by S. H. Jucha
Krokticka nodded. “If Mickey’s efforts are successful, is it the intent of Omnians and the outpost to move domes outside of alliance space?” Krokticka asked.
“What if it is?” Alain inquired. This was the question that Jess had asked him to test, and he could think of only one person to ask, which he’d just done.
“I don’t think you could cause a greater disruption within the Tsargit than to inform the members of your intent, Envoy,” Krokticka replied.
“I could point out that domes that might be moved are not in use by any race and probably never will be,” Alain riposted. When Krokticka’s eyes narrowed, he asked, “Are we back to offering the Tsargit or alliance races something in trade?”
“You must always be ready to deal,” Krokticka said. “It’s the way of the races, and the members know what’s required of them by their leaders.”
“Thank you, Krokticka. This has been most helpful,” Alain said sincerely.
“It’s a pleasure to be of service,” Krokticka replied, flashing her teeth.
When Krokticka left the suite, Alain connected to the outpost. He linked with Jess, Lucia, Mickey, and Miriam. Then he quickly updated them on the changes that Krokticka had described.
Alain replied.
Miriam interjected.
“Oops,” Lucia muttered. Her comment was heard across the conference call.
That set the humans howling with their own laughter.
When quiet returned to the call, Alain sent,
Then again, to the attendees from outside alliance space there was the equally impressive offer of new domes and new gates, depending on the success at Re-Gen.
Miriam sent.
Alain sent.
The others wished Alain good fortune, and he closed the link. For a while, he sat and contemplated his choices. He considered a presentation to the membership to be wrong. He didn’t need open divisiveness, with little hope of a successful conclusion. In his mind, he had to approach the council.
Alain sent.
Alain was prepared to wait patiently, but a few minutes later, he received a link.
Miriam laughed lightly.
To Alain, it sounded similar to Méridien women.
Then Miriam sent,
After disconnecting, Alain opened the new link, which requested permission to add an app to his implant, which he accepted. The link installed a search engine that could manage Tsargit storage applications.
After the installation was complete, Alain considered his request and then sent it to the new app. In a shorter time than he would have believed possible, he received a list of the new councilors. “Just what I wanted,” he whispered.
Next Alain queried the records for the members’ political affiliations and computed the ratios. Then he segregated the councilors by the same requirement and compared the two lists. The councilors nicely represented the membership’s three divisions.
“Well, that worked out well,” Alain murmured. Then he asked, “Since when have you taken up whispering to yourself?”
It hit Alain that this was one of the effects of isolation. Neither his crèche mate nor his partner was close enough for instant communications.
“Deal with it,” Alain said firmly into the salon’s silence.
The council was Alain’s target for his announcement. He chose to try another search. Although, he had little expectations of it working. It didn’t. The council’s calendar was revealed, but he was unable to schedule an appointment.
While Alain wondered how he might expedite council contact, without bothering Krokticka, the calendar refreshed. On the following evening, his name and title were entered for a presentation.
Alain smiled to himself.
It was Mickey who had asked Miriam to keep watch. The engineer was sympathetic to what it might mean if Alain couldn’t easily communicate with Étienne and Tatia.
* * * * *
Early the next morning, Jarmonin was made aware of the day’s schedule change by his senior staffer.
“I don’t see the individual responsible for making the appointment,” Jarm
onin objected.
“There isn’t a code associated with Tsargit-approved individuals,” the staffer replied.
“The envoy couldn’t do this,” Jarmonin pointed out.
“No, he couldn’t,” the staffer agreed. He waited for the councilor to come to the same conclusion he had.
“A SADE,” Jarmonin muttered.
“It would seem so,” the staffer said. “Apparently, SADEs don’t need to be on station to manipulate our data.”
It crossed Jarmonin’s mind to delete the entry, but he realized that the schedule would have been reviewed by hundreds of staffers, who would have communicated the change to their representatives. Removing the entry now would only raise questions.
“Let it stand,” Jarmonin said resignedly.
