by Ryk Brown
“Gear coming down,” Loki replied, even before Josh finished giving the order.
Josh began to decrease the lift thrusters as the last of the Mirai’s horizontal speed disappeared.
“Down and locked!” Loki announced.
Two seconds later, the Mirai’s landing gear touched the cave floor.
“Contact!” Loki shouted.
Josh killed the Mirai’s lift thrusters, allowing the ship to settle down gently on her main gear. He paused a moment, listening to the sound of his ship’s engines as they spun down.
“Killing all engines,” Loki reported. “Bringing the reactor down to one percent.” Loki glanced across the console, checking all the critical systems. He wasn’t yet accustomed to the Mirai’s displays, and had to check everything more than once. “We’re good,” he finally declared.
A big grin came over Josh’s face. “I told you.” He turned to look back at Jessica and Commander Telles. “Piece of cake,” he added with a wink.
CHAPTER SIX
“General, Lord Torret is here to see you.”
General Bacca looked up from his reading pad, sharing the same surprised look as his aide. It only took a glance for his aide to turn to open the door and allow the elder statesman into the general’s study.
General Bacca set his reading pad aside and immediately rose to his feet, straightening his uniform.
“Lord Torret,” the general’s aide announced from the doorway.
The elder statesman, and leader of the Torret family, entered the study. “General, I trust I am not intruding.”
“Of course not, my lord,” the general replied. He knew Lord Torret was only being polite. No man in his right mind would refuse a visit from the senior member of one of the original leadership castes of the Jung Empire. “To what do I owe the honor?”
The general was also observing formalities, adhering firmly to protocol. Truthfully, he had little regard for the isolationist caste, of which Lord Torret was a member. So overpopulated was the Jung homeworld, that it depended upon the resources of its conquered worlds in order to survive. The empire existed because of its conquests, beginning with its first raids on neighbors from Nor-Patri itself, long before the empire had returned to the stars. Conquest and expansion made the Jung Empire possible. No one could deny that fact, not even Lord Torret himself. Yet, for more than two centuries, the isolationists had fought to prevent the continued expansion of the empire, and to that end, had only recently gained a majority vote on the council. “Please,” the general said, pointing to one of the two overstuffed chairs in his office.
“We have known each other for more than fifty years, my dear General,” Lord Torret began as he moved to sit. “Because of this, I felt compelled to meet with you in person…to tell you myself.”
“Your words carry an ominous tone, my lord. Should I be concerned?” the general asked as he sat back down.
Lord Torret sighed. “You have been a loyal servant of the Jung Empire your entire adult life, General. However, that is not always enough.”
General Bacca said nothing.
“Your failure to hold the Sol system, and to defeat Captain Scott and the Aurora, is seen by many as the root cause of the catastrophe that has befallen Nor-Patri.”
“Yourself included,” the general surmised, no longer caring about protocol.
“One cannot deny, that had you defeated the Aurora and captured the Celestia, the attack on Zhu-Anok would not have taken place.”
General Bacca continued to sit silently.
“While it would be against Jung law to prosecute you for your failures while in the service of the empire, some measures must be taken. Those officers who follow must know, that while victories are rewarded, so shall failures be punished.” Lord Torret waited for a response, but received none. “Surely you can see the logic of this.”
“And how far up the chain of command does such punishment travel?” the general wondered.
Lord Torret looked unsure.
“The generals over me, shall they too be punished, for failing to give me the resources needed to hold the system? And those in the intelligence divisions, who insisted the jump drive project was still years from a prototype? Or the commanders of the ships who failed to destroy the Aurora when we received word of her test?”
“General…”
“Or, perhaps, the very leaders of our warrior castes, who, in their infinite wisdom, chose to invade the Sol system before adequate forces could be assembled to ensure victory?”
“I am not denying that blame exists at many levels,” Lord Torret admitted. “But you know how this works. It is always one man upon whom such blame is assigned.”
“I brought you the one responsible for the attack. Your own courts convicted him only a week ago,” the general said. “Is that not enough?”
“For the common people of Nor-Patri, perhaps,” Lord Torret conceded. “Give them someone to execute, and their anger will be forever sated. But the castes…they are an entirely different breed. We live by codes of conduct. Risks and rewards. Successes and failures. We reap the rewards of our efforts, and suffer the consequences of our failures. You know this better than most. Every officer knows this. It is written in the very oath that you, and every officer in the warrior castes, swear upon commission.” Lord Torret looked at the general. “Have others not been punished in the past, for failures that could have been attributed to you as well? It is simply your time.”
General Bacca glared at Lord Torret. “And what shall my punishment be?”
Lord Torret took a deep breath, preparing himself. “You shall be stripped of all rank, and your lands shall be forfeit back to the people of Nor-Patri. Furthermore, your inclusion in the warrior caste shall be terminated, effective as of the execution of Captain Scott.”
