Not much else to report. We’ll arrive at Derovia in 4-5 weeks. Talk to you soon, Dad.
Love,
C
CHAPTER 6
Captain Ferguson removed her canteen from its small holster and set it down on her desk. She sat down in her large black chair and turned on her viewer, giving Yamamoto a quick glance. Upon seeing his expression, she stopped what she was doing.
“What’s wrong?”
“We have company.”
“Company?”
“The on-duty helmsman just contacted me,” Yamamoto said. “A small ship has positioned itself near our starboard landing bays.”
“Let me guess,” she said, sitting back in her chair, a gleam in her eye. “The fueling station manager miscalculated the currency conversion and believes we owe him money.” She shook her head. “It’s amazing that no station manager ever sends armed workers to refund ships that overpaid.”
“It’s not the fueling manager this time.”
Ferguson’s expression changed. “Who are they and what do they want?”
“They’re Korvali. And they want to speak with you.”
Ferguson began to speak, but said nothing. She sat up straight, gazing out her window, as if hoping to see them. “Show them in.”
Yamamoto nodded and turned to leave.
“Scan them thoroughly,” she added as the door shut behind him.
“Ensign,” he spoke into his contactor. “Send four Masters-at-Arms to join me on the hangar deck. Right now.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He contacted the communications center. “Shanti, clear the visiting ship to land. Starboard bay two. I will arrive momentarily.”
“Yes, Commander,” Shanti’s voice replied.
Waiting behind the glass barrier, Yamamoto ordered one of the MAs to open the bay door. A Sunai ship entered the bay and set down as the bay door closed behind it. After a few moments, two very tall robed figures emerged from the craft, while the Sunai pilot remained. They had very short hair, as Eshel did, but theirs was paler in color. Their robes differed from those Yamamoto had seen in the past, and from Eshel’s. They were black and plain, with a crest near the right side of the upper torso. They also wore belts around their thin middles, presumably to store weapons. The MA asked them to remove their belts; they did so without argument. Yamamoto realized the men represented the Korvali Guard.
One of the MAs ordered the Korvali to stay put, as he scanned them for weapons and biological agents. The scans were clear, giving the two men permission to enter the ship.
Yamamoto looked up at the tall Guardsmen, making eye contact with both and offering them a nod. “I am Commander Yamamoto, Executive Officer of the Cornelia. Welcome.” He didn’t offer his hand. The two men looked at Yamamoto with their pale eyes. “I understand you desire a meeting with the Captain.”
“That is correct,” the older of the two men replied, his accent thick.
Yamamoto led them, with the four MAs in tow, to Ferguson’s office. Two MAs remained outside her door while the others followed Yamamoto inside and stood on the periphery.
Ferguson emerged from behind her desk to greet the Guardsmen. She nodded to them and each Guardsman offered a slight nod in return. Yamamoto gestured for the two men to sit in the two available chairs. Ferguson resumed her seat, while Yamamoto stood aside.
“I’m Captain Ferguson,” she said. The two men remained silent, offering no names. “How can we help you?”
The elder Guardsman spoke. “We have come to inquire about a group of our citizens you reported to have found.” The Captain nodded, and waited for him to continue. “The Korvali appreciate your report of the dead, and also your candor about offering asylum for our surviving citizen. Is he well?”
A look of almost pleasant surprise crossed her face. “Yes… yes, he is quite well, thank you.”
“If you are expecting that we came here to make threats regarding our citizen, or otherwise try to retrieve him by force, that is not our goal.”
“Then what is?”
“The Korvali prefer to keep accurate death records, for our government’s purposes, and for those clanspeople with whom the escapees share genetic bonds. We request the identities of the deceased, as well as the survivor.”
Ferguson nodded. “I see. Why make the long trip here, rather than simply ask for that information?”
“We felt a personal meeting was preferable, for many reasons,” the younger Guardsman said, speaking for the first time. “The Korvali devote much time and energy to caring for all of its citizens. We are… concerned… about one of our people wandering the galaxy with none of his own kind to guide him. It is our way.”
