Genesis

by Lawrence P White

  “We’ll study it, but we’ll leave it alone.”

  “We might not,” Douglas replied. “This is not purely an exploratory voyage. Our purpose is to find the Oort home world. If I were them, I wouldn’t launch massive missions from my home world if I could accomplish the same thing from somewhere else. Statistically, we might be more likely to discover other worlds they’ve settled before we find their home world.”

  “That doesn’t change our policy. We’ll log whatever we find and leave well enough alone.”

  “We might not,” Douglas suggested again, studying Jamyl’s eyes for his reaction. “I might want to capture an Oort. How would you go about doing that?”

  Jamyl stared at him as if he had gone crazy. “I haven’t a clue,” he finally answered.

  “Why don’t you talk it over with your staff and see if you can come up with some ideas?” Douglas suggested. “And be practical—you might have to put a plan into effect one of these days.”

  The two men locked gazes. Jamyl eventually said as a statement rather than a question, “The Alliance isn’t the Exploration Service, is it.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Douglas replied. “If we do our jobs really well, it might become that again.”

  Chapter Twenty

  When Ollie entered Kannick’s cell, the person stretched out on the cot seemed like a stranger. His hair had grown long and unruly, he had not shaved in weeks, and he looked emaciated. He responded lethargically when questioned.

  Ollie called for a physician. The Harbok examined Kannick briefly, then shrugged his shoulders and said, “He’s alive. He looks like he needs to eat, and he needs to get off that cot. Other than that, I can’t say. I don’t know anything about the An’Atee.”

  Ollie defied orders and brought soup. He forced Kannick to eat, then he essentially dragged him out of his cell for a short walk. When they returned, Kannick collapsed onto his cot without having spoken a word.

  During the ensuing days, the walks lengthened. Ollie cleaned up the scarecrow of a person who had once been Colonel Kannick, even cutting his hair with surprising skill.

  “You’re looking better,” Ollie said as he came into the cell several weeks later.

  Kannick sat on the side of his cot and looked up dejectedly. “Thanks, Ollie. Borkt told me about the trouble I’ve made for you. You might have saved my life. I think I was dying.”

  “A Harbok would not have reacted the same way.”

  “I’m not a Harbok. I have never in my life been so alone, nor have I known anyone who was.”

  “I spoke with Lor Tas’val. He is angry at the treatment you received. Your stay here is nearing an end. Are you back to your old self?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Well, you have to pull yourself out of this. I’m counting on you, and so is Greg.”

  “Yes! The Alliance. I haven’t thought about my mission for months.”

  “The Alliance? What’s that?”

  Kannick stared long at him before mumbling, “Our future. Yours, mine, and Earth’s. I can’t say more.”

  “The Lor will want to know.”

  “Not yet.” Kannick leaned forward with his head in his hands while he thought about his mission, but his mind felt like it was made of mush.

  “I can’t see the Lor right now, not in this condition. I need exercise, Ollie, and something to exercise my mind. Can you bring me my pad?”

  “I have no idea where it is. I’ll see if I can find it. I hate exercise, but it won’t kill me. What kind of exercise?”

  “I prefer running. How about you?”

  “With one leg? No. We Harbok prefer wrestling. I’ll be right back.” He left Kannick’s cell but returned shortly with a cart he could ride on. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, leading Kannick from the cell.

  They went out into the hallway and turned right. Kannick started jogging, but he quickly reverted to walking. He did better the next day, and even better the day after that.

  Borkt showed up at his cell with his pad and some Harbok books, including their StarDrive manual. He and Borkt discussed what the Harbok knew of the StarDrive, and Kannick’s interest actually kindled. He did not learn anything new, but he felt his mind sharpening.

  His runs became longer, surprising Ollie. “How do you do it?” he asked. “The gravity on this world is killing me.”

  “You’re not used to it?”

  “This is my first visit to Haldor. I hate it.”

  “You’ve never been to your home world?” Kannick asked in astonishment as he kept the pace up relentlessly. He did not admit to Ollie that the higher gravity was a problem for him as well.

  “Haldor is not my home world. I come from a much kinder place, as do most Harbok. The Lor might explain. I’d like to know more about this Alliance you mentioned.”

  Kannick stopped running and turned to Ollie. “Come back to Ariall with me, Ollie. It’s Greg’s place to tell you about the Alliance.”

  “I will not willingly place myself in the position you now find yourself in,” Ollie stated flatly.

  “What if I promised you complete freedom there?”

  “In exchange for what?”

  “For your thoughts. We need guidance. I came here to convince your Lor that the An’Atee are worthy, but Greg gave me a second assignment—to bring you back to Ariall with me. He asks only one thing of you—he asks for your discretion. His plans cannot become common knowledge among the Harbok. Not yet. He’d like you to be a part of the process that changes that, but until the time is right, we have to be discreet.”

  Ollie laughed. “You ask too much, An’Atee. After you meet the Lor, we’ll see. I take it you and Greg are involved with this Alliance?”

  “From time to time. When do I meet the Lor?”

  “When you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready right now. You’ve brought me back as far as you can without returning me to my home.”

