Sades

by S. H. Jucha

  “Should we offer any preliminary console operations?” Bethley softly asked Aputi.

  “Absolutely not,” Aputi replied, in consternation. “We mustn’t teach them. Run your queries and record what you need. They’ll have to be satisfied with observing your lightning speeds on the console.”

  As the SADEs approached the console, a few aliens laid their weapons aside or holstered them and pulled out recorders.

  “Class is in session,” Aputi grumbled, when he saw the SADEs’ actions were about to be memorialized from several angles.

  “Do we proceed, Lieutenant?” Killian asked.

  “Yes. No turning back now,” Aputi replied.

  Killian and Bethley set about running the queries that Esteban and Juliette had run before them to locate the lost domes. They dimmed the overhead star display with the panel’s first query level. Then Killian opened his mouth and played an audio segment to trigger the second level of the query.

  Bethley focused on the overhead display, recording the images, which would be matched to the fleet’s telemetry.

  After almost an hour of querying the console with alliance records, an alien bellowed mournfully. The gold-banded alien stepped into the views of those at the console and slashed his hand down, which froze Aputi and the SADEs.

  Wes gripped his Loopah weapon, primed to target the alien leader.

  In the hush that followed, the recordists slipped small objects from their devices and stuck new ones inside. Then the leader flipped a hand into the air.

  “The students are ready for us to proceed,” Aputi mumbled.

  Bethley sent to Killian.

  The SADEs continued until they were instructed to stop again by the alien leader. It was during the third session that the SADEs finished their queries before the recordists voiced their need for the visitors to halt.

  “Now, we need a cube,” Aputi said. He gestured to the gold-horned alien. First, his hands indicated the size of a cube. Then he pointed below deck.

  One of the recordists understood, bellowed, and headed below. His hooves rang on the metal deck. Soon the alien returned with a bag of cubes.

  Aputi smiled at the alien, not knowing if that was an appropriate gesture. He selected a cube and prepared a panel to record. “Any particular message, Major?” he asked.

  “We’re coming home. Turn off the weapons,” Wes replied.

  When Aputi set the cube to record, he heard the major repeat his message. This time, it came from Killian’s mouth. Aputi and the aliens thought that was humorous.

  Aputi ended the recording, picked up the cube, and deposited it on the platform on which they’d arrived. When he retrieved his weapons from the platform, Killian initiated the gate.

  “Killian, set the gate for delayed activation,” Aputi requested. “Estimate the time for our message to be retrieved, read, and the weapons deactivated.”

  “Done,” Killian replied.

  Aputi turned toward the gold-banded alien. He snapped to attention and gave the leader a spacer’s salute. In turn, the alien thumped his chest with a fist, returning the salute.

  “Get aboard,” Aputi said, as he backed away from the console with the SADEs.

  The Omnians and Aputi stepped onto the platform.

  Immediately, the recordists, who Aputi took to be scientists, rushed to the console.

  As one scientist reached toward the visitors’ gate control panel, Aputi yelled, “No.” His shout startled the alien and halted the individuals’ actions long enough for the countdown to finish and the gate to fire.

  The horned leader stepped toward the platform, where the visitors disappeared. “Ironic,” he said to his citizens. “Magnificent aliens appear. Their beauty is remarkable, and they’re formidable adversaries, worthy of battle. Then allies appear, and they’re the ugliest aliens one could imagine.” He shuddered and turned toward the scientists. “Tell me what you learned,” he said.

  * * * * *

  “Good news, we’re alive,” Aputi commented soberly, when the group appeared in the alliance dome and the beam weapons hadn’t fired.

  The dome administrator waddled forward. “All went well?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Aputi replied quickly, cutting off Wes, who was about to speak. “If you’ll send for our companions, we must return to the fleet.”

  “I’ve requested your friends be brought to the deck,” the administrator said, after murmuring softly for her ear wig’s pick up.

  Aputi could see the administrator was about to ask a question, and he interrupted her. “Have you received a message about the battleships?”

