The Best Defense (near-future HFY) - One Giant Leap 15: Face to Face
Preceptor Ulan Star-Chaser Trentalian
Date: 4th of Verdant Change, 7th Year of the Rampant Fallat
Location: Scout Vessel Through the Light of the Third Moon, patrolling Stellar Wild 4362.41
“Deep-shine detected, Preceptor.”
Ulan Trentalian, Reliable Among Keepers, turned in surprise at the taskmaster’s announcement. “Show me.”
“Yes, Preceptor.” Taskmaster Kal Torth, Humble Among Protectors, was visibly forcing himself to remain calm as he manipulated the holo-display. “From its position, it appears to have transited from Wild 4362.35.”
Trentalian frowned. “That is a very long jump through the Deep. Their penance period will be rough. Is it one of ours?”
“I do not believe so,” Torth replied, a hint of a snarl in his voice. The krang was young, and his hackles were raised as he readied himself for a fight. “The drive signature appears to be Great Heretic.”
“Overseer?” Trentalian called out.
“Verifying.” Vintral Rast, Diligent Among Keepers and overseer of the ship, manipulated his own display. “I confirm, Preceptor. But it is not one of their military scouts. The computer gives it a high likelihood of being a Librarian scout.”
“Easy prey!” Torth flexed his fingers. “With their long penance for breaching the Deep, we could be on them before they have a chance to jump again!”
Trentalian studied the display, then slowly shook his head. “No. Calm yourself, Taskmaster. We are too far across the system to close with them. They would spot us coming and would likely be able to stay away long enough to jump. If we were closer, it might be worth exposing ourselves.”
“But–” With effort, Torth broke off his protest. He might be of a higher caste, but his position — and more importantly, his sphere — placed him lower in the Light than Trentalian. “Yes, Reliance.”
Trentalian nodded approvingly. Torth was of a good family with a long tradition of military service in the Light, and he was well-disciplined for someone only ranked at the Sphere of Humility. Trentalian had no doubt that Torth would one day outrank him and merit his own ship.
“I understand your frustration, Torth,” Trentalian said out loud. “It is difficult to see something so easily taken be let go. But it is important to think of the larger picture.”
“The larger vision, Reliance?”
“Indeed. For the Great Heretics to risk such a jump, they must have an urgent mission. And if so . . .” Trentalian manipulated his own display, his long green-skinned fingers moving with the skill and speed of a Grand Temple tlan-player. “Overseer, kindly check this course.”
Rast slowly blinked his smaller set of eyes as he studied the readings. “The computer does not recommend this course. The penance would be great even for us, as would be the strain on our ship. But it is possible, and significantly shorter than all other options. Assuming they are aiming for the closest Great Heretic stronghold.”
“Do we have any assets along that route?”
The granka consulted his files. “No. However, there is a system just over four lightyears away with group of infidel assets, and they have a beacon. They likely could be dispatched to intercept.”
“Send the message. And then prepare to jump to back to Wild System 4362.14 once the Great Heretics have moved on.”
Rast considered him. “Reliance? Our orders were to continue scouting the Great Heretic border systems.”
“Indeed. But I suspect the fleet Overlords will want to know about this. The cursed Librarians found something — something important enough to take this route. The sooner we are back in relay range, the sooner they can dispatch another ship to take advantage of this.”
“For the increase of the Light!” young Torth growled fervently.
Trentalian smiled. “Yes, young Protector. And that is the larger vision.”
Chief Supervisor Holm Dar
Date: 15.7.3.6.218 HC
Location: Librarian Survey Ship Curious Observer, transiting Sector E5J7
Holm Dar was almost halfway through his daily datawork when Healer Senior Journeyman Kolcant decided to interrupt him for his near-daily lecture.
“Greetings, Healer Senior Journeyman,” Holm said, after keying the video feed. His holographic display changed to an image of the lightly-furred farian. “Do you wish to input a formal complaint this time?”