The day passed for the new council with difficulty for Jarmonin. Gone were the old ways of conducting business, when everyone knew their place and what was expected of them. Now new councilors acted as if they were equal to every other councilor. While some had always clamored for it to be that way, tradition allowed greater participation and voice by seniority.
To make matters worse for Jarmonin, he was unable to foresee which way the centrists would break on any given issue. Sometimes they made the majority for the councilors of the elder races, and sometimes they sided with the younger races, which included several members of the consortium.
The consortium councilors were easy for Jarmonin to anticipate. If there was an established tradition or rule, they were probably going to denounce it or ignore it. At the same time, the lead councilor had to appreciate that the consortium, with the efforts of the outpost, had made the greatest leap in economic enterprise in the recent history of alliance space.
As the hour for Envoy de Long’s presentation approached, the thought crossed Jarmonin’s mind that perhaps he was unsuited for the position he held. As an individual who revered its traditions, the Tsargit and, for that matter, alliance space were undergoing rapid changes.
The day’s original calendar came to an end, and the final petitioner exited the council chamber. Then Envoy de Long entered.
Alain greeted the councilors and congratulated them on their elections to the Tsargit’s highest offices.
“Before we begin, Envoy de Long, it’s come to our attention that the outpost supports contact of consortium envoys with races unrecognized by the Tsargit,” a councilor said pointedly.
Alain eyed the questioner, a female member of a Veklock triumvirate. Krokticka had told him that the Veklock had narrowly defeated a Usaanan. Supposedly, the Usaanan trespasses against the outpost had hurt that contender’s opportunity.
“You’re properly informed,” Alain said calmly.
“What do you have to say in defense of your actions?” the Veklock pressed.
“Are you confused by my title, Councilor?” Alain asked. His posture shifted from that of a petitioner to that of a senior captain, who had commanded warships.
None of the councilors missed the change in the envoy’s manner.
“I’m an envoy to the Tsargit,” Alain continued, “and the outpost isn’t a member of this organization. As such, we’re not answerable to your demands or directives. If we’re anything, we’re partners in the development and welfare of alliance space. The Tsargit has its methods, and we have ours.”
Alain’s stare dared the Veklock to say more.
Jarmonin took the opportunity to interject his own query. “Envoy, I’m curious how your appointment entered our calendar,” he said.
“My business before the council is critical,” Alain replied. “In the same respect, it’s a courtesy. I wish to inform the council before the world leaders are made aware of the opportunity.”
Jarmonin recognized that Alain had nicely diverted attention away from his scheduling to the reason he stood before the council.
“Then you’d best begin, Envoy, before our curiosity gets the best of us,” Jarmonin remarked.
Alain announced the formation of the conclave, the world leaders who would be invited, and the economic advantages available to the attendees.
“Your invitation to alliance leaders appears to be premature,” said Jarmonin, when Alain finished. “How are goods and services to be delivered to worlds not connected by gates? Unless the outpost or the Omnians are offering starship technology to alliance races.”
“That’s something to discuss at the conclave, isn’t it?” Alain replied.
“What about your comm systems?” Jorjatok inquired.
“That’s another subject for discussion,” Alain responded.
“Could we expect these discussions to lead to resolutions in our favor?” the Veklock female asked.
“I imagine it’s always a matter of fair trades,” Alain replied. “There are things your races want, and things that the attendees from other areas of space will wish to possess. I assume your leaders would be willing to deal.”
Alain had phrased his announcement to the council in a manner that the councilors understood and desired. Now, he had to communicate the limited opportunity for seats, the desire to have fair representation, and the necessity of being accompanied by SADEs.
20: Queen Homsaff
Queen Homsaff’s command successfully executed a raid on a Colony-held dome. The pilots and her Dischnya employed the same tactics as had the Norsitchian command, which included Ude.
Updates from the other carriers told the queen that her dome attack had taken place within several cycles of the actions of other commands.
