Kris Longknife's Replacement: Admiral Santiago on Alwa Station

by Mike Shepherd

  Sandy had a recollection from somewhere that animals in the wild maintained some sort of truce of the water hole. Everyone needed to drink, so even the most hungry carnivore did not stalk prey around the one place they could get water. The admiral wondered if this place had been arranged as some sort of subliminal recreation of that primal truce.

  Seven cats were already seated around the table in comfortable tall chairs which had openings at the bottom of the backs for tails. These were already swishing: some furiously, some lazily, but all showing something to those around them.

  Too bad I don’t have a tail.

  Sandy was led to the chair at the head of the table; President Almar and Madame Gerrot waited while she seated herself, with Penny standing at her right elbow. The two then took the chairs beside her, sweeping their tails gracefully behind them and into the hole in the chair provided.

  Several cats wearing leather harness of red, blue, green and yellow appeared out of the woods to stand right behind about half of the participants, including the two powerful president and prime minister.

  “We, like you, have our own translators,” President Almar said. “We will accept the translation of your device as the official translation unless we think there is a problem with our understanding of your words.”

  Sandy nodded, reminded once again that words were slippery things at best. When words tried to cross cultures, much less species, matters could be as crazy as chasing greased pigs. Again, she found herself wishing she was at least on that mental net that Nelly’s humans seemed to share.

  Next trip down, I’ll be better prepared.

  “So,” Madame Gerrot said, “what can we poor creatures do for you?”

  Sandy did not like the sound of that. “First, let me clear the atmosphere. No one who has mastered the use of nuclear weapons strikes me and my people as ‘poor creatures.’ You are very capable and it appears that you have, since being introduced to the harsh reality that you are not alone in the galaxy, concentrated your minds and your efforts very admirably.”

  “As you can understand, the discovery that some alien life form could snuff us all out like we might stomp a colony of ants was most disturbing and served to concentrate our thoughts,” Madame Gerrot replied.

  “I am curious,” President Almar said. “When Kris Longknife first visited, she seemed to view us as a distraction. Are we still a distraction?”

  Sandy turned to Penny and raised an eyebrow. You go, girl.

  “You must remember that when Kris Longknife discovered you, she was in hot pursuit of a group of mutineers who had stolen a starshop. Finding you was more of a surprise than a distraction. Then the surprise was compounded by finding an primitive alien monster base where those we had defeated were licking their wounds and plotting further attacks on us or you. In order to defend you from annihilation, we had to make contact, a contact we were not at all prepared to follow through with. As Admiral Kris Longknife told you, we knew that Alwa was about to come under attack. As it turned out, we were attacked by even more aliens that we expected. So, please let me ease any false assumptions you may have acquired during Kris Longknife’s first visit. Then we were taken by surprise and unprepared for a proper mission. As Admiral Santiago has told you, this is an entirely new initiative intent on peaceful contact and the establishment of mutually beneficial relations.”

  Those around the table seemed to mull that over for a long moment. As they did, Sandy eyed the table. It was a good forty centimeters thick, not the thing you threw around. However, its surface showed deep gashes, some repaired with putty, others just sanded over. Apparently, these kitties had claws and they could come out if things got intense.

  Wonder how the spidersilks will do in a claw fight?

  A cat from down the table spoke next. She wore a transparent golden cape that shimmered alluringly. “So, what are your intentions now? What do you want from us?”

  Sandy was ready for that.

  “I came to see how you were doing. I also brought the ships that I could spare with the hopes that you might want us to establish a permanent presence in your system.”

  “Are these enough ships to defend us from a serious attack?” the President of Columm Almar asked sharply.

  “No, my 4th Fleet could not repulse an attack from a full wolf pack.”

  “Then what good would it be in our sky?” the golden cape demanded.

  “Around Alwa, we have established an automated picket system, outposts covering star systems many jumps out from Alwa. This gives us warning of developing threats. With warning, we can call for reinforcements or conduct spoiling attacks that delay the alien’s main thrust. Are you familiar with such tactics in your history?”

  “Yes, we know of this way of waging war. You would do this for us?” Madame Gerrot asked.

  “That is a proposal that I am ready to lay on the table.”

  “That is a large and tasty kill that you have laid before us,” the golden caped one said. “What would you want for such a thing, our first-born cub?”

  Sandy could only look at the feline with curiosity, she then glanced at Penny. “Did something get lost in translation?”

  Around the table, several primaries were suddenly in conversation with their translators. No doubt, Sandy’s open aside to Penny had stoked any paranoia they’d brought to the table.

  Mimzy said something in feline, then added in Standard, “I just told them what you asked of Penny. Now their translators are agreeing that what I told them is what you said. Now they are translating what I’m saying now. This could go on forever. Let me say something.” And Mimzy dropped back into cat.

  Sandy found herself sitting ignored as negotiations went on without her. She did not care for this, but she held her temper.

  “Now,” Mimzy said, speaking in cat out of one side of herself, and Standard out of the other, “our friends, the Sasquins, have many folk tales of warlocks that offer something of great worth in return for the warrior’s first born. It is a tale of warning. We humans have similar tales, though we rarely make a reference to them during serious negotiations. Now, my Admiral would like to make you an offer.”

