by S. H. Jucha
“Apologies, Captain Harbour. I’m foolishly repeating others. May we return to civility?”
“I can’t give you any details, Henry, about what I know without divulging confidences. However, since you’ve read the Belle’s documents, ask yourself who stands to lose the most if the colony ship’s original directives were implemented.”
“Probably everyone who holds a position of power … the governor, the family heads, the commandant, security officers, and the Review Board members. Come to think of it, the Captain’s Articles would need to be rewritten. That would leave you in charge, Harbour.”
Harbour heard Henry’s chuckle, when she failed to respond to his comments.
“I take it that you hadn’t thought that far ahead, Harbour. If Pyreans were to embrace these directives, you would assume the responsibilities for the processes that would lead to the election of our representatives, president, and judges. These elected officials would choose whether to keep the existing security structure or revamp it. They would also be responsible for rewriting the Captain’s Articles and requiring the present captains to sign the articles or risk losing access to our stations.”
Harbour felt as if she had been slapped upside the head. Her stomach churned at the extent of the upheaval that Henry was suggesting.
“You don’t think it’s too late to delete these files, do you, Henry?” Harbour asked in a quiet voice.
“I’m sure that Emerson and Lise would agree to that suggestion,” Henry replied. He meant to make it a jest, but his voice sounded rather sad.
“But you wouldn’t agree to it, would you, Henry?”
“I’m sorry, Harbour. You don’t command a ship for more than thirty years without realizing that shouldering responsibility has become ingrained in your nature. I can’t forget that I’ve seen these documents, Harbour, and personally, I think they need to be implemented.”
“Shouldn’t there be some sort of vote by Pyreans to approve of whether we adopt these measures?” Harbour asked.
“A referendum. Most assuredly, Harbour.”
“How do you envision this happening?” Harbour asked, hoping for answers to her concerns. Instead, she heard Henry’s laughter. It was so long and hard that he started to choke. She heard the clink of a glass and his subsequent swallows.
“Apologies, Harbour,” Henry finally said, clearing his throat repeatedly. “To answer your question, I’ve no idea how to proceed to move Pyre from our present societal organization to this one intended by Earth. But, I wish you the best of luck, and I’ll support whatever you propose.”
* * * *
Harbour was so rattled by the implications of her conversation with Henry Stamerson that she sought to talk to the one person who might make sense of it all.
The Spryte’s second mate received Harbour’s call. “Good evening, Captain Harbour, Nate Mikado here.”
“Nate, I’d like to talk to Captain Cinders, if he’s awake. If not, don’t bother him,” Harbour replied.
“He’s available, Captain. One moment,” Nate replied.
Nate muted the bridge comm, picked up his personal comm unit, and called Jessie.
“Yes, Nate,” Jessie replied groggily.
“Captain Harbour on the line for you, Captain. Orders were to contact you anytime she called.”
“Switch it through to me, Nate,” Jessie said, sitting up in bed.
“And, please, Captain, she didn’t want to disturb you, if you were asleep, and I might have intimated that you were available.”
“Understood, Nate, give me thirty seconds before you connect me,” Jessie replied. He unstrapped his bunk’s webbing, slipped on deck shoes, and climbed into a pair of skins, triggering the tiny mechanisms that closed at the back and the extremities. By the time Jessie’s comm lit with the transferred call, he was alert.
Harbour spent a good hour talking to Jessie, detailing her conversation with Henry and discussing her concerns.
“Would you sign new articles, Jessie?” Harbour asked at one point.
“If they were fair, yes, I would, Harbour. It would be a small price to pay if it meant removing the likes of the commandant, governor, and family heads from power.”
“When I was reviewing many of the documents in the Belle’s library, I discovered the list of colony ships that had preceded our launch,” Harbour said. “According to the logs of this ship’s first captain, the Honora Belle might have been the last colony ship launched. Conditions on Earth were in great decline. Did you ever wonder what happened to the other colony ships?”
