As his friend walked up from the room’s back row of seats, where Carlos had sat with Lori during the battles, he looked down. Daisy was watching a holo version of the wallscreen imagery, while Richard looked over at Alicia’s holo of the same. Up front, all the function post people were either watching the big image or a repeat in one of their holos. The top of the wallscreen still carried the images of the other seventeen Earth ship captains, including his father’s Bridge. On the left side of the wallscreen hung a situational image that showed all space from the local star out to their current position. The graphic made clear the distance to the seventh world was almost 25 AU. The system’s Kuiper Belt of comets lay between the magnetosphere at 45 AU and the 19 AU position of the Pluto-like world. He glanced at the true space holo on the right side of the screen. The Lepanto’s electro-optical scope carried an image showing the cluster of surviving wasp ships. Two giant ships plus thirteen destroyer-sized ships were following the Earth ships, but someone in command among the wasps had allowed the separation between the two fleets to become nearly 100,000 klicks. Then again, ships traveling at ten percent of lightspeed could cover such a distance very quickly. If the enemy increased their engine speed to eleven or twelves psol, they could overtake the Earth fleet.
“Lieutenant JG Antonova reporting.”
Jacob looked away from the cartoon imagery that was concluding with images of the wasp ships sending down larvae pods to the third world, while Earth ships returned to Valhalla. Lori looked tired. Her long hours working with Alicia’s xenolinguist to compile a basic conversational guide of English-to-wasp smells had kept her from sleep, from dates with Carlos, even from the Dance Night event all ships had enjoyed on the way out to meet his father’s fleet. Her pale blue eyes fixed on him.
“Antonova, you’ve seen this new cartoon and its proposal. What do you make of it?”
“Yes,” called his father from the wallscreen. “Should we reply to it?”
Lori stood stiffly in her vacsuit, helmet thrown onto her back. Allowing folks to breath ship air was the one adjustment Jacob had allowed from full combat readiness. She gestured at the wallscreen cartoon video. “They want to do what this species has always focused on doing. They want to put down their larvae pods on this system’s third world, which they know by now is very welcoming to their kind of flying arthropod. Bear in mind the wounded wasp ship has been there for some weeks. Surely it has sent lots of signals to these new wasps.” She paused, licked her lips, then looked aside to Alicia, who gave her an encouraging nod. “Note the cartoon does not display the wasp ship now heading to Valhalla. Which, even with the loss of one engine, will make it to Valhalla way before any fleet ship can get there to stop it. My guess is they will accept the idea of the Inchon watching them at the third world while their wounded ship watches us at Valhalla.”
Jacob nodded. That all made sense. “But can we trust them to stay around the third world?”
Lori put arms behind her back. Her face grew tense. A vein on her forehead pulsed visibly. “Trust may not be in the scent speech of this alien species. Last century a pollie said ‘Trust but verify’ when the Russian Federation was posing a threat to America and other nations. Fortunately, after the Putin Era, my nation became more world friendly.” She paused. “I suggest we not trust anything they say. If we allow them to come into the Kepler 22 system, follow them all the way to the third world. Watch them deposit their larvae pods. Keep watching them until we see wasps on their hulls in spacesuits doing repair work. Then leave the Inchon on watch and pull back to Valhalla. We can keep most ships orbiting out beyond its moon, as a front-line defense ready to head off any wasp movement toward Valhalla. Meanwhile, we can do hull repairs as needed. But allowing them into this system puts them within two AU of Valhalla. Captain, that is up to you and the admiral.”
“Exactly,” said his father from the Bridge of the Midway. “Lieutenant Antonova, what is next most important to these wasps, to Earth wasps, beyond depositing young larvae at a new nest?”
She turned and faced the wallscreen image of his father. “Sir, admiral, on Earth what is next most important to wasps, whether social or solitary, is to protect the Queen wasp that is the mother of all wasp castes in the nest.” She looked aside to Alicia, then back. “Beyond the Queen might be the Fighter in charge of all the nest’s fighting adults, which could be both sexes or a single sex. We have observed one captive Worker wasp having sex in flight with two of the other Worker captives. The wasp who initiated the sex was the Worker leader among the captives.”
