The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1)

by C. A. Hartman

  “Extraordinary,” he said. “They’re more similar to us than I’d imagined. And I’d thought Stravinsky’s work was rubbish!”

  Dante Stravinsky, an evolutionary astrogeneticist who worked at the Peloni Institute, had published a paper theorizing that humans and Korvali may have a common ancestor. The paper generated much controversy. Unfortunately, without Korvali cooperation, there was no way to empirically test such a theory.

  “Did Eshel ever offer an opinion on that topic?” he said.

  “No. He’s not allowed to talk about that stuff, remember?”

  “And you two never talked in confidence?”

  She shook her head. “Not really,” she lied. “We both had too much to lose.”

  He rolled his eyes. “How can they continue to keep his knowledge stowed away indefinitely? Don’t they understand how important it is?”

  “No, they don’t. Don’t get carried away,” she said. “I know it stinks, but there’s a lot at stake here.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like what would happen if Eshel gave away Korvali secrets. They’d find out and things would get ugly. He’d be in danger, we’d be in danger…”

  “From what?” he cried. “From people who don’t even have FTL technology?”

  She shook her head. “You have to trust me on this one, Holloway. They’re far more dangerous than you think. That, I know.” When he tried to argue again, she stopped him. “Listen… you don’t know anything. Remember those nine other refugees? The Korvali intentionally destroyed their water stores so they’d die a slow and painful death. They murdered Eshel’s father because he opposed some of their leader’s policies. And, I almost got sent home because Steele found out I told Eshel about the genetics of my mother’s cancer. Steele is breathing down my neck and the XO has his eyes on me.”

  “Then why do you want to do this?”

  “Because I’m not letting some bitter old scientist who doesn’t know shit about modern genetics—or a bunch of soldiers who don’t appreciate the value of science—stand in the way of progress! Steele doesn’t care about protecting Eshel or the Korvali; he wants this information for himself.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Eshel and I… we had a falling out. But he trusted me. More importantly, he didn’t trust Steele. We can’t let Steele win, Holloway.”

  “Of course we can’t let that bastard win. Even with Vanyukov on board, we can still kick the shit out them.”

  She smiled. “That’s what I like to hear.”

  Catherine gave Holloway a long list of readings. They set a time to meet again and she sent him on his way.

  For her, she would spend her time reviewing the literature on the body’s physiological response to stress, particularly dehydration and starvation. Eshel and Othniel must have begun there. After all, to keep someone alive for an extended period of time without food or water, one would need to alter metabolic function and dramatically reduce heart and respiration rates, thus reducing the body’s survival requirements. And if Eshel and his father could alter the Korvali epigenome to survive dehydration, she and Holloway could figure out a way to do the same in humans. And they would have to do it faster—and better—than Steele and Vanyukov.

  Catherine woke the next morning to a bright light streaming into her quarters. Momentarily confused, she wondered if it were a hypnopompic hallucination, until she blinked a few times and realized she saw real, natural light. She got out of bed and went to her tiny window. Once her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, she saw rusty mountains along the horizon.

  They’d landed on Suna.

  CHAPTER 18

  One either loves Suna… or despises it.

  – Commander Valery “Val” Petrovsky, Space Corps, retired

  In Catherine’s experience, those who loved Suna remarked most upon its beautiful music, its spicy fermented kala, and the 19 moons that kept its shining planetary rings in line. Those who hated it complained about its violent volcanic activity, climactic temperatures that bordered on the inhospitable, the strangeness of the food, and, most of all, the inflated pride of Suna’s males.

  At the Academy, and from her father, Catherine had learned all about their past conflicts with the Sunai and the subsequent peace treaty, the latter of which had inspired the formation of the Alliance. The Sunai often took credit for the Alliance’s inception, but those who did their homework knew it was the Derovians who’d convinced the Sunai to join with Earth and Calyyt-Calloq to create a coalition that could benefit them all.

  A document from Administration discussed Sunai culture in detail, and Catherine shook her head at the Sunai being described as “passionate, competitive, and powerful.” From what she’d learned, they were violent, sexist, and full of themselves. Their language wasn’t difficult to learn (Eshel had told her it was easier than English), but the Sunai had numerous signals and customs they followed. And although knowledge of Sunai customs wasn’t required for interacting with the Sunai, knowing them had its advantages.