Jessie was taken aback by the question. He had never considered the fates of the other colony ships, and it amazed him that Harbour had. One thought did occur to him. “I hope the other ships fared better than us. We didn’t make our original destination. Instead, our fortune delivered us to Pyre, of all places!”
“According to the Belle’s navigation files, our course was in the opposite direction to the trajectories taken by the first two North American Confederation colony ships,” Harbour explained.
“Which means that those ships targeted stars far across the galaxy from our present location,” Jessie replied.
“So, talk to me about supplies, Jessie. My head hurts from this discussion,” Harbour said.
“Ituau received Dingles’ list. Quite the number of items, I might add,” Jessie replied. At the moment, he was imagining sitting across the table from Harbour, having dinner and making small talk. It was a pleasant image.
“I apologize for the file Dingles sent her,” Harbour replied, chuckling over her recall of its length. “Without being able to step aboard the JOS, there were personal items that my people were requesting.”
Jessie laughed with Harbour. “There were so many of those items that I was forced to divide them among the crew and send them out shopping. I’ve had male crew members buying feminine products probably for the first time in their lives.”
Their banter over the next quarter hour did a great deal to ease Harbour’s anxieties. When she closed her comm unit, she entertained thoughts of casual moments in Jessie’s company. Those musings accompanied Harbour into her dreams.
-5-
Q-Gates
The Jatouche tech, Kractik, began her console shift at the Q-gates. She was assigned the position of relief console operator to back up one of the four operators, if needed. It was late in the evening and traffic had slowed at two of the gates. Boredom quickly set in for Kractik, while she stood around, as the operators handled the flow in and out through the other active gates.
To busy herself, Kractik picked up, one by one, the small devices resting on a translucent canopy covering. She ran through each device’s test procedures to ensure they were ready for use. When her hand lifted the third piece of equipment, she froze. Barely visible through the milky canopy was the glow of a power light.
Immediately, Kractik called her supervisor, Kiprick, who hurried from below onto the dome’s floor. Kractik had removed the remaining tools, and she pointed to the dim light below the canopy. Kiprick slipped the locks of the canopy, which covered the operations portion of the console for Q-gate number two.
The console was signaling that the other end of gate two at Gasnar was operational. Without hesitation, Kiprick called the dome commander and informed him of the emergency. Soldiers spilled out from the level below and surrounded the platform of gate two. They stood at the ready, beam weapons trained on the stage. Kiprick was confident the console’s warning of incoming Gasnarians would allow him the necessary time to alert the soldiers to the impending invasion.
Travelers, queuing to return to their worlds and those incoming, looked on in alarm at the soldiers surrounding the gate, which had been inoperable for as long as memories served. Of the six Q-gates operated by the Jatouche, four were in constant use. One was constantly guarded against more incursions by the Colony, even though the last attack was more than twenty annuals ago. This gate, number two, had been inoperative for more than four hundr
ed annuals.
Kiprick hurried below and placed a call to the dome’s senior administrator, who, at present, was on the Jatouche home world, Na-Tikkook.
“Pull the data from the console, Kiprick,” Jaktook ordered, after listening to what Kractik had discovered. “We must know how long the other end of the gate has been operational.”
“At once,” Kiprick replied. He placed the administrator’s call on hold and used the dome’s comm system to connect to the relief console tech.
“Query the console, Kractik,” Kiprick said urgently. “When did it first record the far gate was operational?”
Kractik bent over the console and touched panels, tapping in the request. “Point seven three four annuals,” Kractik replied in awe.
“How can that be?” Kiprick questioned.
“One moment,” Kractik replied. She ran her query again. “Confirmed, Supervisor. Approximately four-fifths of an annual.”
“Thank you, Kractik,” said Kiprick. He relayed the information to the dome commander, who, after due consideration, retired two-thirds of his force, leaving the same number of soldiers guarding gate two as guarded gate five, which led to the world of the Colony.
Kiprick picked up the call to the dome’s administrator and repeated what he’d learned.