  “I’ll let him know.”

  Guards showed up the next day and took him on a long walk. He decided it was their way of letting him exercise, and he put as much effort into it as he could, even warming up enough to remove the parka. Eventually the guards stopped before a plain gray door and knocked. They ushered Kannick into another bleak, gray room to stand before a middle-aged Harbok. The man sat behind an austere desk reading a written report. Dressed in ordinary work clothes, the man stood up and stared at him.

  He motioned for the guards to leave and continued staring. Eventually, he said, “You are the first An’Atee I have personally met. Welcome to Haldor, Colonel. I am Lor Tas’val.”

  Kannick bowed and said, “I’m pleased to meet you, sir.”

  “Join me where we can talk more comfortably.”

  Tas’val led him into a larger, adjoining room that had several other rooms opening off of it. Couches and easy chairs formed two sitting areas, but other than worn furniture and a single table with a computer, the room held no other adornments. Kannick wondered if he had come into the Lor’s home. Tas’val seated himself in what was obviously an old, favorite, padded chair. Kannick climbed up on a couch and sat facing him with his feet dangling above the floor.

  “You’re an ambassador?” Tas’val asked.

  “Call me anything you want. It might be easier if we keep this meeting informal.”

  “I like that idea, Colonel. Besides, I’m not ready to open formal relations with the An’Atee, though from the sounds of things, it might happen sooner rather than later.”

  “That is our hope, sir, but we have a long way to go.”

  “We do indeed. Since we’re keeping this informal, you may address me as Tas’val.”

  “Thank you, sir. My friends call me Kannick.”

  “We are not friends, Kannick, but that works. I have not decided if this meeting will ever officially take place. Tell me about yourself.”

  Kannick raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I thought we would talk about the Oort.”

  “All in good time. I
want to know more about the person the An’Atee sent to represent them.”

  “In that case, I’m probably not who you expect. I’m a scientist, not a diplomat, though I recently moved into the political side of things out of necessity. Prior to that, I was a squadron commander.”

  Tas’val’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re a warrior?”

  Kannick looked at Tas’val with a frown and said, “We have no warriors. Surely you know that.”

  Tas’val nodded. “Yes, I am aware. I just wasn’t sure if you were.”

  Kannick felt like squirming, but he did not. He had known the subject would come up, but he had not anticipated it happening so soon. This man did not waste time.

  “To be brutally honest, sir, our only shortcoming is that we can’t ‘pull the trigger’ as the saying goes.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “Because we treasure life. To us, taking the life of an intelligent being for any purpose goes against everything we believe.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Nearly everyone. I have pulled the trigger, and a few of my pilots have as well. Besides us, I only know of two others. Your men killed one of them on Earth, and the other fought and escaped. Since our learning of the Oort and their unconscionable way of life, more have come forward saying they will fight, though to the best of my knowledge, they have not been put to the test.”

  “I appreciate your honesty. Had you been less analytical in your evaluation, this meeting would be over, and you would be on your way home. Tell me this: if you can’t fight, just how do you expect to help me?”

  “You’ve been briefed on my purpose?”

  Tas’val stared at him for a time before saying, “I want to hear it from you.”

  “I brought plans for a new system with me. Is it an indication of our worth?”

  “The system will not help us.”

  “Yes, there is that, isn’t there?” Kannick sighed. “We had high hopes, and we still do, but can you see the potential here? What gifts might I have brought if I knew what you needed? I could have brought a thousand ships if that’s what you need.”

  “Ships with fighting crews?”

  Kannick frowned. “I could, but you wouldn’t want the crews.” A moment later, he brightened and added, “On the other hand, our ships are far advanced over yours. What if I supplied you with ships and trained your men to fly them? What if I supplied repair and overhaul facilities, genetically improved crops and animals with higher yields, and research on new weapons? Tell me what you need to defend Haldor, and we’ll do our best to help. We An’Atee might not be able to pull the trigger, but there are lots of other things we can do, and we do them very well.”

  “Haldor is not your concern. We’re evacuating most of the population.”

  Tas’val’s statement shocked Kannick to his core. “You’re giving up your home world?”

  “This is not our home world, Kannick. It’s a prison. Haldor serves as a magnet for the Oort, a place we will hold to the last man, but only because it draws the Oort here instead of elsewhere.”

  “Haldor isn’t your home world?”

  “No. That world fell very soon after the Oort showed themselves. It is long gone.”

  Kannick sat back to think. When Kannick thought, he thought hard, sometimes to the exclusion of everyone and everything around him. Tas’val seemed to accept this and gave Kannick all the time he needed.

  Kannick shook his head after a time and mumbled in awe, “You lost your home world.”

  “Just so. And our best and brightest people. This world was never, and could never, give rise to an intelligent, star-faring people. The Harbok with whom you are familiar are all products of our colonies. I for one will not be unhappy to give up Haldor, though it grieves me greatly to do so under these circumstances.”

  “You can’t defend it?”