  Catherine only studied their most common customs. Other than her occasional dealings with their scientists, Catherine doubted she would spend enough time with the Sunai to justify more extensive study. From her perspective, Suna was a chance to get off the ship and explore a new place. And for that, she was grateful.

  Yamamoto sat down in Ferguson’s office. “What is it?”

  Ferguson stood facing her window. “They’re insisting on interrogating Eshel before he’s allowed freedom on Suna.”

  “Who is?”

  “Gronoi Okooii.”

  Yamamoto didn’t answer right away. Gronoi Okooii was not only a Gronoi, second only to the Gronoio in rank… he was one of the most powerful Gronoi in Suna’s military government. “I assume you put up a fight.”

  “You bet I did.” She turned around, her face flushed. “But the Alliance supports their decision. And Headquarters backed them up.”

  Yamamoto let out a breath. He sat for several moments. “It’s all bluster, Janice. We have what they want: control over Eshel.”

  “They can have the little shit, for all I care.”

  “Do not let the annoyances of the present make you lose sight of the future,” he said. “If we can integrate Eshel, and bridge the gap with the Korvali, the possibilities are endless… for all, but especially for us. And the Sunai know that. Let them interrogate. Let them exert their influence. It won’t change anything.”

  Ferguson didn’t answer. But Yamamoto knew from her silence that she agreed with him.

  “Did they insist on interrogating him without us present?” he asked.

  “They tried to,” she said. “I put my foot down. At least I got that concession. It’s tomorrow, at sunset.”

  The next evening, Catherine followed Yamamoto as they left the ship and walked to the transport vessel that awaited them. She squinted at the intense sunlight as a wave of heat immediately enclosed her, a heat so powerful and so dry that Catherine felt her nostrils burn when she inhaled. They were told that 50 degrees, down from 65 during the day’s peak, was on the cool side for Suna’s sun season. She felt sweat accumulate on her torso after only thirty seconds of exposure.

  Almost as powerful as the heat was the strange, pungent odor of the air. Catherine had heard about the smell, which emanated from the large shrubs that were indigenous to the volcanic rock and soil. Apparently, the abundant shrub grew only on that continent, as the rest of the planet had such harsh conditions that no sizable shrub or tree could survive.

  As she entered the transport, relieved to be out of the heat, she felt several pairs of eyes on her. Ferguson sat next to Ov’Raa, who smiled at her in his usual way. Steele gave her his brief, withering look. Yamamoto had asked Catherine to attend the meeting with the Sunai, and she got the feeling her attendance was against Steele’s wishes. Finally, from the corner of her eye, she saw one more person.

  Eshel. He gave her a brief look with his sea eyes. She felt a momentary panic—the only remaining empty seats were next to
him. Fortunately, Yamamoto stepped forward and sat down next to Eshel, while Catherine took the last seat.

  As the craft gained elevation, Catherine peered out the window at the landscape below. Jula looked as modern as any city on Earth. Its tall buildings were surrounded by large mountainous volcanoes stained reddish-brown from the lava that, from time to time, surged down from the active peaks into the city. Once up high enough, Catherine could clearly see the system of viaducts that snaked through the city in order to accommodate the runoff after an eruption. Soon, Suna’s brutal sun would begin its descent behind the peaks.

  She spotted Suna’s military headquarters from a distance, buried into the massive mountain and spreading out and around it like alluvium. Once they landed, uniformed men led them into the dark, cool mountain. They walked through the dimly lit hallways until they arrived at a vestibule. Two Sunai guards began scanning them one at a time, indicating when each passed the scan by putting a thick hand on a shoulder and urging them forward.

  When Eshel’s turn came, the guard moved to touch his shoulder. Eshel, anticipating the gesture, quickly dodged the Sunai’s hand and spoke something in Sunai. The guard uttered an angry response and moved closer to Eshel. Just then, someone from the room behind the vestibule bellowed a command in Sunai. The guard immediately stood up straight and backed away from Eshel, letting him proceed.