“You’re sure?” Jaktook asked.
“Kractik is an eminently qualified tech,” Kiprick replied. “She ran the query twice, and I’ve no doubt she varied her input to ensure the console understood her request. As we know, the Messinants designed the consoles to be intuitive of our needs. I believe we can trust the response that Kractik received.”
“Understood, Kiprick. Update me if anything changes. It goes without saying that the canopy cover over gate two’s portion of the console should be left off and an operator assigned to the station.”
“Kractik is due for promotion. I would suggest that she receive the operator assignment to monitor the gate,” Kiprick replied.
“She’s young,” Jaktook objected.
“She’s qualified, and she’s diligent. Without her efforts, the Gasnarians might have flooded through the gate and caught us by surprise,” Kiprick replied.
“I leave the decision to you, Kiprick. Be careful. This news will unsettle His Excellency and his advisors, and they’ll want extensive precautions.”
“Understood, Jaktook,” Kiprick said and shut down his call. He understood Jaktook’s reservations. Kractik was his daughter. Despite that, she worked harder than most to demonstrate that favoritism wasn’t applicable to her, and he felt he had held her back long enough. He looked forward to promoting her, only wishing it was under more favorable circumstances.
Planetside, Jaktook placed a call to the royal residence, regretting the late hour. He would be disturbing senior individuals, who would be forced to leave the comfort of their pallets and the warmth of their mates.
“His Excellency is asleep,” Jaktook was told.
“And Q-gate number two is active,” Jaktook replied. There was silence on the other end. Then he heard, “I’ll wake His Excellency and assemble the advisors. I presume you’ll be in attendance, dome administrator.”
“I can be at the royal residence within the hour,” Jaktook replied.
* * * *
Jaktook called for a vehicle. The transport organizer tracked Jaktook’s movements and had the car arrive at his domicile, as he exited the extensive complex. It whisked him away, and Jaktook took the opportunity to organize his thoughts. Rarely did an administrator hold an emergency session with His Excellency and senior advisors.
At the royal residence, security admitted Jaktook, allowing the vehicle to drop him off underground, where he was checked a second time by personnel. Finally, security escorted him to the royal chambers, which was located on the uppermost floors of the building.
Jaktook stood in an antechamber, waiting to be announced. It was a while before the ornate doors, carved in vine patterns, slid aside and a senior security person motioned him inside. Jaktook crossed the room toward the seated individuals, while trying to prevent staring at the sumptuous furnishings. He’d never been in the royal residence, much less His Excellency’s private chambers.
“Ah, Dome Administrator Jaktook,” Tacticnok said, rising to welcome Jaktook.
The poor administrator was caught in the middle of what he hoped was a graceful bow to His Excellency Rictook, as he hastily straightened to accept the greeting of the royal family’s daughter. Jaktook returned the greeting and took the seat that was offered him.
“Jaktook, let me introduce His Excellency’s advisors,” Tacticnok said. “To your left is Master Economist Pickcit. To your right is Master Scientist Tiknock, and beside me is Master Strategist Roknick. Now that we’re acquainted, please tell us the details of your discovery.”
Jaktook related step-by-step the events that had taken place at the dome, as related to him by Kiprick.
“What is your confidence in the accuracy of what you’ve told us?” Tacticnok asked. It was a testament to the daughter’s importance to His Excellency and the Jatouche that she was conducting the meeting. Not only was she the heir apparent, but she was His Excellency’s most trusted advisor. His Excellency hadn’t spoken, and it was accepted by Jaktook that Rictook probably wouldn’t address him.
“Kiprick is a most competent supervisor, Your Highness. It was his daughter, a relief console tech, who discovered the Gasnar gate was active.”
“And you say that the console has recorded the Gasnar gate as having been active for the past four-fifths of an annual?” Master Scientist Tiknock asked.
“Yes, Master Tiknock,” Jaktook replied.
