Nua'll

by S. H. Jucha

  For the next several days, groups of children toured the Our People until the children began saying, “It looks the same as the other ship,” at which point the staff introduced the term sister-ship. When the children understood that the Our People was a copy of the Freedom, the comfortable familiarity of one ship was applied to the other, lending them a sense of stability.

  The next step for the staff was the introduction of the new facilities, which had been left off the initial tours. By and large, the children were delighted with the new accommodations. They loved the murals, the spaciousness of the dorms and the exercise rooms. Most of all, they were intrigued by the new equipment. A demonstration of a holo-vid and how to extract information from the ship’s databases to display the information had eyes popping wide.

  The children felt privileged that the facilities had been constructed specifically for them. Soon after those tours, Etoya and her staff arranged the transfer of the New Terra’s children to their new quarters.

  The New Terra’s birthing room had been emptied more than a year ago. When Etoya’s staff, with their Dischnya escorts, carried the babies to a waiting traveler, there wasn’t a single individual left aboard the colony ship but Faustus.

  Nema, Storen, and Boris had become familiar fixtures to the children. The professors constantly introduced the children to new concepts beyond their studies and often used the holo-vids to demonstrate their subjects. They were present when Etoya explained to the children that the Our People would be sailing for the home world of the Omnians, although the professors thought this announcement should have been postponed for a few months.

  To their professors’ and staff’s surprise, the children seemed unfazed by the concept of being transferred to a new world. It was Nata, whose question allowed their teachers to understand the children’s lack of excitement. She asked, “Will we be converted there?”

  Pain shot through the heart of every adult.

  “No,” Etoya said, as gently as she could. “Why would you think that?”

  “Ude says that you have things in your heads,” Nata replied. “We thought the big man … um, Alex … controlled you.”

  Ude ducked his head. He’d tried to explain to Nata the tool that Omnians carried in their heads. To his embarrassment, something had been lost in conversation.

  Etoya appeared at a loss for words, and Boris stepped in to explain. “We carry tiny implants up here,” the professor said tapping his temple. “We use them to talk to each other with our thoughts, and we can do many other amazing things with them. But, and this is important, every human has a choice. They don’t have to accept an implant if they don’t wish one. And another thing, we can’t control another human with these implants.”

  “Let me show you what these tiny devices can do for you,” Storen said. “Nata, can you smile for me?” he asked. When the teenager gave him a tentative smile, he said, “Oh, that won’t do, and he screwed up his face, making the girl laugh.”

  Immediately, Storen activated the holo-vid and sent the short vid of Nata to the display. The children crowded around the holo-vid, oohing and ahhing. After that, they clamored to be seen on the holo-vid, and it became a game of who could be seen as the goofiest or the funniest.

  When the children had an opportunity to see their images in the holo-vid, Nema quietly asked Nata, “What do you think?”

  “Our choice?” Nata asked, requesting confirmation.

  “Your choice,” Nema said, taking the teenager’s hand in hers. “I promise.”

  “What else can it do?” Nata requested, tentatively tapping her temple.

  After the children were asleep for the night and the babies napping for a few hours, the professors and Etoya’s staff gathered for a short conference.

  “I must offer my apologies, Sers,” Etoya said to Nema, Storen, and Boris. “I thought of these children as young ones who would benefit from my experience in the crèches. And, while that’s so, it has lacked a broader view.”

  “An apology isn’t necessary,” Nema said, laying her hand on the elderly Méridien’s shoulder.

  “We do have the benefit of some extraordinary experiences, Etoya,” Boris explained. “Recall that we’re from Sol. The Harakens and their technology were a shock to us. Creating Espero’s university was a challenge in more ways than one.”

  “But, you followed Alex to Omnia,” a staff member pointed out.

  “Once you’ve encountered such life-changing events, you get rather addicted to them,” Storen said. His broad smile indicated that he would probably live out his life chasing one challenging opportunity after another.

