by David Adams
“We have a great many things,” came the reply, “of great power, or great curiosity, or great artistic value. We value all. Some we share; some we do not. Some we deny the very existence of. You have impressed us already with your deeds, human, so tell us what it is you seek.”
“The construct known as Ben. He has taken a world in Toralii space, Belthas IV. We need your help defeating one of his technologies.”
Soft, deep laughter came over the line. “We have knowledge of the construct Ben, and we supported his efforts at a vast discount. He has been in contact with us, reporting on his success, and we are most pleased. The destruction of so many ships of the Alliance makes our hearts sing, Commander Liao. The enemies of the Alliance are our friends, and we shall celebrate their victories whenever they can be had.”
“I know the Alliance did terrible things to your people,” Liao said. “I’m not unsympathetic. I know you must be pleased that he used his device to destroy many Alliance ships. And believe me; that’s been quite a boon to us as well, but Ben won’t stop until he’s had his revenge, and I don’t think he can ever be convinced that whatever slight he’s endured has been repaid in full. Ben wants to be human; he wants to be a real boy, but there are no fairy godmothers in the real world. There’s no ending for Ben that doesn’t involve either his destruction or genocide.”
“Genocide. Such as the act the Toralii Alliance perpetuated on us? Forgive me for being heartless, Commander, but there is no sympathy left in our hearts for the butchers of our forefathers, no matter how pained their plight may be.”
She closed her eyes a moment. Then they were back to square one. Without the Iilan’s assistance, there could be no way to defeat Ben.
“May I ask… do you know of Ben’s jump technology, the device that allows him to activate it outside of jump points?”
“We are aware of it.”
The response, Liao thought, was guarded. Whereas before the Iilan seemed eager to discuss the topics Liao brought up, now they seemed hesitant, reluctant.
“Do you possess similar technology?”
Another laugh, this one fainter and more strained. “If you have come to barter for a similar device, you are wasting both our time. We possess no such technology. In fact, Ben has pledged to turn his device over to us once the campaign at Belthas IV has been completed, to be documented and studied, the information stored in our archives.”
Liao tapped her headset, thinking quickly. “No, we’re not seeking one of our own, but… Excuse me; hold on one moment.” She turned to Rowe. “Miss Rowe, what do we know about that device?”
Rowe rolled her shoulders. “Nothing. It’s basically a separate co-processor that can be patched into a standard jump drive. It works like magic; you put in the coordinates, anywhere, and it takes you there.”
“What did we learn about it when we had it? Any key piece of knowledge we could tell them?”
Rowe stared at her as though she had a spider crawling all over her face. “You… didn’t read my report?”
“No.” She blinked. “Should I have?”
“I sent it to you, like, months after the trial! It took me weeks to write, and I hate writing shit! You know I suck at that kind of stuff, but I did it!”
“Months? Summer… Summer, I wasn’t even in the service at that point. How could I have possibly read it?”
Rowe stared again, then looked away. “Well, I wrote it,” she said, her tone grumpy.
“Good. We’re now all very glad you did. How long is it?”
“Long. Real long, like, two hundred pages. It has X-rays of the jump drive, spectronomical analysis, chemical analysis, a bunch of bullshit I copied and pasted in.”
Liao nodded thoughtfully. “Sounds promising.” She touched the talk key. “Sorry for the delay. We were in possession of the jump device for an extended period of time, and we have compiled an extensive report of its contents. We were unable to reverse-engineer its technology, but this may be of interest to you.”
There was a long pause. For a time, Liao thought the Iilan had stopped responding to them, but then came the voice again.
“Prepare for docking.”
*****
The view on the monitor was an odd one.
The Iilan ship was a perfectly spherical, golden ball that floated towards their vessel silently, ominously, the colours shimmering slightly in the faint light of the Beijing’s spotlight. As they drew closer, the details on the hull became more obvious; small grooves ran over the whole device, and it seemed to be a mesh of interlocking gears, twisting and turning, constantly working.
When it drew close enough to dock, a metal tube extended from the side of the Iilan hull as though it were alive; it contorted itself, twisting around until it latched onto the Beijing’s docking port, fluid and undulating as though filled with flowing water.
Liao left Kamal in charge and moved out of Operations to the docking port, a briefcase in one hand. She met Cheung and a team of her marines on the way, forming up ceremoniously near the entrance. With a final nod to Cheung, the door was opened, and Liao stared down the long corridor.
It appeared to be full of the same light green liquid as the tank on the Giralan. The fluid seemed to be held in place by some invisible force, undulating slightly as small changes in the air pressure of the Beijing pushed the wall of liquid back and forth. Just beyond the wall, floating half way up the passage, was a black mask similar to an industrial breathing mask or a gas mask.
“Please don the mask and come aboard,” came a voice, distorted as it filtered through the liquid. “We cannot survive in your atmosphere.”
“Can I survive in that?”
“With the mask to assist breathing, you can.”
She set down her case and stepped closer, leaning forward and gingerly extending a hand. She pushed her hand into the liquid, finding a surprising lack of resistance, then retrieved the mask. The metal was surprisingly cool as though it had been sitting in ice for a time.
