by S. H. Jucha
“I did,” Alex replied.
It didn’t surprise Alex that Cordelia knew the details of the Assembly’s transaction. When Tomas Monti, Haraken’s president, said the sale amount would remain undisclosed, he was referring to isolating the information from the human population. The secrecy was meant to prevent disclosure to the Confederation Leaders that the Haraken Assembly was supporting Alex’s intentions. Alex himself was keeping his future actions secret from the Assembly, and he’d warned the august body that they should keep any association with him at arm’s length.
Naturally, the city-ship’s transaction was shared among the SADEs, who perceived data as critical details to collect. If the data came with stipulations to compartmentalize it, then it would remain so until directives were issued contravening the original requirements. To a SADE, there was no such thing as a secret, just data containing communication restrictions.
“Then I propose that I receive the same payment for the position, kind Ser,” Cordelia said, giving Alex a leader’s acknowledgment of right hand to left side of chest and a bowed head. This was a traditional Méridien sign of respect with the hand placed over the heart. Despite the SADEs not possessing the beating organ, they’d copied the gesture to express the emotion.
After Alex hired his captain, he turned to completing his next order of business. Signaling Tatia, Alex asked her to meet him aboard the Freedom.
Tatia had resigned her commission with the Haraken fleet and told Alex that Alain and she would be joining his expedition, and Alex had replied, “You’ll still be an admiral, Tatia.”
“An admiral of four travelers,” Tatia said, laughing. In contrast, Tatia intended to bring nearly twenty-five times the number of pilots as Alex possessed of fighters aboard.
When Tatia exited her traveler aboard the Freedom, Alex led her around the ship’s ring to another bay, where Mickey Brandon, Alex’s principal engineer, had set up shop.
The huge city-ship was shaped like a giant saucer, with its massive engines interrupting the circle. Landing bays dotted the mid-level of the entire circumference and were enormous spaces capable of holding ore-excavating and processing machines, giant cargo shuttles, and an incredible amount of raw manufacturing materials. The Librans, who were evacuating their planet in advance of the deadly Nua’ll sphere, planned to live on their city-ships for decades, while they searched for a new home. The ship’s layout meant that walking between bays was exercise in itself.
Tatia and Alex passed through another airlock into Mickey’s bay. While the engineering lab would eventually occupy the entire bay, at this moment, the equipment, much of it still in crates, took up less than one-twentieth of the space.
Alex led Tatia to a small setup surrounded by the usual individuals and stepped back, while Mickey, Emile, and Edmas demonstrated their world-shattering invention.
Tatia’s performance during the presentation was as bad as Alex’s had been when he first watched the demonstration, anxious to interrupt with questions before its completion. When a substrate layer of nanites fell from the newly sprayed shell, Tatia, who was speechless, alternately stared at Alex and the piece of shell.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Alex commented. He played it low-key, but the engineering team looked as if they were ready to jump out of their skins. It was a rare opportunity to celebrate the secret with a new confidant.
“Somehow, uttering black space doesn’t seem to cover this,” Tatia finally said, which released the engineering team to cheer and clap. They gathered around her, slapping her back in sympathy with the momentous knowledge she now shared.
“What … I mean … wait. Let me think,” Tatia said when the cheering died down. “Okay, so you people have invented this capability of creating a Swei Swee shell without the Swei Swee. What do you intend to do with it?”
Demonstrating a pantomime that the engineers and techs had hurriedly practiced, having been forewarned that Tatia was coming to meet with them, they shrugged their shoulders as one and lifted right hands toward Alex.
“Cute,” Tatia said, smirking. “Wait … they gave it to you?” she asked, turning around to face Alex. “And don’t shrug,” she warned him, pointing a finger at his face.
“Yes, they did, unfortunately,” Alex replied, admitting the nature of the immense responsibility he shouldered once more.
“Again,” Tatia whispered, shaking her head.
“Again,” Alex agreed.
“Well, on the plus side, this means we can make warships anywhere,” said Tatia, shouting and pumping a fist in the air. It galvanized the engineering team, who broke into another round of cheering and applause.
“Quite true, Admiral,” Alex said, underlining Tatia’s proffered title. His words had the effect he sought. Tatia’s eyes narrowed, while she considered future possibilities in light of the engineers’ new capability. “Tell them what you need, Admiral. They’re all ears and implants,” Alex said, gesturing toward the team and walking out of the bay.
