“Please close your eyes and raise your hands over your head,” said the voice. Stauffer raised an eyebrow at the captain.
“Decontamination,” Mallick said. “Do it.” The others nodded. He closed his eyes and raised his hands over his head. Warm, dry air blasted him from all sides, filling the room with a deafening roar. After about two minutes, it stopped.
“Put down your arms and open your eyes,” said the voice. Mallick and the others did so. The door on the far side of the room slid open. On the other side was another room, somewhat larger and furnished with several oversized chairs. In the middle of the room stood three tall, gaunt, grey-skinned figures with elongated heads and large, pure black eyes. It was the first time any of the crew had seen a live Cho-ta’an.
Chapter Three
“Enter, please,” said the Cho-ta’an in the middle, who was a bit taller than the others. The Cho-ta’an were wearing utilitarian gray uniforms. The two on either side wore some type of sidearm in shoulder holsters. The Cho-ta’an were hermaphroditic, each of them cycling through male, female and asexual phases every few years. Those in the military and other strategically important roles were known to use hormone supplements to remain in the asexual phase indefinitely. As far as Mallick could tell, these three were all asexual. Other than the slight difference in height, the three looked identical to him. A black plastic case resembling a briefcase rested on the floor next to the middle Cho-ta’an.
The three humans entered the room.
“Welcome,” said the Cho-ta’an in the middle. Mallick thought it was the same voice that had spoken to them over the speakers. The Cho-ta’an went on, “Thank you for coming. As my real name would be difficult for you to pronounce, you may refer to me as Aaron. These are my associates, Richard and Olivia.” He indicated the Cho-ta’an on his left and right, respectively. Neither of them reacted in any discernible way.
Mallick had to stifle a chuckle at the mundane names the Cho-ta’an had chosen, as well as the ordinariness of the reception. He’d encountered more fanfare the last time he’d visited the IDL academy. As Mallick had never been much for fanfare, he followed suit.
“I’m Captain Nathan Mallick of the IDL exploratory ship Andrea Luhman. These are two of my crew members, Carolyn Reyes and Johannes Stauffer. What is this place?”
The three Cho-ta’an were quiet for several seconds, and Mallick began to wonder if he’d violated protocol by pushing for information too quickly. The IDL had guidelines for meetings with Cho-ta’an, but they were mainly theoretical. Only a handful of diplomats had ever met with the Cho-ta’an, and only under strictly controlled circumstances. Mallick could only hope that the direct approach would yield the best results.
“Your question is more complicated than it may seem,” said Aaron at last. “As far as we can tell, this facility was built several hundred years ago. We are not certain of the original purpose. As you have probably surmised by now, it was built neither by Cho-ta’an nor humans, but by another race altogether. Currently the facility acts as a sort of sanctuary for our sect.”
“Then you are Fractalists?” Stauffer asked. Whether Stauffer was simply following his lead in his directness or he was acting out of his knowledge of Cho-ta’an culture, Mallick didn’t know.
“I am aware that is how we are known in your language,” Aaron said. “Having taken the time to learn English, I find the term distasteful and inaccurate, but it will do for our purposes. Yes, we are what you call Fractalists. I assume that you are aware of our plight?”
“To be honest,” Mallick said, “we weren’t even sure you existed.”
“The High Command has done its best to suppress the release of information about our sect,” Aaron said.
“They consider you a threat.” It was a statement, not a question.
“We are a threat,” Aaron said. “Cho-ta’an society is premised on absolute conformity. It’s the basis of the Cho-ta’an leadership’s claim to racial superiority over humanity. If they acknowledge we exist, their casus belli evaporates. So we are quietly persecuted and gradually exterminated. It is, ironically, due to the High Command’s insistence on keeping our persecution unofficial that we have been able to survive as long as we have. We are not without resources, and our exploratory arm has settled numerous remote outposts in an effort to continue our work and evade the threat presented by the High Command. Sadly, we have lost contact with all the other outposts. It is believed that this facility is the only one that remains.”
