by S. H. Jucha
She told the story of her two inseparable sons, the older boy, Dalton, always looking out for his adventuresome younger brother, Tim. As teenagers, they were intoxicated with dangerous sports, riding air currents with their foils and racing the rapids in their glide boats.
On a beautiful summer’s day, she’d watched her sons race their glide boats down one of Mt. Carine’s fast-flowing rivers, with seven other teens. The river was swollen from recent rains and the usually blue-green waters were a muddy brown. At the start of the race, Tim took the lead, his more aggressive style finding the faster path through the rapids. Dalton was third in the pack. Halfway through the race, a large tree branch, swept downstream by the torrents, punched up through Tim’s glide boat, capsizing it and throwing Tim into the rough waters. When he saw his brother disappear beneath the surface, Dalton tore off his flotation jacket and dove into the dark roiling waters. Hours later and kilometers downstream, they recovered the bodies of the two boys. Tim’s chest had been punctured by the thick branch. He’d died instantly. Dalton had drowned trying to save his dead brother.
When Maria finished, silence held the room captive. “You have all suffered great losses. Your crewmates and friends are dead and a lifetime has passed while you slept. As a mother, who remembers her sons every day, I understand your loss and you have my sympathy.”
Her audience rose to their feet and saluted her with heads bowed and arms crossed. Maria glanced at Alex. He signaled her to rise and nodded his head down, implying that she should do the same. She rose and mimicked his action, holding her head down for a solemn moment.
Renée thanked their visitors, motioning them toward the exit. The twins led the way. As the New Terrans filed out, many of the Méridiens brushed a sympathetic hand on Maria’s arm or shoulder as she passed them. Tears formed in her eyes in response to their gentle attention. She regained her composure on the way to the airlock and hung back as the others entered before her. Stopping beside Alex, she whispered in his ear. “Good tour, lovely people, wonderful meal. I especially loved the theatrics on the bridge.” Then she gave him a wink and joined the others in the airlock.
Once their visitors were safely transferred to the shuttle’s airlock, Alex, Renée, and the twins walked back to the bridge, where they found the rest of the Méridiens waiting.
“Did we do well, Ser?” Terese asked of Renée.
“Yes, I’m very proud of you all.”
“And us, Captain Racine,” Étienne asked, “did we perform adequately as you requested?”
The bit of drama Alex had devised for the Assemblyman had been a serious gambit. But, in his heart of hearts, he knew that a man like Downing might have easily mistaken the Méridien’s gentle ways for weakness, and first impressions, his parents had reminded him time and time again, were critical.
As he thought of the terrified look on Downing’s face, he started to laugh and couldn’t stop. When he finally caught his breath, he assumed a stern face and imitated Étienne, “The man has insulted Ser,” and surrendered to another fit of laughter, releasing the tension he had built up.
He stepped forward and hugged Étienne. “Well done, Étienne and you too, Alain,” Alex said still chuckling. “Well done, everyone,” he repeated, turning to face the others. They beamed and clasped hands with one another, basking in his compliment.
Renée watched her people enjoy a moment of contentment. She realized that Julien had been right all along. Alex was much more than their rescuer.
-14-
At Minister Drake’s request, Alex settled their twinned crafts into a geosynchronous orbit 70 km from the Joaquin orbital station. It was not lost on Alex that the Minister was bending over backward to develop a cordial relationship with him, and he considered that a very good sign.
They waited for the government’s response to the visitor’s tour. Alex split his time between discussions with Renée and Julien, direct vid links with his parents and sister, and work with each of the Rêveur’s specialists, cataloguing repairs still to be made.
Claude presented him with a substitute for his EVA suit, a Méridien environment suit that was half the weight and much more flexible. Pia and Geneviève had deconstructed three of their suits to make it for him. Its snug fit was similar to a New Terran ocean dive suit, and even though the air tanks were smaller they delivered forty percent more air time than his tanks.