“The insectoids haven’t had time to design and implement a new strategy to protect the shuttle tubes,” Squad Leader Simlan commented to Homsaff.
“They’re abandoning the domes so swiftly, I’m wondering if the Colony will even bother defending the domes,” Hessan, the other squad leader, added.
“The evidence suggests the Colony is consolidating positions on habitable worlds,” Homsaff said.
Simlan stroked his lower muzzle, disturbing the collection of sandy gray hairs that were once deep brown. “That’s a defensive strategy. It indicates the insectoids believe they’re losing the war.”
“Or they’re willing to lose this phase to prepare for another iteration,” Homsaff said, and the two squad leaders tipped muzzles in acceptance of their queen’s reasoning.
“Then we must finish the fight once and for all on every planet,” Simlan said with determination.
The Earther carrier captain signaled Homsaff that the ship was approaching the planet, and that she was launching the travelers to survey the world.
“One planet at a time,” Homsaff counseled, “and the pilots will be observing it now.”
The Dischnya adjourned their meeting and headed for the bridge, where they could watch the shuttles’ transmissions.
Coiled at the bridge’s rear lay the serpent elected by the four Usaanans who remained. Of the original ten serpents consigned to punishment to be delivered by the outpost commander, four had been killed in insectoid battles. Two had run away, never to be found, or, more accurately, never to be sought.
The remaining four Usaanans had never communicated the nature of their roles in the trespasses against the outpost.
It was the queen’s theory that these four serpents and possibly others hadn’t been told of their prospective fates, when they were sent to Pyre. Furthermore, she and her squad leaders had begun to doubt that the remaining four were even part of the troubles.
That the four Usaanans might have been sacrificed by their leaders led to a change in the Dischnya’s attitudes toward them. The Dischnya dropped their disdain. In an interesting twist, the Dischnya integrated the Usaanans into their squads. New tactics were invented to make use of the different body types.
As Homsaff and her squad leaders stepped onto the carrier’s bridge, the coiled serpent, Ufloss, rose to half his height. Then he dropped his small head to her. In turn, Homsaff chuffed her approval, and Ufloss returned to his resting position.
The captain t
ransferred the four imaging streams to the holo-vid, placing them in quadrants.
When Ufloss saw the display, he slithered forward, and Simlan and Hessan made room for him.
“This is our next target?” Ufloss inquired, observing Simlan.
The older Dischnya tipped his muzzle, as he studied the imagery.
“No sand,” Ufloss lamented.
“Not much dry ground either,” Hessan pointed out.
“Why here?” Ufloss hissed.
“Good question,” Simlan replied. “The insectoids don’t like water either.”
On the subject of wetlands or deep water, the Dischnya and the Usaanans were of the same opinion. Neither race liked water. To be more precise, neither race could swim. It was the same for the Colony.
The traveler pilots continued to overfly the planet, simultaneously transmitting the imagery and recording it. Water inundated nearly every land mass.
It wasn’t until the ships disappeared around the back side of the planet that the terrain changed.
When the final images had been sent, the pilots reversed course and made for the carrier.
“One significant land mass above water,” Homsaff commented.
“How did they know the dry land was back there?” Ufloss asked.
The question halted the thinking of the Dischnya and the Earther bridge crew. Of the planet’s two moons, the dome rested on the smaller and closer moon, which orbited the planet in synchronization with the planet’s spin. In other words, the view from the dome would never see the far side of the planet.
“They probably didn’t,” the Earther captain offered. “If the Colony hierarchy is as dominating as we suspect, why wouldn’t the transports be launched at the planet and the shuttles spilled out regardless of the terrain?”
“True,” Homsaff commented. “The planet is habitable, except poorly for the insectoids.”
“Sacrifices,” Ufloss hissed.
Simlan glanced at the Usaanan, who was swaying gently. It was an indication of the serpent’s anger.
After checking the recorded telemetry, the Earther captain said, “Six shuttles spotted. Their burn marks are clear.”