“Then I shall be left penniless…without honor.”
“You shall be allowed to retain this estate,” Lord Torret said. “However, I would advise you to sell it as quickly as possible, and move to less expensive accommodations, in order to ensure your continued survival. Unless, of course, you wish to join the working castes.”
“And my honor?”
Lord Torret took a deep breath and sighed. “There is honor in facing one’s punishment with dignity. You should take pride in the decades of service you have given the empire.”
“All of which resulted in my being cast aside, in the name of political expediency,” General Bacca said flatly. “Is that truly the message you wish to send to your officers?”
“They will take whatever message they choose,” Lord Torret said, as he rose from his seat. “As can you. The announcement will be made by week’s end.”
“Why tell me now?” the general wondered, not rising from his own seat.
“As I said, we have known one another for many years. Out of respect, I felt I would give you a chance to prepare.”
General Bacca glared at Lord Torret for a moment. “If you are expecting gratitude, you will be sourly disappointed.”
Lord Torret sighed one last time before departing. “Fair or unfair, it is the world in which we live.” The elder statesman bowed his head slightly, in one last show of respect to the general. “Good luck, General.”
General Bacca said nothing as Lord Torret left his office. He had spent his entire life wanting to be in the service of the empire. He had been in command of hundreds of thousands of men, and dozens of ships. He had been the military ruler of the birthplace of humanity. Born on one of the worlds once conquered by the Jung, he had done the impossible and had climbed high enough to have his own lands on the Jung homeworld. He had been as true a Jung as any man could be. But it had all been a lie. In the end, it was not a lord of a caste who would take the blame, but an immigrant general. An outsider who dared to become one of them. A
nd now, he was losing it all, because of him. Captain Nathan Scott.
General Bacca tried to take solace in the knowledge that his young adversary would be losing far more than him, but it was of little comfort.
* * *
Jessica tightened her face mask straps and made her way down the cargo ramp to the floor of the cave in which Josh had skillfully hidden the Mirai. She turned to her right and headed toward the front of the cave, moving around the outside of the ship’s port engine nacelle. Ahead of her stood Commander Telles, staring out across the snow-covered valley from the mouth of the cave, his tactical helmet under his right arm.
“How go the lessons?” the commander asked her over the mask comms as Jessica approached him from behind.
“How did you know it was me?” Jessica wondered.
“There are three women currently on board the Mirai,” the commander explained. “Only one of them wears tactical boots. They make a distinctive sound when walking on the rubble of this cave floor.”
“Just the boots, huh?”
“Deliza is wearing soft, rubber-soled shoes. And Naralena is at least two kilograms heavier than you.”
“Impressive.”
“You will learn,” the commander said. “And the lessons?”
“The lessons are going well,” Jessica answered, switching to the Jung language.
Commander Telles cast a sidelong glance at his new recruit. “Your accent is quite convincing,” he answered in Jung.
“Thank you. It is not the first language I have studied, you know.”
“I am aware, and the Jung would not use ‘you know’ in such fashion.”
“The working castes would,” Jessica defended.
Commander Telles nodded. “True, but if using the Jung language becomes necessary, it would be better for you to speak as if you were a member of the upper castes, and not a commoner.”
“Of course,” Jessica agreed. “Any sign of them?”
“They are three hundred meters in that direction,” the commander replied, pointing slightly left, toward a thicket of trees.
Jessica strained to see, but was unable to spot them. “How can you tell?”
“A small group of birds took flight from that area moments before your arrival,” the commander explained.
“You are good.”
“Plus, I have been tracking them on my visor display,” the commander admitted, holding up his helmet so she could see the two red blips on the map display inside his helmet’s visor.
Jessica smiled as she continued watching the trees. A minute later, two people emerged from the edge of the forest, both of them wearing Nifelmian breathing masks. Jessica recognized Doctor Sato’s petite form. She was carrying a large bag in each hand, as was the man walking behind her.
“Any idea as to his identity?” the commander inquired.
“None,” Jessica replied. “She only said she needed to recruit someone with technical specialties.”
“You do realize, we know little about either of them,” the commander reminded her.
“I know.”
“We must keep a close eye on them both, until we can determine what level of trust they can be afforded.”
Jessica looked at him. “We’re trusting them to grow a clone of Nathan, and to teach us to copy his consciousness into some kind of storage device. How much more will we need to trust them?”
“With the truth about the death of Nathan Scott,” the commander replied. “A secret that, if revealed, could reignite a war that would cost billions of lives.”
“There is that.” Jessica stepped forward to greet Doctor Sato. “Glad you could make it,” she said, switching back to English. “We were beginning to worry that you might have changed your mind.”
“Truth be told, it had occurred to me…multiple times, in fact.” Doctor Sato admitted, setting her bags down to rest. “I am leaving all that I know, after all.”
