by C H Gideon
The two sides argued on and on as the crew stared at both, wondering what they could say to settle things down.
The chaos that had been present when the Telluride first went on strike returned.
However, things were different this time around.
Jiya noticed that many of the Grindlovians—those who’d been given the powered leg systems—seemed to be arguing for the Tellurides’ acceptance as equals.
She was also happy to note that there were far more of them sporting the legs than there had been when she’d gone on walkabout with the Telluride.
Jiya was equally surprised to find a number of the Telluride arguing for the status quo.
She could see the fear in their eyes, the people afraid to step out of their lives and try something different.
For the first time since this had started, she began to see that the people were more than two disparate groups. They were becoming individuals.
As the arguments escalated, and the crew made ready to step in to keep things from getting worse, a member of the council rolled into the gap between the groups.
Her movement sent silence radiating outward until it had settled over everyone. Jiya remembered her as Fulla Vae.
She turned to face the Grindlovians.
“Is it not time that we recognize those who stand beside us as equals?” she asked.
Stunned silence washed over the crowd.
It didn’t last long.
The voices of the Grindlovians arguing for Telluride subjugation rose in shrieks of protest, setting Jiya’s ears to ringing.
“How can you suggest such a thing?” Fulla Sol screamed at the other councilwoman. “That is preposterous. These people will never be our equals.”
Shouts for and against the statement exploded, devolving into a screaming match. Jiya couldn’t tell who was winning.
Fulla Vae raised her hands for attention. “It is only right that we grant the Telluride their freedom,” she shouted, trying to be heard over the noise.
“And what would we do then?” a random Grindlovian shouted back. “Do you expect us to serve ourselves?” His backers roared their support behind him.
“I do!” Fulla Vae shot back, causing more voices to erupt in protest.
“We are too weak to do anything for ourselves,” another called. “We would fail.”
“Then do as we have,” one in a pair of powered legs suggested, showing the device off. “We can make it on our own,” he argued.
“Who wants to?” another asked, only to be shouted down by those willing to give the new life a chance.
Gorad groaned as he watched them go back and forth, neither side getting more than a foothold into an argument before it was batted aside by the opposing believers.
Finally, he raised his hands and triggered the communication system, managing to get the crowd quieted.
“I see there is still much to be discussed between the individual groups,” he announced. “As such, I believe it best to separate once more and discuss these things privately where there will be no open conflict.”
By that point, the crowd looked ready to comply. They’d had enough, it seemed.
They began to split apart without another word, the Telluride drifting back toward their part of town while the Grindlovians started toward the council chamber, the mass of podium chairs wheeling about and shooting off down the street ahead of the others.
Gorad motioned for the crew to go with the Telluride. “I will speak with the Grindlovians alone,” he explained hesitantly.
Jiya was glad he’d committed to the process, and with greater humanity than she initially thought possible for the AI. Like Reynolds, Gorad was evolving in his ability to deal with sentient life.
Reynolds nodded to Gorad as the alien AI started off after the still-arguing Grindlovians. Jiya knew he was going to be challenged once they reached the council chambers. In the interim, the conflict forced the Grindlovians to be more physically active than before.
Following the Telluride, the crew had its own mess to deal with. While the Telluride were far more passive and openly kind than the Grindlovians, hostility had been brewing, although many wanted nothing more than for life to go back to the way it was. The change was too great, and the friction too much.
They didn’t want any of this, and Jiya felt bad for those folks.
The crew had brought discord to the planet. Unintentionally, but they’d brought it nonetheless.
Now it was on them to resolve it.
In the council chambers, the Grindlovians continued to argue, a small faction cheering on the independence of the Telluride while others argued against it. Both sides showed a fire Gorad had long thought them incapable of.
He was proud of them for that, and equally furious. He was growing weary of the specious arguments and nonsensical fighting.
“You understand that I would be here for you, no matter what, do you not?” Gorad asked, bringing order to the Grindlovians.
“Of that, we have no doubt,” Fulla Sol answered, “but your assistance will not be enough.”
“We have grown too weak for this,” Vor Stygn admitted, and Gorad was surprised to hear the male say such. “The devices, however effective and helpful they might be, are no replacement for the help of a living, breathing being.”
“Then show the Telluride how important you feel them to be, and set them free,” Fulla Vae argued.
“How does it help us keep them if we set them free?” Vor Stygn asked.
“By showing them how much they mean, we will convince them to remain,” Fulla Vae answered. “We need only accept them among us and show them kindness to keep them here.”
“Is that not what we already do?” Fulla Sol scoffed. “What more do they need?”
“To know they are not slaves,” Fulla Vae shot back. “They must be rewarded for their efforts, praised, and thanked, not ignored as if their contribution to our lives means nothing.”
Once again, the crowd burst into argument, but even Gorad could hear the beginnings of compromise.
Not much, he admitted, but it was there, a tentative thread wound between the conflicted Grindlovians.
“It would be too much to let them go and still be expected to contribute,” Vor Stygn argued, turning to glare at Gorad.