  “No,” the administrator replied. “Do you know something?”

  “Nothing,” Aputi replied. “The information we retrieved will aid us in the hunt.” He saw Deirdre’s head appear above the deck, as she ascended the ramp. “We thank you for your assistance,” he said hurriedly. “We must be going.”

  The Omnians took Aputi’s hint. They smiled at the administrator and followed Aputi to the exit platform. As soon as everyone stepped onto the platform, it was activated.

  The strange quiet of the team, who’d journeyed to the non-alliance dome, kept the others from asking questions.

  Even as the group boarded a Hyronzy shuttle for the station, the silence was maintained. It wasn’t until they boarded a traveler that it ended.

  “Okay, what happened?” Deirdre demanded, standing in the aisle at the front of the main cabin and facing the team.

  “We broke alliance protocols,” Aputi said apologetically.

  “No!” Ophelia exclaimed. She clamped her gates closed to keep from sharing her profound disappointment.

  “I need details,” Deirdre declared.

  “We walked into, or should I say dropped into, the middle of a firefight, Admiral,” Wes explained. “Horned, bovine-like aliens were battling the Colony. We joined the horned aliens and put down the insectoids.”

  “Then you didn’t get the data,” Ophelia surmised, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “We did,” Killian replied, wincing.

  “But you’d have had to demonstrate the console’s operation in front of the aliens,” Ophelia objected.

  “I requested the SADEs do it,” Aputi replied.

  “Lieutenant, do you know what you’ve done?” Ophelia demanded angrily.

  “Hold a moment, Commandant,” Deirdre said sternly.

  “It should be noted that the insectoids were already present,” Wes said. “Surely, they demonstrated the dome’s purpose to the horned aliens first. By our timely arrival, we prevented the Colony from overtaking the dome and the planet. Then the SADEs locked them out. What would you have had us do, Commandant?”

  Ophelia had kept her gates tight to prevent sharing her anger. Now, she slipped them open. Initially, she thought the Omnians’ heated emotions were the entire extent of their sendings, but sympathy was in the mix. Then it occurred to her, the Omnians didn’t like her reaction to Aputi. They’d adopted him as one of their own for his efforts, and she remained on the outside, a noncombatant.

  “Commandant, we’re new to your region of space, and perhaps we don’t understand some of the nuances of your first-contact protocols,” Killian said. “However, on first take, it appears to us that the Tsargit might not benefit from some of its rules. This protocol that you’re worried about proclaims that you must not contact an emerging race. They must learn their dome and contact an alliance race through the dome’s gates. On the other hand, if you had reached out to these races after they achieved spaceflight, you could have educated them about the dome and warned them of the Colony’s advance. Do you not realize that your existing protocols give the advantage to the Colony?”

  “Here is my suggestion,” Patrice said. “Only the ten of us know about the encounter in
the non-alliance dome. While I normally wouldn’t countenance this type of action, I suggest we never discuss this with an alliance member ... ever. The SADEs retrieved the data. Our journey was successful. End of story.”

  “Patrice is right, Admiral,” Wes said. “Our presence in alliance territory has been disruptive enough. We don’t need the Tsargit membership in an uproar about their protocols being broken ... protocols I don’t think have done them any good.” Wes delivered his last remark directly to Ophelia, and she could sense the intensity behind his words.

  “Besides,” Wes continued, “how long before those aliens learn to operate their gates?” He regarded the SADEs for an answer.

  “I would estimate that they’ve only recently gained their dome,” Bethley replied. “While they did record us, we performed a limited number of functions. It was only that we executed them in a repetitive manner. It will be a while before they learn to operate the console and even longer before they test a gate.”

  “Are you good with Patrice’s suggestion, Commandant?” Deirdre asked.

  “No ... maybe ... I don’t know. I have to think on this,” Ophelia replied. She glanced at Aputi, whose eyes were downcast.

