T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6)

by Frederick Gerty

  “We regret the pain and loss now being suffered by many in Vorkyta. If anything good is seen to come from that, let it be this lesson, writ in battle and blood, one once learned, need not be repeated. And in the end, what then? People return to a life of peace, for better or worse. I should be better, without the battles, without the deaths.

  “Your experience, when meeting new races, hitherto unknown to you and unexpected, is not unique. Among us, we all preceded you in conflict and disorder. We learned. We grew. We accepted. We sought honor. And we found it.

  “The result is the agreement placed before you today. It is not the final word on inter-species relationships. That document will never be complete. But the Pleiades Agreement sets direction, expectations, limits, and methods to deal with one another. The main, underlying, foundation, is honor. Treat one another with honor–individually and collectively. Or suffer in dishonor.

  “In offering the agreement, we the star travelers recognize each other as equals–though none have the same strengths, the same beliefs, the same practices, the same skills, the same knowledge, the same intelligence, or even the same looks. Alone, we are querulous, jealous, small and easily offended. But together–ah, the melding of knowledge, skills, strength, and energy is incredible. I could not have come this far to greet you alone, and neither could any of the other races. But together: together we cross immeasurable distances in strong, fast ships, find wonderful planets, and meet and trade with amazing peoples. We do that together, as one expedition, not alone. Together we are better and smarter than any one of us.

  “We do not travel and explore to join in battle, or to haggle in dishonorable practices. Such is folly, expensive in lives and treasure, and doomed to dismay, disappointment, and sorrow. We will not return to places we are not welcome, nor will we seek to trade and exchange knowledge with those who fail to act in honor.

  “The choice here before you is open–you may sign, and seek to treat all who visit with honor, or not. The agreement does not guarantee that all will act so–it provides the guidance, but weak people may reject, seek to distort or subvert it for their own selfish means. Thus is the history of people with free choice. But the consequences will be met, the debts of dishonor paid, one way or another. Be warned!

  “I, as expedition leader, sign for my ship, and my fleet. I do not sign for my people, nor my planet, nor the individual provinces thereon. Representatives of my planet, and its organization of provinces, will do so, binding all human people to the code of honor contained herein.

  “Those of you who choose to join us, may step forward and do so now.”

  Lorelei stepped down from the low podium, and stopped at the long table set up before her. She removed the thin, black pen from her front pocket, and as cameras flashed, cambots hovered close, and TV cams zoomed in, she signed in the middle of the white page with a large script, “Lorelei Saxon Sloane Lindbloom, Expedition Leader.” She moved the folder to the side, and pandemonium erupted before her.

  First a native jumped up, startling the honor guard, breaching the carefully choreography previously arranged, yelling, “I, Prince Ellante, willingly sign for the grand province of Atcitty.” He hurried forward, and a guide directed him to the side. More voices arose, a jumble of names and places, hands waving, feet stomping, people pushing forward, anxious to take a place in line.

  As Lori let the security people try to bring some order, Captain George, to Lori’s left, signed next, then passed the document on to the two UN reps, while Lori signed another copy. Beyond them, one of each of the other spacefaring races waited to sign for their ship, people, or entire planet, as they wished. Lori stood there signing copies, a large stack, replaced once, each being passed on down the line, all who signed would receive an original. Now the delegates, with a semblance of order reestablished, princes, kings, ministers, even a smattering of queens and princesses, began to file up, each to sign for their province, several times for the aliens, and once for themselves.

  Finally, one extra was signed, for the archives of V’ming’s palace, and Lori replaced the pen in her pocket. The signing took a while, but eventually all were finished, and delegates, holding their copy of the agreement, came to stand with Lori, each offering a hand to shake, and pausing for a photograph. They’d been well coached in the human practice of shaking hands, but the photo-op seemed to be universal.