“We must do this for ourselves,” Fulla Vae declared, and many of the Grindlovians stood behind her and cheered her statement.
“This does not need to happen all at once,” a Grindlovian in powered legs announced.
“That was what the Telluride said,” Gorad reinforced. “They do not expect to leave or stop serving tomorrow or anytime soon. They need time to prepare; to make ready for another life. Until then, they will continue to serve…if they are treated as equals.”
“Little would change if we offer them the respect they’re due,” Fulla Vae suggested.
Fulla Sol growled, clearly not believing such. “And then they want time off or can’t be bothered to serve us when we need it the most?” Her supporters concurred.
“Then we do it ourselves,” Fulla Vae fired back with a snarl. “We are not above taking care of ourselves.”
A murmur of uncertainty went through the crowd, and Gorad thought maybe they were.
He hoped not, though.
“What would we need as a people to give the Telluride their freedom?” Fulla Vae asked the crowd, purposely cutting Fulla Sol and Vor Stygn out of the loop.
“We would need to be cared for,” one said.
“Just as well as we are now,” another added.
“We would need to grow strong once again,” one of the Grindlovians with the powered legs called. “Even if we don’t care for ourselves, we must be capable.”
“So, if we can find equitable terms for all that to be assured, can you see your way to allowing the Telluride their status as equals?” Fulla Vae asked.
Fulla Sol and Vor Stygn shook their heads, still defiant, as were the remaining council members save for Fulla V
ae, but many of the Grindlovians nodded and called their conditional support of the proposal, so long as they didn’t lose their helpers.
Gorad grinned.
This might work after all. Still selfish, but open...
Chapter Eighteen
After Gorad had calmed the Grindlovians and called Reynolds and the crew back, Jiya and the others stood around, wondering what the Grindlovians had decided.
They didn’t have long to wait to find out.
“I believe we have come to a majority agreement,” Gorad stated. “Or at least a start of one,” he added, glancing at the Grindlovian council. Fulla Vae was off to the side of the council, her physical separation a statement of her rejection of the rest of the council.
Jiya didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
Her memories flowed back to her father again, much as she hated it.
She couldn’t see the reluctant Grindlovian council surrendering to the wishes of the Telluride, even if they did agree to it publicly. A conciliatory lie would be something her father would do, pretending to accept the terms just to violate them at a later point when it worked out best for him.
The glare in Fulla Sol’s eyes and those of the other council members with her gave Jiya pause.
She didn’t trust the female, but Jiya had to believe that once terms were agreed upon, Gorad would enforce them. A neutral third party was something her father was never subject to.
“The Grindlovians agree to consider the Telluride as equals, co-citizens on Grindlevik 3, under the following terms…”
L’Sofee went to argue, hearing the word ‘terms,’ but Jiya raised a hand, asking the female for patience. The Telluride leader nodded, but Jiya could tell she was reluctant to let the Grindlovians set terms for them.
Gorad went on. “The Grindlovians will accept the Telluride as equals if there is a staged withdrawal of their services, not an immediate pull-out.”
L’Sofee nodded, having already expected that would be the case.
“Go on,” L’Sofee said.
Gorad nodded and turned to look at the crew and Reynolds. “The next request might be more complicated,” he said. “The Grindlovians would like us, in concert,” he gestured to himself and the Reynolds crew, “to assist them in preparing their bodies for independence in whatever way possible, so they can be ready when the time comes for the Telluride to leave.”
“We’ll do what we can, of course,” Reynolds answered.
Jiya didn’t know what kind of commitment that statement tied them to, but she couldn’t see Reynolds delaying his Kurtherian mission for long, even to help out.
“What else?” L’Sofee asked, clearly expecting more.
“The Grindlovian council wants the Telluride to leave the city before the staged withdrawal, only those still serving allowed to remain,” Gorad said, and Jiya could tell by the look in his face that he expected that particular term to be the hardest to accept.
He was right.
L’Sofee growled and shook her head. “There are many among us who would stay and do not wish to relocate,” she argued. “This would only be forcing a larger divide between our people than there already is if you make us leave.”
“You don’t expect us to suffer your presence if you are not serving us, do you?” Fulla Sol asked, snarling.
“You misunderstand our purpose then,” L’Sofee told the female. “We do not want to split our peoples, but rather we want to live together in harmony and cooperation, not servitude.”
“These are our terms,” Fulla Sol countered. “Agree, or we will find no middle ground to stand upon.”
“This is hardly middle ground,” L’Sofee complained.
Fulla Sol shrugged, clearly indifferent to the Tellurides’ concerns.
Jiya wanted to reach across the divide and pop the female in the side of her head.
L’Willow leaned into L’Sofee’s ear and whispered something Jiya couldn’t hear. L’Sofee nodded, but she didn’t look happy.
“We accept—”
Unable to control herself, Jiya waved the ad hoc leader to silence before she could commit her people to anything.
