by S. H. Jucha
Jessie rode the surveyor to the dome with Belinda in the driver’s seat. The remainder of the dome investigation crew rode in the rover. Inside the dome’s entrance, Jessie was struck by the extensive number of crates that were stacked alongside the main corridor. The Jatouche left a narrow aisle to allow passage.
“It’s going to take more than a few shuttle trips,” Belinda said, eyeing the mammoth amount of equipment.
“I’m thinking we load the Annie with the equipment,” Jessie replied. “It’ll make it easier to transfer all of it to the YIPS. When we’re done with that, we’ll wait for the Belle, then load the Jatouche on the colony ship.
Jessie and the crew edged past the mountain of boxes. They hadn’t reached the ramp to the deck level before Tacticnok, followed by Jaktook and Jittak, came bounding down.
“Captain Cinders, we begin,” Tacticnok said excitedly.
“We begin,” Jessie echoed. He wished he knew the proper means of expressing his profound relief for Tacticnok’s generosity, but she beat him to it.
Extending her hand to Jessie, Tacticnok said, “It’s good to be allies.”
“It’s good to have friends,” Jessie replied, accepting Tacticnok’s hand, as the royal daughter flashed her teeth in agreement.
Jessie explained his plan about the equipment and personnel to Tacticnok and Jaktook, and the Jatouche accepted his ideas.
The Jatouche worked to transfer the crates into the dome’s airlock. Alternately, the Pyreans would close the inner door, open the outer, and load up the rover with as much gear as it could carry. When it was obvious to the Jatouche that the humans couldn’t empty the airlock as fast as they could load it, they donned their vac suits. They made it their responsibility to transfer their equipment from the corridor, through the airlock, and stack it on Triton’s dusty surface.
A halt was called after a long day, and Jessie and his crew retired to the shelter, primarily to charge their air tanks and comms. After a quick meal, everyone, except for the night watch crew, was fast asleep, including Aurelia.
The Jatouche did the same thing. Jaktook commented to Tacticnok that every muscle in his body ached to which Tacticnok replied, “I think we’d better get used to it. Humans don’t possess the assistance equipment we do. It looks like they depend on physical labor.”
“Perhaps, when we’re aboard the great ship, there’ll be more individuals to help with the work,” Jaktook managed to say, as he drifted off to sleep.
The next day, the Jatouche finished transferring the entirety of their equipment outside the dome’s airlock. The pile was enormous.
“The humans brought one carryall,” Jittak said with disgust, referring to the rover. “It will take forever to transfer our equipment to their shuttles.”
Tacticnok eyed the distance to the landing site and made a decision. “Each box has four handles. In this gravity, four individuals can carry a single crate to the shuttle. I suggest you get started, Jittak.”
The military leader looked as if he’d been slapped. “Aren’t we doing enough of the humans’ work for them?” he snarled, forgetting he was speaking to a royal member.
“This won’t be for the humans,” Tacticnok replied. “It’ll be for me. After you spend the day carrying equipment to their shuttle, you should be so tired that I won’t have to hear your griping. Get moving or I’ll send you back for failing to heed my orders.”
Jittak’s jaw snapped shut. Courtesy overtook his anger, and he ducked his head in obeisance.
Jaktook regarded the anger evident in Tacticnok’s face.
“Too harsh?” Tacticnok asked, when she saw Jaktook’s expression.
“Did Jittak deserve it? I think so, but there might be a way to take the sting out of your rebuke,” Jaktook replied.
“I could use the advice,” Tacticnok replied.
“Are you ready to carry a crate?” Jaktook asked, his eyes challenging her.
Tacticnok flashed her teeth in reply and gestured two engineers toward her. While Jittak was organizing others, Tacticnok, Jaktook, and the two engineers picked up a box and in synchronized steps bounded off toward the shuttle.
Jittak faced a backlash of grumbling for his directive that the Jatouche must carry the gear to the human’s shuttle. It ceased immediately when they saw the royal daughter leading the way.
