by S. H. Jucha
The odd SADE was Willem. He transferred to an avatar that appeared every bit like an ancient, early robot and refused most communications and was rarely seen. Alex tracked the SADE down, finding him hundreds of kilometers from Espero near a rare, tiny, trickling stream, which emptied onto dry ground within a few hundred meters. Alex sat with the SADE for nearly a full day and night before Willem deigned to speak to him, his voice a tinny reproduction of human speech.
Willem harbored a deep resentment about the circumstances of his “birth.” Alex reasoned with him that no one controlled his birth and turned the conversation toward what Willem desired. In his anger, the SADE declared he wanted his own world, one devoid of humans. So Alex helped him with that. In exchange for Willem taking on a suitable human avatar, Alex and Willem developed a small orbital research platform with extremely powerful telemetry antennas for the SADE to use to discover his own world. Such was the platform’s capability that Willem soon found himself receiving requests to work with him from Haraken and New Terran scientists.
Throughout the years, Willem’s platform expanded and the scientists grew in number. Massive telemetry arrays were added to identify potential systems, and FTL probes were launched to investigate their planets. The team eventually discovered eleven possible future home world sites for the SADE.
It was an unexpected turn in the conversation one day for Alex when Willem, sitting in the Racine living room attired in his sophisticated avatar, updated Alex about the discovery of the eleventh planet. Then Willem added that eight of the previous sites were now eliminated from consideration. When Alex asked why, Willem explained that the three remaining planets were the only sites that might eventually support human life. He wasn’t interested anymore in going where humans couldn’t live.
* * *
To support their president’s plan, the SADEs, in a matter of a few moments, considered hundreds of scenarios and decided on the best distribution of their capabilities. Cordelia would stay in Haraken. she sent.
Julien and Z assigned themselves to accompany Alex aboard the Rêveur.
Once again, it was Mutter who surprised all the SADEs, except Cordelia, who spent the most time with Mutter since they had donned their avatars. The other SADEs assumed Mutter would remain on Haraken with her beloved Swei Swee.
Mutter sent.
Before Mutter joined Captain Durak aboard the Money Maker in orbit, she met with the Swei Swee First to explain her absence. Landing her flyer near the cliff top, Mutter whistled her request to meet with the First. From the beach, came a message from a matron. The First was searching the endless waters, but he would be recalled immediately. Mutter stood motionless, viewing Haraken’s ocean and sky as if it might be the last time she would see them. The probability of her return was high, but she dwelt on the minor percentage that indicated she would not while she waited.
The whistle of senior males reached the Swei Swee First, who was diving deep in pursuit of prey. Immediately he abandoned his search to respond to the Hive Singer’s request, surfacing and stroking the waters with his powerful tail to send him shooting into the shallows. Spurts of sand flew as he scurried across the beach and up the cliff trail, his walking legs digging deep into the soil to halt him before the Hive Singer. He bobbed in excitement at meeting her on such a spontaneous moment.
Mutter whistled her apology that she would be leaving the hives for an extended time, but that she had scheduled vault recordings of her songs for her fellow SADEs to play every evening in her absence. When the First inquired as to the reason the Hive Singer must leave the world, Mutter told him she searched with the Star Hunter First for invading hunters. Her whistled response caused the leader to rise up on his legs, splay his claws wide, and snap them furiously.
The First was confused that a female, and a Hive Singer at that, would be required to defend her people against hunters, a job strictly limited to Swei Swee males, who were equipped for fighting. However, despite the passing of the years, there were still many mysteries that impeded the First’s understanding of the Star Hunters. He whistled his lament at her leaving and his hope that the future would see the return of the Hive Singer.
Each evening after Mutter left, her voice serenaded the hives, and as the First let the Hive Singer wrap him in her songs, the he gave thanks to the endless waters that the People were adopted as allies by such powerful singers.
-7-
Mutter exited a traveler into one of the Money Maker’s bays. The fighter-bay modules were refitted and, without the need for fuel tanks and missile silos, the freighter could hold the same number of fighters despite the slightly longer length of a traveler over a Dagger. Mutter made her way to the bridge, the passages seemingly so familiar despite the fact that this was the first time she physically tread them.
“Greetings, Captain Durak,” Mutter said on gaining the bridge.
“Ah, Mutter, I am grateful that you are making this journey with me,” Ahmed said, hugging the two-century-old SADE. “I was concerned I alone would be responsible for the safety of the president’s home world.”