  “Not against an Oort cloaking device. For that piece of advance information, I thank you. Leaving our people here under these circumstances would be a failure of leadership. We will, however, leave a fighting force behind to convince the Oort that there is still something here worth taking. The longer we hold their interest here, the better off the rest of our civilization is.”

  “A whole world evacuated,” Kannick breathed softly, in awe of such a concept. “Can you do it?”

  “With enough time, yes. Will we have that time? I don’t know.”

  “Do you want our help?”

  “I already have everything you mentioned.”

  “We have some very large ships.”

  “I’m pretty familiar with what you have. I’ll take it under consideration. What else can you offer?”

  “How about an end to this war?”

  Kannick’s words caught Tas’val by surprise. He sat back in deep concentration. When he looked back to Kannick, he leaned forward and said with narrowed eyes, “A concept I must confess I’ve never even considered. You have the means to win this war, to annihilate the Oort?”

  “Maybe. We’re working hard on a number of projects.”

  “Tell me about them.”

  Kannick pulled his parka back on. The body heat he had generated during his walk had worn off. “I’d rather you tell me what you need.”

  “If I need anything at all, you mean?”

  “Uh . . . yes.” Kannick leaned toward Tas’val and said, “We An’Atee fully appreciate the fact that you don’t want to accept help from us. That doesn’t change the fact that you would benefit from our help.”

  “Kannick, you have only held discussions with a few military scientists and warriors. Out of necessity, their thoughts are focused on our immediate concerns—defending ourselves from the Oort. If all Harbok felt as they do, we would have no interest in helping you. Most Harbok are proud to be helping the An’Atee, myself included. So are a few of my senior staff.” He coughed into a fist and added, “Not very many of them. But Kannick, we’re a little more farsighted than what you have seen. We know that winning a few skirmishes does not win the war.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. The war has obviously been a severe trial for you, and the knowledge that your home world was lost early on in that struggle provides great insight to me.”

  “Yes, we lost our best and brightest. The struggle has been inordinately difficult and challenging without those great minds. Other great minds have taken their places over the centuries, but Lieutenant Borkt tells me that we are far behind you in certain technological areas.”

  “You talked with him?”

  “And with Ollie. They hold the opinion that some of your technological advancements might be helpful.”

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that. Will you let us help?”

  “At what price?”

  “Sir, you’ve already paid for anything we might provide. You’ve paid with 2,000 years of fighting while we enjoyed peace and prosperity. We are in your debt, and we know it. I might be speaking outside the parameters set for me by my superiors, but I believe the things we offer will come to you with few, if any, strings attached. We want to ask for something in return, but it is not a prerequisite. Your survival comes first.”

  “What do you want?”

  “We want you to accept us as partners, as allies in this war.”

  “But you can’t fight.”

  “We’re working on that. In the eyes of every Harbok I’ve met, the discussion begins and ends there. I hope you and I can come to a broader understanding. We have a plan, sir. At this point in time, the plan is solely of our own devising and might be off target. If you’ll work with us, we might improve the plan.”

  “What is your plan?”

  “We’ve been working hard on weapons development. A counter to the cloaking device has moved up to the highest priority. Ollie showed us that what we came up with will not help significantly, but we’re not giving up. In the short term, we can, with your permission, send fighting ships and the support those ships need. We’ve already begun a program to modify the
m for your crews, though I’ve been out of touch and cannot speak to our progress. We might have to include some of our own crew members for certain functions. Intermediate goals include better computers for your ships, and perhaps enhanced manufacturing capabilities and facilities for production of various things. Our list is quite long, but it’s one-sided. Tell us what you need, and we will refine our list.”

  “Ollie tells me you have a secret weapon that can take out a baseship.”

  “It can do far more than that, Tas’val, but it is and will remain a secret at present.”

  Tas’val’s eyes flashed momentarily, then he calmed himself before asking, “If you won’t give us such weapons, how do you hope to help us win the war?”

  Kannick smiled grimly. “A true An’Atee answer to that question, Tas’val, is that we don’t seek winning. We seek an ending. Do you understand the difference?”

  “Intellectually, yes. In my heart, no.”

  “And that is why we will retain some secrets, at least for the present. What we give cannot be taken back. We’re seriously deficient at fighting. We don’t know you well enough to know what you will do when the war ends. Who the Harbok might be after 2,000 years of continual fighting worries us. Might you have some deficiencies when it comes to keeping the peace once it is won?”

  “You test me, Kannick. First you dangle a carrot, then you take it away. How does your plan anticipate winning—or ending—this war if you don’t give us your best weapons?”

  “We want to give you weapons. We just won’t give you all the science behind them until we know you better. You might have failed to turn us into fighters, but you did teach us to be wary. Isn’t that a good thing?”

  When Tas’val just stared at him, Kannick pressed on. “We believe that having better weapons will not, by itself, end the war. The only good defense is a strong offense. We believe you’ve been fighting defensively for 2,000 years. It’s time to take the war to the Oort. We are going to do that for you.”

  Tas’val sat up straighter. “That is our single greatest failure in all these years of fighting. Your insight surprises me.”

  “It’s not my insight. It’s not even an An’Atee insight. It came from Greg Hamilton.”