by S. H. Jucha
“I thought not, but I had to ask. Okay, the other big question. After your people and mine work out an agreement, who signs it? I understand that a government hasn’t been formed. When do you think that will happen?”
“You won’t be signing a pact with a world organization. It will be approved by New Terra’s Assembly and the owners of Omnia Ships.”
“I think I’m afraid to ask … who owns Omnia Ships?”
You met many of them when you toured the shell lab aboard this ship … Mickey, Emile, Edmas, and Jodlyne … and, of course, Renée and me. In addition, there are several banks that have a significant interest in seeing Omnia Ships perform well.”
“The SADEs you mentioned?” Darryl guessed.
“Three financial entities, owned by the SADEs, who’ve invested in this enterprise,” Alex replied.
Darryl stared at Julien long enough that the SADE imaged his green-visor poker hat on his head, projecting the universal symbol for a credit at its crown. “Well, now I know where to go for a loan,” Darryl muttered.
“I don’t know how the Assembly will take to signing a pact or agreement, or whatever you want to call it, with a company, but, knowing it’s yours, Alex, it should stand a good chance of approval. I’d like to start with my consultant receiving access to data on the equipment and associated cost of assembling travelers and sting ships, if that’s okay.”
“Certainly,” Alex agreed.
“And we’ll need a second list of the same thing for the warships and orbital platform. Plus, labor requirements to participate in the buildout of the ships and the station.”
“Done.”
“And last point. We’ll expect to have unfettered rights to any shared technology. No licensing or restrictions of any kind for anything we build for you.”
“Agreed,” Alex replied. He stood up and offered his hand to Maria, who shook it warmly.
“It’s good to be back in business again, Alex,” Maria said.
“Frederick, Cordelia will take care of your needs for any existing materials on the travelers and sting ships. I don’t know how far Mickey and his people are along on the specs for the ships that Tatia and her commanders want.”
“They’re done, Alex,” Tatia said.
“Alex, you’re slipping,” Maria teased. “You used to be more on top of things.”
“He wasn’t here for a while, Maria,” Renée explained. “He was off playing explorer on the Dischnya home world.”
“Oh, this I have to hear,” Darryl enthused.
“It’ll have to wait, Darryl,” Alex replied, and he led the group from the conference room.
* * *
“What did you understand about that explorer trip business, Maria?” Darryl whispered, as Frederick led the way unerringly to the bay where the Rover’s traveler and pilot waited.
“It was odd, wasn’t it?” Maria replied.
“If I might offer an opinion, Ser?” Frederick requested.
Maria stopped and Frederick retraced his steps.
“First, an apology, Frederick, for not asking your advice about the Méridien Council,” Maria said.
“None is needed —” Frederick stopped in midsentence when Maria raised a hand.
“No, you and I are starting off on the wrong foot, Frederick.” When the SADE glanced toward his feet, Maria waved him off. “Sorry, that’s a military expression, which wouldn’t mean anything to you, Frederick. Let me be blunt. I’m requesting that whenever you have an idea or believe you have something valuable to communicate to me that you do so without hesitation. Whether I follow your advice or not is not to be taken into account. Always offer your advice.”
“Those are unexpected directives but quite liberating. It will be done as you request, Ser.”
The exchange opened Maria’s eyes to the type of communication Alex must have had with his SADEs in the early days, and she made a mental note to treat Frederick in a different fashion than she had her troops or investigators.
“Now, Frederick, you were going to say something about Alex,” Maria prompted.
“Yes, Ser, comparing the voice analysis of Alex’s last words and those of his partner to previous statements made by both allows some interpretation.”
“Please continue, Frederick,” Maria said, suddenly realizing the extraordinary insights a SADE could offer.
“Ser de Guirnon’s voice indicated displeasure when she spoke about Ser Racine’s exploration, and, during our tour, I gleaned from disparate sources that the Dischnya are new arrivals to this planet. Their home world is the next planet inward. I would surmise that’s where Ser Racine went.”
“Interesting, Frederick. Anything else?”
“Yes, but it has a lower level of probability.”
“Understood, please continue.”
“I have a detailed history of much of Alex Racine’s interaction with the Confederation. It was maintained as part of Leader Lemoyne’s records. The question you didn’t ask Ser Racine was why he’s in a hurry to build his warships.”
“He found those three dark travelers,” Darryl supplied.
“That’s true, Ser. But what could he do with that information? He now has another source point of travel for the Nua’ll sphere. Did the aliens come here directly? What was their vector when they entered the system? How far did they travel from their previous stop?”
“Excellent questions, Frederick,” Maria replied.
“I conclude Ser Racine was searching the Dischnya home world for information about the vector the alien sphere was on when it entered this system, and his last statement, which I’m sure you comprehended also, was meant to end all discussion on the subject. The only reason I can hypothesize as to why he would be so adamant in his dismissal was that he found something, which he doesn’t wish to share.”