“I understand. But with all due respect,” Ferguson said, sitting back in her chair, “if that’s the case, why didn’t you pursue and retrieve the escapees after you launched your attack against them? Why did you let them go?”
The younger Guardsman gazed at her with grayish eyes, the intense stare that was similar to Eshel’s. The room seemed to quiet. Yamamoto watched as Ferguson worked to maintain the Guardsman’s stare. Other than a couple of blinks, she didn’t break eye contact. He finally spoke, his voice a hair colder than before. “We live in a technologically simple society, Captain. We lack the resources to chase a ship across such a distance. As you know, our customs differ from yours. Again, we request the identities of our citizens.”
“I will get you the information you request,” Ferguson replied, glancing at Yamamoto. “Give me a moment.” A small viewer arose from the top of her desk. She browsed through several directories and pressed the pads of her fingers to the screen when necessary. The document, written up by Vargas, with Eshel’s input, listed the names of the nine dead, including the clans to which they belonged. “Do you want to see the list here, or shall I send it to you?”
“We need only to view it,” the elder replied.
Ferguson’s screen rotated until it faced the two Guardsmen. They peered at it briefly.
“And the surviving citizen?”
“He is mentioned in the report, below the list.”
The Guardsmen shifted their gazes down to the report. They glanced at one another, speaking a couple of words in their native language.
“We must speak to him,” the younger said.
“Unfortunately, I can’t allow that,” Ferguson said. “He’s in the Alliance’s custody, by his own request.” She grabbed her water canteen and took a swig from it. “If you tell me your concerns, perhaps I can help you or find some way to accommodate you.”
The elder Guardsman, who sat motionless, spoke up. “The one you hold on your ship, Eshel, is what humans refer to as a scientist. He is expert in our genetic technology.” He paused. “You have your policies, but we have ours. We do not share our technology with outsiders.”
“I understand. Our policy is that he’s forbidden to share any of his knowledge about genetics, an imperative he has upheld. The Alliance agrees with this policy, and violation of it would violate the terms of his asylum.”
“Why were we not informed of this information, and of his identity, at an earlier date?” the younger Guardsman asked, his tone still chilly.
“He has revealed little about himself. We didn’t know his importance to your people. Our concern was providing him asylum, while still respecting your traditions. It isn’t the Alliance’s intent to obtain Korvali technology without it being willingly offered.” She paused. “Since you’ve come all this way, I suggest you meet with the Alliance delegates on Derovia about this issue. I can arrange the meeting from here, if you prefer…”
“That will not be necessary,” the elder Guardsman said. “Eshel is… very intelligent. He is also quite treacherous. His father was a traitor and a most untrustworthy individual. You have chosen to let Eshel live among you, but be warned that you have placed yourselves in great danger.” He stood up, and the other did the same.
Ferguson, not expecting the sudden end to the meeting, awkwardl
y stood up, nodding at Yamamoto. Yamamoto nodded at the MAs, who followed him and the two Guardsmen out of Ferguson’s office.
Back at the hangar deck, with little ceremony and no verbal exchange, the Guardsmen retrieved their weapons belts and returned to their ship.
“What a couple of freaks,” one MA muttered to his comrade, who snickered. When he saw that Yamamoto watched him, the MA cleared his throat, muttered an apology, and resumed his silence.
Once the ship left and the bay door shut, Yamamoto returned to Ferguson’s office, where she would be waiting for him.
“What do you think?” Ferguson said, turning away from the window and facing him. Before he could answer, she offered her own commentary. “Maybe it was unwise to be straight with them. Perhaps I should’ve sent them to the Alliance. Let them deal with it.”
“Perhaps,” Yamamoto replied. “But we, not the Alliance, are Eshel’s caretakers. They must deal with the political implications of Eshel’s asylum, but we must deal with Eshel.”
