“I used to play here as a child,” she explained. “Our ancestor built it as a refuge from the weather when they first explored this part of Niobe. No one uses it anymore.”
Scott marveled at the structure with its rough logs and planking. Despite its weathered look, it had sturdy walls.
They sat next to each other on the bench. He ran his hand along the wood and put his arm around Ariela. “The ocher hue of the wood grain is quite pleasing.”
“After the extinction event, these trees re-sprouted, as did a few other plants. Evolution and the few plants our ancestors brought with them produced the variety of plants we now have. When they first arrived, they built with wood.” She drew close to him, sharing the pleasing warmth of her body. “A few decades after our ancestors arrived, they discovered how to stimulate trees to grow in the shapes they wanted. Now we don’t need to cut them down. Within six months we have basic shelter, and within another year a full-sized home.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, and with expectation in her voice said, “Do you have any news from Earth?”
“No, I don’t really think any will arrive for at least another week. In my last report, I told my superiors what we found here. They need some time to decide on our next set of orders. No doubt they’ll have many questions about Niobe.” He gave her a gentle hug.
She lifted her eyes toward him. “If it keeps you here a while longer, I hope they have many more questions.”
“There is one important question they may ask, and the answer may make a difference on how they view Niobe and how long I stay.” Scott leaned back but kept his eyes on her. “Do your books tell of a project named Prometheus?”
Ariela’s hazel eyes focused intently on him for a long moment. She paused and took a breath. “Proconsul told me of your interest and said I may discuss it with you. When our ancestors came from Earth, they brought a device of great destruction. They called it Prometheus. We rarely speak of it. The name refers to an instrument of dominance and war, and as such it is anathema to our society. Our ancestors feared the nations of Earth would misuse its power. They decided they couldn’t leave it behind, and so they brought it with them.”
“Does it still exist?”
“It still exists. You must discuss this with Proconsul. He can tell you more.”
Guilt tugged at his conscience, borne of the fear he had used her for his gain. On the other hand, if Niobian society eschewed violence, such a weapon would be of little use to them. Their Tradition prevented them from dominating one another, and they couldn’t use a weapon of any kind.
“I’m sorry,” he said, averting his gaze, “if my questions sound too bold.”
“It’s of no matter. If it helps you with your superiors, they may let you stay longer, and I’ll see more of you. Do you think you could live on Niobe? I’d like for you to stay.”
“I serve in the Panhelion military, and leaving the service is not easy.”
She set her gaze on Scott. “You say it’s not easy. Then there is a chance you might stay here with us? But if you... if you could stay...” Her eyes misted over.
“Ariela, I was not brought up in your Tradition. Like the people of Earth, I tend to dominate others, and Proconsul explained to me your society doesn’t tolerate this.”
“Scott, tell me, on Earth if one has an intense affection for another, that is love, is it not?”
“We have that in common with our cousins on Niobe.” He took her hand, pressed it to his lips and caught the scent of lavender.
His melancholy grew more intense. Even if he could persuade his headquarters to let him bring her back, he worried that she could never be happy on Earth. And he could never be part of her culture. His dilemma widened with each passing thought.
The people of Niobe would never accept him.
Earth
~~~
Behind a gleaming black table centered on a long dais, Meath Fitzsimons, President of the Panhelion Senate, chaired a special session of the Senate Committee for Interstellar Matters. High above and behind him, the gold, eight-pointed star of the Panhelion graced the wall. Gray-haired and in a black and silver official jacket, he stared down from his perch at the two admirals seated at the table before his committee.
He gaveled the meeting to order. “We welcome Admirals Jestin Delmar of Interstellar Exploration Command, and Andre Camus of Panhelion Defense Command, to this special executive session and to the Senate’s inquiry into the discovery of survivors from the Themis.” He glanced to both sides, receiving the expected nods of approval from the members of his committee. “Admiral Delmar, the committee members and I have read your report about these remarkable discoveries. Not only have you found the descendants of the Themis survivors, but you report the discovery of a remarkable new phenomenon in space-time.”