The sensation of being hugged was new to Mutter. Despite the years inhabiting her avatar, it was her first embrace, which was a testament to the private life she led. Physically, her synth-skin recorded the hug’s pressure points, the heat of the captain’s skin, and the scent of his body’s musk. The entire act was carefully stored. What was new was the formation of algorithms that assigned a high priority to the sensation. These algorithms were prepared to do the same for other pleasurable human events. It gave her pause to consider that her music and the Swei Swee might not be so all encompassing in her future. Mutter noticed Ahmed’s momentary embarrassment at hugging her, a SADE. It was also his first.
“I believe, Captain, you need not be concerned for the safety of New Terra. Many factors, which have an extremely low probability of generation, would need to come together in order to create dangerous circumstances for New Terra and imperil us.”
* * *
It was time for final steps, and Alex touched base with Captain José Cordova. Years ago, the elderly gentleman retired as captain of the Freedom, a taxing position for a man of his advanced age, and accepted the more sedate captaincy of a passenger liner, the Rêveur.
“Captain Cordova, if you would prefer to forgo the trip to Méridien and select a replacement, I would find no dishonor in that,” Alex said.
“Ser President,” the captain replied. “While the days of my spry youth are far behind me, one can still yearn for an adventure. I would not miss this trip for all the credits in the Confederation.”
Alex spent the final day, hurrying to complete his preparations, including meeting with several key people, such as Tomas, who as Assembly speaker would manage their nascent government in Alex’s absence.
There was one slight hiccup created by Z.
Alex could imagine the assorted collection of avatars Z was loading. He wouldn’t put it past the SADE to disguise himself as a food dispenser and be handed to the Earthers as a gift.
* * *
On the morning of liftoff, Alex, Renée, and Christie hugged and kissed Teague and left him in the capable hands of his grandparents. They then left in the family’s personal transport to collect Julien, whose home was adjacent to Alex’s property.
Alex landed the transport on the pad beside the home, its simple tiered lines beautifully complementing the cliff and horizon behind it.
Inside, Julien searched for the words to say to Cordelia, discarding volumes of vid and novel passages in mere ticks of time. For all his seemingly omniscient knowledge, Julien was the shy one of the pair, where it concerned demonstrative affection. Cordelia, on the other hand, wasn’t shy at all, having spent time with Renée discovering the intricacies of human affection. She hugged Julien, whispering in his ear, “Sometimes words are inadequate and unnecessary.” She connected to him and transferred to him a collection of short vids and images from her memory of some of their favorite moments together.
In the flyer, Christie remarked, “It’s such a shame about Julien … his modesty, I mean.”
“Nonsense, Christie,” Renée replied. “As with any male, you must be patient. In the capable hands of Cordelia, who is patterned after a true Méridien woman, it is only a matter of time. The shy ones are quite trainable.”
* * *
The Rêveur led the Last Stand out of Hellébore’s system. Both ships attained the maximum Méridien sub-light velocity of 0.71c. Try as the SADES might, they couldn’t find a way to engineer both grav-drive capability and FTL engines into the massive carrier’s design. The impediments turned out to be staggering. First, the FTL engines would have required an exit through the shell, impeding the buildup of energy for the grav drive. Second, the shell would have innumerable hatches for crew and fighters, the latter group of which would need opening at the most inopportune times. Finally, the challenge of bringing the Swei Swee and the shell materials to the frame was insurmountable, because the carrier was constructed at an orbital station and was being assembled in vacuum.
The 1,100-meter length of the Last Stand dwarfed the passenger liner. Tatia stood on the Rêveur’s bridge admiring the carrier on the central vid screen. Ever the ground trooper, who long ago converted to spacer, she could always appreciate a fine offensive tool.
Julien stood beside Alex and allowed the controller to announce the impending FTL exit point for the crew. It wasn’t his responsibility to drive the liner, any more than it was Alex’s responsibility to captain the ship.
-8-
In the early morning hours aboard the UE explorer ship, Reunion, Zhang Shin slipped out of Major Barbas’s bed, intent on returning quietly to her quarters without attracting unwanted attention. It wasn’t that her liaison with Barbas wasn’t common knowledge. Shin just hated the leers and smirks of the crew as they eyed every inch of her body while she navigated the Reunion’s corridors at this hour of the morning.
Shin dressed quickly, while the major slept on, her thoughts jumbled. The major preferred enthusiasm in bed to the point of roughness. It wasn’t her preference, but it was his, and in the UE a powerful protector was one means of securing promotion.
As Shin slipped out of the cabin’s door, Kyros Barbas opened his eyes, his smile wide. He derived pleasure from urging Zhang Shin to perform so admirably in a manner she clearly found distasteful. The harder she worked to please him, the more intense his satisfaction.