“Is that why you sent us that message?” Mallick asked. “You want our help against the Cho-ta’an High Command?”
The Cho-ta’an Aaron had identified as Olivia shifted perceptibly in response to this question.
“No,” Aaron said, seeming not to notice. “Not directly, anyway. In fact, we took a great risk in sending that signal, and the decision to contact you was not by any means unanimous. Several on our ruling council believe that we have signed our own death warrant. And an even larger faction has argued that our actions have made us traitors to our own kind.” The two Cho-ta’an on either side of Aaron remained stock still.
“Why?” Mallick asked. “Are you planning on sharing information about the High Command with us?”
“No,” said Aaron. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to be coy, but it’s better if I show you. It is not my job to convince you to do anything, but rather to present you with an option. Any conclusions about what I show you and the resulting choices must be yours. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” said Mallick, trying to read the alien’s indecipherable features. The other two Cho-ta’an remained silent, and it seemed to Mallick they were watching Aaron as closely as they watched the humans. “Before we go any further, I have a request. One of our crew remains on the surface. We have been unable to reach her on our radios because of the density of the rock down here. Would it be possible to send her a message letting her know we are okay?”
“I’m afraid I cannot allow that,” Aaron replied. “We are monitoring the crew member on the surface, and she appears to be in good health and in no danger. That is all the assurance I can give you at present.”
“Understood,” Mallick said. “May I ask one more question?”
“You may ask.”
“The IDL was not aware of any Cho-ta’an presence in this area. From what you’ve said, it sounds like the High Command is equally in the dark about this outpost. So I gather that you didn’t use a Cho-ta’an gate to get here.”
“You are wondering whether the Fractalists have their own jumpgates.”
“Yes.”
“That is not a question I will answer.”
Mallick nodded, expecting as much. It seemed unlikely that the Fractalists had the resources to build their own gates—and that left only one possibility: Carpenter had been right. The Cho-ta’an had hacked the IDL’s gates. And yet, if they were capable of launching a surprise attack on the IDL headquarters, why hadn’t they? Perhaps, Mallick considered, it was only the Fractalists—and not the Cho-ta’an High Command—who possessed the secret of bypassing the IDL’s security.
Aaron continued, “What I must show you is some distance from here. Approximately three kilometers, if I am remembering the conversion from our units. We will need to take vehicles.”
“Three kilometers?” Stauffer asked. “Underground? How big is this place?”
Aaron’s face contorted into something Mallick took as a frown. He didn’t answer except to say, “We should not waste time. If you are willing to see what I have to show you, we should leave now.”
“We’re ready,” said Mallick.
“Very good,” said Aaron, bending to grab the handle of the black case at his feet. “Please follow me.” He turned and walked to the door. He waved his four-fingered hand in front of a panel to the right of the door and the door slid open. Aaron bent down to walk through the doorway and the three humans followed. The two other Cho-ta’an silently brought up the rear.
They foun
d themselves in what appeared to be a small clearing at one side of a forest. The trees were leafy and green, but of no species Mallick had ever seen. Some twenty meters overhead hung a dark green canopy through which filtered sporadic rays of sunlight. After a moment of vertigo, Mallick realized what had happened: the airlock was also an elevator. They had descended some unknown distance into the planet. The trees appeared to be real, but the sky they mostly obscured had to be an illusion: an azure backdrop with an artificial sun. Mallick had never seen anything like it. Even the most luxurious artificial habitat designed by the IDL paled in comparison. Whoever had built this place, it was someone with great technological prowess and vast resources. At the far end of the clearing, about twenty meters away, were two four-wheeled vehicles. They resembled automobiles of human design, but at a slightly larger scale to accommodate the Cho-ta’an.
“The species in this garden are all native to the Cho-ta’an homeworld, Yavesk,” said Aaron as they strolled through the clearing toward the vehicles. “Originally it was filled with alien species, but by the time we found this place, it was overgrown and in ill repair. Many of the plant species were dangerous to Cho-ta’an, and in any case the atmosphere was not breathable by our kind. We vented the whole place and re-pressurized it according to our needs.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Reyes. “If I may ask, does it serve a purpose other than aesthetics?”