Pulling back what functioned as the head strap, Liao pulled the device over her head. With a faint hiss, the device molded to her skin, creating a tight seal. The cold was uncomfortable for a moment, but she soon became accustomed to it.
Liao did not want to enter that liquid, to become the image of herself submerged in the tank, but there was no other option. There was nothing else she could do since they needed the Iilan’s help and she feared offending them. With a glance behind her to Cheung, Liao picked up the briefcase and stepped past the invisible wall that separated air from fluid.
She immediately felt the effects of zero gravity, although there was, for once, a complete lack of the usual nausea that accompanied it. Instead, Liao floated in the cool liquid, feeling comfortable and suddenly at ease. With barely a slosh of her hands, she found herself gliding effortlessly through the stuff, floating towards the inside of the sphere.
The entire ship was laid out before her. There appeared to be no rooms of any kind within the sphere, completely full of the green fluid, and Liao could see hundreds—if not thousands—of figures moving around within the liquid. A metal ball in the centre of the vessel, covered in protrusions, was the only visible mechanics or hardware in the entire ship.
One of the figures drifted close to her. The creature, completely covered in dark brown feathers, had wings for arms and tiny, clawed feet. It had a large, long, hooked beak that was entirely unprotected by any kind of breathing apparatus.
“Commander Liao, I presume?” the Iilan said. It was the same voice she had heard over the radio. When it spoke, its beak clacked slightly, but its tongue was articulate and complete. Somehow, despite the large barriers between their physiology, it could speak English like a native.
“That’s correct.” Liao’s voice was muffled by the mask, but she could hear herself well. “You are Paar the Speaker, correct?”
“That is I.”
Liao felt herself slowly turning, floating upside down. She struggled to right herself to no av
ail. “I’m sorry, I’m just not used to being under water.”
The Iilan didn’t seem bothered by Liao being inverted relative to him. She assumed that, in a direction-less sphere, this would happen often. “Many are not. This particular fluid is a technology of ours; it dissolves waste matter, sweat, excretions, dead skin and dead feathers. Additionally, it is highly resistant to radiation, heat, poisons and toxins, along with inertia. Our systems are built around it and it is one of our greatest possessions.”
Liao was not entirely comfortable with the idea of swimming in dissolved excrement, but she remained diplomatic. “I’ve seen it before,” Liao said, “in the tanks on Ben’s ship. He was growing… humanoids. He was growing a clone of me.”
“I cannot discuss previous clients’ exchanges.” The Iilan inclined his head. “I am sorry, though, if the idea has caused you any distress. We use cloning technology to preserve our species, although many find it unnatural.”
Liao, somewhat uncertainly, nodded her head, finally managing to right herself. “Many among our kind would consider it unnatural, too.”
“When you are desperate to just survive, there’s no line you won’t cross, no threshold you’ll be bound to. Every member of every species says that they would hold to their principles to death, but so few of them do. The survival instinct is strong, and it keeps you going, even when there’s no hope left. When there’s nothing left but ashes in your present and a cold, empty death in your future, you keep going. Some call it hope. Some call it perseverance, but to us, it is merely the existence of day to day.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Actually,” said Paar, “I sincerely hope you forget it, that this matter never crosses your mind again, and you never feel those words apply to you or your kind. I hope you can avoid our fate and that you can be spared the loss and pain of your planet. I hope you do, sincerely and genuinely, but I fear for your planet, Earth. I hope it should never come to pass, but perhaps the loss of one's homeworld is the baptism of fire all species must endure, the toll they pay for a life amongst the stars.”
“We have put a lot of effort into defending Earth,” Liao said, “but I thank you for your concern.”
The Iilan regarded her with sad eyes. “I fear that whatever preparations you have made will be insufficient. You are a young species, fit and eager, and you display great promise. I simply pray that you are not too eager and too strong, and that you do not reach beyond your limits. The Toralii Alliance may seem to be working with you, but I assure you, they always—always—keep their own desires, and their own goals, closest to their hearts. This is their way, their nature. You cannot change it.”
Liao did not know what to say. “I will try to remember your advice.”
“Thank you.” The Iilan gave a polite nod. “To business, then?”
“Yes, to business. I have a copy of the report in my briefcase, but I’m afraid it will not survive the liquid, as it is written on a material that is severely weakened by contact with water.”
“We can generate a synthetic atmosphere later to open your case.” Paar clicked his beak. “But I know that you will be unwilling to give up the full report for nothing in exchange. So please, what is it you desire in exchange for your information?”
Liao was struck knowing this was the second time she had bartered for technology using information. Perhaps, she mused, she would have Rowe install a larger database on the Beijing to store more of Earth’s media.
“We need a way to disable Ben’s jump device, temporarily at least, so we can assault his vessel.”
“We have several ways of doing this. However, they are valuable technology, since we use them to escape Toralii Alliance ambushes.”
Liao felt an itching under her mask but fought the urge to scratch. “As a show of good faith, we are happy to let you read the full report before you make your decision.”