“Stick your sarcasm somewhere unregulated.” Kolcant scowled. “You know exactly why I object to the pace you’re taking, Shipmaster. If Sinak suffers backlash from using his implant too much, we will lose our quickest way back to Hegemony space. Our other two Spacers aren’t nearly as good at psychic navigation as he is. To say nothing of the effect prolonged and frequent bouts of void sickness does to the rest of the crew!”
“And the information we carry is too important to take the longer route,” Holm pointed out, trying to exercise patience. “We either circle away from the border, or we go too close and risk encountering Domination raiders; or we take our current route and push as hard as we dare. The information we possess is too urgent for the first option, and our ship is too lightly-armed for the second. We have to risk a more direct route instead of simply jumping to the closest system that happens to be in the general direction we want to go. We need to get close enough to access a communications beacon, and our psychic range is limited. Our efforts now will save lives in the long run.”
The ornery Healer was an adherent of the Oathkeeper Movement, a near-militant group within the Healers who kept their patients’ well-being above that of their guild’s. It had, of course, a negative view among guild leadership, and not just among the healers. The philosophy did not quite go against regulations that prohibited superstition, but it was seen as too close by many. That was why someone so experienced had such a low rank and an undesirable posting. And it also made appealing to his Guild loyalty next to impossible where his patients were concerned, which is why Holm was attempting to lean on what he knew of Oathkeeper philosophy.
“Yes, yes, the great Domination threat. There’s always a Domination threat. But this is not why I wish to speak to you.”
“Indeed?” Holm flicked an ear. “You decided to vary your complaints?”
“Do you wish me to check your medical records for the last time you had a ulor scan? We could schedule one right now if you wish.”
Holm tried very hard to keep the humor off his snout. Kolcant would no more schedule such an invasive scan for pure spite than he would try breathing vacuum, but one simply did not let Kolcant know this was understood. He might not betray his philosophies, but he had other ways of expressing displeasure — and he was a master of navigating regulation to get what he wanted.
Which, again, was odd for someone with such a low rank. Normally the ones who were so good at manipulating regulation were the ones with ambition.
“There is a problem with Subject Two,” Kolcant continued before Holm could respond. “Her implant is showing distress hormones, and she is exhibiting digestive disruption. If they had better implants I could possibly diagnose it remotely, but you had to go and use simple fauna trackers rather than proper medical devices.”
“Even if we had sufficient spare medical implants for every subject,” Holm pointed out, “they aren’t calibrated for this species. You would have barely any more information than you have now.”
“We would have more information if you had allowed me access to this data sooner rather than playing stupid Guild politics. Since I can’t diagnose this remotely, you must give me access to Subject Two.”
“Absolutely not. That is not your –”
“Hegemony Directive One-Two-Seven-Nine-stroke-Tesh-Twelve-Em. In cases of biological safety, such as potential disease outbreaks, the ranking Healer or said Healer’s appointed representative has priority access to all biological life on board any ship or station for the purpose of —”
“Enough, Kolcant, or you’ll be violating that oath of yours by giving me an ear-ache.”
“Would you like me to send you the text of the relevant regulation?”
“No.” Holm sighed. “Send it to Nna for proper documentation, but you’re wasting your time. It’s not a virus.”
“How do you know?”
“The subjects’ behavior. We know from their datanet that they are aware of viral and bacterial dangers. They’ll even overreact; it seems they had a global outbreak of an extremely deadly disease almost two cycles ago, and their different tribes all coordinated a response to it to control the outbreak.“
“Impossible. A planetary-scale coordinated response? No Hunter species has ever done that before.“
“And they’ve never launched their own satellites before,” Holm pointed out dryly. “Clearly more Domination influence, though our life science Librarians are divided as to whether the Domination introduced the virus as a means of ritual purification, helped them with the response, or both. I’m sure your Guild will have great interest in the details.
