by S. H. Jucha
“You think that was an accident, Lieutenant?” Reiko asked.
“If it was, some individual is in trouble for violating orders,” Marie replied.
“So how does an undeveloped race get to the slug-throwing weapon’s stage, but act with a sophisticated war mentality by taking hostages when they surrender?” Alex asked.
“Is that pertinent now, Alex?” Reiko asked.
“It might be the key to how we get the hostages back unharmed,” Alex replied.
Most on the bridge thought the captives might already be dead, because no one had seen or heard from them since the day they were marched off the beach, but no one was foolish enough to utter that thought in the presence of Alex and Renée.
“Julien,” Alex said, proposing a scenario, “a society demonstrates dissociation between their weapons level and battle tactics. Then strangers land on their planet, aliens in their minds, and these people realize the newcomers are superior beings, who possess vastly advanced technology.”
Esther sent to the other SIF directors, who were stationed in the four corners of the bridge, as had become their habit to observe Alex.
“The appearance of space-traveling aliens should generate awe and probably fear, first and foremost,” Julien replied. “If my society was composed of nothing more than cunning predators, I would seek to destroy the visitors, never doubting that I could win the fight. But, if I was an intelligent leader of people, who only sought to survive, I would seek a solution that kept my people safe and free.”
“So, by choosing not to kill our people, their leader keeps all options open,” Alex mused.
“Precisely,” Julien replied.
“That requires we find a means of bringing the leader out into the open so that we can communicate with him, her, or it,” Alex said.
“It will be a he or she,” Bethany replied. “When the youngster, who was banging on the plex-crystal doors, climbed back over the traveler’s ramp, he flashed a healthy bit of equipment at me,” she said, grinning.
“Well, Julien and Cordelia, you might have the opportunity to learn a second alien language, but it would have to be accomplished in record time if we’re to save the hostages. That’s providing, of course, that Willem hasn’t done so already. My bet is he’s more than proficient by now,” Alex said.
The holo-vid blanked and was replaced by a vid, displaying a top-down view of the netted traveler before it was freed and a broad section of plains and boulders in a 190-degree arc out from the shuttle. Alex linked into the Sojourn’s controller to discover that Z and Miranda were driving the display. Suddenly, Alex’s comm became a party line, as everyone on the bridge linked into the controller.
Small translucent circles dotted the plains. They varied from deep red to light yellow.
Z and Miranda used the crews’ implant recordings and the shuttles’ controller records to piece together where the natives had emerged when they attacked or where their scopes had been spotted.
“We have sixty-eight potential hidden tunnel posts, with thirty to forty locations possibly manned, at any one time, although we can’t tell how many natives in total might be in those holes,” Z announced.
“And how will this help us?” Asu asked.
“We’re thinking, Captain, that we should simply relieve the poor dears of their weapons,” Miranda said.
The entire human contingent on the bridge stared at Miranda, who displayed the most charming smile, quite pleased with her suggestion.
“I’m sorry, I must have missed something,” Reiko said. “We know that these native weapons can kill. We don’t know exactly where they will be, at any one time, and we don’t know how many will be there when you open their lookout hatches. Just how do you intend to relieve them of their weapons? Walk up and ask them?” Reiko was sure everyone else would agree with her feelings that the plan was absurd, except she didn’t expect Alex to laugh. “What?” Reiko challenged.
“Sorry, Captain,” Alex replied, using a hand to wave an apology, while he tried to control his laughter. “I just had an image of us standing in front of a pile of native weapons and waiting for their leader to come out of one of their holes and ask for them back.”
Hector walked between several of the Harakens. He circled the bridge in a haphazard manner, nearly bumping into several people. By the time he was making a second more erratic orbit of the bridge, people were signaling him, asking if he was all right. Those unused to living with SADEs were wondering if they were witnessing their first breakdown of a cognitive digital intelligence.
As Hector walked, more like stumbled, past Alex, he received a quick wink.
Everyone turned to regard Alex. He gave them his usual gesture when he had nothing else to add, a shrug.
The holo-vid display suddenly added three travelers, descending and landing among the dots on the plains. Julien was driving this scenario. From out of the shuttles poured 181 white dots. They wandered around the fields seemingly aimlessly, but anyone with an eye for detail could see that their travels took them closer and closer to the colored dots, which marked the lookout posts.
“We have a three-to-one advantage for potential targets, and a six-to-one for occupied tunnels, Ser,” Z noted. Despite the general Méridien appellation, everyone knew who he was addressing.
“Security and medical specialists think that there’s the possibility those slugs can penetrate an avatar’s casing,” Bethany said. Her comment cast a sudden pall over the conversation.
“What we need is a means of distracting the natives. It must appear so random that they’re more interested in observing us rather than shooting at us,” Miranda said into the quiet. “I’ve always found beguilement amazingly effective in disarming a target.”