She made a face. “Yes, which means we must deal with the Korvali. It’s as if they’re focusing on every word, looking to pick apart anything you say. But they were more reasonable than I thought they’d be, considering.”
“Agreed.” He sat down. “But something doesn’t add up. Their making such a long voyage, visiting in person…”
“Yes, and that speech about Eshel wandering the galaxy…” Ferguson shook her head.
“It’s more than that. I suspect the entire conversation was a ruse. They wanted something.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do I have reason to be concerned, Suko?”
“I know one way to find out. Ask Eshel’s opinion.”
She scowled. “For what? So he can refute what they said? I don’t trust him any more than I trust them.”
“He may offer useful information about this unexpected visit.”
She nodded in consent.
When Eshel arrived at the Captain’s office, he stood at the door and saluted, his gaze shifting from Ferguson to Yamamoto.
“At ease, Eshel,” Yamamoto said. “Please sit down. We were just paid a visit by two people from your homeworld. They were Guardsmen, seeking the identities of the deceased refugees, and yourself.”
Eshel’s eyebrows went up.
“Unfortunately,” Yamamoto went on, “we’re unaccustomed to interacting with your people. We suspect some level of deception on their part.”
“Deception is a possibility, if not a likelihood,” Eshel replied.
“We will show you a video of the conversation. Any observation you can offer would be useful.” Yamamoto used the remote to pull up the video on Ferguson’s large viewer, locating the point at which the two Guardsmen entered her office. Eshel watched the video from start to finish, his expression showing no reaction to anything he saw. When finished, he turned to Yamamoto.
“As you suspect, you were deceived. They wore the robe of the Guard, but they are not Guardsmen.”
“Do you know them?”
“I recognize them. They work for the kunsheld. The younger is Minel. I do not know the elder’s name.”
“Why would they pretend to be Guardsmen?”
“To confuse you.”
“Is there any way to detect such deception?”
“Yes,” Eshel said. “Skill with your language always indicates one who associates with those in power. The Guard do not speak other languages.”
“I thought other languages came easy for the Korvali,” Ferguson said.
“They do. But one cannot learn without exposure to the new language.”
“And the Korvali Guard aren’t exposed to outside languages?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“The Korvali are forbidden to learn the languages of outsiders, Captain. Only those given permission to leave Korvalis may learn them.”
“You said your father taught you,” Ferguson said. “He was one of these people given permission?”
Eshel’s face clouded over. “At one time, yes.”
“Why at one time, Eshel?”
Eshel paused, his eyes shifting elsewhere momentarily. “The kunsheld did not like my father and began refusing to let him attend scientific meetings on Suna.”
“And why didn’t the kunsheld like your father?”
“My father did not agree with many of the kunsheld’s policies.”
Ferguson sighed impatiently, pushing her water bottle away from her. “Eshel, why do I need to ask one thousand questions to get information out of you?”
Eshel stared at her. “You ask me questions, Captain; I answer you in truth. It is not our custom to provide superfluous information unnecessarily, nor is it our custom to obtain information by such detailed questioning.”
“Detailed questioning is something you’d better get used to if you’re going to be part of this organization.” She paused, watching Eshel. “Is your father a traitor?”
Eshel sat still in his chair, gazing at Ferguson. He said nothing.
“Answer me, soldier,” Ferguson insisted.
“I will not discuss my father. Captain.” The address came out with a bite, almost as if he were mocking her.
Yamamoto could see Ferguson’s temper beginning to flare, so he took his cue. “I hope you aren’t concerned about our having revealed your identity. You’re still under our protection, and I believe they strongly suspected that you were the one who survived.”
“It does not matter that you revealed my identity. They knew I was here the moment they stepped onto this ship.”
“How?”
“We have extremely sensitive instruments that can detect DNA fragments from shedding skin and hair. The instruments can scan large areas within minutes. I have been here long enough to leave traces of myself, including on the hangar deck, where Tom and I have visited on several occasions.”