“Regardless, even though the natives have demonstrated clear understanding of health contamination despite their primitive medical technology, the subjects have not treated the ill one as a source of infection. They have also evaded all our questions. We provided them with personal translation devices several periods ago, which did result in more communication between the subjects; but they have taken to using extremely roundabout language on any topic they consider too sensitive to let us hear. They appear to be based on references to shared cultural myths, so it will take us some time to decode their statements. Perhaps it will even have to wait until after we have false intelligence access.”
The farian Healer scowled, the brown-streaked fur on his chin crinkling unpleasantly. “All the more reason for me to examine her without delay.“
Holm idly stroked the light webbing between his fingers. Not for the first time, he wished there was a tank on the Curious Observer large enough for a proper swim. “Very well.”
Kolcant looked surprised. “Really?“
“You’ll just make a regulation case out of it, and I am curious about her condition. I’ll tell Librarian Deputy Supervisor Nna to gas the cargo bay again.”
“No!” Kolcant looked shocked. “Did you even look at the physiological symptoms of tirenian-seven on these humans? They are incapacitated for shifts at minimum, possibly whole periods! And you repeatedly gassed them, leaving them weak and confused. It would interfere with most of the tests I would have to perform.“
“Perhaps you don’t understand the strength of their pack behavior. They have formed a closely-bonded tribe on a level and speed we normally associate with Growers, especially considering how protective they are toward Subject Two. They are also an extremely warlike species, and we suspect that separating them will result in violence. It would be a violation of regulations regarding crew safety if we attempted to remove Subject Two without an armed Farmer escort or prior sedation.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author’s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Kolcant looked away from his screen for a moment, as if checking on something, then looked back at the camera with a satisfied expression. “Then that is the obvious solution.”
“What is?”
“We will get an armed Farmer escort.“
Holm felt like laughing. “Oh, is that the whole? Certainly, we shall just stop at the nearest Farmer outpost.”
“What if I said I could produce an accomplished veteran of the Orbital Combat Agency right now?“
“I would say you are delusional, unless you have hidden an unregulated passenger.”
“On the contrary, Farmer Deputy Journeyman Horpa Gen is a veteran of the campaign last cycle in–” Kolcant glanced off-screen again “– System Five-Kon-Four-Hesh-Seven. Promoted two ranks for his efforts in capturing a Domination habitat with minimal losses. Considering his combat record, he should easily keep the humans in line.“
Holm’s mouth dropped open. “What? Why was I not informed we had an Orbital Combat Agent on the ship?”
“Likely you never asked. And he’s not an Orbital Combat Agent. Not anymore. He’s simply a veteran. The fighting was brutal and he was granted a transfer to the Shipboard Food Production Agency for the duration of his recovery.”
“I still should have been told.”
“Oh, don’t be a hypocrite.“
“What?”
Kolcant contemptuously wrinkled the fur on his shoulders. “We stayed in that system for nearly a demicycle, with all you Librarians running around like headless glicks, smugly refusing to tell us anything about what you had discovered — and you complain that no one told you information you could have accessed simply by checking the personnel files?“
“That’s different.”
“How?“
“I am the shipmaster of a Libr–“
“Yes, yes. And it would be completely unregulated of me to instruct a chief supervisor, of any Guild, on how to properly conduct themselves in such a position.”
Holm glared at him. On the one stroke, despite Kolcant’s low rank, the farian was highly experienced, to say nothing of the benefits of being a farian. They were the oldest and most numerous species in the Hegemony, after all. Holm did not doubt the Healer possessed a great deal of wisdom to offer.
But asking for it was a sign of weakness, and in this situation he elected to go with the least damage to his authority.
“File all relevant forms with Librarian Deputy Supervisor Nna Tss, and you may have Subject Two for the purposes of the relevant regulations.” Holm allowed a trace of smugness on his face. “Provided you are also able to gain Farmer Deputy Journeyman Horpa’s agreement, and he files all relevant forms as well.”
There. That should keep them busy for a while. It was petty, but satisfying.
“Very well.” Kolcant manipulated his interface off-screen. “Done.”
“What?”