  King V’ming, the host, led the delegates to the adjoining hall, for a huge feast, with music, dance, elaborate decorations, flowers, and soft cushions before deeply polished tables. Lori and her people gathered at a flower strewn table near the king, and of course began to receive delegates, anxious to put in a last word for trade, or deals for air cars, and assorted other favors. To a person, they asked for personal visits, and were disappointed to learn that she would leave within the bright. But she promised to send ships back, laden with all the anti-gravity devices they could carry, and urged those present to stock up on the finest art, decorative and ornamental fixtures, wines and spirits, and other items of interest to the travelers. And she said she would try to return again, but not for many, many brights.

  The music and entertainment went on as the celebration continued, far into the late afternoon, and would go on for hours, though not much into the dim.

  Eventually, the crowd began to thin, and Lori and Hunter started to say farewells to everyone they knew. All expressed sorrow at her departure, but joy in their meeting, and in the developments she’d initiated on the planet, and many more anticipated in the future. Morales kept them moving, she’d never have gotten away without him, such was the crush of natives, all wanting one more chance to talk with the Sky Lady.

  Finally safely ensconced in Eagle One, she told it to lift, and rendezvous with the Koyaanisqatsi.

  Eagle One said, “Departure preparations are complete, the captain awaits your return, and determination on when to light the engines.”

  “Yes, I think we’re on schedule, now, more or less.”

  By late that evening, back on Earth time, the travel shields closed as they eased into Williams Space, and a grand party began on the Koyaanisqatsi, one that would run all night. Everybody on the ship was in high spirits, glad to be heading home, pleased with the visit, and full of stories and adventures to share. Eric, walking and talking as any two year old, rambunctious, curious, and a favorite of all the members of the crew and expedition, stayed up, too, enjoying the excitement. He fell asleep in his father’s arms a bit before midnight, and the family all returned to their cabin suite. And slept late, well into the morning.

  The expedition had stayed on Magadana far longer than Lori ever anticipated, way past any chance of getting back to Earth in time for the next Christmas Holiday and shopping season, and no doubt a cause of worry as their expected time of return arrived and past. But so be it, such is the nature of exploration in the depths of distant space. Other expedition ships left before them, so at least some word would be passed along as to their status, and with news of events, good and bad.

  During the trip home, Eric had the run of the ship. He and the kits went everywhere together, great pals now. Lori had no lack of babysitters, someone always pleased to entertain the boy for an hour or a day, often trying to teach him their language and customs. His first words were in Selat, his second the click greeting of the illi-illi, only later picking up “Mommy” and “Daddy” in American English. As time went on, he could understand most of the other languages, even some of the Anawoka bird-speak, to their delight, and often carry on a conversation with whatever species was nearby. Lori and Hunter instructed him in family and Earth history, too, showing him his relatives, and historic videos. He eagerly anticipated arrival at their home planet, keeping a log on the computer, slowly counting down the days to arrival. Not always so sure of that, the computers never in agreement in the Einstein time distortion, they wouldn’t know for sure the actual Earth-date until they arrived, but knew it would be sometime in mid-summer, probably mid-July. Eric would
soon be turning three.

  “Plenty of time for the holiday shopping blitz,” Hunter figured. “It’s months away.” He and Lori planned to off load the many trade items into what they hoped was a portion of a lesser used warehouse near the Saxon plant in Syracuse, to act as a distribution center. Toward that end, they spent part of every day working with their trading staff cataloging and setting base prices for everything in the ship’s hold.

  “If we don’t show a profit, and a healthy one, it’s not because we didn’t bring back enough stuff to sell,” Hunter said, part way through the process. “And look, anything you especially want, make sure you mark it for me, so I don’t sell it right out from under you.”

  “Hunter, the things I want are already stored safely in the cabin, those boxes in the spare closet have my stuff. But some of the princess’ liquor trove would be nice, too.”

  “I know, I’ll show you the list I’ve already chosen–I just hope we don’t drink it all up before we get home.”

  “Now, that would be a feat, wouldn’t it. But I think it’s worth more to sell, than to consume, and we’ve attached all our reviews to everything we sampled. Should help sales.”

  That evening, at dinner with the captain, Hunter opened another bottle of wine from the princess.

