overseers behind on the worlds we conquer to gather supplies needed by the fleet. When their work is done, they rejoin the armada before it moves on. It is a simple matter of necessity. As to why we destroy, you’ve already explained it yourself. Where the Obas are reactive, we are proactive, like the Udek. Anyone that can potentially threaten us is eliminated}
“Most would consider the Brenin to be the threat,” I scoffed.
{That, is a matter of perspective, Udek}
I realized that there were never going to be any major points of agreement between anyone seated at this table, especially the two inhabiting this body. Seeris saw the universe as something to be controlled—it existed to suit the needs of the Brenin. Every other race was either a potential impediment to their goals, or a minor nuisance to be eliminated.
They were the polar opposites of the Obas, who feared the universe as a rule, and saw anything outside the confines of their own world as extraneous and unnecessary. They would be more than content to pretend they were the only race in the galaxy, and indeed had lived that way for centuries. But the Brenin weren’t going to allow them that luxury much longer.
And as for my own people, the Udek, what could be said about us? Our race is strong-willed and stubborn; at times, even to our own detriment, and we continually expand our influence as far as we dare, without uniting all of the other races against us. We don’t hide from the universe—nor do we think we are the reason for its existence—but we are determined to exploit it for all that its worth.
“There is something else my brother hasn’t shared with you, Udek, something you alone are uniquely qualified to understand.” Uli sat up on the bed and took a deep breath before continuing. “We will all leave Bren to resettle on the new worlds…only returning home for The Pilgrimage. It’s why we can’t leave any threats in our wake; we need unfettered access back to Bren after the migration is complete.”
“What pilgrimage?” I asked.
“All Brenin compare their personal visions to a universal database, one that helps them locate relatives and common villagers from the Time Before. Using landmarks like rivers and mountain ranges, our ancient dreams have all been traced and mapped. We’ve conducted extensive archaeological research to find the exact locations of our visions, Udek. I have grieved at the site where I lost my child. Seeris knows where his village was burned—quite literally—to the ground. And he’s stood on the exact same tree limb where he was forced to take his cat’s life. The trees never die, Udek, our history remains. And we make The Pilgrimage every hundred years to honor our ancestors—by visiting our ancient homes and reflecting on the past. Nothing must interfere with that.”
“So you kill everyone, just to make sure you have a clear path back to Bren?” I asked, incredulous.
{Not everyone…only enough to ensure our own safety}
“How very comforting for the survivors,” I said sarcastically. “I thought we were no threat to your ships. So why even bother.”
{Many pilgrims will be in smaller vessels, Udek, most without escorts. Even with your limited weaponry, you might prove a risk to them}
A loud knock on the door interrupted our discussion before I had a chance to challenge Seeris’ reasoning; it swung open to admit three Obas—two soldiers and a physician if I read their outfits correctly.
“Kiro Tien,” the doctor said. “My name is Eil. I’d like a moment to examine you if you don’t mind.” She darted a look over at the two soldiers with her to let me know she was going to do it whether I minded or not. “I only need a quick scan of your chest. It will be completely painless, I promise.”
“You are wasting your time,” I answered. “You know as well as I do that the Bodhi install safeguards to protect their technology. But go ahead and get it over with…just don’t get your hopes up.”
She nodded, smiling, and then came over to the table—turning on a hand scanner as she approached. Boe got up and joined the two guards waiting by the door.
“I’m sure you are right,” Eil said. “But imagine if we can decipher some of it. It would change everything. I already have a copy of the scans they took of you on the surface—and the Brenin physiology is fascinating—but I have to admit that I’m much more interested in this consciousness chamber the Bodhi have devised. I’d love to know how it works.”
“So would everyone else,” I replied.
I shrugged as she waved the device slowly across my chest, watching as her happy, excited face twisted into a frown. Then she pulled another instrument from her medical bag and pressed it hard against my sternum. It had small silver wheels on its base, and she used them to meticulously roll the machine over the entirety of my torso, front and back. There was a glint of hope in her eyes as she removed it and pressed a series of lighted buttons on the top of the device, but then she read the results and scowled.
“Those Bodhi certainly are a cautious order. That’s for sure.”
“Anything useful?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“No,” she admitted. “Nothing. Not only is the container heavily shielded against scanning technology, but it’s also emitting a static broadcast across all frequencies detailing the explosive power of its failsafe—a boast that my scans
can confirm. If I tried to tamper with that device, the explosion would be large enough to cause a catastrophic hull rupture in this section of the dome.”
She threw her tools back in the bag and brusquely signaled to the guards. “Let’s go back to the lab; there is nothing else I can do here. At least there I can learn more about Brenin physiology…without fearing an explosion.”
One of the soldiers pushed the door open and the three of them filed out. But before it swung shut again, the doctor stuck her head back in for a final look.
“What an amazing pair of specimens,” she said. “I really hope they don’t kill the two of you.”
Then she pulled the door closed tightly behind her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kill?
No. I didn’t think so. Up to this point, the Obas had been almost hospitable…scared and cautious, yes, but hospitable nonetheless. But the doctor was privy to information and motivations that we knew nothing about, so the remark had to be taken seriously.
All of the intelligence I’d ever seen on the Obas pointed to their pacificity and ironclad policy of non-engagement. It would be remarkably out of character for them to just kill us outright, particularly in our present circumstances. But my recent experiences were beginning to change how I saw them entirely. Before the Brenin arrived and took him captive, Boe had done his level best to blast me into atoms. And the Obas had managed to build and conceal an impressive fleet of powerful warships.
Maybe we really didn’t know them at all.
The four of us spent the next few hours resting silently, alone with our own thoughts—which in my case was a real blessing, as I didn’t hear from Seeris at all. Boe kept his eyes closed for the duration, and even though he was seated, I suspected that he’d drifted off to sleep for at least part of the time. Uli and I remained wide-awake.
I was beginning to think they’d somehow forgotten about us when the door opened without warning—jolting us all alert. Four, armed soldiers walked into the room, followed by Speaker Lews and another Obas I hadn’t seen before.