“The forms are submitted. Farmer Deputy Supervisor Horpa was gracious enough to fill his out ahead of time, and they arrived at my terminal during our conversation.“
Holm blinked, then scowled. “Very well. Nna will confirm that the forms are in order, and you may examine Subject Two after our next jump.” He terminated the communication before Kolcant could say another word.
Jessica Richards
Date: Pretty sure it’s been over a week
Location: Space, the Final Boredom
“Chin forward. Push.” Hua slowly moved her hands in front of her, palms out. “Breathe. Now down.”
Jessica watched carefully, trying to follow Hua’s movements. Beside her, Ji-min was doing much better, her body looking much more graceful as she followed Hua’s lead, despite the restriction of her increasingly-wrinkled pencil skirt; but then, she already knew tai chi, albeit a different variety. Even Pete was doing pretty well, though he had a lot of false starts or often moved too fast. On Jessica’s other side, though, Nash was having a lot of trouble with his balance and stance. Not that it really made her feel better. She was a dancer, after all. This was basically slow-motion dancing, right?
But it was easier to follow than the much more gym-oriented exercises that Pete, Nash, and Thando used. It wasn’t like she was a stranger to push-ups and sit-ups, but it wasn’t her preferred form of exercise. Unfortunately, the lack of music meant she couldn’t teach anyone her dance routines, even the most basic beginner combinations. You needed at least a click track to stay on time, or else you weren’t so much dancing as flailing gracefully. So she was stuck following other people.
“Hands up. Breathe in. Now right hand down. Breathe out.”
Jessica adjusted the translation earpiece to hear Hua better. It fit pretty well — it was really just a copy of her own Air Pods — but somehow it wasn’t quite right. She didn’t know if that was because of some difference in the actual earpiece or if it was her imagination, but she was acutely conscious of the fact that this wasn’t her real Air Pods. She told herself it didn’t matter, but it still bothered her that the aliens could make something so identical and yet it felt so wrong. Was it some variant on uncanny valley? That was the term, right?
“And down,” Hua said again. “Let us rest.”
Jessica let out a sigh as she sank to the floor. “It’s weird how much of a workout that is.”
Nash grunted. “Very repetitive.”
“It is important to learn a few moves well than many moves not well,” Hua pointed out with a smile. Ever since she’d been able to communicate through more than broken Mandarin to Chris, she’d really opened up. “And it is not as if we have much else to do.”
“Yeah.” Jessica frowned. The incessant boredom had gotten a bit better now that they could all communicate, but there was still very little to do. Pete had said it was a way to weaken a prisoner’s resolve, but somehow she didn’t think the aliens cared that much. They were just cargo on a ship going God knows where. Who cared about keeping cargo entertained? So she had tried to come up with activities, but most of her experience was with elementary kids. “Maybe we can try asking the aliens for a ball again?”
“I am not a dog to chase after balls,” Nash grunted. He did a lot of grunting. Unlike Hua, it had turned out his laconic nature hadn’t been because of translation difficulties.
“They didn’t seem to like the idea the last time they turned you down,” Pete pointed out. “Maybe they think we might use it as a weapon.”
“I think Sam seemed more confused by why we would want a ball.” Jessica shrugged. “I’ll try again when I can.”
“We’d be better off with more clothing,” Manjeet suggested from where he’d been watching them practice. Like most of the others, he hadn’t tried joining in yet, but watching was at least something to do. “These are getting . . . well-used.”
“Do not remind me.” Ji-min made a face. “My nose is stronger now. Much more of this, and my eyes will turn upside-down.”
Nash frowned. “I think that was not turned into Spanish very well. The translation program is being a penis.”
Ji-min giggled. “Yes, it is. I mean that I will go crazy. It has only been a few days. What will I do when I am bigger?”
“How is your bean?” Manjeet asked, using one of the terms they’d taken to using when referring to her pregnancy. He was the closest they had to a doctor, so he’d taken it on himself to monitor her as best he could.
