by S. H. Jucha
Julien settled into an unoccupied corner of the medical suite, locked his avatar in place, signaled he was unavailable except for emergencies, and ordered his memories. For his first transmission to Alex’s implant, Julien chose simple images, but before he could start, there was a little operation to be performed first.
Alex’s implant was active since it was powered by his brain’s heat. However, the comm app wasn’t active. The only things that were recoverable from Alex’s implant were his bio data. Those applications were purposely not security locked so that the data could be recovered in times of emergency.
However, Julien was one of the few individuals who had access to Alex’s security applications, and he used that data to defeat Alex’s implant security protocols and open the comm applications. Now the paths to Alex’s applications and data storage were open. The access level was so complete that Julien could wipe the twin implants clean — not that the thought occurred to him.
Once Julien had access to Alex’s implants, he sent a favorite image fight. It was simple, but one of their first, and Julien had enjoyed it immensely. He felt liberated that day, mentally sparing with a young captain, whom he admired.
But Julien wasn’t satisfied with sending the image battles. He talked to Alex about their exchanges and how they made him feel. He commented on his favorites and why he prized them. He recalled the events that led to their creations, which were often moments of celebration for the two of them, for others, for the fleet, for the Swei Swee, or for the Harakens. And Julien engaged Alex nonstop.
People came and went from the suite — Pia, Renée, Teague, Ginny, medical specialists, and others. Some stayed for a little while to give comfort and check on Alex’s conditions, and some sat with the unconscious man for hours. Everyone spared a glance for Julien, who seemed to be standing watch in the corner. Humans lamented that the SADE might be incapable of other actions until Alex woke, unaware of the extent of Julien’s activities. There was nothing to tell humans or SADEs any different, Julien was offline to all entities and controllers. Even the medical controller couldn’t detect Julien’s one-way transfer of data to Alex’s implants embedded in his cerebrum.
The hours passed for Julien, and his efforts were unflagging. Morning gave way to the afternoon. The afternoon gave way to the night. One day gave way to the next, then another, then another.
Midday meal signaled via code in Julien’s kernel. He’d turned off the chime to prevent the sound from interrupting him. The next mock fight on his extensive list came up, and Julien sent it. He was about to comment on it when he heard these halting thoughts:
The sounds of crew members yelling, clapping, stomping, and pounding on walls reached Julien, and immediately afterwards Renée, Teague, Ginny, Pia, and several medical specialists burst into the suite.
Pia released the table’s cover and checked Alex’s vitals via the controller. “How do you feel, Alex?” she asked.
“Tired … bored,” Alex replied weakly.
“Bored? How could you be bored, my love?” Renée asked.
“You would be too if Julien was reliving your past and droning on and on and on,” Alex said, coughing from a dry throat. Pia opened Alex’s mouth and sprayed a mist to lubricate the passageway.
Those in the medical suite turned to regard Julien. Alex lifted a hand to wave his fingers at his friend and smiled. Renée grabbed Alex’s hand and kissed it, as Teague, tears running down his face, laid his hands on his father’s shoulder.
Alex discovered his implant security was wide open and quickly restored it. He sent a single message to Julien as the SADE quietly eased from the suite.
A smile lit Julien’s face as he strolled down the ship’s corridor. Sparkles of light cascaded from the top of his head in a half sphere down to his shoulders, partially obscuring his face. It was an amazing light show for the crew.
* * *
The queens, with their wasats and emissaries, waited out the days since Dassata was whisked away by his soma. Many queens urged an end to the Fissla. Their great concern was that they had been absent for too long from their nests. But Nyslara was adamant that they continue to wait. “If Dassata dies, then you needn’t worry about returning to your nests,” she told them. “The lives of you and your soma might be short lived.”
“Queen Nyslara, you speak as if Dassata, who we saw receive two mortal wounds, might not be dead,” Posnossa said. In the period since the shooting, the youngest queens, Posnossa, Sissya, and Homsaff, had emerged as the strongest supporters of Nyslara’s opinions.
“I’ve been witness to many wonderful and strange things amid the company of the Harakens,” Nyslara said. “I’ve been on their ships, which wait above this world. I’ve met ceena leaders and heard their whistles translated into words. I’ve written on a map that floated in the air and could look far and near at our planet through a strange device. I’ve slept on a bed that moved under to me to accommodate my body.” Nyslara shook her head in amazement at the memories of those events. “There are many things these Harakens are capable of that will surprise and stun you. It’s my hope that Dassata will be saved, and, if he lives, he’ll expect to find us waiting for him.