“If I may,” Camus interjected out of turn. “We can’t be sure they’re descendants of the Themis expedition. Despite appearances, we don’t yet know who they are.”
Delmar broke his silence. “Admiral Camus overstates the case. The captain of the Pegasus used the Enhanced Turing Interrogator and concluded the beings contacted were in fact—”
“The Interrogator isn’t foolproof.” Camus blustered in a huff. “We must be absolutely certain of whom we are dealing with.”
“Point taken, Admiral. Shall we say presumed descendants then?” Fitzsimons stared directly at Camus and cocked his brow. “If they’re not descendants of Themis survivors, who are they?”
“Mister President, I hesitate to say it, but they may be impostors.” Camus tugged at his Prussian collar. “We must consider the possibility that they’re an unknown alien intelligence impersonating Themis survivors in order to lure us into a trap.”
President Fitzsimons glared across the room as the animosity between the two admirals frayed his nerves. “A bit far-fetched, don’t you think, Admiral Camus? We’ve explored space for four hundred years and haven’t found evidence of alien intelligent life, much less of hostile intelligence.”
“Yes, but we’ve never explored this deep before, and I remind the Committee that the latest New SETI probability shows we are well overdue for alien contact. The fact that we haven’t encountered alien intelligence doesn’t mean it’s not—”
Fitzsimons raised his hand, halting Camus’ tirade. “Let’s get on with Admiral Delmar’s report. That’s why we’re here.”
Camus steamed, but thought better of confronting the president and fell silent. He’d make his point more forcefully at a later time.
Delmar straightened his posture and glanced at the notes on his personal e-projector. “Mister President, the probability that these are alien impostors is unlikely in the extreme.” He ignored his counterpart, who quietly scowled. “In my report you’ll notice the question posed is, how do we deal with these presumed human descendants? What sort of relationship do we establish with them?”
Fitzsimons crossed his arms and rocked back in his chair. “In the joint appendix to the report, the two of you have some suggestions. Have you not?”
Delmar addressed his rival. “Andre, would you care to lead the response to the President’s question?”
Camus eyed Delmar with suspicion, then twisted back toward Fitzsimons. “Certainly, Mister President. We have four options, the first of which is an extreme measure. We could launch a decisive, preemptive attack on the Niobians to destroy any military capability they have before they can attack us.”
“A preemptive attack on fellow humans?” Fitzsimons rolled his eyes and glared down from the dais at Camus. “Unthinkable. The Senate would never approve. No, it’s out of the question. You must forget this idea.”
Camus returned the President’s stare. “Senator, I mentioned it only as an extreme option, but it may prove necessary if we discover that these people, or beings, are hostile and if they have the means and intent to strike us militarily.” With a smug face, he studied the senator for a reaction.
Delmar shook his head. “
Mister President, if I may, we have more realistic alternatives to deal with these survivors, again presuming they are who they say they are. I’ve outlined several, more practical approaches than the severe step proposed by my colleague.” He counted out his points on his fingers. “If we determine they’re human survivors or descendants and pose no threat to us, and so far all indications are that their intentions are peaceful, we can offer to return them to Earth or one of Earth’s settlements. In essence, we evacuate them from Niobe and repatriate them.” He took hold of another finger. “Second, if they wish to remain on Niobe, we can offer them colony status, or some variation of it. Third, if they wish to stay on their planet, we allow them to do so as an independent authority. In other words, we leave them pretty much as they are now.”
Camus bristled and shifted round in his chair. “Mister President, may I remind the senators that the security of the Panhelion and our humanity may be at stake. We must be on our guard.” He paused and tipped his head back. “I’ve no objection to Admiral Delmar’s suggestions, but for our safety there must be a caveat. With the President’s permission, I propose all Panhelion offers, either evacuation or colony status, include one condition.” He put his elbows on the table and narrowed his eyes. “They must allow us to inspect their planet for military capability. If they prove to be a threat, we take decisive steps to neutralize or destroy them.”