“Still twisting my insides.” Ji-min grimaced. “I do not think the alien food is good for . . . this. But maybe I’m just homesick. I was so much looking forward to my mother’s cow-head soup.”
“Cow . . . head?” Jessica stared at her. “Is that another translation issue?”
“You do not have that in America? Soup with the head-meat of a cow?”
“Um. No. We do not.”
“We don’t either.” Manjeet raised a hand, though he smiled at the same time.
“You are from India,” Ji-min pointed out. “You worship cows, and have spicy everything.”
“Not quite.” Manjeet sighed theatrically. “But I do miss curry.”
“Well, you will all have to try my mother’s cow-head soup.” Then Ji-min’s smile faded. “If . . . we ever can.”
“Were you about to go home?” Jessica asked.
They’d been dancing around the topic for the last several days. Jessica had shared some of her own life with the group, but hadn’t wanted to sound like she just wanted to talk about herself. Most of them had been pretty open about it, with Manjeet, Thando, Hua, and Ricardo talking about their lives. Chris mostly talked about his interests, though — Jessica wasn’t sure he had much of a life outside of anime and YouTube — and Nestir was very open about life in Russia but so far avoided saying anything about his family. And the less said about Katharina’s contributions, the better.
But Ji-min had been almost as cagey as Nash. Jessica knew it was a painful subject, but there was no point in trying to avoid it. It would only fester.
Ji-min was quiet, trying in vain to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt. “Yes,” she said finally. “I was walking from the train station to find a bus to take me to my parents’ village. I don’t know where my bag is. Do you think the aliens have it? I should have changed first. But I wanted . . .”
Jessica reached up to take her hand, and the other woman sank to the floor to lean against Jessica’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.” Ji-min choked back a sob.
Jessica smiled and hugged her. “I mean it’s okay to tell us.”
Ji-min blinked away tears. “I was . . . going to tell my parents.”
“I’m sure they’d be very happy for you.”
“No!” the Korean woman wailed. “They wouldn’t. Yes, they would love me, but . . . my father will be so very disappointed. And Grandmother will lecture me.”
“What? Why?”
“Because . . .” Ji-min ducked her head, and the rest came out as a whisper. “I am . . . not married.”
Jessica waited, then frowned. She looked around at the others, confused. Manjeet was nodding sympathetically. Hua’s hand was over her mouth. Pete’s expression clearly read Ah, now I get it. Even Nash gave a grunt of empathy, though exactly how he managed to grunt empathetically Jessica really wasn’t sure.
“I don’t understand,” she said finally. “What does being married have to do with it? I mean, are they that–” She broke off before she said anything more. She mainly associated that kind of attitude with fundamentalist Christians or Catholics, but she realized she knew basically nothing about Korea.
“South Korea is very big on family ties,” Pete explained quietly. “Well, most of Asia, too. Basically, Western European norms of . . .” His eyes flicked over to the closest camera. “. . . you know, family stuff. We’re the weird ones, and even that’s only recent. It still happens. People are still human. Used to be a lot of Americans and other Westerners would take in the . . . unwanted. Then Korea changed the law in the late eighties. But there’s a lot of stigma on bundles of out-of-wedlock joy. Also divorces. Divorces might actually be worse.”
Jessica frowned. “How do you know all this?”
“My tour in Okinawa, remember? We pick up a lot about the areas we serve in.”
“It is the same in China,” Hua added. “Mostly. Things are changing but . . . not very fast. People my age are understanding, mostly.”
Manjeet nodded again. “Family is important to society. Without family, society is nothing but many people going in the same direction.”
“I am . . . was, an assistant at the South Seoul Prosecutors’ Office,” Ji-min said softly. “My parents were so proud. That’s why I didn’t change first. I wanted them to see the daughter they wanted, before I get dismissed.”
“Dismissed?” Jessica frowned. “They’d fire you over — that?”