Darryl regarded Maria, his mouth hanging open in disbelief at the in-depth analysis they’d received. Then he broke into laughter and clapped his hands softly. “Great job, Frederick,” Darryl said, slapping the SADE on the shoulder.
Frederick was quite appreciative of Julien’s help concerning New Terran gestures. He’d now received his second physical appreciation. This time, he took enjoyment from the contact, understanding that he hadn’t received a physical attack on his person.
-22-
Fortune Strikes
In the silence of the early morning hour, Pussiro raced through the Tawas Soma tunnels, his heart bounding and his breath ragged. What he was about to do was against the nest’s strictures, regarding the queen, but his mate was in trouble.
The few warriors roaming the tunnels detected swift steps. Ears twitched in the direction of the footsteps, and warriors would prepare to interdict the intruder only to leap aside, as their commander pounded past.
An elder warrior on post in a lookout jumped up when Pussiro burst into his small room and watched his wasat race up the ladder and throw open the hatch in one smooth movement. He grabbed his weapon and followed, ready to offer his life in defense of the nest.
Pussiro ran to the small comms unit and mashed its oversized red button. Failing to have time to catch his breath before he heard a voice on the comm, Pussiro managed a single growl.
Alex snapped up in bed when he received Cordelia’s priority signal, which woke Renée. Alex linked his partner and sent,
Alex accepted the link Cordelia offered, sending,
Between great gulps of breath, Pussiro gasped out, “Dassata, bring your soma who healed your wounds. Nyslara has need of you.”
Alex’s next communication was interrupted as Renée climbed across him and grabbed a set of utility overalls to wear. She threw pants and shirt at him and sat on the bed to pull on her boots.
Julien squeezed Cordelia’s hand and ran for the landing bays, trusting Cordelia to inform him of his ultimate destination. As he ran, he could detect Alex’s heavy steps in the corridor behind him.
Étienne and Ellie were fast asleep when Cordelia’s comm woke both of them.
Étienne sent a brief message to his twin, who slipped silently from Tatia’s bed. Alain brushed a blonde curl from his lover’s face, donned some clothes, and hurried out of the cabin door. My beauty, if only I could sleep as sound as you, Alain thought with a smile, as he sprinted down the Freedom’s wide corridor.
When Pia was woken, she managed to exit the cabin without disturbing Mickey. She ran to the medical suite where she met Miranda, who had set out equipment they might need.
“I must admit, Pia,” Miranda said, when Pia burst through the suite’s twin doors. “I’ve studied the entire medical database and even augmented it with some of my own recent experiences, but I can’t recall ever reviewing alien birthing complications, which is probably what we’re facing.”
“We treat this as a birth complication,” Pia replied, quickly adding, “times three or four or five.”
Miranda swept some medical supplies into a bag and then gathered four identical sets from the storage bins, adding them to the bag. “Come, Pia, Cordelia has sent me the traveler’s bay.”
Miranda snatched the heavy bag from the table and raced from the suite. Pia hesitated, wondering if Miranda had grabbed everything they might need. Then she mentally kicked herself for doubting a SADE’s decisions and sprinted after her.
As Julien ran, he commed Cordelia, requesting Bartlett’s location. He hoped to glean some expert medical advice from the SADE.
Julien made it to the airlock in time to see a flight chief exit the traveler and run across the bay toward him.
When the chief exited the airlock, he said, “Systems check complete, Julien. Controller’s online. Ship’s ready to fly.” Hearing the approach of a heavy worlder and his locale app identifying Alex, the chief jumped away from the airlock hatch and stood against the corridor’s far wall.
In quick time, Alex and Renée were joined by Étienne, Ellie, and Alain. They climbed into the airlock, and Alex glanced at Julien, who said, “We await Miranda and Pia. They’re close.”
Moments later, Miranda arrived, and the swish of air and screech of her boots on the decking indicated the speed she had to dissipate.
Pia leapt into the airlock soon after. She was bent over and breathing heavily, but managed to regard Miranda and say, “Should have asked for a ride.”
Julien closed the airlock’s corridor hatch and opened the bay side. Ellie sprinted ahead to gain the pilot’s seat, and the SADEs followed her.
Pia squeaked when Alex swung her into his arms and pounded after the SADEs across the length of the bay. She thought he would set her on the deck at the hatch steps. Instead, she was neatly lofted through the hatch opening to be caught by Miranda. Pia was swiftly moved aside by the SADE to make room for Renée, who leapt to the traveler’s deck.
Alex quickly climbed aboard, signaled the hatch closed, and commed Ellie,
Ellie applied power, even as the bay doors slid aside, slipping the ship through the opening with less than a meter to spare on either side. She dove for the planet at max acceleration, causing Miranda and Julien to signal each other.
Both SADEs ended their vigilance, when moments later Ellie dropped velocity. She settled the traveler within 10 meters of the comms station and signaled the hatch open.