His father nodded quickly, then looked away from Lori. “Commander Branstead, your people developed the English-to-wasp guide. Is there a single Queen wasp in these ships, or several?”
Jacob looked to his Science chief. Like him she was still strapped into her seat. She looked up. “Fleet Admiral Renselaer, I don’t know. We do know what Lieutenant Antonova has shared. The captives in our Forest Room include both sexes. There is a hierarchy present. Their terms for each other are Worker and Worker Leader. We did catch rare scent talk of a Matron and a Hunter. Those must be wasps at a higher level than Workers. They did not mention Fighter, although our Marines encountered such specialized wasps during their ship boarding.”
His father frowned. “Let us assume these wasps would refuse a demand to give us their Queen, or Queens, as hostages for good behavior by them. Commander, prepare a cartoon video showing the wasp ships heading to the third world, with our fleet following, their arrival, their dropping of these pod babies as we watch, then our return to Valhalla with the Inchon remaining on watch.” The man who had dominated Jacob’s life since he was able to walk now looked to him. “Captain Renselaer, I will take the lead in this negotiation. I am willing to allow these wasps to go to the world they want for a colony, but only if they give me a high-ranking hostage as a guarantee of their peaceful behavior in the future.” He looked to Lori. “Lieutenant, can your language guide provide the right smells to convey what I’ve just said?”
Lori winced. “Maybe. We do have the smell pattern for the phrase Hunter Who Leads. And also the smell pattern for Mother Who Births All. I can provide you with a smell guide for transmittal along with the cartoon video. The vocabulary guide we transmitted to your Communications person will translate any pheromone reply the wasps send to you. While you do not have a modified pheromone signaler like we do, you are not talking in person, which would require such a device. Sending the correct polarized radio signals should allow basic talk with the wasps.”
The admiral pursed his lips. “Good. Branstead, Antonova, make it happen. Fast. I want to send this reply before that wounded wasp ship makes it to Valhalla.”
Alicia unlocked her straps and stood up. “Sir, Lieutenant Antonova and I will prepare the cartoon and smell talk recording that says what you have said.”
Jacob thought this was going too fast. “Fleet admiral, I have a hunch there is more happening on the wasp side than simple desire to put baby wasps down on the third world. May I pursue this further with my experts?”
His father looked briefly surprised. “You may. There is no new attack. We have time. At least until the wasp ship gets to Valhalla.”
Jacob looked to where Alicia and Lori were about to depart. “Lieutenant Antonova, hold a moment.”
“Sir?” she said, turning to face him, with Alicia behind her.
“What else should we know about these alien wasps? Based on what you know of Earth wasps.”
She grimaced. “I could spend hours talking about the similarities between Earth wasps and these alien wasps, and their differences.”
“Be succinct. Hit what is most important for the fleet admiral to know. He will be the one on the front line of negotiation.”
Lori turned thoughtful, then faced Jacob’s father. “Fleet admiral, the wasps of Earth have been around longer than any mammal species dead or living. They first appeared during the Jurassic period, when the biggest dinosaurs ruled the Earth. That means our wasp
s showed up at least 145 million years ago, perhaps as far back as 200 million years ago.” She paused, then continued. “There are more than 100,000 species of wasps now living on Earth. They have specialized into many ecozones. Earth’s wasps have a complex social structure that consists of Queen, workers, fighters and non-fertile males. Social wasp species meet the definition of eusocial creatures as defined by the biologist Edward O. Wilson. A eusocial species is one that has a reproductive division of labor, overlapping generations and cooperative care of the young.” She gestured at the true space holo of the wasp spaceships. “Every image we’ve seen of these wasps, from Kepler 22 to here, show their ships built with six sides, and moving in groups of six, which surely must be the basis of their math and of their city or nest construction down on a planet. They can fight solo or as a group. They will sacrifice themselves for the greater good, as one did to save the giant ship that led the attack in Kepler 22. Earth wasps are determined breeders and colonizers of new territories. They build nests in the ground, in rock walls and in tree hollows.” His father began tapping his armrest, a sure sign of impatience. Lori must have seen it too. She stiffened her posture. “Fleet admiral, these alien wasps match many of the behavior and culture patterns of Earth wasps. I would not share a planet with them. But they may, might just allow us to live on Valhalla while they occupy the third world. There are hundreds of millions of kilometers between the two worlds now and more when three is on the far side of the local star. That may be enough separation distance for this alien wasp species to feel safe.”