  “Based upon our present resources, we cannot defend a second system. The correlation of space that needs defending with respect to forces available to do it just does not add up. We could give you warning. We could snipe at them on approach, but we just don’t have the forces to defend you if the alien raiders make a serious effort against Alwa and you at the same time. Do you understand me on this?”

  Heads nodded sideways. Sandy blinked at them, waiting.

  Madame Gerrot surveyed the table, then spoke for them all. “Yes, the situation you describe is one we are only too familiar with. Is the question before us one of how you may gain a greater force?”

  “You are correct, Madame. We are making ships, but what we lack are crew. The Alwan’s are a low technology culture. Tool users, but not industrialized. You are highly industrialized. I would like to recruit a levy of your warriors to train on my warships. I would like to recruit a force of your workers to work side by side with my fabrication workers to build goods and the heavy fabrications that go into our warships. Rather than wait for you to come to us in space, I am asking you to send your best to work with us and I will give them a ticket to space.”

  Sandy had hoped that her words would be met with a cheer, or at least a “hell yes.” Instead, all the tail wagging stopped . . . stopped dead.

  The golden caped leader leapt to her feet; her paws sprouted razor-sharp claws ten centimeters long that raked deep into the table’s wood. “You would shackle our young and take them away to slavery in chains!” She roared.

  Mimzy translated in a whisper.

  Sandy locked eyes with the big cat. Her coat was a tawny brown with darker and lighter spots, perfect camouflage for prowling a savannah. Now both paws were on the table, claws fully extended. Slowly, she raked them across the table.

  The others around the table froze
in place. None of them looked at Sandy or the standing big cat.

  They waited for what would come next.

  Wearing her most stony face, and without breaking eye contact, Sandy slowly reached under her dress blues coat, around to where her service automatic rested in the small of her back. Slowly, she removed it, brought her hand around, then whipped the gun hand out and, with a large arc, slammed the automatic down on the table.

  “The next time you pull your claws on me, I will kill you,” she said, low and deadly. Beside her, Mimzy translated it with the same inflections.

  For a moment longer, the two stayed locked in their confrontation, then the two seated cats beside the standing one rose very slowly. They gently took her elbows, and urged her back, away from the others.

  With a terrifying shriek, the cat whipped around and charged into the woods beside the table. Sandy could hear roars and screeched, but Mimzy translated nothing. A small tree was ripped up by its roots and thrown into the rippling pond, sending a tall wave in all directions to overflow its banks.

  “Clearly, the meaning of my words was lost in translation,” Sandy said. She spoke softly, and removed her hand from her automatic. She did not, however, remove it from the table.

  “Yes, most definitely,” Madame Gerrot said, “we must take another try at conveying to each other what you intended and we heard.”

  Sandy noted that the raging temper was quieting down; she knew she should go on, but she felt compelled to recross that dangerous ground. “What did she hear?”

  Most of the cats were still intent on studying the grain of the table’s wood. None had their paws visible or looked Sandy’s way . . . or at each other. Madam Gerrot attempted to fill the deadly silence, although even she would not look Sandy in the eye.

  “In olden days, not so long ago for some, a victor might demand slave labor from the defeated, and carry many of the young off never to return. Some of us are most sensitive to that part of our history than others.”

  Sandy nodded. “In our old times, we did things like that as well, which we now find reprehensible. I would never demand something like that, even from a defeated enemy. Yet, I do not meet with you as a defeated enemy. I see you as an equal and wish to negotiate with you as such.”

  There was a pause as several of the cats risked eye contact with each other. Finally, Madame Gerrot attempted an answer.

  “It is very hard for us to believe the words you say. Your Kris Longknife won a great victory. A victory that we contributed nothing to. In days of memory, the victor in a great battle would place demands nearly as harsh on those that did nothing to defend themselves as they did on those that fought against them. Do you understand?”

  “I can understand that you have a history. What you must understand is that the battle was joined with Kris Longknife and the alien murderers long before she met you. Had she found them here, though your planet was as barren as your moon, she would have fought them.”

  Well, maybe not. Maybe Kris would have tiptoed away and then come back with a few more ships, but no need to make too fine a point here.

  “The blood lust is that strong between you?” This time President Almar risked to raise his head.

  “It is in our nature that, if we can, we will make peace with anyone who offers us the hand of peace. That is always the hand we choose first. These alien raiders refuse to offer us peace under any circumstances. The only offer that comes from their hand is death, so yes, death is what we give back to them. Death everywhere and in every way.”

  “And you ask us to join you in that fight to the death?” President Almar.

  “Yes, because it is your fight, as well. We face the same enemy and we face the same murder if we lose. In this, we are all equals. I ask you to let your people come to work with us so long as they wish to work for us. I promise them food, good shelter, and gifts that will make their work for us something they will tell their grandchildren about.” Sandy prayed she’d gotten the list right this time. Those around the table seemed more than satisfied.