As the group rushed toward Pussiro, Alex yelled. “Go first, Commander,” and the wasat ran and dropped through the lookout hatch.
By agreement, Étienne led the group down the ladder, and Alain took up station at the rear. When everyone was down, Alex looked at the wasat and threw his head toward the corridor.
Pussiro nodded and took off running down the main tunnel. Several times he was forced to stop and wait for Alex’s soma to catch up to him. He attempted to slow his pace, but his impatience and fear for Nyslara overrode his good sense.
Alex noted more than one pair of wide eyes staring at them from doorways, as they raced past, warriors shocked to see aliens penetrating so deep into the tunnels late at night.
In the queen’s front room, Pussiro crossed to the curtain, which separated the queen’s sleeping chamber. He scratched at the wall, and Cysmana, the queen’s attendant, hurried out. Fear showed in her eyes, and her shoulder bled from a wound.
“Tell Dassata’s soma of Nyslara’s condition,” Pussiro ordered.
“My queen’s birthing is late, and the mewlings are becoming aggressive. Her scent indicates she carries, at least, one female, but there may be more,” Cysmana said.
“What do you mean by aggressive?” Miranda asked, speaking Dischnya for Pia, who had relayed the question to her.
“A late birthing means the mewlings are active and have begun to fight one another. If there’s a single female, she might be overcome by several males, even though she will be the greater mewling,” Cysmana replied.
“Understand,” Pussiro interrupted, “mewlings are not yet of the soma. They’re born in the manner of the old race, and require the matriarchs to curtail their aggression until they become pups and are able to learn the ways of the Dischnya.”
“Incredible,” Pia said quietly, “a transition period between ancient behaviors and a level of sentience that allows the learning of societal manners.”
“This will mean we’ll have difficulty handling the mewlings if we assist in Nyslara’s delivery,” Miranda said.
Pia examined Cysmana’s wound, knelt down, and opened the medical bag. She started to swab the wound with a cooling medicant, but Cysmana jerked away.
“Be still, Cysmana,” Pussiro ordered.
“Keep Cysmana busy, Miranda,” Pia requested. “Ask her how multiple births of a queen are normally handled.”
While Miranda repeated the request, Pia sprayed the wound, which eliminated the sting and numbed the area, calming Cysmana considerably. Then Pia pinched the wound together, beginning with its edge, and sealed the cut with a narrow beam laser.
While Pia worked, Cysmana explained that mature females assist a queen with the birth. They take the males, who once they are handled and nursed by others, bond with those females. The queen keeps the female mewlings, if there are any, although it’s rare to see a queen give birth to more than one female, at any one time.
“Are mature females standing by to assist, Cysmana?” Miranda asked.
“They wait in the room across the corridor,” Cysmana replied.
“Fetch them,” Miranda directed, and stepped toward Nyslara’s bedchamber.
“You must be careful,” Cysmana warned. “The queen is in pain, and she defends her unborn young. Her tail is most dangerous,” Cysmana added, pointing to her shoulder.
When Miranda approached the curtain, the group attempted to follow her, but Pussiro growled a warning. He couldn’t help himself. Despite the presence of Dassata, his instinctual
behavior was to let no male near his mate.
Miranda chuckled and spoke in Dischnya for the wasat’s benefit. “It looks like females only beyond this point,” and she delivered a brook-no-argument stare at Alex, and then guided Pia in front of her.
Pussiro, Alex, and Julien were left in the front chamber with nothing to do but wait.
Nyslara was writhing to and fro on her pallet. Her belly was immensely swollen, and the naked eye could detect the struggles of the mewlings. Nyslara’s eyes focused briefly, prompted by the strange scents intruding on her space, and her tail snapped out at Miranda, who caught it in one hand.
Miranda and Pia glanced at the device’s readout, and Pia lamented. “It would be nice to know if what we’re looking at is normal or abnormal.”
“I think it doesn’t matter,” Renée said. “We either help deliver these mewlings quickly for Nyslara or they are all probably dead.” Both Pia and Miranda nodded their agreement.
Pia pulled a portable scanner and drew it from top to bottom over Nyslara’s belly.
“That’s something you don’t see every day,” Miranda commented.
All three had picked up the reader’s display in their implants and comms. The scanner showed four mewlings, whose tails and hind feet were being used to hold one another at bay.
Four older Dischnya females slipped into the room. For them, the entire sight was disturbing — their queen in birth turmoil and aliens attending her. But Pussiro’s message, which he delivered before he ran for help, was abundantly clear. “You’ll assist Dassata’s soma, if you wish to see your queen live,” he told them.
Pia heard hisses from over her shoulder. The Dischnya females had spotted the reader’s display and recognized the melee taking place inside Nyslara.
“Heir,” one of the females said, pointing a dark nail at a mewling.
“Most important,” another female emphasized.