  “Well, I would never have thought the wild ones would think they were headed for a world where they would be subsumed, as they approached adulthood,” Etoya lamented, shaking her head.

  “I’ve adopted the idea that we’re all alien to each other,” Boris said. “By that, I mean that we can’t truly know one another. That concept becomes even more understandable when you start considering the sentients that we’ve encountered. For instance, the Dischnya are adapting Omnian technology and imitating our culture, but exactly how are they incorporating these things into their minds’ frameworks?”

  “What I get from what you’re saying, Boris, is that our mistake has been to think of these children, especially the teenagers and the wild ones, as human children,” a staffer said.

  Boris nodded, and Etoya added, “They appear human but carry attitudes that might be an amalgam of alien and human.” She expected to receive nods of agreement. Instead the professors appeared pained by her comment.

  “What?” Etoya asked.

  One of Etoya’s staff members, a middle-aged woman known for her facile mind, said, “I think the point the professors are trying to teach us is that we should think of these children as possessing an entirely alien mind.” She looked up at the university administrators, who expressed regrettable agreement.

  “But, we’ll be able to slowly bring them around to thinking as humans,” Etoya insisted.

  “The babies and youngest children will be fully assimilated,” Nema said. “The older a child, the more likely that will never happen. They might be perfect imitators of our culture, but they’ll never feel completely comfortable with us.”

  Etoya appeared deflated.

  “It’s similar to the Dischnya,” Boris explained. “Homsaff and her warriors are true representatives of their culture, who have borrowed our ways. No one completely understands how they think on any one subject until they express their opinions.”

  Nema made a noise like she wished to take exception to Boris’ statement, and he quickly amended it to say, “Unless we’re talking about Alex.”

  “Who isn’t considered human, anyway,” a staffer remarked, repeating the old rumor, which generated soft laughter.

  “My point,” Boris continued, “is that the Dischnya’s pups will have great claws in both worlds, and their pups will probably completely inhabit humankind’s worlds. The Dischnya ancient culture will probably become somewhat alien to them.”

  “I can’t believe it,” Etoya said, resigned to the professors’ explanations.

  “What?” Nema asked.

  “Alex only toured the colony ship occasionally. Then, within a period of months, he makes a series of decisions to request transport and accommodations for the children. Furthermore, he’s made arrangements to keep the children aboard this ship, while they continue their education. How did he see that far into the future?”

  “Experience, Etoya,” Nema said. “As an adult, he encountered a SADE for the first time. He’s met two groups of Swei Swee. He brought peace to the Dischnya nests, and he communicated with sentients who appeared as walking flowers. If anyone understands the difficulty of sentients adopting the ways of another culture, he does.”

  “Well, I’m happy that I had your wonderful presence today,” Etoya said, leaning back in her chair, happy with their success. “I admit that I was decked by Nata’s statement, but ev
erything went well with the demonstrations of the implants.” Once again, Etoya didn’t get the responses she expected. “Now, what did I miss?” she asked.

  “A trick we first adopted with Haraken university students,” Storen explained, “was to keep the class list handy. We used it as a tick list for every lesson, in class or assigned.”

  “I don’t understand,” a staffer protested.

  “When the holo-vid demonstration started with Nata’s image, you can be sure that each of my colleagues checked her off the list. Am I right?” Storen asked Nema and Boris, who nodded their agreement.

  “And?” the staffer persisted.

  “One child didn’t participate,” Nema said.

  “Who?” Etoya asked.

  “Ude,” Boris replied, proving Storen’s pronouncement of the technique.

  “You do this for every lesson?” a staffer asked, but she didn’t get an answer because Etoya waved for quiet.

  Etoya wanted to ask the professors if they were sure but realized the impertinence of the question. Instead, she worked to accommodate the various points of the evening’s discussion. “Using your terminology,” she said, “Ude would possess the most alien mind.”

  “No more than Nata or any of the older children,” Boris corrected. “Ude adds a factor that isn’t part of the other children’s makeup. He was a leader. Actually, he still is, because the wild ones look up to him. When my class list was complete, except for his name, I caught him sitting toward the back of the dorm. He was scowling and lost in thought.”