Utilizing the new suit, Alex helped Claude cover the entire interior and exterior of the ship’s hull with a laser-scanning transmitter built by Edouard that allowed Julien to catalog three-dimensional views of the hull’s damage.
The view of the hull saddened both Alex and Claude as they examined the deadly strikes delivered by a single silver ship. Each energy beam had cut through the entire ship, except for the hardened FTL engine cones, burning through interior bulkheads, energy-storage crystals, cabin furniture, and thousands of other items, vaporizing them on the way from one side of the ship to the other.
Alex asked Claude about the crystal shards they continued to find. He was told that Méridiens grew their crystals as gaseous compounds under pressure, allowing the crystals to incorporate various metals or metallic compounds introduced during the process. The compounds determined a crystal’s engineering function: metal-crystal matrices produced capacitors and memory storage; and metal-amalgam crystals, suspended between lasers, were used to send and receive FTL comms.
During their recording process, Alex examined an engine support frame struck by a beam. “Julien, are you seeing this?” Alex asked as he panned the laser tool across the damage.
“Yes, Captain, I’m always recording.”
“No, sorry, what I meant is, take a look at the path of this beam strike and the extent of the damage.”
“Understood, Captain,” replied Julien, taking a renewed interest in the request. “Please step back to cover a wider area first.” Alex complied with his request. “Thank you. Now move the transmitter slowly from port to starboard. Now proceed to document the damage as you had been doing. What would you like done with this additional data?”
Claude, having worked closely with Alex since the first day, was well aware when he was on the hunt to solve a puzzle.
“Follow my train of thought, Julien,” Alex continued, “With your vids of the attack, you might be able to isolate this particular strike and calculate how far away the alien ship was when it caused the damage. And no one knows better than you how the Rêveur was built and with what materials. Now, you also have recordings of the damage caused by this particular beam.”
“Yes, Captain,” Julien stepped in quickly, “with the assembled data I can calculate the energy the beam carried when it struck the ship. It also might be possible to determine the type of energy released.”
“One more thing for you to consider,” Alex replied. “I’ve noticed that the beam strikes vary in diameter but not in strength. They had the same capacity to pass through the hull regardless of the beam’s diameter or the distance between the ships.”
“If I anticipate your reasoning, Captain, it would appear the silver ship uses a focused beam weapon. It narrows to a point at its farthest range, preserving power by doing so.”
“That was precisely my thought.”
“I’ll begin analysis of this information immediately.”
Claude laid a hand on Alex’s shoulder and smiled at him through the faceplate of his environment suit.
* * *
Renée had organized her fellow Méridiens into teams to walk every inch of the repaired areas—bridge, corridors, suites, crew and passenger cabins, refreshers, maintenance rooms, and general purpose rooms to catalog the supplies they required to be fully functional. Julien used their lists to extrapolate what might be needed once the rest of the ship was accessible then added thirty percent more, per Alex’s suggestion.
Meanwhile, Terese cataloged the medical supply needs and Edouard did the same for the environmental systems. All lists ended up in Julien’s databases.
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Alex and Claude continued their damage survey on the engines, inside and out; the two shuttles, both damaged; and the ship’s primary and secondary power-crystal banks. Only the bow’s primary power bank had survived, a fact that Julien didn’t miss.
After the evening meal, Julien requested the presence of Renée and Alex, on the bridge. They arrived to find Claude waiting for them. The holo-vid displayed a structural diagram of the aft end of the Rêveur. As they took their seats, Julien began. “I’ve prepared the calculations you requested, Captain. The beam’s energy when it struck the port engine frame, section 34D, was 10.7 mega-joules. The nature of the energy is undeterminable at this time. But I’ve designed a device that, once fabricated, will be able to sample the melted metal-alloys and help me make that determination.”
“Wonderful job, Julien,” Alex declared. “I’m not sure how we’ll use this data. But I fear we may find ourselves in need of as much information as possible in the near future. Not to mention that it will help us make our case to the New Terrans about the danger of the silver ship.”
