by S. H. Jucha
Kasie’s impatience had gotten the best of her.
The four investigators, with a group of SADEs in tow, were tramping up the ramp of what had originally been dome two. Later, after dome one had been decimated, dome two had assumed the name dome one and was successfully gate-paired with the Re-Gen dome.
The dome had three platforms. Gate one was in the zero position. Gate two was clockwise sixty degrees, and the newly installed gate was counterclockwise sixty degrees.
“I want to know the status of gate three,” Kasie said, as they crossed the deck. “Oh,” she murmured, when they closed on the console.
“It’s dark,” Jodlyne commented, staring at the secondary panel for gate three. “That makes sense. You wouldn’t want an operator not knowing that the journey was unavailable.”
“I wonder if there’s a means of the console telling us why the gate pair is disconnected,” Edmas mused.
The foursome dived into the console menus, with the SADEs carefully recording their actions.
With the comm relays, and the traveler and Trident properly positioned, Luther and Minimalist were able to monitor the humans’ efforts from the Re-Gen dome.
Two cycles later, the investigators had made no progress discovering a console’s method of reporting the gate pairs.
Pia was the first to admit that her role was more of observer and counselor rather than investigator, but an idea that refused to focus had been chewing on her thoughts.
Over a delicious meal of paste, Jodlyne caught Pia staring into the distance.
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Jodlyne remarked, pointing her utensil at Pia’s eyes. “What gives?”
“Hard to say,” Pia said dismissively.
“You don’t get away that easy,” Jodlyne replied chuckling. “Is it about the outpost, Re-Gen, or this dome?”
“No confusion about the outpost. I stay in touch with Mickey, and I can’t do anything about Re-Gen,” Pia replied.
“Well, that simplifies things,” Edmas interjected. “What’s bothering you about our search?”
“As if I understood half of what the three of you are doing on the console,” Pia replied, laughing. “I can follow the procedures, and I can record the actions. That doesn’t mean I comprehend why you pursue the next step.”
“Then what?” Kasie asked.
“That’s just it,” Pia said, with a touch of exasperation. “I can’t explain it, because it won’t crystalize. But I think I saw something that tickled my curiosity. Actually, I think it was several disparate things that I think go together.”
Now the humans and the SADEs were interested. What Pia was describing was the burgeoning of intuition that had often led to the discovery of Messinant secrets.
“How can we help crystalize your thoughts?” Edmas asked earnestly.
“I don’t want you to waste your time,” Pia replied. “Who knows how wayward my thoughts could be about an alien console?”
“You say that, but that’s not what you feel,” Kasie said steadily, while she focused on Pia.
“Aren’t you supposed to notify someone before you do that?” Pia objected.
“It’s ... what do you call it?” Kasie replied, seeking to enlist the SADEs’ help.
“Luther suggests exigent circumstances, Ser,” a SADE replied.
“That’s it. An important moment and all that,” Kasie said triumphantly, which had the other humans laughing.
“What if we perused the menus and submenus for you?” Edmas suggested.
“Yes,” Jodlyne added. “We can flick through the panel contents, one item after another, to compact the list. It might help you connect the items that you’re struggling to associate.”
“It could help,” Pia said.
“Good,” Kasie declared. “We start in the morning. I’m tired of this no-success thing.”
Naturally, Kasie was up before anyone else, and she made plenty of noise, while shelving her bed pedestal in the wall and heading to the refresher.
“I think Kasie’s awake,” Jodlyne murmured.
“What gives you that idea?” Edmas remarked sarcastically.
“I say we put a little paste in the bottom of some plates and disappear up top,” Pia suggested.
“I like the idea,” Jodlyne replied, “except I’m too tired to participate.”
“I wonder if empaths have more energy than other humans,” Edmas mused aloud.
“I think it’s just Kasie,” Pia opined. “I’m next after Kasie,” she added, as she swung her legs over the edge of the pedestal bed.
A half hour later, Kasie was moving swiftly through the menus on the main panel.
Jodlyne caught Pia’s frown and realized that Kasie was working too quickly through the lists.
As Jodlyne stepped to the console, Kasie mumbled, “Sorry, Pia. I’m not a patient person.”
Pia gave Kasie a hug and kept an arm around the empath.
Jodlyne started from the top of the first menu. She’d watch Pia’s face, and a nod from Pia cued her to move on.