  The Omnians witnessed the brief exchange, and their emotions intensified. The strength was great enough that Ophelia shut her gates again.

  “Think on this, Commandant,” Deirdre said evenly but in a command voice. “You can report our action to the Tsargit council. They can get upset and sanction the Pyreans for participating in the encounter. Then Alex can get incensed with the alliance and choose to take his fleets and his tech home.”

  While Deirdre didn’t think that would be Alex’s reaction, she was sure that Ophelia didn’t know that. Then it was Ophelia’s turn to avert her eyes.

  19: Outside the Box

  Before the Freedom sailed for Sylia to retrieve the thousand troopers, Mickey said to Miriam, “I don’t want to see more defenders and more of our people killed hunting the insectoids. Think outside the box. How can we help them, and what assets do we need from Alex’s ship before it sails?”

  Time was short for Miriam. She organized a significant group of SADEs and engineering teams from the city-ship, who loaded travelers with an assortment of material and equipment. They descended on Jess’s compound, as the Freedom sailed. The group used their shuttles as planning sites, utilizing holo-vids to acquaint Mickey and the freighter captains with their suggestions.

  Mickey saw several prototypes that appealed to him. From those selections, the teams created their supply lists.

  To the freighter captains, Mickey announced, “Time your cargo crews dusted off their environment suits and earned their stipends.”

  A captain replied, “Are you kidding, Mickey? Our crews are dying for some work. They’re bored.”

  Freighter shuttles landed outside the compound’s fenced area with cargo and offloaded their supplies.

  Jess was forced to tie up troops to guard the new landing zone, and he wasn’t happy about it.

  Tacnock had observed Jess’s growing frustrations, and one morning he chose to join his friend and sat on a crate next to him.

  “Jess,” Tacnock said, “Mickey’s work could help us in the long run. Don’t forget, we’ve a massive problem to solve here. Then we’ve got two more systems to go. Worse, what if other domes have been lost, while we’ve been on Pimbor?”

  “How do we know that what Mickey creates will even help us?” Jess complained.

  “Have you talked to Mickey? Have you even asked a SADE?” Tacnock accused. When Jess grumbled, Tacnock ended with, “I thought not.”

  Tacnock caught Jess’s frown. He considered the idea that something else was amiss in his friend’s demeanor. “Oh wait,” he said. “You’re not just annoyed with Mickey. You’re missing Lucia.”

  Tacnock flashed his teeth. He hopped away from Jess’s hand, which had been aimed at his shoulder.

  “Imagine that,” Tacnock chided. “For years on his human world, no Pyrean woman interested him as a mate. It takes being stranded on Sylia, and the arrival of a warship commodore from a faraway world to capture his attention.”

  “Jatouche,” Jess muttered. It was his remonstration against his friend, when Tacnock delved into his darker moods. There had been many of those moments on Sylia, where Kasie and he were the only humans.

  Tacnock walked away humming a tune. He was happy for Jess, but he had no idea how it would work out for them. In his mind, he saw Alex and the Omnians sailing for home one day.

  Mickey befriended Phette, who had put the engineer in touch with the compound’s communication center.

  A tower stood tall in the middle of the compound, but the only other structure on the surface was the solar power supply. The three levels of the control center were belowground.

  Together, Mickey and Phette coordinated the ordering of raw material from Pimborian freighters.

  After the destruction of the Colony’s transports, freighters from the outer belt and moons were sailing, once again, for the home world.

  Shuttles from the Pim freighters touched down on the nearby base, and Jess utilized more troops to guard the landing zone and the transports that flowed between the base and the compound. The employment of Jess’s troops to guard the expanded effort meant that the insectoid hunt temporarily ground to a halt.

  Bored and with little else to do, Jess made a visit to Mickey’s operation. It surprised him to see the extent of the work underway. He noticed that the majority of the individuals were SADEs.

  “They work around the chronometer,” Mickey said, coming up behind Jess. “It keeps them occupied, which helps their thought processes.”

