by S A Pavli
After a few more minutes the windscreen had cooled and visibility was restored, to reveal a deep blue sea beneath us and white scudding clouds above.
Our speed continued to drop as we came lower and lower, until I estimated we were moving at a couple of hundred miles an hour. In the distance I could see our Island, still a few miles away. Had our computer misjudged things? It looked as if we were about to go into the sea. We felt the point at which our ship was flying so slowly, it reached its stall point. It ceased to be an aircraft and became a stone. It dropped gracefully, the nose going down. There was a series of remote thumps and we could see the huge parachutes unfurling above us. Our fall was arrested and we floated easily and gracefully in the brilliant light. Our parachutes were actually delta wings, similar to those on a hang glider, and the ship continued to fly towards the island at a fair speed. Soon we could see the golden ribbon of a long beach, an enclosed lagoon and high rugged hills climbing to the centre of the island and. It looked stunningly beautiful, the archetypal desert island.
The computer was controlling the wings to bring the ship into the lagoon, clearly with the intention of ditching either in the lagoon or on the beach. A good plan I decided. As we swooped in over the lagoon, the computer spilled air out of the wings and we descended rapidly, the water raced beneath us and then we hit the water, skimmed, lifted, hit again and again lifted, all the time the beach approached. Then we were down, the water sprayed up to cover the fuselage and the ship became a boat. There was a grinding noise from the bottom of the ship and we shuddered to a halt. The water subsided and we were confronted by the curve of a beautiful tropical beach, the golden sands leading up to a thick forest of thin trunk-ed trees.
“Exceptionally good flying Computer, well done,” I said trying to keep the relief out of my voice.
“There is no need for congratulations citizen, but it is appreciated,” came the reply from our electronic pilot.
“Just one little problem Computer, the airlock is now under water,” I pointed out.
“The main airlock is at the rear of the ship,” replied the Computer. “Shall I open it?”
“Please do,” I replied as we made our way to the rear of the ship. The rear compartment was much larger than the front, because the ship was a delta shaped lifting body design. The rear had a pair of wide doors, which hissed open to reveal the air lock. The external door was a ramp which started to lower, revealing a gradually expanding slit of bright sunlight. It lowered to form a horizontal platform before stopping. The sea was a couple of feet beneath the ramp and we stepped out onto the ramp into the bright sunlight, peering this way and that around the exterior of the ship to examine our surroundings. The air was warm and sultry and the rhythmic crash of the surf on the golden beach was a soothing return to normality after the nightmare of the last few minutes.
“This is nice,” I murmured. “Fancy a swim Mrs Crusoe?”
“Here you go with Mrs Crusoe again,” she replied, “Perhaps this is a good time to explain? And what is a tribe?” I sat on the edge of the ramp and dangled my legs in the warm water. She sat next to me and did the same, leaning her shoulder companionably against me.
“Well, it comes from an old story,” I began, “About a man who was shipwrecked on an uninhabited desert island. His name was Robinson Crusoe, and it is the story of how he survived. Actually, there was no Mrs Crusoe, but the story inspired a number of other variations on the theme, one of them being about a family who were similarly marooned on a desert island.”
“Mmmm,” she said , “And the tribe?”
“A tribe is a very large extended family of individuals. Typically, ancient Human settlements grew from these extended families and were called tribes.”
“Ah, and you would like us to start such a tribe here?”
“It would be fun to try?” I suggested. I could see the little quirk of a smile on her lips, which she was trying hard to suppress.
“Mmm, I could spend the rest of my life having babies. That would be fun,” she exclaimed.
“That’s the frontier spirit,” I said encouragingly.