It took more than an hour before Pia asked, “What’s under that item?”
“Nothing,” Kasie replied. “That’s the operation to record and play a cube. There’s no submenu.”
Jodlyne paused, waiting for Pia to signal her. When Pia continued to think, Jodlyne opened the item. The screen was dark, except for three tiny icons in the lower left of the screen.
“See,” Kasie declared.
“What?” Edmas pressed, when Pia continued to be silent.
Pia held up a finger, requesting time. “What do the three icons mean?” she asked.
“The first is the play button for a cube,” Kasie replied. “The second is for message record.”
“And the third?” Pia inquired.
“Doesn’t work,” Kasie replied, reaching in front of Jodlyne and touching the small icon. “Nothing happens.”
Suddenly, Kasie had the attention of her three companions, multiple SADEs, and several individuals aboard the outpost.
“What are you thinking, Pia?” Jodlyne prompted.
Pia frowned and chose to voice her unfinished thoughts. “Some cycles ago, we were convinced that shutting down the dome was a matter of finding the input combination within the console,” she said. “However, we discovered that it wasn’t the case.”
Kasie drew breath to comment, but Jodlyne placed a hand on her forearm.
“Edmas, Jodlyne, would you consider a message to all other consoles a general operator requirement or a construction engineer’s need?” Pia queried.
“The latter, definitely,” Edmas replied.
“I agree,” Jodlyne added. “It’s more likely that it would be a troubleshooting technique.”
“Where does this lead you, Pia?” a SADE asked. He was relaying Minimalist’s query.
“To the quest for a tool,” Pia replied promptly. “Just like the devices that shut down the Re-Gen dome.” She chuckled and added, “I envision Messinant engineers walking around with a pouch or belt that’s filled with small tools that they need during a dome’s construction.”
Across alliance space, SADEs reviewed the list of tools that were itemized. Like the shutdown devices, they were unable to find anything remotely fitting the need. Once again, it was evident that they hadn’t spent sufficient time investigating cases, while they identified the larger structures that would support the initiating of new gates.
Luther swiftly rectified that mistake.
“Sers,” a SADE said to the humans next to the console, indicating they retract the console.
Then SADEs flew down the steps to inventory every item in the storeroom, including the cabinetry or shelf that held each tool.
Luther and one other SADE did the same at the Re-Gen dome.
Meanwhile, the foursome sat on the edge of a platform and waited.
<
br /> Eventually, the seven SADEs returned topside with a collection of cases, and Pia, Jodlyne, and Edmas laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Kasie asked.
“We don’t know how to signal the icon,” Pia replied.
“Nor do we know what tool might do that,” Jodlyne said.
“So, the SADEs brought everything that might suit our purposes,” Edmas explained.
Luther’s advice quickly sobered the foursome.
New arrangements were made, and the dome’s investigation was reordered to prepare for emergency evacuation. Environment suits were donned, and four SADEs stood by on the platform deck. Each had been assigned a human.
When the console was restored to its former position, the SADEs opened the cases and displayed their contents on the deck.
The former restrictions were in place. The humans could request a tool to be tested, but only the SADEs could operate them.
Immediately, Kasie pointed to a device and sent,
Edmas and Jodlyne had received Luther’s permission to handle the tools. Carefully, they lifted samples from each case, turned them over and over in their hands, and discussed their possible uses.
Meanwhile, the SADEs compared the tools in an effort to reach consensus.
A SADE held out the two chosen items, and Pia and Kasie joined the engineers.
Kasie finished.
If Luther and Minimalist had been human, they would have released great sighs. To the SADEs at dome one, Luther sent a signal to standby for emergency evacuation. Then he sent his approval to test the beam device.
The emergency-evacuation SADEs closed on their charges, standing just behind them.
Then the SADE who’d held the two choices approached the console. He pointed the beam at the unknown icon and squeezed the small, recessed button.
Immediately, the screen flashed to be replaced by a list.
Faceplates were retracted, and the foursome returned to conversations.
Without waiting for approval, Kasie touched the first item in the list. The face of a Messinant appeared above the panel. The individual spoke in a perfunctory manner for a few seconds, and then the image disappeared.
Edmas laughed loud and hard. “I think we just heard a status report from a Messinant engineer,” he said.
“How do you know?” Kasie asked.