Paar regarded her curiously. “A very interesting show of faith, Captain, to surrender your bargaining chip with nothing in return.”
“Nalu tells us that the Iilan are reclusive, but fair. My reputation as a warbringer has spread to even your ears, Speaker Paar, but I am like you. I would trade everything I’ve done for a reputation as a fair, just leader who keeps to her word. I would prefer that over all the adulation of the Kel-Voran, of the Toralii, and of the other warlike species in the galaxy. That is not who I am.”
Paar, strangely, seemed to smile with his eyes, rather than his beak. “Very well, Captain. If that is your desire, I can assure you that we will evaluate your report and derive a conclusion. Please, you can remain here, if you wish, while we confer and evaluate the information for ourselves.”
*****
Liao floated in the strange fluid for what seemed like an hour. In a ship with no walls, the Iilan floated away with her briefcase, and Liao, out of politeness, didn’t follow him. Soon he was lost in the sea of Iilan, the closest ones giving her curious looks but saying nothing to her.
Finally the Iilan returned, floating towards her in the faintly glowing green fluid.
“We evaluated your report,” Paar said, his tone slightly hesitant and reluctant.
Not a good sign.
“I see,” Liao answered. “It contains all we know. I’m sorry if it was insufficient.”
“It was… primitive,” Paar answered, “with numerous misspellings and poor grammar, but it also contained a surprising amount of information as well.”
Damn that woman, Liao thought. She could at least have used a spell checker.
“Accordingly,” Paar said, “while the information is not of insignificant value to us, it is not, on its own, worth one of our more treasured secrets, although the speculation side of the report was informative. Whoever wrote it seemed to have a great love for the technical and an affinity for understanding things on a basic level.”
Liao felt a clenching in her chest but nodded diplomatically. “I see.”
“However, it is also the opinion of our leaders that yours is an honest species. Strong and impulsive, yes, but those feelings can be tempered out of you in time. We see much promise in you, and we see little future in our continued research here at Majev-tor. We will move on to the other singularities in a generation or two, but we wish to do some good before we do. We have decided,” he said, “to grant you the least of the technologies you can use to accomplish your goals; we will grant you one single device, with a single use, in exchange for the report, despite the significant discount this would present… on certain conditions.”
Liao released a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. “Conditions. Go on.”
“The device will be returned to us, and it will be returned unopened and unexamined. Analysis of your report has given us insight into the methods you use to study things. We will take precautions against such attempts. They will not be pleasant for you.”
Liao nodded. “We won’t peek inside Pandora’s Box.” She held up a hand to mollify Paar’s confusion. “A Human legend. I’ll throw in the story for your personal reading; don’t worry. Please, go on.”
“We want Ben’s jump drive intact, if possible, or full salvage rights if it is not. Additionally, we want any data acquired during the battle, or any other information about this technology you find.”
“Agreed. We’ll give you whatever is left, and whatever we know about the jump drive, we’ll share with you when we return your device.” She reached up and adjusted the mask slightly. “Is there anything else?”
“Not at this moment.”
The wall of the ship behind her extended out, reaching for the Beijing.
“Then you may return to your vessel. We will send through the device within an hour, along with instructions to employ it.”
*****
Liao’s Office
TFR Beijing
“They fucking call this a weapon?” Rowe upended the tiny package onto Liao’s desk. A small circular device with a button on top clattered to her desk, along w
ith a six inch square sheet of some rubbery material that bounced when it hit the wood. “I think you got robbed, Captain.”
“Well, let’s not be hasty. What is it?”
Rowe picked up the rubbery slip, holding it up to the light. “Nothing, it’s blank.”
Liao could see writing on the opposite side. “Turn it around.”
“Oh, wait, it says, ‘Please see other side.’” Rowe flipped it in her hand and began to read. “Measure the distance between your ship, currently, and the edge of Majev-tor. Be within half that distance, and push the button. All jump drives within the area will be disabled for a period of six times the time you spent aboard our vessel.” Rowe turned it over, then again. “That’s all it says.”
“Well, they seem to like their technology simple, just like the Toralii.”
Rowe made a disgusted face. “Simple? Those Iilan fuckers are serious chowderbuckets. If it doesn’t take a doctorate to operate it, I couldn’t give a fuck about it.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
The redhead’s face lit up. “Did you know the defibrillator was invented before CPR?”
“I hate you, Summer.”
Rowe leaned forward, reaching out and pinching Liao’s cheek. “I know you do, Cappy-Cap.” She smiled and withdrew her hand. “Anyway, let’s teleport across the galaxy and blow up a robot, okay?”
“Sure.” She took a breath. “Let’s go do that.”
*****
Operations
TFR Beijing
“We are ready to jump, Captain.”
Floating beside the jump console, Liao gave one last look at the Iilan ship, then reached for her key. Before she could withdraw it, however, alarms blared around them, and the Operations room was illuminated by emergency lighting.
Rowe called over the din. “Captain! The jump drive has activated!”
“What?!” Liao glanced at Kamal, who looked similarly confused, his key still in his hand. The jump drive should not have been active.