“You know where you can shove the frontier spirit,” she replied irreverently, shoving me off the ramp into the clear water. It was only a few feet deep, and I surfaced quickly to grab her long shapely legs and pull her in on top of me. She gave a little scream before plunging in. We wrestled under water for a few seconds before I released her and swam strongly away. She had no chance of catching me, and she instead swam around the ship and headed for the shore, which was only twenty metres or so away. I swam further out to sea for a few minutes, relishing the clear fresh water and hot sun on my back, before turning back and heading for the beach. When I came out, she was spread out on the beach in an abandoned posture, arms and legs akimbo, wearing only her undergarments. As I stepped out of the water, she was waiting for me, her eyes bright with her passion.
Chapter 33
I don’t know how long we slept on the beach after our exertions, but the sun was low in the sky. We were awakened by the hum of machinery and the rush of air over a large object. Above us hovered the long sleek black shape of a fighter aircraft, one of the Prime Council’s ships. At close range it looked sleek and lethal, as big as a jumbo jet, but as streamlined as a supersonic fighter. It had a variety of lethal looking bumps and protrusions, and a profusion of grids, grills, and aerials of all shapes and sizes. It was a supremely business like machine, one I would not want to argue with. It was hovering above us, and I was suddenly aware that Manera and I were a tangle of naked limbs. She was sleeping with her body half across mine, one arm around my chest, her head on my shoulder. My stirring awoke her, and big azure eyes sleepily looked into mine before she jerked awake.
“No time to start that tribe now Mrs Crusoe,” I grinned. She sat up slowly, stretching her arms and body like a cat.
“It was fun trying though,” she smiled.
“Aye, it was that,” I agreed as we both stood to receive our visitors. The ship was descending gently as a leaf some fifty metres away from us . We both hastily pulled on our clothes, still not fully dressed before the ship settled and the airlock opened. I did not know what to expect to come out of the ship, but what did come out caused me a sharp shock. For a moment I thought it was my old buddy Sundance, but then I saw there was three of them, and they were not the same but eerily similar. Walking on four jointed legs, with two ‘arms’ at the front and an oval armoured body, they looked fearsome and terrifying. Manera started with alarm and came close to me and in a reflex action I put a protective arm around her.
Armoured heads with jewelled eyes stared terrifyingly at us. I could see holes and protrusions which could house projectile, heat or laser weapons. Two of them stayed with the ship, while the third walked, or rather scuttled towards us. It stopped three metres away, its head with the terrifying eyes moved purposively side to side, scanning us and the surrounding environment at the same time, as if expecting to be ambushed by a horde of natives from the thick jungle one hundred metres away. A deep metallic voice came from its body, its sudden loudness startling us.
“You are Manera Ka Hatekan and Captain Paul Constantine.” it stated rather than asked. “You will board the aircraft please,” it continued, without waiting for an answer. We both gulped an incoherent response, pulling on the last of our garments before walking with as much dignity as we could muster towards the ship.
The inside of the ship was as bleak and functional as the outside. The huge airlock, clearly designed to accommodate robots and large machinery led into an open area which had grappling machinery around it, and innocuously, a number of seats against one wall.
“Please be seated,” said one of the robots, indicating the seats, and all three robots positioned themselves against the wall, engaging mechanical arms to retain themselves securely. We strapped ourselves into the chairs, which were bulky and solid looking, clearly designed to withstand massive acceleration forces. The low hum of the gravity dr
ive increased and we felt the ship lift easily, and the acceleration forces build rapidly. The trip lasted fifteen or twenty minutes, which probably meant we were in high synchronous orbit, before we felt the ship slow and start to manoeuvre. There was a muffled thump as it docked and then our three robot escorts detached themselves from their restraints and made their way to the airlock.
“Please follow me.” intoned their leader, and we un-strapped ourselves and followed with alacrity. Out through the large airlock and the sight which met our eyes took our breath away. We were on a gantry above a huge chasm, a chasm which stretched for hundreds of metres in all directions except one. Behind us rose a sheer wall of metal, studded with hundreds of windows, a wall that stretched for what seemed miles around us, enclosing the huge chasm. We could see hundreds of fighters, moored to the curving wall of metal and attached to cranes and other huge pieces of machinery. This huge dock had a number of openings into space, huge locks through which the fighters could pass. Our gantry was a circular worm of metal and plastic that allowed us to pass from the fighter’s airlock into the main body of the ship.