-24-
Dassata’s Return
The queens were fast approaching the maximum time that they could afford to be away from their nests. Nyslara was even losing the support of the young queens, who were getting anxious to leave. One evening, it was agreed that they would wait two more days, then declare the Fissla closed.
The following dawn, Pussiro woke Nyslara and whispered word of the descent of alien ships. Nyslara had slept with the other queens in the well-stocked tents, which were erected on the first day of the Fissla. Every accommodation had been made to keep the queens, wasats, and emissary warriors comfortable while they waited.
Nyslara hissed to wake the queens in her tent, while Pussiro passed the word to the wasats, who woke their queens. Sleepy eyed, the Dischnya leaders assembled in the early light, pulling robes and jackets close against the chill morning air.
To the Dischnya’s eyes, the Harakens’ routine mirrored the Fissla’s first day. The same number of ships landed in the same exact formation. As before, myriad figures spilled forth onto the plains, but, to their amazement, so did Dassata, who descended from the central ship.
Nyslara was the first to recover from her shock at the sight of Dassata, even though she’d stressed to the other queens that it was possible, but hoping wasn’t always believing. When Dassata failed to approach the queens, it caused Nyslara to hesitate. But then why should you trust us, Dassata? Nyslara thought.
Instead of waiting for Dassata to make the first move, Nyslara walked slowly out to meet him. Her eyes glanced frequently to the two slender aliens, who had been so quick to fell Chafwa and Foomas. They watched her with calm regard, but she was relieved that she couldn’t detect animosity in their faces. As if you know the gestures and subtleties of their odd faces, Nyslara thought, berating herself.
Alex watched Nyslara’s tentative steps, as she approached, wondering what she was thinking and feeling. Her eyes showed concern, but whether for herself or him, he wasn’t sure. Whatever Nyslara was feeling, she had the courage to close the distance until she was within arms’ reach.
For Nyslara, it was difficult
to believe that she was looking at Dassata, having witnessed the great wounds inflicted by Chafwa and Foomas. She sniffed delicately. It was the same individual — not a spirit. Nyslara tipped her head to the side to peer at Alex’s scalp, and he turned his head so that she could examine the wound.
The twins and security stiffened as Nyslara leaned forward to eye and sniff at Alex’s wound. Having witnessed the execution of the Fissla traitors, they were keenly aware of the deadliness of Dischnya in close quarters.
Nyslara regarded the shaved area of fur on Dassata’s head. The wound lines appeared faded, something she would expect to see many days after the skin knitted together. She inhaled quickly, trying to detect a salve or ointment that would explain the quick healing, but her nose filled only with the scent of Dassata.
As Nyslara pulled away from him, Alex could see the amazement in the queen’s eyes. True to the man he was, he shrugged and gave Nyslara a lopsided smile, teeth and all. To his surprise, Nyslara’s lips curled up and away, revealing incredibly vicious-looking rows of teeth, and she held her arms wide.
Both sides, Dischnya and Harakens, were perplexed by Nyslara’s gesture. But Alex wasn’t. So much of life was about decisions made in the mind, but they held little value to those around you unless consideration was given to the needs of the heart. And, in this case, despite the absurdity of the idea, Alex knew what to do. He stepped forward and embraced Nyslara.
“Dassata lives,” Nyslara hissed into Alex’s ear, as her arms enfolded him. She’d been mentally prepared to accept the feel of a squishy body, reflecting the pale, alien skin. Instead, hard muscles of arms and chest encased her. Like grasping a boulder, Nyslara thought, relieved not to feel her hands sink into soft flesh.
Nyslara stepped back, and she worked to hide her embarrassment for her brash action, covering her teeth and returning to the amenities. She heard Dassata speak, and Willem translated his words.
“Dassata thanks Nyslara for her concern,” Willem said, “and wishes to continue his discussion with the Fissla.”
Nyslara stepped aside and gestured to Dassata. She held her head high and rose slightly on her long legs, enjoying the vindication of her faith in the Harakens’ incredible technology. And you, young ones, who believed, will reap the benefit of your support, Nyslara thought, as she eyed the incredulity in many of the older queens’ eyes. When she stopped in front of the assembly, she said, “As I foretold, the Harakens are capable of much that we don’t understand. Despite the death wounds Dassata received at the hands of those who would desecrate the Fissla, he lives.”
Homsaff, too young to have been taught the ways of the Fissla, could not contain her amazement. She tipped back her head and loosed a long, wavering howl at the sky. It was not an appropriate gesture for the council of queens, but it was an ancient call of celebration, born from the marrow of the Dischnya.