  Their meeting place was a windowless, cavernous room, somewhat dimly lit to accommodate Sunai ocular sensitivity and containing a large metal table shaped like a trapezoid. Behind the table stood nine Sunai in a shallow V formation, their rust-colored uniforms embellished with metallic decorations. All wore dark eyeshades.

  The Sunai seemed even larger than Catherine remembered, with facial features that were strange… ugly by some accounts, striking by others. However, these uniformed men seemed different than the gruff gumiia who’d attacked her and Eshel.

  The officer who stood at the V’s apex stepped forward and introduced himself as Gronoi Okooii. He announced the rank and name of each of his men, beginning with those closest to him. Finally, he commenced the traditional Sunai welcome by extending his palm; Ferguson stepped forward and met it with hers. Ferguson appeared amusingly slight next to the Gronoi’s bulk. They pressed their palms together for several seconds, until the Gronoi released his hand.

  “Gronoi Okooii,” Ferguson said, “you know Commanders Yamamoto and Ov’Raa.”

  The Gronoi met palms with Yamamoto and Ov’Raa, and then placed his large hands on Ov’Raa’s shoulders. “Niri,” he said loudly, his gravelly voice resounding through the cavernous room. “Most excellent to see you!”

  Ov’Raa twittered a bit as he grasped the Gronoi’s hands for the meron. “I hope your wives are well, Gronoi Okooii! And how are your children? Is your eldest a Gron yet?”

  Gronoi Okooii raised his chin. “He will be very soon, Niri! Very soon, yes!” He released Ov’Raa and turned his gaze to Catherine.

  Catherine felt herself stiffen, not knowing if she should offer her palm. But Ferguson went on to quickly introduce Commander Steele and Catherine before she said, “And, of course, this is Eshel.”

  Gronoi Okooii shifted his gaze to Eshel but did nothing, as if waiting to see what Eshel would do. Eshel, who wore his blue robe that day, stepped forward. He raised his palm. “Gronoi Okooii.”

  The Gronoi, appearing to approve of the gesture, raised his thick hand and met Eshel’s. “You shall sit there,” he ordered, motioning to the middle seat on the long side of the trapezoidal table.

  Gronoi Okooii indicated for Ferguson and her crew to also sit on the side where Eshel sat. Catherine waited until the others chose their seats, taking the end seat next to Yamamoto. The Gronoi sat at the opposite short side of the table, while his officers took their seats on its angled sides, in the same order in which they’d stood. Two of them didn’t sit, but instead took their places on either side of the door.

  “I am pleased to have you and your crew here, female Captain. But it is not you I wish to speak to.” The Captain’s jaw tightened as the Gronoi turned to Eshel. “Private Eshel,” he said, his voice resounding once again. “You are the first—and only—Korvali member of our Alliance!”

  Eshel didn’t respond.

  “You have left the planet of your people,” the Gronoi continued. “You now live among outsiders. You have enlisted in their Space Corps. You have even begun training to take position as an officer of respectable rank.” The Gronoi paused. “Do you know, young Korvali, that the Sunai have found many Korvali ships, disabled and drifting in the darkness? Do you know that the Sunai have buried your homeworlders when they did not survive their journey to our home? Do you also know that we rendezvoused with your compatriot, Ashan, many sun cycles ago? That we, the Sunai, were the disseminators of Ashan’s letter, that we were his protectors before his disappearance? Did you know all of this, young Eshel?”

  Eshel still remained silent, likely knowing that the Gronoi hadn’t finished.

  “Yet,” he went on, “when you leave your homeworld, when you seek protection from the Alliance, you don’t seek help from those who have honored your people! You instead choose to live among the humans, to serve their Space Corps military, to repay a debt to them that does not exist!” He puffed up his chest and raised his chin a bit higher. “What is the meaning of this decision?”

  “It is simple, Gronoi Okooii,” Eshel said. “My physiology cannot tolerate the hot temperatures of Suna.”

  “Temperatures?” the Gronoi said. “Your concern is this trivial thing? We have many ways to protect you during our sun season! You would have the environmental conditions you require! You would have the food and drink you prefer! You would have an honored position among our superior armed forces! You would have all that you could want…” the Gronoi paused, “including permission to engage in the scientific research you so value!”