“But what are the operational demands?” Tatia shouted at Alex’s retreating back.
“How would I know?” Alex said over his shoulder, as he made the airlock hatch.
Tatia glanced at Emile, whose face expressed sympathy for her, but Mickey was grinning. “And why are you so happy?” she demanded of Mickey.
“It’s just like the old days, Tatia. The man brings a whole new meaning to the expression of sailing into the deep dark,” Mickey replied, chuckling.
“Okay, people,” said Tatia, shaking her head, as if the motion would help settle the admiral’s stars she would wear again on her shoulders, “Let’s see what inventive ideas you have that might help us take on an alien sphere, which, more than likely, will be carrying some sort of miraculous, world-destroying weaponry.”
* * *
Before the Freedom broke Haraken’s orbit, seven traveler flights landed aboard. The first flight caught Alex by surprise. He halted in the corridor to query the ship’s controller and received a list of the passengers’ bio IDs, which contained their names and occupations. The number of people who were disembarking was also unexpected, and Alex checked the controller to see who authorized them joining the expedition. While he hadn’t necessarily stated to the few he expected to accompany him who was and wasn’t authorized to approve people joining the expedition, it was Alex’s expectation that he would be the final arbiter — apparently, that wasn’t so.
In addition to ninety-eight pilots, Alex discovered engineers, techs, medical specialists, flight chiefs and crew, assorted support personnel, and even some entertainers. Alex’s intention to limit the number of humans accompanying him to fewer than a hundred had suddenly become moot.
One of the few points that Alex and Renée did agree on was that they would take the Rêveur with them. If a traveler was too small to accommodate the movement of people during the expedition, then they’d rely on
the passenger liner as their primary transport. The city-ship was too massive to move around like some sort of shuttle and would remain in orbit around any planet that became their temporary or final destination. Besides, Francis Lumley, the Rêveur’s captain, was determined not to be left behind. The captain had said goodbye to his Sol companions, having a tearful parting with his best friend, Olawale Wombo.
“Come visit me, my friend,” Francis said to Olawale. “You won’t be able to miss me. More than likely, I’ll be parked next to Alex’s monstrous city-ship.”
-2-
Moon Landing
Alex invited Winston to his home the morning the Freedom was due to launch. Winston once served the Confederation as the Council of Leaders’ SADE before he was freed. The two stood beside Alex’s gazebo, gazing out to sea.
“I need a piece of information, Winston,” Alex said.
“I’m at your service, Alex.”
“What’s the Confederation’s new location for the Independents?”
Winston hesitated for a couple of ticks, deciding how to reply. “I promised Mahima Ganesh that I would never speak of this to anyone, especially you. The woman was never fond of you.”
Alex laughed at Winston’s understatement.
Meanwhile, Winston drew a series of numbers and declinations in the sandy soil with his boot, and Alex recorded the information in his implant before Winston erased the message.
“It’s important to keep one’s promises, Alex. So, I will continue to never speak a word of the Independent’s location,” Winston said, smiling at Alex.
“I’ll see you again someday, Winston,” said Alex, clapping the SADE on the shoulder and hurrying to his house.
Go, Alex; free more of the imprisoned, and may the stars protect you, Winston thought, enjoying the view and the smell of the ocean. With Alex’s help, the SADE had gained his freedom from his metal-alloy box after nearly a century and a half of service to the Confederation Council.
* * *
Cordelia had launched the Freedom out of Haraken’s orbit on Alex’s order. She stood on the bridge, wearing a uniform of Haraken dark blue without military insignias. Instead, Cordelia’s uniform was adorned with a captain’s gold studs and the Freedom’s new emblem.
“A destination would be nice, Alex,” Cordelia said, as the city-ship broke orbit, a smile tweaking the side of her face.
In reply, Alex sent the information to Cordelia and Julien that Winston provided, leaving it in its original state.
“We’re back to drawing in the dirt, Alex?” Julien asked, as Cordelia and he cross-referenced the information to determine the destination.
“The individual, who provided this data, said he promised to never speak of it,” Alex replied. “I’m honoring his words.”
“These coordinates point to a gas giant in a dead system of the Confederation, Alex,” Cordelia said.
“Imagine that,” Alex replied, “but, more than likely, we’ll be interested in a moon orbiting the planet.” He left the bridge, headed for a conference with Mickey’s engineering team, who were building a test bed to layup a traveler, one-tenth size, utilizing Emile’s faux Swei Swee spit, which Mickey had taken to calling the spraying process.
