by Petra Landon
This was the first starship she’d ever set foot on. It was a Spartan ship in some respects, especially when it came to the luxuries of life, but the technological capabilities he hinted at without revealing the details seemed almost surreal to Sila. They had been traveling at sub-light speed, making it impossible to sightsee the stars. The First Commander had been his usual taciturn self during the tour, though he’d unbent enough to explain some of the technical aspects of the ship once he’d fathomed her interest. The few Ur’quay they’d come cross during the tour had saluted their commander and moved on after a curious sidelong glance at his companion.
“Has your Captain decided what to do with me?” she asked him, suddenly conscious of how completely dependent on this alien stranger she had become.
“Our route will take us close to a neutral space station — Keeyor 9 Trade Sphere. Passenger Transports ply their trade there. We will secure you passage to your world from the station.”
“I’ve never been to a Trade Sphere or any other space station before” she remarked, unaccountably relieved that a decision had finally been made about her. This life of limbo was starting to wear thin.
“Neither have I. Perhaps, we will get an opportunity to explore it together if I can spare the time” he suggested, his eyes on the device in his hand.
“I should like that” Sila responded, slowly and a tad shyly, as it hit her how much she would.
t
“When you process emtek … uh,” she paused, attempting to recall what he had called it before, “shtoal for your needs, do you get a by-product?” Sila asked him.
“I believe so, though I do not have much knowledge of the process.” He placed the Examiner device on the floor between them and focused his strange gold eyes on her. “Are you ready to let me test your mind shielding skills?”
She nodded affirmatively, closing her eyes and attempting to relax her body and mind. She could just about pass the lowest skill level on the Examiner now, and only when she focused her entire self on getting through the test.
“I want you to think about a day on your world — just everyday tasks that you do in the course of a regular day. Then, concentrate on shielding just those thoughts. It is but natural for your mind to wander but do not worry about guarding anything else. Just try and protect the details of your life on your world from me.”
Sila focused herself to concentrate intently, even as she sensed the First Commander’s eyes on her. The room was so silent that she could hear his soft breaths in the stillness of it. She could even smell him — a pleasing whiff of spice and herbs, a particular fragrance that she now associated with him.
“You gather vegetation every evening” he announced. Sila could almost see him in her mind’s eye — head cocked at a familiar angle as he contemplated her.
“Your task on your world is to tend to vegetation?” There was a question in his voice.
Sila sighed softly. It looked like she’d have to work much harder to hide even her simplest thoughts from this race of skilled mind-readers.
“Yes, I’m a gatherer” she admitted to him. “On my planet, we are divided into seeders, tenders and gatherers. We all work together to produce the most nutritious food crops that we can.”
The First Commander stared at her blankly, his shock concealed from Sila who had her eyes closed.
“Your people grow food crops?” His voice did not hide his astonishment.
“Yes.” Sila opened her eyes to study him curiously. “How do your people acquire food if you don’t grow it?”
“We synthesize it. We can make it taste like real food, though it is not.”
“We do not possess the technology to synthesize food” she said simply. “Everything grows easily on my world. We barter for what we need at the Trade Exchange on a neighboring planet.”
“You trade the food you grow for other things?” he repeated slowly.
She nodded, puzzled by his reaction. To Sila, farming, while not an exciting profession, was one common to all species and worlds. One needed a steady supply of food to survive and grow a thriving civilization. Perhaps, the technologically advanced Ur’quay did things differently, she mused. The First Commander had talked of food shortages on his world.
“Centuries ago, when the Terran home world faced overpopulation and a lack of resources, groups of our ancestors were sent out to explore prospective planets. They went in search of fertile lands to grow enough food to sustain the home world” she explained the history of her people. “One of these groups came to my planet to settle it. They named it in honor of their original home, the very reason they had been sent out to create a new one — Terra Agri 5, since it was the fifth such world adapted for agriculture. Over time, many of the agricultural planets broke away from the original home world but continued the traditional vocation to grow food crops. Almost everyone on my world is involved in this. We’re farmers and do not possess the skills for anything else.”
He listened intently, his unblinking eyes on her, seemingly lost in thought.
“How much food do your people produce?” he inquired eventually.
“We have four growing seasons where we produce different crops.”
“How much approximately, per season?” he persisted.
She named a quantity that he estimated would feed one fifth of Ur’Qia’s population for a month.
“What do you use the shtoal for?” he asked, conscious that she had been wary of revealing this information to him before.
“It is used as the building material for structures to protect saplings and plants that need special attention” Sila answered easily this time, a sign of her comfort and trust in him. “We’ve discovered that it helps to regulate temperature and provide protection from the elements.”
“Do you have a lot of shtoal on your world?” he asked.
“There is enough for our needs, but I don’t know how much is available.”
He nodded again, his mind pondering her answers.
“This shtoal” she began hesitantly.
“Yes, what about it?” He was encouraging.
“It leaves behind a malleable residue when processed. Could you get me some residue from the samples your people picked up from my planet?”