The subtle changes in Alex’s speech, the longer he was on the Rêveur, had not gone unnoticed. He often referred to the New Terrans in the third person, including himself with the Méridiens. Julien had also noted the change in the way his people referred to Alex. He was no longer Captain Racine or the New Terran Captain. He was Captain or, in the more intimate form, our Captain.
“So, Julien, do you have anything in those vast archives of yours that would allow us to one,” Alex held up a finger, “generate an energy weapon that’s equally strong or stronger and two,” he held up a second finger, “design a hull shield capable of protecting us from multiple strikes?”
“I’ll begin reviewing my archives for answers, Captain.” Julien said.
Renée tried to assume a casual tone but it worried her that Alex’s fears echoed her own. “Do you think this work is necessary?” She felt relieved to finally vocalize the concern that had been weighing on her mind for many days.
“An alien starship attacked two of your starships,” Alex said, his tone gentle. “There was no prior contact or advanced warning. That small ship has a weapon that punches through your ships with eleven mega-joules of energy, and you have no means with which to defend yourselves. Furthermore, you’ve been gone from your Confederation for over seventy years. There are five possible scenarios for when you return to Méridien; one, your people won’t have had any more contact with the aliens; two, they’ll have met them and made peace with them; three, they’ll be at war with them; four, they’ll have been defeated by them; or, five, they’ll have defeated them. Where are you placing your creds?”
Renée was saddened to admit their encounter had probably not been a unique event, especially due to the speed and efficiency with which the silver ship disabled their vessels. She did not want to admit that the answer to Alex’s question was that her people were probably losing colonies and space or had already been utterly subjugated by an invading fleet. If the latter was true, the question became: were her people now subjects of this predatory race or had they been decimated, removed to make way for the expansion of an alien civilization?
They were all saved from their dark thoughts by Julien. “Ser, Minister Drake is on comm for you.”
“Minister, Renée de Guirnon here.”
“Good evening, Ser, I’m pleased to announce that the tour of your ship was a resounding success. President McMorris has scheduled an emergency meeting of the Assembly in two days, with your presentation at 11 hours.”
“We are more than pleased to hear of your decision, Minister.” Having already considered the next step, Renée requested, “We will need transportation to your Assembly for four, Minister Drake.”
“A shuttle has been dedicated to your needs, Ser. I’ll send the contact details of the pilots and crew to Tara soonest. It’s scheduled to rendezvous with you tomorrow at 14 hours. We will have accommodations prepared for you at Government House.”
“My thanks, Minister, we anticipate with pleasure our first visit to your planet. Rêveur fini.”
-15-
Alex and Renée used most of the evening to prepare their presentation. Julien downloaded the final vids and data to a portable holo-vid projector.
On schedule, their assigned shuttle stationed itself alongside the Rêveur. Renée turned over command to Edouard then transferred to the shuttle with Alex, Étienne, and Alain.
Their flight was quick and relatively uneventful, other than the fact that the three crew members couldn’t take their eyes off the Méridiens. When they set down at Prima’s main port, a pair of hover-cars, flying the President’s flags, awaited them just outside the safety zone. The Méridiens dialed up the tiny, grav-controllers embedded in their belt-harnesses to counter New Terra’s greater gravity before exiting the shuttle.
The Méridiens were thrilled with the ride to Government House. Tall, broad trees lined the main boulevards, rugged snow-capped mountains loomed in the distance, and New Terrans rode a variety of vehicles in the lanes beside them. Renée couldn’t help comparing the view to her home planet. Her people had spread up and out across the surface of Méridien before establishing their first colony on Bellamonde. Whereas the New Terrans had buildings no taller than fifteen or twenty stories, the Méridiens, with their anti-grav technology, had commonly built two-mile high structures, utilizing underground connectors for all modes of transportation, allowing the development of nearly every square mile of surface space.