“They will accept only if there are protections added into the agreement to keep either side from going back on the agreements at a later date,” she told them.
“You don’t get to dictate terms to us,” Fulla Sol barked.
“I’m as much a part of this as you are now, seeing as how one of your terms requires the assistance of my crew and me,” Jiya explained. “As such, there are expectations on our help.”
Fulla Sol bridled, but she couldn’t argue. She looked ready to choke.
Gorad stepped into the breach.
“I am willing to draft legislation to protect both sides per the agreement,” he told them both.
“Unless you intend to dissolve the Grindlovian council, it makes sense that there should be equal representation on the council for the Telluride.”
Both sides gasped. Jiya knew she was stirring up trouble by pushing for it, but to her, it only made sense. Equals deserved equal representation. Too many times she had seen her father roll over people who didn’t have anyone adequately prepared to protect them from political maneuvering.
“That is simply foolish,” Fulla Sol said, shaking her head. “We will not abide by this. The council rules the city and our people—”
“In which the Telluride will be living and citizens of. ‘Equals’ was the term in your proposal,” Jiya reminded her, raising her hands questioningly. “It’s only fair that they hold positions on the council, or new rules could be enacted without their consent or agreement.”
Gorad overrode the arguments before they began. “I agree. If there is a council that holds any power over the people, which the Telluride are, there must be equal representation or none of these terms can be met.”
Fulla Sol snarled, but she didn’t debate further. Vor Stygn whispered in her ear, but neither said anything.
“Then, if there is no dissent, we appear to have come to terms,” Gorad announced.
The crowd cheered, though Jiya couldn’t help but notice a number on both sides stood rigidly, not celebrating.
She figured it would take time for those not happy with the agreement to eventually decide how they wanted to approach their future.
As she was mired in her thoughts, a message came over the comm.
“Our mystery ship is creeping closer,” XO announced.
“Have Asya prepare to confront it,” Reynolds replied.
“She’s not on the bridge right now.” XO was hesitant in his reply.
“Why is that?” Reynolds nearly shouted, catching himself at the last moment so as not to announce the ship’s problems to the world. “Never mind,” he spat and went over to Gorad. “If you’ve got this in hand, we have something we need to resolve aboard our ship. I’ll be taking the crew, but we will return soon.”
“Of course,” Gorad said, nodding to Reynolds, then to Jiya. “Thank you for your help.”
Reynolds bolted from the meeting. Jiya waved and followed, knowing he was angry. The rest of the crew ran after them, everyone clambering into a hovercraft Gorad had summoned, and they returned to their Pod at best possible speed.
Within a few moments, they were airborne, Reynolds cutting a sharp angle as he piloted the Pod in his rush to return.
Reynolds stormed onto the bridge of the superdreadnought.
“Where is she?” he barked to anyone listening.
“Captain Asya?” Ensign Alcott asked, eyes wide.
“Yes, Asya,” Reynolds clarified. “Where is she?”
“She went in search of coffee,” XO explained.
“Exactly when our stalking Loranian cruiser decided to advance?”
“The ship’s Loranian?” XO asked.
“It is,” Reynolds answered, coming over and dropping heavily into the captain’s chair. “And now our Loranian captain has gone missing.”
Jiya stiffened. “W
ait, what are you implying?”
Maddox and Ka’nak stopped near the door.
“I’m not implying anything,” Reynolds shot back. “I simply don’t believe in coincidences.”
“The ship’s slowed,” Tactical informed them. “It popped out from behind the well for a quick peek, it looks like.”
The bridge doors opened, and Asya walked in. The crew fell silent, all eyes on her.
She stopped, realizing everyone was staring.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, eyes narrowing when she saw everyone staring at her.
“Maddox, Ka’nak,” Reynolds called. “Take Asya to the interrogation room.”
Asya stiffened, clutching the steaming mug in her hand. “What the hell happened while I was gone?” she shouted as the Melowi warrior motioned for her to precede him from the bridge.
Maddox told her gently, “Just come with us, please.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Jiya asked, clearly unable to believe what was happening. “What the hell is going on?”
Reynolds didn’t have time to argue with her. He waved a hand for Maddox to carry on.
Maddox did as he was ordered, and Asya went without a fight, but surprised and hurt expressions waged war on her features.
“Why did you allow her on board if you were going to turn around and lock her up?” Jiya asked, shaking her head in disgust.
“My role is to ensure that everyone aboard the ship is safe,” Reynolds argued. “To have a Loranian ship appear is one thing, but to have it slip out of hiding and advance while our Loranian captain steps away from her duty station requires me to investigate,” he answered, not mincing words.
“So, what? She’s a spy now?”
“That’s what we need to find out,” Reynolds replied. “How did they show up exactly where we did? Would have been easy if they’d been given the coordinates. That makes more sense than a mystical ability to track Gate-drive travel.”
Jiya fired back. “This is ridiculous.”
“Maybe, but I’m not taking any chances,” he said. “We’ve already had crew injured, and I won’t risk more by not doing my due diligence.”