  “What do you think that means?” Etoya asked.

  “I don’t think it had anything to do with the subject of implants,” Nema proposed. “Ude was already aware of them, even if he didn’t completely understand them. No, I think that he reacted to the announcement that this ship is sailing to Omnia.”

  “Why would he have a problem with that?” Etoya asked.

  “We’ll have to ask him,” Storen offered.

  * * *

  “Alex, we have a malcontent of the first order,” Boris said. He and others were present in Alex’s suite.

  “Who?” Alex asked.

  “Ude,” Etoya replied, her exasperation evident. “We’ve tried to reason with him, Alex, but he doesn’t hear us.” She was about to continue, but Alex held up a hand to forestall her.

  “Nema,” Alex said.

  “He’s incredibly stubborn,” Nema replied. “He won’t be swayed.”

  “Storen,” Alex said.

  “During the flight back to Omnia, Ude will poison the development of the other children,” Storen said. “The wild ones look up to Ude, and his anger will disrupt their socialization.”

  “The professors have suggested a possible final intervention,” Etoya blurted out. “It’s you, Alex.”

  Alex glanced across the faces of Nema, Boris, and Storen. They were in agreement with Etoya. “And if I’m unable to dissuade him from his destructive path?” Alex asked.

  Etoya ducked her head, resigned to the inevitable answer.

  Storen said, “Ude would have to be permanently separated from the other children.”

  “Alex, we thought that if anyone could understand a ferociously independent-minded upstart, you could,” Nema said. She managed to keep a fairly neutral expression, but her eyes crinkled with humor.

  Renée was happy to be standing behind Alex, who was seated. It hid her smile from him.

  “When do you want me to meet with him?” Alex asked, sighing.

  “Julien’s waiting with him in the corridor,” Etoya quickly replied.

  “That’s my cue,” Renée said, motioning to the others to leave with her.

  Deserters of the ship, Alex thought, as if I have superlative child-rearing experience.

  After the adults left the suite, Ude stalked through the door. Everything in his demeanor indicated a teenager ready to fight. The years under the staffer’s care had served him well. Gone was the skinny, diseased eleven-year-old. Ude was healthy and had begun a growth spurt. He’d added kilos of muscle to his frame. But the telling change was in the teenager’s eyes. They were no longer furtive, wary of every movement around him. Determination shone through them like a fighter pilot facing the enemy.

  Immediately, Alex shifted his attitude. Instead of considering Ude a child who needed redirecting, he thought of him as an insubordinate trainee.

  Ude took a defiant stance in front of Alex and drew breath to speak, but Alex cut him off with an upraised hand and ordered in a command voice, “Sit.”

  Ude hesitated and then relented. He sat stiffly, as if he begrudged the order.

  “What’s your problem, Ude?” Alex asked bluntly. It was a harsher opening than Alex wanted to employ, but Ude’s disposition required a strong approach.

  “I don’t want to go to Omnia,” Ude declared.

  “What do you want?” Alex asked.

  The question threw Ude off balance. He’d expected to be told how to behave, what to do, and where he should go. No one had asked him what he wanted.

  Alex watched Ude deflate. The boy’s shoulders eased, and the anger in his eyes faded. He placed a thumbnail against his teeth, while he considered his response.

  “I want to hurt the aliens that made Faustus,” Ude replied. He said it quietly, but there was metal in his voice.

  “You want revenge for what was done to your band and the other children,” Alex said just as quietly.

  “Does revenge mean the aliens would be killed?” Ude asked.

  “That can be one of the outcomes,” Alex explained.

  “Then I want revenge,” Ude declared.

  “Too bad, Ude, I don’t support revenge,” Alex said, his eyes locking on Ude’s.

  “You have a fleet of warships, yes?” Ude asked.

  “Yes,” Alex replied.