Though her people protected the environment in their own way, she appreciated the New Terrans’ obvious respect for their planet’s innate beauty. The massive trees lining the boulevard, with their thick trunks and wide canopies stretching across much of the lanes, appeared to be hundreds of years old. During the centuries, Alex’s people had chosen to preserve them rather remove them to make way for expansion.
At one point, a young couple on a hover-bike zoomed up alongside their presidential convoy. While the driver looked for his next opening, the young woman seated behind him, her face decorated with bright faux-mask, looked into the darkened, security windows hiding Renée’s face and waggled her fingers at the glass before her driver opened the throttle and the hover-bike disappeared ahead.
“Your people are so expressive, Captain,” Renée said.
“Expressive? Yes, I suppose so. But that can be a good thing and a bad thing.”
At Government House, President McMorris personally greeted them. Alex watched the experienced politician manage his first in-person view of the Méridiens. He was better than most, but he still hesitated for a second or two, like a vid freezing, before continuing. Then, they were ushered up the front steps, out of the sun, and into the cool interior of the presidential offices and home.
Alex had toured Government House twice before, once after the President gave an important speech to a crowd assembled outside, so he noticed a significant change. The President’s security was keeping a very low profile, dressed in casual clothes, with weapons stowed out of sight, and only two agents present. After giving them an opportunity to freshen up in their rooms, the President led them on a tour of Government House.
Renée noticed how the President mixed details of the tour with questions that invited comparison with her people, drawing her out. He seemed genuinely interested in her culture, and she found herself warming to him. If her father still lived, the two men might become good friends.
A statue, more than twice her height, stood in the central rotunda, a man in an Ancient’s ship uniform. His physique wasn’t as commanding as that of the present New Terrans, but he bore many similarities. His expression was somber, and his eyes appeared to be looking far ahead, perhaps into the future.
“I gather he was an important person to your people, President McMorris,” Renée said gazing up to the statue’s face. She’d seen the plaque but couldn’t read the words. Julien’s translation program managed only audio sources, an oversight they woul
d need to rectify later.
“Yes, Ser, he is Lem Ulam, Captain of the New Terra.”
“I’ve heard the story of your colony ship, Mr. President. And may I say that despite the tragedy of your beginning, your people have much to be proud of, overcoming such hardships to flourish as you have done.”
“It certainly has made us robust individuals, Ser,” replied the President.
“Yes, I’ve observed that first hand,” Renée answered, sparing a glance at Alex. “Did he govern your people after he led you here?” she asked.
“He remained our Captain for almost twenty-seven years. Then one day he announced general elections and proclaimed his retirement. From that day, he was always found doing one menial task or another—anything he could do to help. He died four years later.”
“He is a man worthy of honor,” Renée said solemnly. “His family grieved for him, I’m sure.”
Silence greeted her statement. “Ser,” the President explained gently, “the Captain’s family remained on board the colony ship. He didn’t wake his wife and two young children. Later it was argued that he made the decision so that he wouldn’t be accused of favoritism; others claimed his wife and children didn’t qualify based on the Selection Board’s criteria.”
“Then he led a lonely life on your planet,” Renée lamented. “I wonder if our people would have fared as well under the same conditions. As circumstances would have it, we weren’t so tested.”
“We did have our growth pains even after we stabilized the enormous challenges of food and health,” the President said as he continued the tour. “Probably one of the most telling moments in our history occurred in 359 A.L., that’s after landing. Some forty-seven industry leaders banded together to propose a private school for their children and applied for a government permit. The press published their names, their holdings, and every product they had a hand in selling. Business for them ceased overnight. Contracts were cancelled. Drivers of their cargo and harvesters of their crops walked off the job. Days later, the land owners and company presidents made a public appeal, recalling their permit request. The populace paid them no mind and continued to boycott their goods until the forty-seven were broke. The government stepped in and purchased their land and companies at default prices then sold shares of the enterprises to the employees. The general populace made their point pretty clearly.”