Fitzsimons locked a stern gaze on Camus. “Let’s have no further talk of preemptive strikes on fellow humans unless you can show us concrete evidence that they are a genuine and immediate threat to our existence. Now, as to this third option, where we leave them pretty much as they are and treat them as an independent nation, how would that be done?”
Camus spoke up to protest where the discussion was headed. “If they refuse, we quarantine them. It’s easy enough to do. We have only to secure the entry point to this... this time gradient.” His slight grin revealed that he was rather pleased with his analysis and solution. “It’s a simple matter. We bottle them up tight inside. We just station a heavy cruiser at the exit, and refuse to let anyone in or out.”
The senator touched his lips with the tips of his steepled fingers, and eyed the two admirals. “That seems rather drastic, but it may be a prudent course of action. Admiral Delmar, does Exploration Command agree with this approach?”
Delmar leaned forward. “I don’t like it. It puts us in the position of giving the Niobians an ultimatum, which may harden their attitude toward us. If we ever need their support, they may not give it. Our prospects improve if we use diplomacy to get what we want.” He paused and glanced up at the dias to make certain he had the senator’s attention before he continued. “Captain Scott Drumond, in command of the corvette Pegasus, is on Niobe now. With direction from us, he can handle the matter.”
Camus’ nostrils flared, and he pounded both his fists on the table. “No! Impossible. Unacceptable. Drumond has no diplomatic training. He can’t be trusted with a situation this important. He’ll put us in danger. I know from personal experience that he’s disobeyed orders before.” He sneered and dismissed the possibility. “And besides, what support would we ever need from the Niobians? According to the report from Pegasus, they don’t believe in any type of dominance. With our forces, we could subdue them in a matter of hours if not minutes.”
Delmar half stood and stared at Camus. “Nonsense. I personally chose Drumond for this mission because I trust him. In any case, it would take many months for an ambassador to reach Niobe and become familiar with the situation there. We have no realistic alternative, and Andre, don’t be so sure that they have nothing of use to us.”
Camus fumed in silence, his face a reddish, purple hue.
“I think I speak for the committee,” Fitzsimons continued with a wry smile, “when I say we are pleased that your two commands are cooperating on this issue. I’ll take your suggestions to the Senate at large, but I have no reason to think they will object to these offers.” He rotated his head right and then left. After noting the nods of approval, he said, “Do any of the members of the committee have anything further?”
The other members shook their heads.
He announced, “Ladies, gentlemen, the session is adjourned.”
Two weeks later, Eisler rushed into Delmar’s office out of breath. “Admiral, the Panhelion Senate approved the recommendations you made regarding Drumond’s appointment as Ambassador to Niobe and the offers to be made.”
Delmar calmly read the message. A broad smile broke out on his face. “Prepare a message for Captain Drumond informing him of the Senate’s decision and of his promotion to Ambassador Pro Tem. Make sure you include the Senate’s additional instructions for alliance options with the Niobians, and get it out to him this afternoon.”
He sat back in his chair and rubbed his hands. “Now that Drumond has permission to begin official face-to-face discussions with Proconsul Wimund, I have a curious feeling that the Niobians may be in a position to offer us great help.”
Niobe
~~~
A high-pitched tone from the portal to his temporary quarters in the Refectory alerted Scott, rousing him from a deep sleep.
When he answered, Anton burst in waving his assist pad. “Captain, I’m sorry for the intrusion. We’ve received a priority and rather lengthy ECCO communication from Earth. I placed the file in your private memory cache.” Anton’s eyes blinked like a Morse lamp as the junior officer faced Scott.
“Stay here in case I have a reply.” Scott rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. At his desk, he activated his projector and read the message, his eyes widening, and he tightened his grip on the chair arm. For a moment, his mind reeled until he grasped the full importance of the message.