Riding in the rover on a return trip, Jessie was passed by Tacticnok and the other Jatouche, who were carrying a case.
“Looks like we’re being shown up for being wimps,” Belinda said.
Jessie grunted in affirmation. When they reached the stack of crates, Jessie examined the handles. Each had the ability to convert to an interlock. He pulled a box down from the top of a stack and laid another beside it. When he fiddled with the handle, a Jatouche hurried over, pulled and twisted the handle to convert it to the interlock. Jessie transformed his handle and tapped the small alien’s arm in appreciation.
“We load the rover first,” Jessie announced over the general comm channel. “Belinda and Aurelia, you drive it back to the shuttle and pick up four crew members. The rest of us are going to carry some crates.”
“I can help with that,” Aurelia said.
“Newbie,” Belinda chastised. “If you’ve never synch-bounced, I don’t recommend trying it for the first time with three other people, much less with the captain.”
No one uttered another word, and Belinda and Aurelia worked on loading the rover with the help of some Jatouche.
Jessie directed his three crew members to hook together two crates by their long sides. He signaled that they would carry the load by grasping the four outer handles.
“Four of us are going to carry two crates, Captain?” Hamoi asked.
“Have you noticed the rapidity with which the Jatouche are changing tanks?” Jessie asked.
“Now that you mention it, Captain, they’re doing it often,” Tully replied. “I would have thought they had more efficient technology than us.”
“It’s not a question of efficiency,” Darrin replied. “The Jatouche are breathing hard and sucking down their air.”
“Darrin’s right,” Jessie added. “I don’t think they’re used to this level of work, but they’re stuck with our limited tech. I think the least we can do is work as hard as them. So, if you three are done jabbering, I suggest you grab a handle and show these wonderful individuals how much you appreciate their help restoring our planet.”
With their longer strides and stronger bodies, Jessie and his crew managed to catch Tacticnok about 50 meters before the Jatouche made the shuttle, and Jessie called to his people to fall in line behind them.
Jaktook’s helmet had signaled the advance of something behind him, and he’d twisted his neck to see the humans fast approaching. A sigh escaped his lips when the humans failed to pass them.
“Why the sigh, Jaktook?” Tacticnok asked, on a private channel.
“The humans were coming so fast, carrying two crates between four of them, that I anticipated they might bound overtop of us. I wanted to see that.”
“Did you think how that would appear to Jittak?” Tacticnok warned.
“My apologies. You’re right. He fears the humans enough for their empaths. If they displayed great strength, he would fear them more,” Jaktook replied.
* * * *
While the Belle and the Annie were outbound to Triton, Harbour held regular comm calls with Tacticnok. During her second call, Harbour requested a favor of Kractik.
“Kractik, can you open a permanent vid connection to the Belle?” Harbour asked.
“With certainty, Captain Harbour,” Kractik replied. After a few taps on her panel, she said, “It’s done, Captain. I’ve provided you with a dome-wide view.”
Dingles substituted the bridge monitor view of Jessie’s array for Kractik’s broadcast. On Harbour’s orders, Birdie relayed the signal throughout the colony ship and directed the transmission Pyre-wide. Aboard stations and ships and downside, people quickly abandoned
security’s display of the array for the sharp, dome view provided by the Jatouche.
However, excitement soon dwindled and boredom set in. There was nothing to watch for days, except for the same group of aliens coming and going via the gate or disappearing down a ramp. Then, with days to go before the Annie made station above Triton, the gate transited stacks of crates and many additional aliens followed.
Pyreans again tuned into Harbour’s channel, as they called it. Whatever they expected, it wasn’t the continual stream of gear and aliens that they witnessed. The platform would be cleared for several minutes. Then the bright blue light would extend from the base and meld with the dome, signaling the arrival of more equipment and individuals. After two days of witnessing the process over and over again, the Pyreans tuned their comm devices and monitors to other entertainment channels.
As one stationer put it, “Once you’ve seen four little aliens carrying a crate, there’s no reason to watch it repeat interminably.”