“How much do you need?”
Sila used her hands to measure out a small amount.
“I will get it for you” he assured her.
t
“How much loyalty do your people owe the Alliance?” the First Commander asked.
The query caused Sila to open her eyes and stare at him, forgetting to focus on the mind shielding exercise the First Commander was testing her on.
“Do not let out your thoughts” he warned her. “You should be able to guard your mind as well as carry on a conversation simultaneously” he noted in some amusement.
She closed her eyes again, to focus on shoring up the holes in the mental shields that had sprung up at her lack of concentration.
“We do not know the Alliance at all” she answered. “They came to our world and declared us part of the Alliance, like they did to all the neighboring planets. They assured us that we could depend on them to protect our planet should anyone try to invade us. Then, they left and we’ve not seen or heard from them since.”
“They asked for nothing in return?” he pressed Sila.
“No, they said that we had nothing of interest to them. I have heard though that they mine something on the neighboring planet whose Trade Exchange we go to.”
“Would your people be willing to trade with others, even if it went against the Alliance?”
“I think so” she said slowly, but confidently. “The Alliance doesn’t seem to care much about us and we will trade with anyone who values what we produce.”
“All right, you can drop your shields now” he directed. “You are making definite progress though some thoughts, mostly feelings, leak through when there is a lapse in concentration.”
Sila relaxed, pleased by t
he compliment. She practiced obsessively in the room when she was by herself. With nothing to occupy her, the work kept her from giving in to her occasional fears. Her skill at shielding her mind was getting stronger every day, thanks to his patient tutoring and the aid of the Mind Examiner.
The First Commander reached for the Examiner device to calibrate it for the next set of exercises. The close-fitting tunic he wore moved with his body when he adjusted his posture; the ripple of his chest and stomach muscles evident every time they flexed. It reminded her of the shimmering scales of his armor. His long, rust-colored hair hung straight down, like a curtain of fine silk around him. He had never disrobed in her presence after the first time. Instead, he’d change into tunic and trousers in the shower enclosure when he returned from his shift to rest. Sila watched with helpless fascination, her eyes drawn irresistibly to him, as one big palm cradled the device while the long fingers fiddled carefully with the controls. His eyes snapped up to meet her gaze, the huge body abruptly still — the strange gold eyes with the elliptical pupils holding her transfixed. He stared into her eyes for what seemed an eternity, until he recollected himself. A smile played about his lips, deepening the groves around his mouth, when he turned his attention back to the Examiner in his hand. Sila took a deep breath, trying to calm her galloping heart.
“First Commander, could I ask you a personal question?” she inquired, somewhat tentatively.
He nodded affirmatively without looking up from his task.
“Did your Captain command you to move me into your chamber?”
He glanced up at her words, with an expression indicative of surprise. He had been expecting a very different kind of question.
“No” he said abruptly.
“Then, why …?” she hesitated, trying to find the right words.
He went back to fiddling with the device in his hand.
“He made me responsible for you. The holding cell is not an appropriate place, not for you. There are no spare rest-chambers on this starship. So, I brought you here” he stated simply.
This time, Sila did not hesitate.
“Thank you for everything, First Commander. I will never forget your kindness.” Her words were heartfelt.
He glanced up to meet her eyes, his lips twisting with self-deprecation.
“I’m a warrior. I am not kind” he declared brusquely, the growl back in his voice.
“I think you’re both” Sila stated with quiet confidence.
t
“First Commander, could I borrow one of your weapons for a few days?” Sila asked hopefully, her eyes closed with the effort of holding up her mental shields. While she had gotten better at preventing specific thoughts from seeping through, she still had to close her eyes to escape other distractions and focus on the shields.
“You want to borrow one of my weapons?” He sounded bemused.
“Yes, a simple dagger if you have one. I would prefer a blunt dagger to a sharper one though” she added, still concentrating hard.
For a moment, he said nothing, merely contemplating her silently.
“Do you mean to try to escape this ship or perhaps make an attempt to disable me?” he asked, the guttural tones carefully neutral.
“No” Sila protested vehemently, her focus on maintaining the mental barriers all but forgotten in her anxiety to disabuse him of the notion that she meant him or his people any harm.
“Ah ah” he admonished. “Your thoughts are slipping, little Terran. I think I’m beginning to get a glimpse of what a gatherer’s job involves.”
Sila’s eyes widened, as she stared at him in astonishment. She had never seen this light-hearted side of the First Commander. He was always very direct and matter-of-fact in his dealings with her.
“Did you just distract me from holding up my mental shields?” she asked him, mildly outraged by the tactic.
The First Commander merely looked mysterious in response. “Perhaps. If I had known that you are so easily distracted, little Terran, I would have tried the method much earlier.”
“Hmm.” Sila shook her head, attempting to make sense of the puzzle. “You don’t really believe that I would try to harm you, First Commander?”
“I don’t think you could even if you wanted to” he declared, his amusement pronounced.