Anton furrowed his brow as if puzzled by Scott’s delayed response. “Is there a reply?”
“No... not now. Make sure you’re available and close by for the rest of the day. I’ll have a reply later. Tell Klaas and Marie to cancel their plans to visit outside the Refectory, and let them know they’re also to stay close to the ops center.” He activated the document creator. A second later, a sheet of foil curled out the slot.
He refocused his gaze on Anton and waved an arm. “Wait, go over to the chancellor’s office and tell him I urgently need to see Proconsul Wimund.”
Anton scurried out and on his way.
Thirty minutes later, word arrived on his implant communicator: Proconsul would receive him within the hour.
Scott donned his formal uniform, stood in front of the camera in his workstation, and critically studied his projected image. He smoothed his white, linen tunic like a bird preening itself before a prospective mate, and then marched off to the chancellor’s office.
He fingered his cuff in a bit of last-minute nervous grooming as he waited beside the portal.
Linghtaz appeared and eyed him with a puzzled expression. “Proconsul will see you now.” He motioned for Scott to enter.
Proconsul blanked the projected display on his worktable and lifted his head. He looked up and down at Scott and his formal uniform.
Scott acknowledged with a slight bow. “Proconsul, I appreciate you receiving me on such short notice. I believe the news I’ve received from Earth is worth the interruption.”
Wimund gaped at his visitor for a moment and rose from his seat. He walked around his table and offered Scott a chair next to the small stream that ran through his office.
The sound of splashing water reminded Scott that, with abundant water, the Niobians often incorporated it into their interior designs to create a distinct outdoor ambiance.
“Now, what’s this urgent matter you have for me? I see you’re in formal dress, which makes me curious about the reason for your visit.”
Scott remained standing and presented the small roll of foil. “An official document from the Senate of the Panhelion. I received it two hours ago along with instructions to present it to you as soon as possible.”
Wimund broke the seal and
unwound the scroll. He studied the words with a tilt of his head and stroked his chin. His expression broke out in a broad grin as he turned to Linghtaz. “Well, Chancellor, it seems we have the first Ambassador from Earth before us. Congratulations are in order, and Ambassador Drumond, I must say I think the Senate made a wise choice when they selected you for this high honor.”
The proconsul’s expression turned somber. “We officially accept your bona fides. What do you say, Chancellor? Would a brief ceremony be in order to celebrate Ambassador Drumond’s new office? But Ambassador, you must do something about your uniform. It still carries the rank of captain. Our tailors can design something more appropriate.”
The chancellor nodded in vigorous agreement. “I’ll make the arrangements now,” he promised, and hurried to the outer office.
Scott returned Wimund’s smile. “Thank you, Proconsul. Diplomatic formalities are new to me, but I think proper diplomatic dress may be a simple civilian tunic with a modest flourish. What do you think?”
Wimund lifted his head. “You learn quickly. A valuable trait for a diplomat.”
The crew of Pegasus gathered in a corner of the Refectory terrace for the modest celebration. With their tradition of good manners, the Niobians served an assortment of exotic fruits, sliced melons and peach-like delicacies, along with a selection of spiced vegetable hors d’oeuvres.
To Scott’s delight, Ariela attended, wearing a forest-green sheath dress. She strolled onto the terrace flanked by her escorts, Chancellor Linghtaz on one side and Proconsul on the other. From across the tables, she continually sought eye contact with Scott, but in front of his crew and for appearances sake, she kept a discrete distance.
Proconsul gave a speech congratulating Scott on his appointment, and expressed his wish for peaceful relations with Earth.
With the formal remarks concluded, Anton politely excused himself from Klaas and Marie. He approached Scott and spoke softly into his ear. “I think I’ve discovered how the ECCO compromise occurred.”
Shroud of Eden (Panhelion Chronicles Book 1) Page 16
