Militia Up

by J. L. Curtis

  Fargo sighed, “Yes, at least three that I know of. And they are matriarchal, from what I’ve seen. Please come up and let me introduce you to them.

  They both smiled and slowly stepped forward. He got up and walked off the porch, meeting them at the bottom of the steps. “Canis, come.” Canis came down and sat beside him, “This is Canis, she’s a… I guess the term would be wolf. Canis, friends.” He shook hands with Moby, then Dineah, and both offered their hands for Canis to sniff.

  “Cattus, come.” Cattus yawned, showing a mouthful of teeth, but came down the steps and the exercise was repeated, followed by Urso. He escorted them into the cabin, and asked, “Would you like something to drink? I can offer whatever we can get out of the autochef, or I have fresh water.”

  He felt that push again, and Dineah smiled as Moby said, “Fresh water, please. I get so tired of processed water.”

  Dineah asked, “Coffee?”

  Fargo smiled. “Would you like real coffee? Handmade, real coffee?”

  Dineah squealed, “Oh! You have… Oh yes, please! I haven’t had real coffee in so long!”

  Fargo noticed they were both wearing backpacks, “You can drop them by the door. The animals will not bother them.” They both eased out of the packs, and he noted they were very solidly built, and very flexible, as they set the packs by the door. He set about making a pot of coffee, after delivering a large glass of water to Moby, and motioned them to the couch, “Have a seat, this will take a couple of minutes.”

  “Captain?”

  “Yes?”

  He felt them probing the animals, “You realize the animals are bonded and linked to you?”

  “Yes, I know. But I can only perceive basic emotions. I am closest to Canis, because I felt her in her mother’s womb.”

  Moby and Dineah exchanged looks, and he felt Dineah’s mind for the first time, it was slightly softer if that could describe it. “In her mother’s womb? How?”

  “When her mother was hurt by a Silverback, I put my hand on her to calm her with my empathic sense, and… I felt, that’s the best word I can come up with, Canis. Maybe she was closest to my hand. I don’t know.”

  Moby and Dineah talked softly in a sibilant language that left Fargo wondering what they were saying, and he dropped out of the psi link, reaching down to stroke Canis.

  Moby said, “My apologies. Some things we need to talk out.”

  “Not an issue, but I have to ask, what were you speaking?”

  Dineah laughed softly, “Apache. It’s a version of Athabaskan, which is a group of Native American languages. Similar to Navajo.”

  “Are you both Apache? But your names? And that brings up another question, Darkies?”

  “Yes, Mescalero Apache. We are known as Darkies because the first troops we interacted with had problems with Anadarko on the radio. Too many syllables, and too close to one of their brevity codes.” Dineah laughed, then glanced at Moby, then continued, “Our true names are secret, known only to our tribe. When we bonded, we became MobyDineah. That is what we are known as. But we were actually talking about totems.”

  “Totems?”

  Moby said, “Totems are the spirit animals we adopt after our vision quests. My totem is a dolphin, and hers is a whale.”

  The coffee pot burped its last, and Fargo took two cups down, “Anything in your coffee?”

  “Just coffee, please.”

  He poured two cups, took one to Dineah, and sat slowly in his chair. “Dolphin and whale? I thought Indians had things like wolves, eagles, and such.”

  Moby laughed. “Oh we do. But many others too. We only have one apiece, but you seem to have three.”

  Fargo shrugged. “For what good it does me.”

  Dineah projected, “Have you tried working with them like this?”

  “No, I didn’t think it was possible. I tried, but I never did get any responses.”

  “We sensed them, but at a much lower… Frequency, if you will. And they communicate over long distances.”

  “Like you did from the bottom of the landing strip?”

  Dineah smiled. “It does have its advantages.” She reached for Moby’s hand and grasped it, “We can communicate about a mile.”

  “Lower, you said.”

  Moby projected, “Down here.” Canis and Cattus both sat up, as Urso growled softly.

  Fargo had heard Moby, but it was fuzzy, so he consciously tried to send a thought to Canis much lower than before, “Canis, come.”