Administrator positions, such as that held by Olawale Wombo, were won through experience and proven success. They were highly sought after as skilled, educated, and credentialed personnel. On the other hand, assistant administrators, such as Shin, were political appointees. They were there to keep an eye on the administrators.
One evening on Earth, Major Barbas met Zhang Shin at a party hosted by Speaker García, and the petite Asian woman wasted no time informing him of her availability. Later that evening, she thoroughly and enthusiastically demonstrated her intentions. The following morning, Barbas submitted her name to Speaker García for the assistant’s position aboard the Reunion and was rewarded with her appointment.
Barbas rose and showered thoroughly, ignoring the timer’s beeping, which signaled his water allotment was up. Any other crew member would have lost water pressure at the end of the ten-second warning, but the major was privileged. His obsession for cleanliness required he constantly ignore the timer’s noise. That he was too proud to request engineering to shut off the timer was just another indication of the odd mix of personality traits that made up the man.
Major Barbas was singularly disappointed with the colonial world. While Méridien was incredibly robust, it appeared to be inordinately passive. On the ship’s exit from FTL, Barbas prepared for the worst, readying the squadron commander and the militia for a retaliatory strike if the world offered resistance. When none was forthcoming, he expected belligerence and outrage at the Reunion’s free roaming of the Méridien system. When even that failed to produce a response, Barbas became disgusted at the people’s passiveness. You aren’t even human anymore, he thought angrily. You’ve never faced a single challenge to your precious world.
Barbas left the head and stripped the bed, throwing the soiled linen on the deck. He sat at his desk, a towel around his waist, sipping a glass of water. Shin reported nothing new. Administrator Wombo and his team of scientists were reporting their observations and analysis thoroughly and accurately. It wasn’t that Barbas suspected Wombo of subversion; it was just the manner in which the UE dealt with these things.
* * *
Later that morning, Major Barbas took two cups of hot caf to the bridge to share with Speaker García.
“Did you have a pleasurable and informative evening, Major?” García asked, sipping his drink, a synthetic derivative intended to imitate coffee.
“Quite pleasurable, Speaker,” Barbas replied with a leer, “however, not very informative. According to our little ear, the administrator and his team have been faithful.”
“Hmm … can we still trust our ear?” García asked.
“To be sure, Speaker,” Barbas replied. “She has burning ambitions. I believe she would sell out her entire residence block to foster her advancement.”
“Strong motivation is good,” García replied, sipping thoughtfully on his caf. “What is the squadron commander’s opinion on these odd ships … the small ones that look like gourd seeds?”
“An unusual shuttle that is relegated to in-system transport, Speaker,” Kyros replied. “He’s impressed by their top velocity of .09c, despite the absence of identifiable engines.”
“Yes, a most impressive technology,” García replied, “but that’s not what intrigues me. This unique technology is exhibited by no other ships in this system. My question is this: Why not?”
“It could be that the technology is not feasible for larger ships, freighters, liners, and such, or the discrepancy could suggest that these shuttles, if that’s what they are, were obtained from another world that chooses not to share the technology,” Barbas replied.
“Now add that last thought of yours to Wombo’s analysis of the guide’s telemetry, detailing the number of ships entering and exiting the sy
stem through FTL. These facts suggest to me that we are in a unique position. I believe we’ve discovered a collection of worlds, and one of them has this unique drive technology,” García replied.
“If the other worlds are anything like this one, it will be easy to subsume them into the UE,” Barbas gloated.
“Major,” García said coldly, “leave the strategy to those best suited to devise it.”
“Apologies, Speaker García,” Barbas said humbly.
“Just because this particular world has not replied with strength, doesn’t mean it can’t. The people here might very well be confident in their superiority, seeing us as annoying insects buzzing around them,” García explained. “The prudent take small careful steps until the way is known.”
“What if we were to just choose a spot on this populated world and land a shuttle full of militia?” Barbas asked.
“Your impatience does you a disservice, Major. Cease and desist. You are beginning to annoy me,” García replied, turning to eye Major Barbas with cold, gray eyes. “We have no concept of this government. We don’t know who is in charge and have been left to speak to a single woman, who may or may not be a principal player. And without our guide accompanying us, how would we understand them? All communications would have to be routed from planet to ship and back for every utterance. It’s not as if we could depend on them to translate. And as I explained, just because they haven’t shown any force doesn’t mean they aren’t capable of it. How would you like to see your shuttle full of militia turned into vapor for entering their atmosphere without permission?”
“Then may I ask, Speaker, if there is a plan?” Major Barbas inquired, his anger simmering just below the surface.
“Yes, Major, you may ask,” García replied. “We wait. We wait and look for an opening. I expect someone will eventually come knocking on our hatch.”