The downsiders mirrored the topsiders in their opinions of the dome’s view. Excitement peaked, dwindled, rekindled, and then dwindled again.
Under cover of a birthday party for a six-year-old daughter, the formative domes’ council met for the first time. The pretense was perfect, because it was widely known that the governor disdained children’s celebrations. She had no partner and no children.
While the entertainers and servants kept the children’s attention, Rufus and Idrian retired upstairs with six family heads, whom they had convinced to listen to their idea.
Rufus carefully laid out the concept of a council usurping the role of the dome’s governorship. When he finished, Dorelyn, who was the matriarch of the powerful Gaylan clan, was the first to speak up.
“Your concept is clear, Rufus,” Dorelyn said. “What you haven’t provided us is the reason this would be valuable. The families have controlled the domes since the beginning. Our businesses and our personal lives have been good. Why change that?”
“And what will happen to the domes if the Jatouche are successful in recovering this planet?” Idrian asked.
“Who knows that they will be successful or how long it will take?” Dorelyn returned.
“And, what about our governor, who has no heir? What will happen when she dies or when security arrests her?” Rufus proposed. “Are the family heads ready to democratically select a new governor or will it be a power struggle, with lives being sacrificed?”
There were uneasy glances between the family heads. They may have been there to hear the proposal, but it didn’t mean they trusted one another.
“There are many reasons why forming a council will be in the families’ favor,” Idrian said. “Smooth transitions of power by electing a Council Leader to speak to or negotiate with the topsiders. All our business interests can be represented. Most important, we’ll be in control of where and how the Jatouche set up their experiment.”
Idrian’s last statement caused a deathly pall to sweep over the group.
“Come, come,” Rufus urged. “There’s no reason to deny what we all know. For centuries, our enemies have been dumped outside the airlocks. Possibly the bodies were buried and possibly they were left on the surface, the ash soon covering them.”
“And you think the council would do a better job of directing the aliens where to set up their experiment than the governor?” Dorelyn asked.
“Where are your bodies buried, Dorelyn?” Rufus asked. “Or yours, or yours, or yours,” he continued, going around the room. “The governor only knows where hers are laid, not ours.”
“And ask yourselves, friends, what will the topsiders do when they discover what we’ve been doing with our enemies?” Idrian added.
“You can see that it’s critical that the aliens and the topsiders take their experiment far away from the domes along a path that keeps them from discovering our secrets. I think a council will have more political leverage making that request than a governor,” Rufus said.
Idrian and Rufus watched Dorelyn, who was the de facto leader of the five family heads, turn to the others and slowly nod her agreement with the proposal. What remained to do was convince the remaining family heads of the idea and determine a means of instigating a political coup against Lise Panoy.
At the same moment as the discussion took place at Dorelyn’s home, Lise was observing the scene from the Triton dome and consulting with Jordie MacKiernan, her security chief.
“It looks like the grand experiment is going to happen,” Jordie commented, watching the activity on the dome’s deck.
“Looks like it,” Lise commented absentmindedly.
“What do you think the odds will be of them manufacturing and delivering a device to the surface?” Jordie asked.
“That’s impossible to judge, Jordie, but my guess is that they’ll be successful. We’re talking about aliens who are comfortable transiting between worlds on a beam of light. They’re probably pretty certain it’s going to work.”
“Do you want them stopped?” Jordie asked.
“No, that’s not the right approach,” Lise replied, staring out her office’s rear window. “There’s too much chance of things going wrong if humans or aliens are killed. I suspect the Annie and the Belle will be making for the YIPS when they leave Triton. In the end, our adversaries aren’t the aliens. It’s who we’ll face in the negotiations over access to the new land once the alien devices make significant progress.”
“Harbour and Cinders,” Jordie supplied.
“And that’s who we need to embarrass,” Lise said, turning from the window. “Jordie, work up some scenarios for me to review that you’re sure you can put into operation at a moment’s notice. At their core, they need to put Harbour and Cinders’ people at odds with the aliens.”
“Suspicion, anger, distrust,” Jordie listed.