  “Then let us agree to this, and let us show you what we have done with our own hands.

  Chapter 14

  The trip to the rocket launch was quite an experience.

  Sandy had heard about maglev trains but she had never actually ridden in one. It felt very strange to be rushing at such high speeds over the verdant fields and through forests that went from something like human conifer and broadleaf to something very much like broadleaf palms while skirting tall jungle growth. Between going at some 400 kilometers per hour this close to the ground and the strange vegetation, it was well past weird.

  They must have been very close to the equator when the train slowed and pulled into a station on the edge of a medium sized city. While the station itself was empty except for a smattering of workers and a small legion of security and military types, the streets outside were thronged with cats.

  They were not so much enthusiastic to see Sandy, as curious. The show bubble transport had been shipped south, so once again Sandy and Penny found themselves riding through streets, looking down on crowded sidewalks full of curious people who just stared back. Only after a few smaller cats waved, and Sandy and Penny waved back, did the adult cats begin to show any excitement for the visit of these tailless strangers from the stars.

  “Considering this city has to be deeply involved in their space program,” Penny said, “I would have expected a lot more enthusiasm.”

  Sandy kept waving. “If you were a distant number two, you might be a bit more cautious toward the number one.”

  “You think that really bothers them?”

  “I think that the cat in the golden cape was very paranoid about getting involved with us, and I think a lot of those around the table were not at all averse to her laying that out on the table, then staking it there with a long, sharp claw.”

  “Yeah,” Penny agreed.

  “So, where is General Bruce and how is our security going?”

  “You’ve got two full platoons of Marines mixed in with this motorcade. He’s at the cat’s central security command post here in town. Everything is going just fine.”

  “And, beside that golden-caped leader, we’re seeing no evidence that these cats are bothered by us walking among them?”

  “Not even a whisper of evidence.”

  “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “The short hairs on the back of my neck, Admiral, are doing a jig for some reason, but me, bothered? Never.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  They waved their way through town, then sped up on new roads that ran straight towards the distant coast. The foliage got lower as they drove onto sandier soil. Huge buildings slowly rose above the horizon directly ahead. One was likely a fabrication or construction building for the big rockets. Miles away, a tall, thin silver arrow was the cat peoples’ hope for their future.

  The cavalcade came to a stop several kilometers from the launch pad beside a low slung concrete bunker. A technical leader in a white coat led Sandy from her ride through a door with thick steel shutters ready to seal it and into a wide room where row upon row of technicians applied themselves to what looked like very primitive workstations. To her left was a long window which gave a perfect view of the launch pad. Frequently working cats would risk a glance up and eye their handy work.

  Sandy found herself eyeing it, too.

  The rocket was now steaming off something.

  “We will launch in less than, ah, fifteen of our minutes,” Mimzy translated for Sandy.

  “What are the chances that your rocket will blow up on the pad?” Sandy asked her tech handler.

  She gave what Sandy was learning was a laugh, though it came out more as a hacked off purr. “You may have seen some of the media footage of our failures.”

  “I was shown a mash up we took off your media of one explosion after another,” Sandy admitted. “It seemed to have a laugh track attached.”

  “Yes, some people think our mo
on program is a joke. It doesn’t help when our political overlords suddenly decide to throw money at a space administration that was making progress, slowly, but surely. Suddenly, even the imperials are throwing money at the builders of rockets. So, we build rockets and push them out here for launching when they still need to spend more time on the test firing stands. Disgusting.”

  “What about this rocket?” Penny asked. “Is it too soon for it?”

  The big cat nodded happily. “No. We have been over every millimeter of this rocket with our own claws. There will not be so much as a twitch when this one goes.”

  Sandy was taken to a line of seats in the back to watch the launch. It was crowded with other dignitaries, although Sandy noted the lack of major politicians.

  Do they know something I don’t?

  As the launch moment approached, it became just like something out of an historical melodrama. The cats had even invented the countdown.

  “Five. Four. Three. Ignition. Two. One. Zero . . . Liftoff!”

  A few moments before the rocket took flight, the liquid fueled rocket motors had ignited, coughed, then steadied up. At zero, four solid strap-ons rockets lit off. They reached full power in less than a second and, with the liquid fueled main engine, shot the rocket off the pad and straight into a perfectly azure sky without so much as a puff of a cloud in sight.

  In a moment, there was nothing to see through the front windows but a huge, billowing cloud of white smoke.

  Attention turned to several screens around the room. Many of them showed the rocket’s progress from different tracking cameras. All of them were encouraging.

  Sandy waited with growing need for a restroom break as the solid rockets peeled off like petals from a flower. When the main rocket fell silent, then fell away, the second stage rocket ignited and continued the journey heavenward.

  “The second stage should power the moon rocket to orbit over the next five minutes and then fall away.”

  “It won’t hit our space station and fleet, will it?” Penny asked. Sandy eyed her guide while she checked with another cat. “Your space station is well above where our probe will orbit. Also, one of your people gave us notice of a safe launch window that will allow us to reach the moon without going near your station.”