The Captain’s face showed a flash of anger as she looked at Yamamoto. “These men were supposed to be scanned and their weapons removed.”
“They were,” Yamamoto said.
“The instrument can work passively, once initiated,” Eshel said.
“I thought your people were technologically ‘simple,’” Ferguson said. “Isn’t that the word I keep hearing? Simple?”
Eshel didn’t reply.
“Tell me this, Eshel,” she said. “Other than trying to find out if you’re the one who survived, why did these men come here?”
“To gain information about you.”
“What information?”
“Any information that will help them to reclaim me.”
“Reclaim you?” she said. “They can’t reclaim you. You’re under our protection now, and there’s nothing they can do about it.”
“You underestimate them, Captain.”
Ferguson’s lip curled. “And you underestimate us. You’re dismissed.” After Eshel left, she rose from her chair and looked out the window. “God damn it, he irritates me.”
“Is it Eshel who irritates you, or that we’ve been had by his people?”
Ferguson threw up her hands. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with, Suko. We don’t know what these people are about. Their defining characteristic, other than their arrogance, is their unwillingness to share their homeworld or their technology with us. Now we have one of them on my ship, forcing a relationship with them that they don’t want and we aren’t prepared to deal with.” She shook her head. “The Derovians are concerned we’ll offend the Korvali, the Sunai want to know why Eshel chose us over them, the Calyyt refuse to take a position, and I’ve been hounded by the press for weeks. And now we’ve weakened our position by allowing those people on my ship.”
“We’re in uncharted territory, Janice. We will make mistakes. We need to be glad the consequences were no more severe than our having been hoodwinked.” He paused. “Thus far, we’ve had the luxury of avoiding these issues.”
Ferguson sat bac
k down. “We’ve put ourselves at risk by giving him a home here. All this trouble for a kid who talks to us like we’re his goddamn inferiors!”
“That’s just his way,” Yamamoto reasoned. “Besides, you’re the one who approved his application for officer’s training.”
She gave a wry smile. “How could I refuse? He’s bright and hardworking, and at least he’s not squandering his abilities in the science labs. The Corps wants more otherworlders. They’ll reward us for recruiting the first Korvali officer in history and the Alliance will love us for it.” She shrugged. “And the sooner we train him, the more control we have over him. The rewards are worth the risks… if he can manage to get along with people.”
“Tom likes him.”
“Thank God.” She gave a throaty laugh. “Ov’Raa was so worried when we assigned Eshel to Weapons, expecting he would clash with Tom… and somehow the opposite has happened.” Her smiled faded. “Suko, what if they’re right? What if he’s dangerous?”
“I’ve had Eshel under my personal surveillance since he arrived. I’ve watched his every move and seen no sign of duplicity yet. But I do have several safeguards installed in case I am wrong.”
Ferguson grabbed her water canteen. “Twenty-five years we’ve known each other. What would I do without you?”
“You would succeed, as always,” he replied, rising from his chair to make his exit.
“A bottle of Derovian red tefuna says he won’t last with us,” she said, leaning back in her chair.
Yamamoto looked at her for a few moments, lightly stroking his chin. “I’ll take that bet.”
CHAPTER 7
Catherine shook her head. Fifty-four. Fifty-four messages enquiring about Eshel. Did he speak English? Did he reveal information about Korvalis? Was he working with her? Is it true that the Korvali have gill slits? She laughed at that one. Word had gotten out.
She left her small office and pulled up a chair. Waiting for her were her two crewmen, Ensign Patrick Holloway and Private First Class Varan Mel’Kavi. Holloway, a recent PhD recipient who handled most of the lab’s information processing, often had messy hair and a somewhat wrinkled uniform. Another lab head might have upbraided him for his disheveled appearance, but Catherine didn’t mind. From her standpoint, Holloway could show up in his underwear as long as he performed his duties.
The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1) Page 7