“But I don’t think you want to” he amended, responding to the indignant expression on her face. “So, why do you want a dagger?”
“I need something similar to a blunt dagger to work the shtoal residue you brought me” she muttered, a little embarrassed at being teased so easily.
“My weapons are a little more sophisticated than a dagger but if you can sketch what you need, I will synthesize it for you.”
t
“We will be at the Trade Sphere tomorrow” the First Commander remarked from his prone position on the floor, startling Sila who’d assumed that he was asleep.
He had bathed and changed as usual after his shift but this evening, he had been unusually reticent. For the first time, he had made for his pallet on the ground without any of his usual greetings or small talk. Assuming him to be preoccupied or weary, Sila had turned down the lights as he’d taught her to do, to allow him to rest.
“Oh” she mumbled numbly, an inexplicable sense of loss threading through her at the thought of moving on from this strange existence she’d been living, since her capture by the Ur’quay.
“I will take you to the Trade Sphere and arrange your passage home” he announced in the darkness.
Sila lay silent, mulling over the twenty days spent as a captive aboard this starship. Granted most of her time had been spent locked in this room but that had been due to her inability to guard her mind. With a ship full of potential mind-readers, she’d have run afoul of Ur’quay law had any of the others detected her stray thoughts.
“You must be looking forward to going home” the First Commander remarked.
“Yes” she responded briefly, trying to hide her baffling hesitation and confusion from him.
“Is there someone waiting for you at home?” he asked softly.
“Waiting for me?” She did not comprehend his query, preoccupied by her attempts to come to grips with the unfathomable sense of loss in her.
The First Commander was usually strict with his mental shields in her company. She knew that he made sure to barricade his mind with her, to prevent her thoughts from leaking through to him. Yet, Sila focused on hiding this new feeling, desperate for him to not detect it until she could make sense of it herself.
“Like a family” he clarified.
“No, my family has been gone a long time.”
“What about a mate?” he persisted.
“One was chosen for me by the Elders, as is done on my world, but he died in an accident before we could be bound.”
Silence stretched between them again, the First Commander lost in his thoughts and Sila focused fiercely on utilizing all of the new skills learnt during the days of captivity to shield hers.
To distract herself, Sila gave her curiosity free rein. “What about you, First Commander. Are you married?”
I don’t even know how old he is.
“I am in my prime” he said quietly in the dark. “I do not understand married.”
“Oh.” At this new confirmation that he was able to pick up on her thoughts, she doubled her efforts at guarding her mind. “Bound to a mate for life. Is that something your people do?”
“Yes, we do mate for life. But no, I am not bound to anyone. Space Force warriors are not eligible to choose a mate or have younglings until we are done with active duty.”
There was another silence in the room as both Terran and Ur’quay tried to process their complicated and mixed emotions regarding her moving on from his starship.
“Are you attempting to hide your thoughts from me, little Terran?” he asked suddenly.
Sila took a deep breath. “Yes, am I succeeding?”
“I don’t know which ones you ar
e trying to guard but I will not allow any to seep through to me. Will that suffice?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Another short silence pervaded the room. Sila realized that she barely heard the guttural notes in his voice any more, now that she was used to his language and him. Their conversations were always facilitated by the translation device, but she suspected that he could comprehend basic Alliance Standard, since he seemed to gauge her thoughts in that tongue.
“Sseela, be careful what you reveal to others about your world and your people” he said abruptly. “The war between the Alliance and the Budh-Ketaari Empire has created a shortage of food and resources everywhere. Some might be tempted to raid your world, especially if they realize that the Alliance is an absent protector.”
“I understand, First Commander” she acknowledged slowly, grateful to him for the warning.
“Rest now. We will work through some more exercises and I will calibrate an Examiner device for you to take back with you for practice.”
“Thank you” Sila said, struggling to keep the unwarranted tears at bay.
THREE
Six standard months later
Sila glanced around her, trying to calm her racing heart. Beside her, she could sense Elder Arturo engage in a similar attempt to tamp down his emotions. It would not do to arouse the suspicions of their Keeyori hosts. The fate of all Terrans rested on them — she could not afford to stumble. Not one for games of chance, she had nevertheless gambled heavily on this play, risking everything on the word of an alien starfarer she had once spent twenty days with, aboard his starship. Terror clutched her in a vice grip. The stakes were much too high.
This was only the second starship she’d set foot on. Well third actually, Sila reminded herself, if one counted the Passenger Transport that had ferried her back to her world from Keeyor 9 Trade Sphere. That had been almost six months ago. The Matura had appeared over their skies a week ago. With a fresh coat of paint on its hull, the ship had appeared spiffy, passing muster on approach but the interior looked shabby and refurbished. To Sila’s critical eyes, the ship seemed crammed with junk and old parts. In his unctuous manner, the sleazy Captain explained to Sila and Elder Arturo that his ship was full of cargo from the inter-planetary trade that Matura engaged in. But Sila had the horrible suspicion that his cargo was stolen or raided from other defenseless planets and people.