  “To the return to Earth, and to all who made that possible,” he said in a toast.

  “Onward, to Earth,” Captain George said.

  Lori held her glass high, and said, “Yes, and as always, to my air car, Eagle One.”

  Epilogue

  The old man slowly raised his head, and said, as he did every morning, “Deny dews from spathe?”

  His wife smiled at the usual greeting, understanding the slurred speech, the lingering effects from a stroke months ago. For all that while, her usual response was, “No, not today, maybe soon, it’s not so late yet, you know.” But not this day. Today, she said, her voice calm, “Yes, detectors have identified an exhaust plume inbound. It matches that of the Koyaanisqatsi. I think Lorelei is headed back to Earth.”

  The man sat up suddenly, surprising her. “Lori?” he said, excitement in his voice. “She’s doming dome? When?” And he repeated the word again, plaintively, “When?”

  As she helped Ricky to the toilet, Amanda said, “Well, it’ll probably be a week or more. Then quarantine, maybe. So figure two weeks, at least. But I bet we’ll be able to talk to her before then.”

  “Den dhe boy, too?”

  “Yes, he’ll be big, almost three years old. Imagine. His name is Eric, you know?”

  “Eric. Yep. Dood name.”

  Amanda smiled at the change in her husband, and feared for him a little, too, so much renewed energy all of a sudden, on the phone, calling people, working the net for updates on the progress of the Koya, and even programming the computer to count down to the arrival day.

  By the end of the week, the image of the great starship, magnified, relayed, enhanced, appeared on the screen, a glowing fat orb against the deep dark background of far space, the exhaust plume preceding it, a long glow in the dimness.

  On the sixth day, the call came–sound and image distorted, full of skips and dropouts, but not bad, considering the distance and the doppler effects the computers had to adjust for. Summoned by the computer’s alarm, he hobbled to the console, yelling for everyone else in the house to gather around. Slowly, he said, “Open.” His heart pounding, he stared at the screen, mouth drooping a bit too, and he couldn’t speak.

  But the image there, a wavering pattern, but a face, the face he knew and loved, gone well over three years, said, “See, there’s your great-grandpa. Say hello to Poppy.”

  Another face appeared, smaller, rounder, and fatter, a child, a young child, a boy. It peered at the screen and said, “Poppy? Are you Poppy?” He sat up a bit, and said, “I’m Eric. Eric Lindbloom. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  As two tears slid down the old man’s face, he said, clearly and quietly, “Lorelei. And Eric. Dow I’ve longed to see you dodth. And dow I have. Dow are you?” The images froze there, while his question went up to them. Now he sat, awaiting the reply, another interminable delay.

  “Poppy...” Lori said, noticing his speech, but unable to see the half paralyzed side of his mouth and face in the wavering image. “We have missed you, too, and have hu.......ack, are we ...... me for Christmas?” She waited.

  “Des. Few months. You be in denty dime.”

  Amanda crowded next to Ricky, and smiled. “Lorelei, is that you and your beautiful son?”

  More waiting, to frozen images.

  “Grandma!” the screen jumped, jostled by the boy, or the connection. “Look, look, Eric, it’s .........” And the connection dropped both sound and picture, but it immediately came back.

  The boy was looking shyly at the screen again, his head half turned away, but his eyes locked on the image there. “I know you. You’re Grandma Amanda. And........”

  They didn’t know what he said, as the connection failed completely at that point. Signal lost.

  “It’ll be better real soon, give them a few hours, we’ll try to call them again,” Mandy said, her hand resting on Ricky’s shoulder.

  He nodded, and said, “Dend to Ilene. Dell dem the good dews.” And he replayed the recorded message over and over, staring at the people on the screen.

  A security delegation met them at Freedom Ten, in the VIP lounge, Lorelei’s family assembling, Ricky now on an AG chair, gliding along, at the front of the group, anxious to get going, to see his granddaughter and her son. And her husband, too, of course. Yes, he especially, he wanted to see, to thank him for his, well, for safeguarding Lorelei, keeping the family going, and siring such a fine boy.