Cordelia stared at Julien, wondering why the secrecy. When Julien shrugged his shoulders, she said, “And you think that gesture somehow adds something useful to our conversation?”
“Cordelia,” Julien said gently. “Alex made you captain because he has confidence in you, but that doesn’t mean he’ll share everything with you. Recall our early days with him when he led and we followed.”
* * *
Cordelia decelerated the Freedom until the city-ship took up station 50 kilometers from Daelon’s orbital platform. She’d received several inquiries from Maynard Scullers for more information, but she kept her replies to the manager short and uninformative.
Alex boarded a traveler with Renée, Julien, Tatia, Mickey, the twins, and several of the new Confederation SADEs.
Svetlana, who had been appointed Alex’s primary traveler pilot, launched the ship from the Freedom’s bay. It was a short flight to the moon below. Telemetry indicated the moon’s rock had been excavated to create a flattened base, which led toward an immense overhang. A pair of bay doors was embedded in the rock’s face, and Svetlana chose to hover the traveler in front of them.
“Pilot, has the platform received a new traveler?” asked the voice on Svetlana’s comm. “Hope that doesn’t mean we’re going to receive a mass of new tourists for our wonderful vacation spot.” The bay control manager tried to sound jovial, but it came out a bit strained.
Alex, who was linked with Svetlana, sent,
In the control room, Glenn, the manager, glanced around him, double-checking that others had heard what he thought he heard. He went so far as to replay his implant recording. “Get OP up here now,” he hissed to his comms operator.
Because it was early in the morning, Daelon time, Ophelia and Perrin, partners and co-Leaders of the Independents, were fast asleep and entwined in each other’s arms when their comm buzzed.
Perrin activated the comm above the bed and said in a rough voice, “Better be good.”
“Sorry, OP,” the operator said. He pronounced the letters individually, which is how the Independents referred to their co-Leaders. “Man at the door wants to land.”
“What man?”
“Calls himself Alex Racine,” the operator replied. The co-Leaders were linked through the bay control room’s speakers, and the personnel were forced to contain themselves, while they waited with bated breath for the reply.
“This early in the morning, Jensen, your humor is unappreciated.”
“So, you want me to tell him to go away, or do you want to do it?”
“Let’s see how far you’re willing to carry on with this farce, Jensen,” Perrin growled, sitting up in bed. By now, he had Ophelia’s interest, and she sat up too. “Connect me to this individual.”
“This is co-Leader Keller,” Perrin said, when Jensen told him he was online. “To whom am I speaking?”
“Ser, whoever you are, know that life on this dead rock gets dull, abysmally dull, and people here do whatever they can to amuse one another. I’m about to put Jensen and you on report. Now, properly identify yourself.”
In turn, Julien linked into the comms operator system, followed the connection to the co-Leader’s comms unit, and identified the man’s bio ID, which he passed to Alex.
During those ticks of time, Alex pulled up a collection of images from the past twenty years. He linked with Julien, who linked him to Perrin. A
lex swept aside the co-Leader’s implant security apps and streamed the vid he’d prepared.
Ophelia watched her partner freeze and pale. As quickly as Perrin appeared to be overtaken, he relaxed.
“Quick, get dressed,” Perrin ordered Ophelia, leaping out of bed. “It’s the world shaker himself, Alex Racine, at the bay doors. Jensen, tell Glenn to let the man land.”
In the control room, personnel twittered and chuckled. They had played jokes on one another for years in an effort to relieve the boredom and keep peoples’ spirits up. This time, the greatest prank they could have imagined was, in reality, not a joke at all.
When the bay doors slid open, Svetlana glided the traveler into the interim lock, edging the ship’s bow near the second set of doors, while the first set closed behind them. She eyed the traveler’s sensor in her helmet, which indicated air pressure. To her, the wait seemed interminable.
When the second set of doors opened, Svetlana guided the ship into the bay, set it down, double-checked the pressure, and signaled Alex that he had a welcoming committee.
Alex led his small entourage off the traveler and onto the bay’s deck. Arrayed in front of him were about twenty people, and Alex was struck by their youthfulness, as opposed to his landing on Libre decades ago. There were no elders here on Daelon. The oldest looked to be about forty to forty-five, which meant about sixty to seventy years for Méridiens.
Ophelia sent to Perrin, as she regarded Alex.