“Exactly. Get to work on it, Jordie. You’ve probably got several weeks before we execute one of your plans,” Lise replied.
-29-
Introductions
After boarding the Belle, Olivia was left to her own devices and was content with the arrangement. Unfortunately, her tiny kitchenette’s food stock ran out after three days.
As opposed to Olivia’s preferences to remain isolated, Sasha wanted to pull the engineer out of her cabin on day one, but Lindsey had cautioned patience.
Harbour was anxious to talk to Olivia too, but she heeded Lindsey’s advice.
On the morning of the fourth day, with Olivia staring at an empty cooler, Lindsey knocked on the engineer’s cabin door.
“You haven’t by any chance brought me food, have you?” Olivia called out.
“No, but we’ll take you to some,” Lindsey replied, shouting through the door. “It’s going to be a morning meal with the captain.”
When Lindsey and Sasha didn’t hear a response, Sasha said, in her high-pitched youthful voice, “It’s going to be you and three empaths. How hard can that be, Olivia?”
The women heard some movement, and then the cabin door slowly opened. Olivia stood there in her skins and deck shoes, with a scarf laid over her head and tied underneath her chin.
Sasha offered her hand, and Olivia quickly took it, welcoming the reassurance that filled her mind. Sasha’s emanations were like a beam that swept through everyone in front of them. Spacers, empaths, and residents happily smiled and greeted the women. Olivia was tempted to return the pleasantries, but her face would twist in a frightening grimace if she tried to smile.
At the captain’s quarters, Harbour met the three women at the door and invited them inside. The table was already set for four, and there was no one else in sight, much to Olivia’s relief.
Harbour felt Sasha’s heavy broadcast. She subtly hand signaled Lindsey to shut down, having detected some of Lindsey’s efforts.
Rather than argue with Sasha in front of Olivia, Harbour decided to demonstrate a capability known only to empaths. She focused on the teenager, targeting Sasha’s gate. Slowly and increme
ntally, Harbour closed the portal through which the young woman was broadcasting.
Sasha perceived it was Harbour’s power that attenuated her broadcast. Being the willful individual that she was, she fought it but not with malice. Sasha was curious more than anything. She wanted to test her strength against Harbour. When her gate closed, despite her best efforts, she smiled. To the teenager, it meant there were more talents to explore and more power to accumulate.
In the meantime, Harbour approached Olivia until she stood directly in front of the woman. There were no more broadcasts from the empaths, and Harbour witnessed anxiety creep across Olivia’s face.
“I’m told you’re the best fabrication engineer and metallurgist we have,” Harbour said gently.
Olivia stood transfixed, as the captain reached out, untied her scarf, and carefully removed it from her head.
“Are you?” Harbour asked, when the engineer failed to reply. “Because that’s what I need … the best. That’s what Pyre needs.”
Olivia stared back at the captain’s cool gray eyes, which seemed to demand an answer and a truthful one at that. “I’m not a boastful woman, Captain,” Olivia finally said. “But I’ve been told that so many times by my peers that I have accepted it as so.”
“Good,” Harbour replied. She turned toward the table, saying, “Let’s eat. I’m starved, and, while we enjoy this food, let’s talk about what I hope you can accomplish with the Jatouche.”
When Olivia chose to take a seat at the far end of the table, Harbour pulled out a chair next to her, and said, “Please, Olivia, sit near me so we can talk.”
To Olivia’s horror, the chair Harbour indicated would place her ruined side toward the captain. Eating in company was one of the most embarrassing moments for her to manage. Food had a way of escaping from the left side of her mouth, where the ungainly lips had no muscle control or nerves.
Harbour locked eyes with Olivia again, when the engineer hesitated to take the seat she offered. “You’re a brilliant engineer with a disfigured face, Olivia,” Harbour said, her voice quiet but firm, “but, at least you’re thought of as human, a normal. You’re dining with three women who are empaths and aren’t even considered that. It’s time you put aside your fears. All of us, for better or worse, are what we are. The question is: Are we making the best of who we are?”