“I believe we can provide just such a scenario,” Julien said. “And, by we, I mean Cordelia and me.”
“Us?” Cordelia asked.
“Who better?” Julien replied. “Or synth-skins are holo projectors. Imagine the effect on the natives if they were to observe our appearances continually changing.”
Realizing the unique characteristics of Julien and Cordelia’s avatars elicited a round of excited murmurs from the Confederation SADEs.
“My next avatar will have that capability,” Trixie called out, her eyes lighting up at the thought. She had been standing quietly near the rear of the bridge, fascinated by the discussion. In particular, she was surprised that the reason for Hector’s erratic movements did not occur to her. How quickly will my thinking change when I live among the Harakens? Trixie asked herself.
-13-
Swei Swee Contact
Following their discovery of the remains aboard the dark traveler, the Swei Swee journeyed farther and farther every day away from the safety of shore into deep waters in search of those who had escaped the Nua’ll’s travelers. Each day of search left them exhausted, and, when they finally crawled ashore in Celus’ fading light, they settled on the sand to rest before hauling their exhausted bodies off to the cave.
The foursome was forced to space out the search days, spending one day searching the shallow waters for food and resting before they would take up the quest for their lost People.
Many days into their quest and returning from their longest trip outwar
d, the Swei Swee swam over dark waters when Bobs A Lot found himself the focus of an enormous predator rushing at him from below. He uttered a shrill warning to his comrades and raced for the surface, hoping to leap from the water and elude his attacker. Two of his eyes were focused on the fast-approaching surface, and two were faced backward measuring the narrowing distance from the onrushing fish’s multiple rows of sharp teeth to his trailing tail.
From seemingly nowhere, a blur of dark bodies intercepted the predator from multiple directions, striking savagely and quickly at the huge fish. It gushed blood from deep, multiple cuts in its flesh, staining the water an orange yellow color. Severely injured, the fish broke off its attack and headed back into the deep, trailing enough body fluid behind it that Bobs A Lot anticipated the creature had met its end.
Bobs A Lot broke the surface, and his eyes searched for what he hoped were rescuers and not more predators. Then, directly in front of him, two pairs of eyestalks emerged from the waters followed by an enormous dark blue carapace. The Swei Swee was enormous compared to Bobs A Lot. Nictitating eyelids blinked away salt water, and four eyes stared at him.
“Friends, allies, hive mates,” Bobs A Lot whistled, trying to think of how else to communicate to his lost cousin before he was rendered into small pieces by the individual’s incredibly huge and sharply pointed claws floating just below the surface.
Bobs A Lot’s comrades surfaced slowly behind him, and a swarm of the planet’s giant Swei Swee emerged behind their comrade.
Everything about the Celus-5 People said aggression. Their pelagic coloring of dark tops and silver gray underbellies spoke of deep water entities, who rarely ventured into the warm shallow waters, which were the haunts of the Haraken People. Bobs A Lot wondered if they ever climbed ashore. Their carapaces were more streamlined, and their tails were longer, broader, and less flexible, capable of driving these People much faster through open water.
The lead individual whistled a response, and, to Bobs A Lot’s dismay, he wasn’t able to understand the message.
Sand Flipper sent to the others.
Whistles Keenly sang the hive’s name and its lineage, which named the leaders before they were called First. He was back eight generations when the massive, dark individual in front of Bobs A Lot let loose a shrill whistle. It was followed by a string of whistles and warbles that the Haraken Swei Swee struggled to comprehend.
Sand Flipper commented on the comm.
The leader of the Celus-5 Swei Swee whistled and his hive members turned around. The leader gestured with a huge claw, indicating the Haraken Swei Swee should follow them, but the foursome hesitated, undecided whether to return to shore, where they might be recovered by the survey team, or follow the Celus People, continuing their investigation.
After a confusing exchange, the two groups separated. The Celus-5 People returned to the deep, and the Haraken Swee Swei returned to shore. The foursome was disappointed and tired. Having found their lost cousins, they were faced with the intervention of centuries of time, which had eroded the ability to understand one another.
“Is this how the Star Hunter First felt trying to communicate with our hives for the first time?” Sand Flipper lamented, as he and his companions hauled themselves onto the sand and collapsed in relief.
“In two days, we can try again,” Swift Claws urged.
“If we can find them again,” Bobs A Lot whistled.
Whistles Keenly warbled his humor, and Bobs A Lot let loose a shrill whistle in reply. He was in no mood for his comrade’s humor.
“I meant no slight, Bobs A Lot, but do you believe that in the vast expanse of endless waters these Swei Swee just happened to be nearby when you’re desperate for aid?” Whistles Keenly sang back. Twelve eye stalks swiveled his way, and he warbled again.