And Homsaff’s call was infectious. Others tentatively joined her, but the noise emboldened the rest. Soon queens, wasats, and emissary warriors sounded off to the sky. The howls were deafening in volume and eerily beautiful in harmony.
Nyslara regarded Alex, the lips of her muzzle wrinkling in humor. She wanted to join with her Dischnya in celebration but held back, not knowing what Dassata would make of it. Instead, she replied in the manner of the Harakens and offered him a full display of her teeth.
Alex didn’t know which was more disconcerting — a hundred howling aliens or one bearing savage rows of teeth at him in imitation of a human smile.
Nyslara saw Alex regard Homsaff, and she issued a request for the young queen to step forward. “This is Homsaff, who has inherited from the perpetrator, Chafwa. A queen of Chafwa’s age should have had an older heir. We learned from Homsaff that many annuals ago Chafwa rid herself of Homsaff’s elder sibling when the female pressed for a passing of the robe. Homsaff is not yet of mating age. However, she’s the only heir the Mawas Soma nest possesses. We request your understanding of this chona replacement in the Fissla.”
“Dassata,” Homsaff said, by way of greeting and glanced at Nyslara. The Fissla remained a great mystery to her. Yet, she was expected to participate in it, as a queen, even after the traumatic event of dealing the death blow to her mother. If all this hadn’t been enough to disturb a too-young queen, now she stood in front of a resurrected Dassata, at a loss as to why she was beckoned forward.
“Welcome to the Fissla, Queen Homsaff,” Willem translated for Alex. “May your reign be long and bring peace and great honor to your soma.”
Whatever Homsaff expected, it wasn’t these words, and she dipped her head in acknowledgment. Emboldened by Dassata’s statements, she took the opportunity to speak what was on her mind. “I’m pleased to see that Dassata was not slain by Chafwa’s treachery.”
“I’m pleased too,” Alex said in his simple Dischnya, and both Nyslara and Homsaff chuffed in humor. “We must return to the purpose of the Fissla,” Alex said to Nyslara, with Willem translating.
“We must hurry, Dassata,” Nyslara said. “The time for returning is near.”
Alex furrowed his brows at Willem, thinking that he misunderstood Nyslara’s simple statement, but Willem wore a perturbed expression. So Alex and company waited while Willem and the queen launched into a protracted conversation. Other queens drifted over to add their thoughts into how Nyslara could explain the critical time that approached, and Willem linked the Haraken SADEs to support his analysis.
Willem, having heard Julien’s explanation, sent his agreement to Alex.
Alex cleared his throat loudly, and silence fell over the discussion. “First, by dawn on the second morning from today, our ships will return the queens, their commanders, and their emissaries to their nests via our ships, even if the Fissla hasn’t reached consensus.”
Alex’s announcement was greeted with skepticism by the older queens, but the eyes of the younger ones glowed with excitement.
“Dassata, some of us have nests that are fairly close,” Homsaff said, and everyone knew what the young queen attempted to wrest from Alex.
“Every queen, who wishes to ride, will be accommodated,” Alex replied.
Homsaff, hearing Willem rephrase Dassata’s answer, nodded politely, but Alex saw the young queen’s claws repeatedly dig into the soil and relax.
Julien sent to Alex, noticing the same thing he did.
Alex replied.
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Alex gestured the group toward the main tent. Space was made by rearranging pillows, and wasats hurried to bring the pillows from the smaller tents where their queens had slept. Alex and Willem were offered seats on small pillows of their own.
No queen or wasat missed the two slender, identical Harakens who stood closely behind Dassata and constantly scanned the Dischnya’s faces.
Despite your swiftness, Dassata was severely injured, Nyslara thought, looking at the twins. Are you now more protective or do you seek revenge?
As the hours passed, the queens lounging on their body pillows and Alex and Willem sitting on theirs, the framework of an agreement slowly took shape. The greatest obstacle to progress was the lack of proficiency with each other’s language. Repeatedly, Alex and Willem knew they were struggling to understand the point.
In contrast, the Dischnya queens easily comprehended Dassata’s statements. His requests were simple — the ceena were to be left alone and the nests were to stop their fighting. They agreed to both.
It’s what the queens wanted that the Harakens continually misunderstood. Alex offered to build a complex so that the queens might have a permanent location at which to facilitate their council, the Fissla. But when Willem reworded Alex’s suggestion, it elicited growls, and Alex didn’t need a translation for that.
The queens’ reactions underscored the conjectures of Willem and Julien. The monarchs couldn’t be separated from their soma for too long, much less permanently. What the Harakens became convinced of, over time, was that an entire nest must be moved, queen and soma. Forty-one structures would need to be built, one to accommodate each Dischnya nest.