“That’s the way engineers speak to one another,” Jodlyne said, adding her own laughter. “It’s short and to the point.”
Kasie touched the next item on the list. Again, a Messinant spoke. “Why is it repeating?”
Kasie’s disappointment grew, as she went down the list and encountered the same short reports from more Messinants. “I thought we found what the Colony was using,” she said, after nearly a half hour of working down the list.
“May we?” Jodlyne asked, indicating the panel.
As Edmas and Jodlyne crowded over the display, Jodlyne said. “There has to be a way to search the list or scroll to the end of it.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Edmas replied.
Jodlyne touched the screen in a bare space, and a small entry window appeared.
“Anyone know today’s date in Messinant time?” Edmas jokingly called over his shoulder.
“No, but we know the glyphs for final or end,” a SADE replied.
The foursome received the image, and Kasie inserted the glyph neatly into the window.
The display blinked, and another list appeared. However, this time, the list didn’t fill the screen. It ended about two-thirds of the way down.
Jodlyne touched the final item. Above the panel, a red swayed slowly and hissed.
Edmas turned to face the SADE who’d volunteered the glyph, and his eyebrow rose in query.
“Apologies, Edmas,” the SADE replied. “We can’t translate that.”
“Should we send a message?” Kasie asked, having noticed a record icon in the lower right of the panel.
Lucia grinned and relayed the request.
Returning to the conference link, Jess sent,
The conference attendees heard a wail of sirens from the two SADEs. After their exultation, Luther sent,
Edmas grinned at Kasie and pointed at the list of messages on the panel. “Oh,” she muttered. Then over the link, she sent,
Jess and Lucia chuckled. Kasie had just realized that the intent was to use the SADEs’ knowledge of the Colony’s language against them through the message board. There was the distinct possibility of planting false information about the Resistance’s newest tactics and weapons.
The SADE who’d used the activation device to open the message board pointed the beam at the panel, triggered it, and the list disappeared to be replaced by the original display for playing and recording cubes.
“That’s rather disappointing,” Pia commented, to which Kasie nodded. “We make this wonderful discovery, and it’s of no immediate use.”
14: Omnia
Hours from the end of transit, Renée, Maria, Julien, Hector, and Oliver sat with Alex in the Our People’s owner suite.
“Omnia should be an easy stop for you, Alex. Why the concerns?” Maria inquired.
“Conclave representation is a matter of who wants to come,” Renée replied. “That’s not the issue.”
“Is it the future of Omnia Ships?” Oliver asked.
“Partially, but I’m thinking of Omnia,” Alex replied.
“Our presence stifles Omnia�
��s future growth and independence,” Julien said.
“Are you wondering where to move Omnia Ships?” Maria asked. “If I were the New Terran president, I’d invite you to relocate to our system.”
“The same thing would eventually happen,” Alex replied.
Maria laughed long and deep. “Forgive me,” she said, when she could contain herself. “Black space, Alex, move to New Terra. Stay for two decades or five. Whatever the length of time, you’d make an enormous difference in our society, and it would only be for the better. Although, not everyone would agree with me.”
Maria’s final comment was delivered ruefully, and Alex’s mouth quirked. They both knew that the recent election had proven that the citizens were heavily divided on the issue of integration with other worlds, especially alien ones.
“Are you considering moving the fleets or dissolving them?” Hector asked.
“I think it’s much too early to consider inactivating the fleets,” Alex replied. “While I’m convinced that I must relocate Omnia Ships, that won’t happen for a few years. I think the success or failure of the conclave will do a lot to help me with my decision.”
“What of the city-ships?” Hector pursued.
It was Renée’s turn to laugh. “Hector, can you see this man living on a planet?” she asked rhetorically. “We’ll always have city-ships. One day, we’ll probably need a replacement or two.”
“How many representatives?” Maria asked, turning the conversation to something more cheerful.
“I think every race needs to be represented,” Alex replied.
“Every race?” Maria queried.
Alex grinned at Maria and repeated, “Every race.”
Throughout the Celus system, Omnians celebrated the return of Hector’s fleet.
“It’s good to be home,” Renée commented to the others, who were wearing smiles at the jubilant sounds.
While inbound, Alex, Renée, Julien, and Tatia received an update from Cordelia on the status of the Freedom.
The foursome received a lengthy list of the city-ship’s upgrades.