There was no gravity at this point, but as we followed the robot and passed through into the main body of the ship we could feel gravity building up, first gently tugging us to the deck then holding us securely at a nominal one gravity. We passed through a number of compartments, all looking grey and metallic before entering a lift. The lift went up for at least thirty seconds before stopping. We stepped out into a large room which was decorated in much more pleasant colours, the floor was soft and there were plants and soft lights. Clearly designed for the biological rather than mechanical passengers, we were met here by a small group of elaborately dressed and coiffure’d Hianja. This was clearly our reception committee. One stepped forward to address us.
“Manera Ka Hatekan, Captain Constantine, welcome to the Settang Despass , a Nosra class warship of the Hianja Prime Defence fleet.” I recognised the individual as the spokesman for the Council, Chairman Krusniet. I was about to reply with something gracious and innocuous but was interrupted by my lovely partner.
“Never mind your welcome, what the hell did you think you were doing. What was that all about, destroying those ships, killing all them people and incidentally, almost killing the very person we were trying to protect? Are you all insane?” she finished, her voice rising to a pitch of emotion. I didn’t know whether to be shocked or to laugh out loud at Manera’s cheek, and it appeared neither did the chairman. But it was clearly no laughing matter to Manera, her body was rigid with anger, her arms held straight by her sides, fists clenched, her face flushed. To give him credit, Chairman Krusniet flushed and lowered his eyes against her flashing pools of blue fire.
“Manera, you are right to be angry, but we felt we had no choice. Our concern was for the greater good, the maintenance of law and discipline.”
“And what about Captain Constantine?” she asked, “How could Contact proceed without him? If he had been killed, how would we explain that to the Earth authorities?”
“His ship was quite safe. His ship’s AI is an equal representative of Earth. Contact would have proceeded with equal facility, with or without the Captain. Much more important to us was that we could demonstrate to Earth our commitment to the Law. Allowing these individuals to dictate to the Council would have undermined the law. There is no negotiation with criminals, that is now known throughout the Hianja Federation,” he replied grimly.
“That is a ruthless policy,” she said dismissively. “Surely there was room for some negotiation?”
“My child,” said the old man, is voice softening, “I understand your shock. This is a tragic situation, one which was impossible to solve without someone or something getting damaged. I am truly sorry that you and the Captain became victims. But believe me, we are very happy that you survived.” He turned to me. “Tell me Captain, how would you have handled such a situation on Earth?” I was taken aback by his question, and had to pause for a few seconds to think.
“I am not an expert Chairman Krusniet, but on Earth a few hundred years ago, we had many similar situations. Criminals, terrorists, lunatics, whatever.....would kidnap or take hostages for one reason or another. They nearly always ended in somebody dying, usually the kidnapper or terrorist, but often innocent civilians also died. It is, as you say very difficult to resolve such a confrontation peacefully,” I was trying to be diplomatic, but Krusniet pressed me.
“Did the Earth Authorities give in to the criminals?”
“No, it was a matter of principle that they should never give in to their demands as this would simply encourage others to follow suit.” He nodded with a look of quiet satisfaction on his face, which prompted me to add my rider. “But, there was one other basic principle I believe, it was that the hostage takers should never be given an ultimatum.” He frowned at this and looked puzzled.
“But how can the situation be resolved without an ultimatum? It would simply drag on indefinitely.”
“Well, that is the idea,” I replied, “The hostage takers will begin to recognise that there is no way out of their situation. You can supply them with food and drink indefinitely. As long as the hostages are safe, there is no need to upset the situation. Let them think, calm down, get tired, lose sleep. Eventually they will either break down, or lose their concentration. That is when you can go for a rescue. Of course, there is an exception to that. If the terrorist is fanatical and ruthless enough, they can just start killing hostages,” I finished grimly. Krusniet nodded sombrely.