  Catherine heard Yamamoto exhale. And from her corner of the trapezoid, she could see Ferguson shift in her seat. But Ov’Raa spoke first.

  “Gronoi Okooii,” Ov’Raa said in his sweetest voice. “The Space Corps did not prevent Eshel from sharing his knowledge of genetics. It was the Alliance’s decision, decided through vote.”

  “This, I know,” the Gronoi said, his expression still angry, but softened. “But had Eshel chosen to live among the Sunai, we would have persuaded the Alliance otherwise. We would have made them see.”

  Catherine watched the Gronoi, amused at his bravado, but also curious if there were any truth to his claim.

  “Gronoi Okooii,” Ferguson said. “You say that you would protect Eshel and any other Korvali refugees. Yet it was Sunai who attacked Eshel on Derovia, on two occasions. The second time they had a weapon. How would Eshel be protected here even as a visitor, much less as a citizen?”

  “The gumiia are an embarrassment to the men of Suna!” the Gronoi cried, waving his arm as his metallic decorations clinked together. “You find this garbage and bring them to me, and I will handle them.” He paused, looking at Ferguson again. “You too, female Captain, must know the frustration of those who do not make your people proud.”

  Ferguson nodded. “I do, Gronoi. And we are glad to know that the men of Suna don’t wish harm upon Eshel, despite his transgressions.”

  The Gronoi nodded, looking at everyone at the table. “We do not attack the Korvali. But the Korvali attack us! The Korvali ended the lives of eight excellent soldiers of Suna. Yet,” he said, focusing on Eshel again, “you are here. You left your planet, your people, to live among otherworlders. Perhaps you do not trust the Sunai, trust that we will protect you, given this debt to us.” He made a gesture with his hand. “Despite your lack of trust, and despite our being unwelcome on the planet of your Korvali people…. you are still, young Eshel, welcome on Suna.”

  The group seemed to let out a collective sigh, as everyone turned their attention to Eshel.

  “Thank you, Gronoi Okooii,” Eshel said. “It is my expectation that, someday,
you and your people will be permitted to visit my homeworld.”

  The Gronoi raised his chin slightly. “Is this an expectation, or simply the wish of a young man full of ambitions?”

  “It is my certain belief, Gronoi.”

  The Gronoi didn’t answer right away, seeming almost intrigued by Eshel’s claim. “I am told you did not know this… Ashan.”

  “I did not, Gronoi.”

  “But his writings, his words, they are true, yes?”

  “They are true, Gronoi,” Eshel said. “I would very much like to speak with Ashan, if possible. Do you know where he is?”

  Catherine suppressed a smile. Only Eshel would be so audacious.

  The Gronoi raised his chin again. “I know he would have a position of rank on Suna! Not as high as you, young Korvali, but a position of respect nonetheless!” He lowered his voice. “But he has fled. He chose to hide, like a coward, instead of letting us protect him. Some say he hides in the mountains of our uninhabitable regions… but most say he is dead. No Korvali can survive on his own here… even with your unique scientific talents.” The Gronoi looked at Catherine. “You, geneticist. Lieutenant, yes?”

  Catherine felt her stomach jump as the room shifted its attention to her. “Yes, Gronoi.”

  “Lieutenant, it is you who discovered the changes in our young Korvali’s map of life, yes?”

  Just as Catherine began to reply, Ferguson spoke over her. “Gronoi, Commander Steele will answer any questions about Eshel’s genome or scientific abilities.” She motioned to Steele.

  The Gronoi turned to Steele. He asked only a couple of basic questions before he became uninterested and turned the topic elsewhere.

  It was then that Catherine noticed one of the Grono. The second from Gronoi Okooii’s right, easily in Catherine’s visual field, made a slight gesture with his right hand. He placed it up on its side and oriented it in a way that pointed right at her. A moment later, his hand resumed its normal flat position. The Grono next to him made the same gesture, but more quickly, almost as if in response. They were signaling, like the anthropologists said they did, in a language only they knew.