  Their escorts led them into a fairly large room, on the edge of the station, tall, gangly plants and other greenery spreading in crazy patterns in the low-g. They waited, Ricky staring at the door on the other side. Impatiently, he tapped the fingers on his good hand on the arm of the AG chair. Finally the door opened, and a group filed through. Lorelei, holding the hand of a young boy, then her husband, Hunter, and a few more people he didn’t know. Oh, that Kobi, too, what’s her name? No matter.

  The families met. To everyone’s surprise, Ricky stood up, his right arm up high and wide, and welcomed Lorelei with a hug. For long moments, he held her, saying nothing, just patting her on the back. Lori felt his thin frame, his shoulder blades all to obvious through his thick sweater and shirt. She let him hold her for as long as he wanted, while she smiled at her parents, and at Amanda.

  At last he released her, to bend and look down at the boy. Hunter lifted him up, and Eric offered a hand out to Ricky. “Hi, Poppy,” the boy said, smiling.

  Carefully, slowly, Ricky said, “Hello...Eric...Welcome to Earth, your home planet. And your family. We are all so glad to see you. Now.”

  “I’m glad to see you, too.”

  Lori began introducing Eric to the rest of her family, and he seemed to recognize them all, from recent videos, and older holographic images, no doubt, seen and studied over and over on the long days coming back to Earth on the Koyaanisqatsi. Everyone fussed over the boy, to his pride and pleasure.

  That done, Ricky said to Eric, “Dwat do you dink of Earth?”

  The boy turned his head to the side, and said, “I have only seen it a little. Is that where we live?” He pointed to the window.

  “Des. Come on, I’ll thow you.”

  Ricky offered his right hand, Eric took it, and they walked slowly over to the massive windows, the old man dragging his left leg. But he went. Ricky boosted the boy up onto the very edge of the ledge there, stood behind him, and began pointing here and there at the huge globe slowly revolving around below them.

  Amanda, Ilene, and Lori looked at the two. “I think waiting for you to return is the only thing keeping him alive, all these months since the stroke. He’s so angry at being handicapped now, he can hardly stand it. But now, he’s got something else to think about. I haven’t see him w
ith such energy, such joy in life, in...ages,” Amanda said. She turned to Lori. “It’s good you got back when you did.” Turning to the two by the window, she said, “Will you look at that?”

  After a moment, Ilene said, “Where do you want to go, down-planet, I mean?” and she gestured out the window.

  Lori shrugged. “I guess home, with you, or Hunter’s folks. Got no where...”

  “Yes, you do, North Rock,” Amanda said. “It’s waiting for you. It’ll be ideal.”

  “Grandma, I’ll not put you out of your house.”

  “No, you’re not, you won’t. And it’s really Eagle One’s house, and it was built for the air car, and it should go back there, it’s here now, that means you do too. It’s too big and too much work for us anyway, well, me really, even with a Kobi to help, it’s way too much with Poppy like this now. I can’t keep it up with Poppy to look after. I’m ready to move on, and so is he. Bring Eagle One home. Bring it back to North Rock.”

  Lori looked concerned, eyes narrowed. “If we do, I’d like you to stay, at least for a while. There’s room enough for us all, isn’t there? Eric should get to know you both.”

  “I don’t want to be underfoot, and Poppy shouldn’t, he’ll pester you no end. We’ll be nearby, we’re planning to move over to the old Smiker place.”

  Frowning, Lori said, “That’s two stories, and tiny. That won’t work for you.”

  “It will when we add a bedroom and a sitting room out the end. Got the permits already. With a fireplace, even. Maybe Hunter can cut us the wood. Poppy would supervise. Then it’ll be ideal. And close enough for you to keep on eye on me and Poppy, and far enough he won’t be going over there all the time.”

  Taking a breath, Lori said, “Well, it’d be a great place to raise my kids, that’s for sure. We’ll have to think about it, I’ll talk to Hunter...”

  “Oh, he’s ready for a place in the country,” Ilene said.