Aaron emitted a noise from his throat that Mallick took to be a laugh. “It provides some of our food and oxygen, yes,” he said. “But you must understand that for Fractalists, there is no division between aesthetics and practicality. Our entire purpose is the study of what you would call aesthetics, so anything that assists in this purpose is necessarily practical.”
They had reached the vehicles and Aaron stopped in front of one of them. “We will be taking these vehicles to the artifact,” he said.
“The artifact?” Stauffer asked, raising an eyebrow. But the Cho-ta’an again acted as if they hadn’t heard them. Mallick shot Stauffer a cold glance.
“I’m afraid these are the largest vehicles we have,” Aaron said. “Richard and Olivia have been selected by our ruling council to come along. As you are our guests, I will leave it to you to determine how you wish to divide the group between the two vehicles.”
Again Mallick had to suppress a laugh at the mundanity of the situation. They’d traveled a billion kilometers to get to an ancient alien structure built inside a previously unknown planet, and they were making decisions about carpooling. “All right,” said Mallick. “Well, I’d like to keep my team together, if that’s okay. Looks like there’s enough room in the front vehicle for the three of us and one Cho-ta’an. So perhaps Aaron should ride with us and Richard and Olivia can ride in the other vehicle.”
One of the Cho-ta’an—Mallick thought it was Olivia, although he couldn’t tell them apart—seemed about to protest, but remained quiet. The two shorter Cho-ta’an spoke briefly in a language Mallick couldn’t understand and then made their way to the second vehicle.
“Very good,” said Aaron. He walked to the front car and opened the doors. Mallick got in the front seat and Aaron sat next to him, resting the black case on his lap. Reyes and Stauffer got in behind them.
“Please take us to the artifact site,” said Aaron, and the car began to move. He turned to Mallick. “There may be listening devices in this vehicle, but we will have to risk it. As you may have surmised, Richard and Olivia are members of a faction that dissented with the council’s decision.”
“If I had to guess,” Mallick said, “I’d say you’re not very popular with this council of yours.”
“That would be an accurate summary,” Aaron said. “I am the leader of a faction that believes a Cho-ta’an victory in our war with humanity will ultimately be disastrous for the Fractalists. When your ship was detected, I lobbied aggressively to send the signal. Contacting the IDL had been discussed prior to this, but only as an academic possibility. The appearance of your ship forced us to make a decision. My arguments carried the day only because I was better prepared for the possibility. I had theorized that the IDL might send a ship into the Finlan Cluster.”
Mallick made a note of Aaron’s words: when your ship was detected. It was virtually impossible for the Cho-ta’an to have “detected” the passage of Andrea Luhman 3500 AUs away, even if they were looking for it. Unless the Fractalists had developed surveillance technology that transmitted faster than light speed, the only way they could have known Andrea Luhman’s position and trajectory was if they had dispatched a probe to spy on the Fomalhaut Gate. That lent even more credence to the hacking theory.
“You think that when the High Command is done with us, they’re going to go after you more aggressively,” Mallick said.
“That is not in doubt,” said Aaron. “The question is a matter of the appropriate response. Of course, until the discovery of the artifact, this question too was academic.”
“You believe this artifact puts you in a position to affect the outcome of the war?”
“I will allow you to draw your own conclusions once you’ve seen the artifact. Allow me to be clear, though, Captain Mallick. I am not your friend. I am not even your ally. I have seen what your IDL has done to our settlements, and I will not weep if your race is erased from the galaxy. Fractalists believe, as do all Cho-ta’an, that our race is superior to yours. Our point of disagreement with the High Command is only in how we should go about demonstrating that superiority. Fractalists believe that the Cho-ta’an have no need of violence in our quest to displace humanity throughout the galaxy. Unfortunately, that belief is being sorely tested right now. Our ideals tell us that violence is counterproductive, but our eyes tell us that soon our sect will be hunted to extinction. I represent what you might call the more pragmatic wing of the Fractalists. For now, we have the upper hand. But make no mistake: we are in a precarious position. Whatever you decide, you must do it quickly and decisively. Any display of hesitation on your part will be interpreted as weakness by the others. If they think you do not have the will to do what must be done, they will seize the opportunity to act.”