  Canis cocked her head, and padded over to him, then lay her head on his leg. He felt a response from her, but it didn’t make any sense. It was mélange of sensations and ‘smells’, more than anything else.

  Fargo said, “I got something, but it was like senses, sensations, smells, something… It’s hard to describe.”

  Moby replied, “They don’t think like we do. At least our animals on Anadarko don’t. Sensations are about all we get. And only the ones we bond with. I’ve never encountered what you have here, with cross species communication.”

  “That’s because this planet was planned as a hunting preserve by SierraSafari. I think they genied some of the species on purpose. I haven’t felt any others, well, other than Silverbacks.”

  Cattus interrupted their conversation when she padded over to Dineah, then flopped down in front of her, paws in the air. Dineah laughed and projected, “Belly rub?”

  Cattus reached up with both paws, tugging Dineah’s hand gently down, and Dineah projected, “Belly rub.” She started stroking Cattus softly, and Cattus started a rumbling purr, closing her eyes in ecstasy.

  Urso moaned from the door, and Fargo got up with a smile, “I know what she wants.” He went into the kitchen and pulled down a sealed canister, spooning out some of the honey from the bee tree. He tried to project “Sweet, good, like,” to Urso, and she sat up on her hind legs. He sensed desire from her, but he wasn’t sure if that was because she already smelled the honey, or his projection.

  He held the dish out and Urso took it delicately, then rolled on her back, slurping nosily, as everyone laughed.

  Canis whined and went out the door, jumping over Urso and Moby projected, “Did you catch that? I think something called her.”

  Fargo shook his head. “No, I didn’t really…” He stepped out onto the porch, along with MobyDineah, and Cattus followed. “Well damn. She did get called. That’s her mother,” pointing a hundred yards out, to Canis and an even bigger wolf standing nose to nose.

  Fargo turned to them, “That makes me wonder, how did you project a thought all the way up here to me? That’s… almost a thousand yards from the bottom of the landing strip.”

  Moby projected, “We just pushed the thought a little harder. At least that’s what we call it. Depending on your strength and level of talent, some can project further than others. Just like some have to physically touch someone, like most level ones. As the level increases, the ability to communicate over distance increases in most cases.”

  Fargo held up a hand, “This may be interesting.” Pointing to the wolves, who were trotting side by side toward the house, “I don’t know what is going to happen. I’ve never seen her do that before when anyone else is here.”

  Dineah projected, “She’s curious about us. And I think her… cub shared our scent. I think we should sit.”

  Fargo glanced at her, shrugged and pulled three chairs over. “Okay, sit it is.” They all sat down as the two wolves came up on the porch. The matriarch came to him first, licked his hand, he felt a ‘tickle’ in his mind, as if she was trying to communicate with him. She cocked her head as if to say, “Well, are you going to answer me?”

  Fargo tried to go as far down in what he thought of as frequency as he could and projected welcome and peace. The matriarch wagged her tail a couple of times, then stalked over to Dineah, sniffed her hand, then put her paws on her leg and sniffed her face and neck. Dineah smiled without showing any teeth, and didn’t move as the wolf licked the side of her face, th
en giggled, “That tickles.”

  Fargo picked up Dineah sending something like friendship and honor. The wolf licked her again, then repeated the process with Moby, who also projected the same thing. The matriarch then stalked over to Cattus, who rolled over and showed her belly in subservience. After sniffing her, the matriarch went to Urso, who did the same thing.

  She finally came back to Fargo, licked his hand again and he sensed approval from her. She bounded off the porch and trotted into the woods as the three humans looked at each other. Dineah projected, “Well, that was interesting. It was almost like she was verifying what Canis had told her, for lack of a better term. And she was definitely checking to see if we could communicate with her.”

  Moby nodded. “I think so. And her checking Cattus and Urso was… different. Then she projected approval at you.”

  “Based on what I’ve seen over the last couple of years, I think she was checking up on Cattus and Urso, and is going to tell their mothers they are doing okay. I know the three species communicate at some level, and I wouldn’t be surprised if your scents aren’t also passed along.”