“So you are saying that we should not have given them an ultimatum?” he asked.
“They offered you a face saving plan,” I reminded him. “If you judged that Contact should continue, they would surrender for trial. If you agreed that contact should be delayed, they would be free. What was the problem with that? You knew that you would vote in favour of contact did you not?”
“But that surely would be giving in to their demands?” he exclaimed, “The very thing which we all agree should not be done. We had no need to save face, that was for them. Do you see?” He was seemingly anxious that I should approve of the Council’s actions, which showed a humility that I found comforting
“You are right, that would have been tantamount to giving in to their demands. The problem is, their demands on the face of it were not unreasonable,” I pointed out.
“On the face of it, perhaps,” he said, “But in practice, how can we have a discussion about something which we know so little about? Human nature is still a mystery to us. We know next to nothing about Earth and its people. Any discussions would simply be an exercise is propaganda and opinion. Which is actually, exactly what they wanted to do for the purposes of promoting racial hatred.” He waved a dismissive hand. “These people are misguided. If there is substance to their clams that Humans are vicious and aggressive, then we have the means to isolate them and to defend ourselves. We have nothing to fear.” There was strength and determination in his voice, and my respect for the old Hianja went up. But, for the first time, my respect was tinged with concern. I became uncomfortably aware of the huge and powerful warship that I was on. Bigger and more powerful by far than anything Earth had.
“I can assure you Chairman Krusniet that you certainly do not have anything to fear from the Human species,” I said with a disarming smile. “We have far too much in common to fear each other.”
“Let us hope so for all of our sakes Captain,” he replied with a stiff smile. “Please allow me to introduce you to some other senior members of the Prime Council, and then show you to your apartment where you can get some rest. Tomorrow we have much to discuss.”
The introductions which followed were more for the benefit of the Council members than for me, they all wanted to meet the Earthman. The names and faces were a blur to me, but they were unquestionably the oldest group of Hianja I had ever seen. Old but still lively it seems, because they greeted my introduction with enthusiasm and numerous questions, so m
uch so that the Chairman had to hold up a restraining hand and chide them for their rudeness.
“The Captain and his partner have been through a very stressful time. Let us allow them some rest before we satisfy our curiosity. Captain, Manera, please follow me and I will show you to your apartments. After you are rested we can get together for a more formal session.” We followed the Chairman down a corridor. We were accompanied by a couple of robots, not the fearsome insectoids but the normal humanoid type. They were armed with stun guns I noticed.
Our apartment was large and beautifully furnished and the Chairman took his leave of us with friendly shoulder hugs, which Manera reluctantly submitted to.
“So, you are my partner now are you?” I grinned, when the Chairman had gone. “Can’t be more official than that, the Chairman of the Prime Council has said so.”
“Someone has to take care of you,” she grinned, “Must have a shower,” she added “I’ve got sand somewhere quite painful!” and rapidly divesting herself of clothes she headed for the bathroom.
“Let me know if you want help to remove it,” I offered with a grin. “In the meantime, a drink is called for,” and I headed for the well stocked bar.
After a refreshing shower, in which all sand was carefully removed, we dressed in fresh clothes provided by our hosts and relaxed with a couple of potent Srenicka cocktails. These, Manera assured me, would remove the hair from my chest! Relaxing on the sofa with my beautiful partner and sipping the delicious alien cocktail, I decided that life could hardly get any better, but there was a little nagging worry in the back of my mind. I tried to focus on the worry, replaying the events of the past few days back to myself, before it came to me. What was bothering me now was the realisation that the Hianja were no longer the defenceless lambs I had assumed. They possessed fearsome military weapons, and did not shrink from using them when the situation dictated.