“Are you saying my crew is in danger?”
“Your crew has been in danger since you set foot on this planet,” Aaron said. “I did not know until I saw you with my own eyes whether you would even be allowed inside the facility. And I do not know whether there might be armed partisans waiting for us at the site.”
“It might help if we knew more about this artifact. What is it?”
“It is something that was left by the previous occupants. More than that, I will not say.”
“Who were these previous occupants? Who built this place?”
“A race biologically similar to yours, but somewhat more advanced technologically, at least in some respects. We call them… well, in English it would be something like ‘Izarians.’ Cho-ta’an archaeologists have known of their existence for some time, but they seem to have very little trace of their civilization. It was long believed that this race essentially exterminated themselves. They built weapons so powerful that a war between two competing powers ultimately destroyed them all and most remnants of their civilization.”
“And is that what we’re going to see? Some kind of weapon?”
Aaron did not respond.
While they talked, the two vehicles made their way along a narrow, winding path through the forest. Occasionally Mallick glimpsed other Cho-ta’an, who were raking leaves, pruning branches, or performing other ordinary-seeming tasks. As the humans passed, the Cho-ta’an stopped to gawk at them. Again the juxtaposition of the strange and the mundane made him shake his head. The whole experience was surreal. If he didn’t look too closely, he could imagine he was watching one of the 3D simulations that had been made of Earth before the Cho-ta’an bombed it. Is this what the Cho-ta’an homeworld, Yavesk, looked like? As an IDL officer, he had access to a lot more information about the Cho-ta’an than the average person, but his
knowledge of the Yavesk was limited to generalities about climate, population, and geology. The only pictures he had seen had been taken from the edge of the Cho-ta’an system by probes before they were destroyed by Cho-ta’an defenses. He’d never thought much about what the Cho-ta’an homeworld was like, but if this underground forest was representative, it was much more Earth-like—and beautiful—than he would ever have imagined. On some level he had assumed that anyone capable of doing what the Cho-ta’an had done to Earth must have originated from some cold, ugly, brutal place, a place where the concept of beauty existed only as a sterile abstraction. The design of Cho-ta’an ships reflected a certain aesthetic sense, but he’d never imagined the Cho-ta’an knew of places like this. Had the Cho-ta’an found this place populated with alien vegetation and simply aped the builders, filling it with more familiar species? No, the forest had an intentional beauty to it. It was not a random collection of plants; it had been designed with a particular aesthetic in mind. Aaron had said the Fractalists’ purpose was aesthetic. Was this inclination a Fractalist aberration, then? Were the Fractalists persecuted for their appreciation of beauty? As much as he wanted to believe in an idealistic notion of the Fractalists, Aaron’s words were fresh in his mind: I will not weep if your race is erased from the galaxy. He had a thousand questions to ask Aaron, but the situation seemed tense enough without grilling their host about the destruction of Earth.
In any case, they seemed to have more immediate concerns. They had left the open forest area and entered a dimly lit tunnel that was just large enough for the vehicles. After a hundred meters or so, they emerged into another open area, much smaller than the forest and devoid of vegetation. Gone too was the illusion of being outdoors. The ceiling was high, but dotted with the same circular, luminescent panels they had seen on their way in. The chamber itself was roughly circular and about twenty meters in diameter, with walls of volcanic rock. Directly ahead of them was a group of forty or so Cho-ta’an, who appeared to be talking amongst themselves. As the front vehicle approached, the conversation stopped and the aliens turned to face the newcomers. It was difficult to read the aliens’ expressions, but Mallick was confident in his judgment that they were displeased.
The Dream of the Iron Dragon Page 4