“Or they may attack Valhalla in the future,” his father said thoughtfully, his gloved hands resting on his lap.
“Exactly,” Jacob said hurriedly. “Fleet admiral, in Kepler 22 these wasps attacked us right after putting down their larvae pods on Kepler’s fourth world. They could do the same here.”
His father fixed on Lori. “Antonova, thank you for that overview. It is clear these flying alien insects have many of the successful and dangerous elements of Earth wasps. And their seeking of colony worlds says to me their home world is overcrowded. So we have something they want. If they give me a top boss hostage, I am willing to keep watch on them and see if this wasp fleet leaves Kepler 22 in peace, after they plant their babies. We’ll see.”
Lori looked to him. Jacob gave a wave. “Lieutenant, Commander, go do the work ordered by the fleet admiral.”
They saluted him and headed aft. Jacob looked up to his father. “Sir, we are eighteen ships and they are fifteen. If these wasps attempt deceit after colonizing three, we should be able to destroy their entire fleet.”
“True,” his father said, his manner going to the Alpha Dog In Charge manner that Jacob knew from when he had been old enough to realize there were other important adults in life than just his father. Like his mother. “But we could lose another four or five ships, now that we do not have the element of surprise. The Unity pollies sent me out here to do two jobs. Defend this colony and find a way to end this war with aliens. Let’s see if the second job is possible.”
Jacob could not disagree with what his father was saying. It was similar to what he and Daisy had hoped when they left Kepler 22, and later when the surviving wasp ships had departed from Kepler 10. Maybe smell talk would achieve what now seemed impossible. One thing he could do if a hostage arrived. Put the wasp hostage in with the Worker wasps and listen in on what they said to each other. The retreat of two wasp ships upon receiving his ship’s pheromone broadcast clearly showed wasp scent talk was not encrypted. Maybe the fleet could benefit from future disruptive broadcasts, as Richard had earlier suggested. It was one tool humans had that no wasp could imitate, since all neutrino signals between Earth ships were encoded according to an encryption key that changed daily. War on Earth had taught the Star Navy and American military leaders a few things about fighting a powerful enemy. He just hoped this new enemy did not have a similar surprise waiting for humanity.
♦ ♦ ♦
Hunter One watched one of his perception imagers as the simple imagery reply from the Soft Skins played out across the imager. It was accompanied by polarized pheromone scents that smelled strange, but were understandable. Had the Soft Skins learned scent casting from the four Swarmers they had taken captive? He had thought their loss was minor, as they were only a Worker Leader and three Workers. But now these Soft Skins were able to talk in simple Swarm scent while his people had no ability to transmit the acoustic signals the Soft Skins had engaged in during the meeting with his defective Servants. It seemed as if Hunter Prime’s pretend imagery had gained them access to the third world. But this scent talk that demanded a Fighter Leader or Hunter to come to them was puzzling. What was the purpose of such a request? He looked to another imager, past the shapes of his Servants who filled the Flight Chamber. Hunter Prime’s body was strong and carried the look of dynamic vitality. So different from earlier, after the loss of so many flying nests. The leader’s antennae leaned forward, then his gaze fixed on One.
“Hunter One, these Soft Skins demand we send a Swarmer of high caste to them before they allow us a flight path inward,” said their leader in a flow of dominance and trail pheromones. “In your prior imagery signals, have these Soft Skins ever demanded such a thing?”