Ji-min shrugged. “They will be very apologetic, I am sure. But they cannot have someone with demonstrated immorality handling legal cases. So I thought . . . perhaps it would be better to just leave first. Then the shame would not be so public. But I do not have to worry about that now. Positive awakening, yes?”
That last phrase was much longer in Korean, and Jessica wondered how the alien translators handled that. Considering the grammar issues the aliens themselves had, the human-to-human translations were pretty good. Though the difficulties of idioms, slang, and overly literal translations combined to make conversation interesting, to say the least.
“Well, you’ll have support from us,” Jessica said firmly.
“I just worry about . . . them.” Ji-min pointed at the inner door to the rest of the ship. “What if they–“
The door in question started sliding to the side. Everyone took a step back. Ji-min screamed and hid her face against Jessica’s chest.
“Stay back.” Surprisingly, the words didn’t come from Pete this time, but Nash. “This is different.”
Pete stepped forward to stand next to him, arms spread slightly away from his sides. “Yeah. Thando, Manjeet, Nestir?”
The three other men just nodded and took up their own positions; not as far forward as Pete and Nash, but definitely putting themselves in the way of any danger.
“Different h–” Jessica stopped herself as she realized it. It wasn’t time for their next meal, and there had been no announcement. No pre-recorded auto-Sam telling them to not mess with the drone. As if they didn’t care this time.
Or as if what was in the airlock this time could defend itself much more capably than a rolling robot.
With a whirring buzz sound, two small shapes flew into the room, their cameras clearly tracking everyone. Drones, Jessica realized; the regular kind of drones, like what she was used to seeing on Earth. Except these were larger, quieter, and had two protrusions under their chasses that looked a lot like, well . . . ray guns. Or at least the barrels for them.
Behind them came three figures, all of them different. The first one to step into the cargo bay looked like a human-shaped lizard-person, with blue scales, large eyes, a slightly protruding mouth, and a massive, muscular body. And this one was carrying a gun.
Next came a furred creature, also human-shaped, but smaller and with more foxlike features. He was carrying equipment of some kind.
The third and final figure wasn’t human-shaped at all, and Jessica’s eyes bulged in horrified fascination. The other two might, might be just humans in special suits, but there was no way to fake this . . . thing. It had the color of a mossy rock, and slowly skittered — she had no other word for how it walked — forward on four spindly spider-like legs. Two arms were clasped together in front, almost like a praying mantis. On top of its body was a head with bizzarly alien features, a small mouth, and no less than six eyes that seemed to be independently tracking different people in the room.
For a moment, no one spoke, other than some whispering from Ji-min that Jessica’s translator didn’t pick up. Prayers, maybe? Then, from behind her, Jessica heard Chris’ voice, speaking heavily accented English.
“Greetings from Earth. Take me to your leader!”
Another pause, then some scattered clusters of hysterical laugher from the prisoners. Well, hysterical chuckles, anyway. Jessica was surprised to find herself joining in.
The furred alien stepped forward. “Healer Senior Journeyman Kolcant Pras am I. Here am I for medical examination Subject Two on.”
“Who’s that?” Pete growled.
The monster-spider lifted one of its claws, pointing at Ji-min. “That one.”
Ji-min sobbed and buried her head against Jessica again. Jessica turned instinctively to protect her. “Oh, hell no.”
“You’ll have to go through me,” Pete announced. Nash grunted agreement.
“Compliance,” the reptile guy replied, leveling his gun at Pete. One of the two drones also turned to point at Pete, with the other still covering the rest of the group.
“Wait!” Katharina Wolter pushed her way to the front of the group, surprising everyone. She stood there in her crumpled evening gown, barefoot and defiant. “I am sure we can come to some sort of agreement. Whatever you wish, my husband is a powerful man and I can–“
“Speaking you do not for your group,” the spider-being said. “Observed I have your social dynamics. Negotiation already impossible is, but attempt yours is not also amusing.”
Katharina stomped forward. “How dare you–“
One of the drones zapped her with what looked like a dart made from pure lightning.