“They’ve been watching us,” Swift Claws said, understanding what Whistles Keenly was saying.
“We’ve been swimming into deep and obviously deadly waters, exhausting ourselves for days on end, and you’re telling me that they’ve been watching us for much of that time?” Sand Flipper whistled in anger. He stood up and spun around twice, sand flying everywhere, to demonstrate his annoyance. It was a poorly thought-out action, as it necessitated that his comrades crawl back into the water to rinse off the sand that covered them.
* * *
Several cycles before the hive saved Bobs A Lot, Dives Deep had burst from the waters onto the hive’s floating youngling dome, whistling and chattering so quickly that few could understand him.
The hive’s First, Wave Skimmer, had commanded calm with a shrill whistle and the nervous chattering was stilled until Dives Deep could deliver a full report. He told the hive that he had spotted four, small, blue green colored Swei Swee.
That evening, the hive discussed what was to be done. Many males urged the four small Swei Swee be sent to travel the endless waters. It was their opinion that their stunted size and blue green carapaces indicated they were merely decoys of the land hunters, who continued to bring their mobile surface craft deeper and deeper into the endless waters in search of the People.
The fear pervading the hive caused the youngest females and some matrons to opt for cutting the dome’s anchor, disguised though the floating structure was, and move it to a new location, lest the land hunters find them.
But Wave Skimmer had overruled those who sought the small ones’ deaths and those who were panicked into whistling for the nest’s relocation. His decision was to observe the strangers and learn more about them. For days, hive members shadowed the foursome, noting their habit of searching every other day and adopting the same routine.
During one of their observation days, Long Eyes had objected again that these strangers were only tools of their enemy and should be destroyed. To which Wave Skimmer had whistled, “Where are the land hunters’ mobile rafts, which should be following them? And if we were to contact them, what harm could be done to the People if we never lead them back to the hive?”
Wave Skimmer was distracted by his conversation with Long Eyes when Dives Deep had whistled for their attention. A maga was headed for the surface, aiming to attack one of the small ones.
It was when one of the strange Swei Swee spotted the predator and whistled the People’s ancient alarm to seek shelter that Wave Skimmer doubted the four were land hunter decoys, and he had ordered his companions to attack. A single maga, even a large one, was no challenge for five full-grown males. Wave Skimmer did think it a shame that none of the strikes crippled or killed the fish. The sweet-fleshed creature could have fed the entire hive for the day.
In the evening, Wave Skimmer spoke to the hive of the encounter with the small Swei Swee, who they had been observing. His story of the endangered little one’s ancient call changed the minds of most of the hive, the matrons and young females, most of all.
But Wave Skimmer’s next announcement generated great concern. He said, “I will approach the foursome in the shallows where they feed. We dare not lead them to our nest until we know more, and I can’t have an extended conversation floating in the middle of the dark waters, where we can be ambushed from predators. The only opportunity lies in my approaching them, and, if necessary, going ashore.”
None of the hive had ever set foot on the shore. Stories abounded about males who lived generations ago and were thought to circumvent the land hunters by going ashore where thick growths of trees pushed to the edge of the beach. But once they entered the forests, they weren’t seen again.
As the First, Wave Skimmer’s dilemma was whether to tell, and, if so, what to tell the Firsts of other hives. Time was when a hive would number eighty or more members before a new hive would splinter off, but those days were long gone. Hiding from the land hunters
was paramount and that required a smaller hive, which could shelter in inventive ways — floating nests far out in the dark waters, or caves accessible only by diving through water-filled tunnels. With this strategy, it meant the loss of fewer People, since, once discovered by the land hunters, the eggs and younglings would be defended to the last hive member.
* * *
The Haraken Swei Swee hadn’t ventured into the deep for several days after their encounter with the Celus-5 People. The size and ferociousness of the fish that attacked Bobs A Lot had stunned them. It was plain that they were ill-equipped to compete with the vicious predators of this planet’s dark waters.
The foursome chose to fish in the early morning, as soon as Celus lit the horizon, quickly filling their gullets before scurrying back to the cave to hide. It was a boring existence, but none of them could come up with a better plan.
One afternoon, Sand Flipper left the cave to immerse himself in shallow water and relieve his full bladder when something caught an eye. Another eyestalk swiveled to focus on the objects, and it was soon joined by the remaining two.
“Five travelers,” Swift Claws whistled excitedly. “Help has arrived.”
Sand Flipper floated in a meter-depth of water, as the foursome watched and waited for the outcome. It wasn’t long before the windstorm, which had blown dust over the embankment and onto the shore, abated and then stopped. Soon after that, five travelers rose into the air, and the mission’s survey shuttle sailed out over the waters. The foursome, forgetting their own danger, whistled their approval, as the transport traveler extended its ramp, spun in a circle, sealed up, and lifted skyward.