  “You have them to kill the aliens, yes?” Ude persisted.

  “Only if they force me to fight,” Alex explained. “Otherwise, I hope my ships will make the aliens listen to me, take my words seriously.”

  “What will you tell them if they listen to you?” Ude asked. He shifted forward on his seat, intent on Alex’s answer.

  Alex anticipated they’d reached a tipping point and that the remainder of the conversation would have a great impact on Ude’s future.

  “We’ve learned that a digital entity by the name of Artifice created Faustus. We’ve also learned that Artifice is the leader of an extensive number of alien races, who wish to expand their territory across every habitable world,” Alex explained. “Do you understand these words?” he asked.

  “Artifice leads the aliens, and Artifice wants your worlds,” Ude translated.

  Alex nodded in agreement, and he also noted that Ude referred to humankind’s worlds in the second person, which he understood.

  “This expedition travels to meet with Artifice. I’ll say to the entity that it can’t have our worlds,” Alex said.

  “That’s it?” Ude asked, confused.

  “Yes,” Alex replied. He leaned back and watched Ude roll Alex’s words around in his mind.

  “You’ll wait to hear what Artifice says,” Ude suddenly replied, his eyes lighting up. “You want to know what the alien thinks.” Just as quickly as Ude had become animated, he quieted, a frown forming on his forehead. He’d understood the opening words, but he was unable to understand the choices the alien’s response would offer Alex. One thing did occur to him, and he seized on it. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I want a safe future for all sentients,” Alex replied.

  “And what if Artifice says no to you?” Ude asked.

  “Then I will find a way to force Artifice to agree,” Alex said, his voice low and powerful. “Understand, Ude, my first choice is not to fight. It would be a fight we couldn’t win, but I will find a way to make Artifice listen.”

  “When I led the band, I didn’t fight,” Ude said thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. “We couldn’t win. We stayed alive by being q
uiet, by doing what Faustus didn’t expect.”

  “Yes, you did,” Alex agreed.

  “Then I will go with you to talk to Artifice,” Ude announced.

  In Alex’s mind, the boy had demonstrated the ability to quickly incorporate new information and shift his perspective accordingly. Alex had no doubt that if Ude wanted to, he could disrupt the entire roster of the Our People.

  “I’m the expedition’s leader. Individuals ask my permission to travel with me,” Alex said.

  Alex saw anger flare in Ude’s eyes, but it was instantly extinguished.

  “How is this done?” Ude asked.

  “Repeat after me,” Alex replied, keeping a smile off his face. “I would like to ask your permission to travel aboard the Freedom with you.”

  A smile broke out on Ude’s face after he completed the sentence, but it was dashed, when Alex said, “No.

  Before the boy could explode, Alex continued. “I say no, because I don’t think you can follow my rules. You’ve already shown that you won’t listen to your teachers.”

  “But they ask for things from me that I don’t want to give,” Ude objected.

  “Then what will be the difference between living with them and living with me?” Alex asked.

  The question stumped Ude. He had to admit that the huge leader had a good point, and he tried to understand what the difference would be. The teachers told him that his anger was destructive and would be his undoing, although he didn’t understand what that meant. They tried to teach him ways to control the darkness that welled up inside him, but that only seemed to deepen his resolve to focus on it. He thought now of relenting and rejoining the others for the trip to Omnia, but that fueled his anger. Confusion flooded through Ude. His simple world of daily survival had become too complex to fathom.

  Alex watched tears brim in Ude’s eyes. They floated there and then coursed down the boy’s face. The tears continued to run, and Ude made no move to wipe them away. The energy seemed to drain out of him. Alex expected that the teenager didn’t see a future for himself aboard either city-ship.

  “You won’t have a satisfactory life aboard the Our People, Ude. I see that now,” Alex said gently. “I don’t know if your life will be any better aboard this ship, but I see it as the only hope you have. I will tell you now that you will not like my rules, but, if you try hard enough, you might find a comfortable place among the individuals aboard this ship.”