“And why would that be?” Commander Telles inquired.
“Doctor Sato, this is Commander Telles, of the Ghatazhak. Commander, Doctor Michi Sato.”
“A pleasure,” the commander said, without moving.
“This is Doctor Turi Megel,” Doctor Sato introduced her companion. “He is a specialist in the consciousness transfer technology needed to complete the cloning process.”
“I’m assuming he can be trusted?” the commander asked, unconcerned with the possibility of insulting Doctor Megel.
“I have known him for many decades,” Doctor Sato assured him. “I trust him completely.”
The commander’s eyebrow went up. “You do not appear old enough to have known him that long.”
“This is my fifth body,” she explained.
“I see.” Commander Telles looked at Jessica.
“Yeah, it takes some getting used to,” Jessica said, sensing his skepticism.
“The question still stands,” the commander continued. “Why would you both leave your world so willingly?”
“The opportunity to complete our work,” Doctor Sato answered. “You see, Nifelm began as a dream to extend the human lifespan, perhaps forever.”
“There are many ways to extend the human lifespan, Doctor,” the commander stated. “Cloning is but one of them.”
“Yes, but cloning is the only one that can fulfill the dream of immortality. All others simply prolong life by slowing the aging process. Those that we know of, at least. Our subjugation by the Jung has made our leaders fearful of how our technology might be misused by such people.”
“Technology will always have the potential to be misused. That alone is insufficient reason for technologies to be developed.”
“I’m afraid our leaders would not agree with you, Commander.”
“Then why do you wish to disobey them?”
“I do not wish to do so, but I feel obligated to do so. Your Alliance saved this world, and your Captain Scott was instrumental in our liberation. Such people need to be kept alive, by any means possible. If not for the betterment of humanity, then simply as a reward for his sacrifices on humanity’s behalf.”
“An interesting statement,” the commander observed, “especially from one who appears so young.”
“Those of us who have lived through several transfer cycles tend to become somewhat philosophical in our nature. A side effect of having so much additional time to contemplate the nature of existence.”
“Another intriguing concept,” the commander said. “One that I would not mind discussing further, but at a later time.” He looked at Doctor Megel. “And yourself? Why are you willing to leave your world?”
“Are you kidding?” Doctor Megel replied. “There are dozens, perhaps hundreds of human-inhabited worlds out there. I have lived on this world for nearly five hundred years. I know every ridgeline, every body of water, every ice sheet. I want to see something beyond this world. I want to see them all. To do so, I fear I have no choice but to leave my world.”
“And how will you maintain your immortality, once you leave your world?” the commander wondered.
“Therein lies our motivation to succeed in our assignment, does it not?”
“Good point,” Jessica agreed, reaching down and picking up one of Doctor Sato’s bags. “Shall we go aboard?”
“Please,” Doctor Sato said wearily. “We have been walking since sunrise.”
Commander Telles stepped aside, keeping his eye on the two Nifelmians as they followed Jessica toward the back of the Mirai. He looked about the area outside the cave again, checking the visor on the helmet under his arm one last time before turning and heading back toward the cargo ramp. “Marcus, our visitors have arrived. Prepare the ship for departure. The next jump window is in twenty-seven minutes.”
* * *
<
br /> Admiral Dumar stared across the table at Admiral Galiardi and his staff, waiting for an answer.
“No one not of Earth will be forced to leave this asteroid under my command,” Admiral Galiardi finally replied.
“Yet, you would prefer that they do.”
“Yes, I would,” Galiardi replied without reservation or pause. “As would the people of my world.”
“An odd position, considering what those people, not of Earth, have sacrificed on behalf of it.”
“No one is questioning the sacrifices your people have made,” Galiardi pointed out. “Your intentions have been without reproach, and your efforts in the defense of Earth have been greatly appreciated, by myself, as well as the people of my world. But it is high time we take responsibility for our own protection, and allow your people to return to theirs.” Admiral Galiardi bowed his head respectfully, “with our undying thanks, of course.”
“And what of those who do not wish to leave?” Admiral Dumar pressed.
“Of course, they will be allowed to continue working, in an advisory capacity. However, I would think that they would wish to return to their friends and families back in the Pentaurus cluster.”
“Most of them do,” Admiral Dumar assured him. “However, some have built new lives here, on your world. Some even have started families, on your world.”
“I promise you, Admiral Dumar, anyone wishing to remain will be taken care of, with the respect they deserve. You have my word.”
“And if, in the future, they should become dissatisfied with their jobs, or for whatever reasons, wish to return to their homeworlds?”
“Then we shall see to their safe and timely return.”
Admiral Dumar was unable to read Admiral Galiardi’s expression. It was one of the many things he disliked about the man. “Very well,” the admiral replied. “I hope I can take you at your word.”