  “Is that often a problem?” Jess asked.

  “Think about all the thoughts you’ve had since you were born,” Mickey replied. “Now, imagine you’re a SADE. Those entire ruminations would have occurred to you in a few ticks of time ad infinitum.”

  “So, working with their hands helps them focus on mundane things,” Jess reasoned.

  “In a manner,” Mickey replied, “but only partially. The SADEs occupy much of their time communing, and they’ve found one intriguing thing to occupy their kernels about alliance space.”

  “They’re fascinated with the alliance races?” Jess asked.

  Mickey laughed politely. “No, Captain, biologicals don’t hold much interest for them, unless they’re named Alex, Renée, Tatia —”

  “Or Mickey?” Jess proposed.

  “I do have that distinction,” Mickey allowed. “But no, Captain, the domes fascinate the SADEs. They’re challenged to understand what the Messinants have created. In time, they’ll solve the domes’ mysteries and use what they’ll have learned.”

  Mickey let Jess gaze around the broad temporary shelter that had been created. Shuttles ringed the structure and provided the power to the lab areas.

  “I take it you came to see our progress, Captain,” Mickey said. “I’d have expected you sooner.”

  “Sorry, Mickey, I should have come earlier,” Jess said.

  Mickey didn’t bother to reply. Juliette and Esteban had kept him apprised of Jess’s darkening moods. In response to the SADEs’ concerns, he’d said, “The captain will come here when he’s ready.”

  Mickey wandered behind Jess, while he perused the lab tables and heavy construction areas.

  “What’s this?” asked Jess, who was intrigued by what appeared to be a sophisticated weapon.

  “That’s a sniffer,” Mickey replied proudly.

  “What does it scent?” Jess asked.

  “Insectoids,” Mickey said, grinning and winking.

  “Does it work?” Jess asked. Around him, the work area noises ceased. Jess saw SADEs and humans staring at him. “Just kidding,” he extemporized. “I wanted to see who was listening.” He was relieved to hear human laughter and a cacophony of SADE noises.

  Mickey chuckled at the captain’s quick recovery. It demonstrated his exposure to Juliette and Esteban. />
  “Captain, the SADEs analyzed the biochemical emanations from insectoids, both reds and grays, and programmed the sniffer’s app to respond to detection,” Mickey explained.

  “Why simply a barrel?” Jess inquired.

  “To give it directionality,” Mickey said. “How else could you employ it as a location device?”

  “I understand that,” Jess said, “but I don’t see readout or some means of understanding the strength of the sniffer’s detection.”

  “Oh, I see,” Mickey exclaimed. “This tool isn’t meant to be used by biologicals. It’ll be mounted on a shadow.”

  “A what?” Jess asked. Just then Jess felt a tap on the back of his knee. Sliding his launcher off his shoulder and whirling around, he took aim at the offender.

  Mickey’s shadow stood about a meter high on multiple legs. The optical sensors on its small head gazed up at him.

  “Quick reflexes, Captain,” Mickey commented. He mentally castigated himself for surprising a man who’d been immersed in hunting insectoids for months.

  “This is a shadow, I take it?” Jess asked rhetorically, as he slipped his launcher strap over his shoulder. He stared at the spider-like creation. “What powers it?”

  “Power crystals and a grav cell,” Mickey replied. “The same thing that’s inside every SADE.”

  “So, the sniffer mounts on the shadow, and the intelligence within the shadow directs us toward the insectoids,” Jess summarized.

  Mickey frowned. “No, Captain. Step over here.”

  At another work area, SADEs and humans stepped aside for Mickey and Jess.

  “The power crystals supply energy to this four-headed laser, which we’ll mount on the shadow,” Mickey explained. “The shadows can hunt the insectoids by themselves.”

  Jess stared at the lasers and the shadow, which had followed them. He envisaged the obstacles that the shadow might encounter. He realized that, although Mickey and his teams might be brilliant engineers, they hadn’t hunted the insectoids through buildings and brush.