“Incredible that the console operators didn’t observe the change, during all that time,” Master Strategist Roknick grumped.
“I would have thought the reason for that was obvious, Master Roknick,” Tacticnok replied. “If I’m correct, the console operator group is entirely male.”
“I fail to understand your reasoning, Your Highness,” Roknick replied.
“It’s simple, Master Roknick,” Tacticnok replied. “The tech who discovered the lit panel, which was buried under a canopy and a pile of equipment, was female. Obviously, females are more diligent and detailed in these types of duties. As we’ve discussed, the His Highness is well aware of the potential of our female population even if others are slow to realize their capabilities.”
Roknick bit back his reply. This was an old argument that he’d fought many times with His Highness and the royal daughters, especially Tacticnok. To his and other Jatouche senior personnel’s frustration, not a single male had been born to the royal couple. Instead, they had four females, and the three younger females were as determined as Tacticnok to break with traditions that seniors believed had served the Jatouche well for millenniums. To make matters worse, His Excellency Rictook wholly supported his daughter’s efforts.
“My question is this: Could the Messinants have returned?” Roknick asked. As the strategist, who guided the military commanders, he was anxious to understand if the gate might have been repaired by the ancient race.
“Has anyone heard from any civilization that a Messinant has been seen in recent memory? They’ve been gone for eons,” Pickcit, the economist, objected.
“I’m wondering why the gate has become operational now,” Tiknock, the scientist, pondered. “The fight at Gasnar was more than four hundred annuals ago. Could the Gasnarians have recovered?”
“That seems unlikely,” Roknick replied. This was the type of conjecture that made him nervous. “The last reports from our soldiers indicated the Gasnarian planet was engulfed in upheavals from the force of our energy weapon.”
“I’m familiar with those historical reports,” Tiknock said testily. “They also indicated that there were Gasnar ships around the moon, ships capable of preserving life.”
“But for the hundreds of years it would take the planet’s atmosphere to clear?” Pickcit asked.
“Impo
ssible for them to survive, I say,” Roknick declared.
“It was sad that our relations with the Gasnarians came to such a violent conclusion,” Pickcit lamented. He saw the loss of economic opportunity to both worlds.
“We didn’t start the fight,” Roknick said, his tone hardening.
“Advisors,” Tacticnok said calmly, and the seniors quieted. She waited until she had their attention before she continued. “We’re not here to argue the past or what our ancestors might have done differently. We’re here to discuss what the activation of gate two’s far point means to the Jatouche. Then we’re to come to some conclusion and suggest actions for His Excellency to consider.”
Tacticnok received apologies from the advisors. She glanced briefly at the dome administrator. Most individuals, who were in His Excellency’s presence for the first time, were usually frozen in posture, with eyes downcast. In contrast, Jaktook was intent on the advisors’ words, and, rather than observing passively, his face reflected the approving and disapproving thoughts flickering through his mind.
“So, the question stands: Who could have reactivated the gate?” Tacticnok asked. “Trusted advisors, you’ve reviewed the historical documentation many times, I’m sure. What were the final conditions at Gasnar? Exactly how was the gate shut down?”
There was a shuffling of feet, crossing and uncrossing. Tacticnok noticed that the frown on Jaktook’s face reflected her own.
“The records are vague on that point,” the master strategist admitted. “There was only the single gate at Gasnar, which meant the console was to be the focus of the attack, while our soldiers deployed an energy weapon against the planet. The fight was protracted. Several teams were sent before they managed to complete the weapon’s set up and fire it. The last team to enter the Q-gate from this side carried an assortment of tools and weapons. None of those individuals returned, which leaves us guessing as to how they accomplished their task.”
“At that time, scientists postulated that if the Gasnarian Q-gate were demolished, it would have been a cataclysmic event,” Tiknock said. “More than likely the energy would have surged along the quantum connection, resulting in the destruction of our gate and hence the dome. They calculated that the detonation would have destroyed a good portion of our planet’s satellite, Your Highness.”