  Dineah shivered a little, “This is truly strange. In all the years we’ve been scouting, I’ve never seen or heard of anything like this. I can’t help but wonder if they are actually sentient, within the GalPat rules.”

  Fargo winced. “Ah deity. That would be a can of worms I don’t even want to think about. But I don’t think so, at least not under the sentience rules we had with GalScouts. I haven’t seen any tool use, or any of them building anything. Which is a requirement.”

  Moby added, “You’re right. Communication, in and of itself, is not enough.”

  “Speaking of communication, would you be willing to help me?”

  MobyDineah nodded in concert, “If we can.”

  Learning Curve

  After a quick lunch from the autochef, and another coffee for Dineah and himself, Fargo leaned forward, “Um, I have a confession to make, and I could use some help.”

  Moby and Dineah glanced at each other, and he could sense they were talking, but he couldn’t pick anything up. Moby looked at him and asked, “Is this about your psi talent?”

  Fargo projected, “It is… But”

  Moby interrupted, “Talk please.”

  “Uh, yes. I’ve never had any training… and I don’t want anyone to know I have it.”

  Dineah sat bolt upright, “What?” Canis and Cattus bolted up, and they heard Urso moaning from outside the cabin, “Oh, sorry…” Fargo felt her projecting calm and the animals calmed down, with Cattus climbing on the couch and rolling over for a belly scratch. She continued, “You were never trained? But you’re a strong psi, maybe as strong as we are.”

  “Let me explain. I was originally a level five empath. We, my team and I were on a scout mission, I was a GalScout team lead and we were attacked. It came down to two of us left, myself and my comms/intel guy, who was also a level five psi. We were linked when he died… and something broke in my head. I don’t know any other way to describe it.”

  He saw both of them wince at that, and Canis laid her head in his lap, trying to comfort him. “I woke up in the med comp, and thought I was crazy. I was hearing things in my mind…”

  Moby asked, “Hearing things?”

  “Like they were discussing my treatment. But I was hearing their thoughts, I guess is the best way to put it.”

  “Did the doctor note it?”

  “No, I never told him until later. And it was never documented. I was medically retired from the GalScouts due to the fact that I can no longer go into cryo or stasis.” Fargo decided not to tell them about the current tasking, no need for them to know that, or about OneSvel and what he really is, either.

  Moby and Dineah looked at each other again, and once more he sensed them talking. Finally Dineah asked, “So you have never had any training? No one ever tried to help you and you never asked for help?”

  Fargo shook his head. “No. What I know I got off the net and from practical experiences, mostly bad.”

  “Do you have to be close to someone or do you have to have physical contact?”

  He blushed, thinking about Nicole, “Uh, physical contact makes it stronger, but I can sense people from a distance. I don’t know how far, as… Well, on Endine, I felt the anger and her thoughts about killing Mikhail from that woman at probably thirty feet, maybe more.”

  “What about in a crowded environment?”

  “It’s like the Tower of Babel. Some beings are strong, some are weak, but a lot…I kinda build a wall when that happens so I don’t hear them. But I have to work at keeping that up. But when I do that, I lose my empath sense too.”

  Dineah asked shyly, “Could I maybe have another cup of coffee, please?

  Fargo moved Canis off his lap, “Damn, dog. How did you weasel your way into my lap? Down!” Canis grumbled as she slid off his lap and sat cocking her head at him. He got up and picked up his cup, grabbed Dineah’s and walked slowly into the kitchen. As he fussed with fixing another pot of coffee, he sensed them talking again, and he shook his head in frustration. They can block me easily… so frustrating. Why wasn’t I taught anything? Maybe the colonel didn’t want anybody to know… or did he even know? I need to talk to OneSvel!

  He carried the two coffees and a water back into the living room, handing the coffee to Dineah and the water to Moby. He sat down and Moby said, “We will do what we can to help you. We cannot hope to give you the benefit of our lifetimes of training, but we can try to give you the basics to keep you safe and sane.”

  “Safe and sane would be good.”