“They never demanded such a matter,” he scent cast in a flow of puzzlement scent crossed with aggregation pheromones. “Even when we sent a simple image asking them to send a Soft Skin from each nest down to Warmth, with imagery of our nests sending single representatives, there was never any imagery of caste level. I hoped the Soft Skins would send each nest’s Hunter to the meeting, while I sent defective Servants. I thought destroying their Hunter leaders would render their nests confused and unable to fight.”
His leader’s wings moved rapidly, lifting him to a hover above his bench. “You made an error in thinking such. Your imagery records show the Soft Skin nests fighting hard and killing more of your nests than you killed of their nests. As has happened here.” The scent flow from Hunter Prime was a mix of alarm, frustration, signal and calming pheromones. “It seems these Soft Skins wish to hold captive a Hunter. The other Hunters in our flight are Support Hunters. You are a high caste Hunter. Your nest is wounded. I will send you to these Soft Skins.”
Dismay filled One. He would lose control of his nest! How could he lead from inside a Soft Skin nest that had a pull down weight twice what Nest held? Would he ever be able to return, if Hunter Prime killed all the flying Soft Skin nests?
“Hunter Prime, I accept your decision.” The leader’s antennae leaned forward. “But, how may I return to lead my nest? My Servants, my Fighters, my Workers, they know my scent. They are used to me. I am used to them.”
“So you are, so they are,” the leader said in a dominant scent flow. “Whatever Soft Skin nest you travel to, I will allow it to live until you are returned. Then I will destroy it. Together we will then destroy the Soft Skin colony on the fourth world!”
It was clear he had no choice. “Accepted is your scent.”
“Your caste will speak of your offspring with pride,” Hunter Prime said quickly. “Now, watch me as I send my image to these Soft Skins, then provide your image as the one to go to them.”
“I attend,” Hunter One said, thinking quickly about which Swarmer he could leave in command of the nest.
The elderly male Servant who studied aberrant social behaviors was the last Swarmer he would trust for such sensitive work. The Flight Servant and the Speaker To All Servant were both needed at their functions, as was the propulsive Servant. He turned to the young female who had shown herself to be a deadly enemy to the Soft Skins.
“Stinger Servant, you will lead the Flight Chamber and our nest down to the new colony world, then join with Hunter Prime in attacking and killing the nests of these Soft Skins,” he said in a strong flow of dominance, trail, territorial and signal pheromones. “Order a Worker Leader to prepare an air bubble for my transport to one of these Soft Skin nests.”
Hunter One flew up from his bench, twisted in the air and flew to the opening that gave access to the tubeway outside. It would be a short flight to the chamber where air bubbles were stored. The future scent commands of Hunter Prime would be heard by all Swarmers in his nest, thanks to the pheromone signalers that adorned the walls of every chamber. He would perceive every scent emitted by their leader, even aboard the air bubble. Then would come a strange experience. He would arrive among creatures who had too few limbs and who surely had no idea what their scents meant to themselves or to any other lifeform.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jacob watched the imagery from inside one of the giant wasp ships as its leader now appeared in a live video. The wasp control room resembled a large bubble, with a central platform holding benches on which sat eighteen wasps. In the middle, resting on a larger bench, was the largest wasp he had ever seen. It was easily twice as big as the Worker wasps in his ship’s Forest Room. And this wasp hovered above his bench, two brown wings moving quickly as they supported him in the half gee gravity of his ship. Jacob glanced at the left side wallscreen image that held the situational image and its green and purple dots. It showed both fleets were still far away from the seventh world. The neutrino sensor image on the right side indicated this wasp was calling from a giant wasp ship. It was one of the giant ships that had arrived with other wasp ships. But it was not the giant ship that had attacked his battle group at Kepler 22, that had been confirmed by Rosemary at Tactical based on sensor records. It was a fact he had texted to his father, who now stood before his seat on the Bridge of the Midway, ready to negotiate. Alicia and Lori had produced the new video with attached pheromone talk demands in just two hours. They still had plenty of time before the wounded wasp ship got to Valhalla. He and everyone else listened closely.
Battlegroup (StarFight Series Book 2) Page 21