  Dineah projected, “First is how to keep others out of your head. Block me if you ca…”

  Fargo threw up his wall, and Dineah smiled. “Very good. But did you hear Moby? Or did you notice the animal’s reactions?”

  Fargo projected, “You told me to block you.”

  “I meant for you to only block me.”

  “How? I mean… I only know how to block everything. How can you block just one?”

  Moby asked, “How do you visualize your wall?”

  “Uh, a wall.”

  “No, what kind of wall? Light? Plasteel? What? Project it please.”

  Fargo thought for a minute, then projected, “Like this? A block wall. Stone.”

  “Something you’ve seen before?”

  “A castle wall in Euro.”

  “Euro?”

  “Earth. Euro, ancient Germany.”

  “Ah. So nothing in or out, right?”

  “No, when I put up the block, even my empathic senses go away. I didn’t see what Canis and Cattus did, either.”

  Moby sighed, “Put up your block again and watch them.”

  He put his wall up again, watching both animals. They both reacted, snapping around to look at him, and Canis put a paw on his leg, almost like she was looking for a physical connection. Cattus snarled silently, tail twitching. When he dropped his wall, they both relaxed.

  Dineah thought, “You cut their link too, and it worried them. Remember, they are bonded to you, which means they expect to keep that link alive. Maybe this will help. Here is how I think of my wall, if you will.” She projected something that Fargo could only describe as a lace curtain.

  He imagined he could see through it, and didn’t see how that could possibly work. “How can that possibly work? It’s full of holes!”

  “Try to penetrate it then.”

  He could sense her thoughts for a second, then it was like the holes closed. But he could still sense her talking with Moby, and catch parts of the thoughts. He pressed harder, and got nowhere. Slumping back in the chair, he asked, “How did you do that? I caught a second of your mind, and I could sense you and Moby still talking, but that’s all I got.”

  Dineah smiled ruefully, “You are very strong. You should not have caught anything. I just closed the holes in your direction, shielding me from you. But I could still sense you, and yes, Moby and I were tal
king, as you think of it.”

  Moby projected, “Try this. This is the block I use.”

  Fargo got an image of a wall of plasglass with holes in it. “So I need to be able to ‘see’ through it? Like a window rather than a wall?” He felt pressure and tried to fill the holes enough to stop the penetration, while watching Cattus and Canis. He seemed to be succeeding, until Moby increased the pressure, and Fargo reverted to his wall, knocking Moby’s probe away, but also losing the connection with the animals. Urso moaned and stuck her head in the door, as if she was going to come in the house, which she hadn’t done since she was a little cub.

  Fargo shook his head in frustration, “Dammit! I can’t hold… Argghhh, now I’ve got a damn headache!”

  Moby smiled. “It takes practice. We’ve been working with you what, two divs?” It took me seven GalYears to be able to control my communications! You’re doing better than I did for a couple of years, and you’ve never had any training.”

  Dineah smiled ruefully, “Maybe we better stop for now. When I got headaches and tried to push through them, I hurt for two days.”

  “Where are my manners, would you like to eat? I didn’t realize how long we’ve been working. Can I offer you the spare bedroom? It’s clean and has its own fresher.”

  Fargo sensed them talking, and Dineah smiled. “We would gladly accept. Both offers. I would like a fresher after the hike up here, and a chance to wash my hair.”

  Moby rolled his eyes, “There goes all the hot water!” He dodged Dineah’s elbow strike and picked up his glass, “May I have another glass? This water is… unusual.”

  Fargo took the glass and smiled. “Let Dineah have the fresher, and I’ll show you.” Moby and Dineah both got up, and Dineah stuck her tongue out at Moby as they headed for the door. Cattus and Canis beat them out the door, and they promptly jumped on the sleeping Urso as Fargo lead him around the back of the cabin, pointing to the waterfall that fell 500 feet from the cliff a half mile behind the house. “The water comes from there. I have a collector up there, piping down to here,” he pointed to the top of a mostly buried plascrete tank. “And this system cleans the water, holds two thousand gallons, and provides pressure to the freshers in the house.”