by S. H. Jucha
Then Alex added, “I was thinking that you never know who will make a great ambassador until you put members of two different races together. Then it becomes quickly apparent.”
Up above, Lydia’s traveler, which had exited the Our People, halted outside the Arcus. Vyztram had yet to regain access to the Arcus globes, but the SADEs had prepared a comm unit for the Elvian engineers to attach to the globe network.
Hector used the city-ship’s comm resources to link to the Arcus, locate Dafine, and send a request for a landing bay.
Dafine was exiting facilities after midday meal, when his slate buzzed, and he checked the message. He’d been nervous about the Arcus accelerating rapidly and sailing inward without Vyztram aboard. Then, as the ship neared the Ollassa home world, he became seriously anxious, as the planet filled his office’s monitor. Relief came when the ship decelerated.
Hurrying to the control center, Dafine used a slate to connect to Yemerth, who was on duty. “Yemerth, we need a bay for a traveler landing,” he said. “Prepare the bay, open the doors, and allow the bay lights to direct the traveler to the location.”
A few minutes later, Yemerth replied, “The bay is ready, Dafine. I located one as close to the incoming traveler as possible.”
The traveler pilot saw the doors open not ten kilometers away. She waited to ensure there were no ships exiting the bay or headed inward. Then she swiftly landed the traveler aboard the Arcus. She closed her pilot’s cabin, and Vyztram, Famgore, and the SADEs exited. Then she closed the ramp, leaned back in her seat, and resumed the vid she’d been enjoying.
Dafine and Yemerth hurried along numerous decks and rode various lifts to reach the traveler.
Yemerth had sent Elvian engineers and techs to the bay. Those individuals pressurized the bay for the traveler’s passengers.
When the pair of core’s reps arrived, the traveler’s passengers were waiting in the corridor.
To Dafine’s and Yemerth’s surprise, Famgore briefly gripped their shoulders, as he greeted them, interrupting their courtesies.
The SADEs shared their amusement about the expressions of Dafine and Yemerth.
“What’s first?” Dafine asked. He looked from Vyztram to Othello and Lydia, unsure of who led.
Vyztram replied, “I must be connected to the globe network to accommodate the Omnian request for a cradle.”
Famgore indicated a device, which a SADE held.
“Famgore, you seem to be aware of the challenge and the device. Take some techs with you and make the connection,” Dafine directed. Glancing toward the SADEs, he asked, “Can we do anything while we wait?”
“Take us to a cradle,” Lydia replied.
“This way,” Yemerth said, directing the SADEs down the corridor in the opposite direction from which Dafine and she had arrived.
Initially, Famgore found it odd that the techs were walking so slowly. That was until he felt lightheaded. Then he relaxed and moderated his breathing, adopting the old habits.
“Are you all right?” a tech asked.
“I can’t tell you how wonderful it was to experience the Ollassa world,” Famgore said. “Frightening and exciting at the same time. Breathing oxygen-rich air made me feel alive, and this was through a filter that the Omnians constructed for us.”
“Why a filter?” a tech asked. “Is the air dangerous?”
“To us, it is,” Famgore replied. To the shocked faces, he added, “Too much oxygen would overpower us.”
“Tell us more,” another tech eagerly requested.
“We must walk at a more leisurely pace if you want me to talk at the same time,” Famgore replied. “There’s much to share, and all of it is good.”
Famgore entertained the techs with stories about the Ollassa home world until they reached the memory space. He had the SADEs’ instructions. The connections to the network were simple. He executed them and then activated the device.
“That’s it?” a tech asked dubiously. “Why did we come if it was that easy to install?”
“Dafine requested you accompany me,” Famgore replied. “I would have done him a disservice to contradict him in front of the Omnians. I’ve learned much from these strangers. I find that the courtesies we offer one another are hollow, if that’s all we exchange. We must follow them with purpose, with action. Then the courtesies have meaning. Besides, didn’t you enjoy the stories?”
The techs nodded and offered small gestures of appreciation.
“Now what?” a tech asked.
“We wait,” Famgore replied. “This device is what the Omnians call a controller. Think of a powerful and near-sentient slate.”
“What’s it doing?” another tech inquired.
“This device is investigating our network and making connections to the Arcus internal comm network and our comm antennas,” Famgore explained. “Vyztram will test it by linking to the controller aboard the Omnian ship. That controller will connect to this one via our antenna. Then Vyztram will be able to access the entire globe network.”
Minutes later, Famgore and the techs received a message on their slates. It read, “Success. Vyztram.”
Famgore smiled, turned, and worked his way out of the narrow memory space.
“Where are you going?” a tech asked.
“I’m not missing out on anything the Omnians are doing,” Famgore replied. “I’m headed to the bay where the Omnians are examining a cradle.”
The techs shared glances among one another. Then as one, they hurried to follow Famgore as fast as the oxygen allowed.
34: Sentient Females
If Trobath had heard Famgore’s descriptions of his reactions to the World of Light, she would have heartily agreed. That was before she traveled with Scarlet Mandator and Killian via the tram.
Observing the mandator in a somnolent state, while the entity stood in a mineral bath with paired fronds closed and bloom drooping, brought an entirely new awareness of the alien world that she visited. Her one comfort ... her one hold on reality ... was Killian.
Strange, Trobath thought, I take solace from an alien, who isn’t even biological.
Yet, by the time the tram came to a halt beneath Mesa Control, Trobath felt much more relaxed in Scarlet Mandator’s company. She had thought of Elvians as gentle, but the mandator exemplified an approach to life that made her race seem aggressive.
However, Trobath’s introduction to the other mandators shifted her view, once again. With Killian’s patient instruction, she’d learned to distinguish many of the emotional reactions of an Ollassa. There was no mistaking the mandators’ reactions when they met. Their petals recoiled tightly behind their blooms. Their fronds closed, and their stalks trembled.
There was an initial period during which Killian didn’t provide translations from the mandators for Trobath, but she could guess the nature of the discussions.
At one point, Scarlet Mandator’s stalks elevated the body, and Trobath edged nearer Killian.
“Tell me,” Trobath whispered to Killian.
“The mandators are discussing your animalistic nature,” Killian replied.
Trobath titled her head upward to gaze at Killian’s face, and she smiled. “Discussing?” she queried.
“It seemed the politer term,” Killian replied, returning the Elvian’s smile. “Scarlet Mandator is pointing out that Elvians grow their food base just as Omnians do. The mandator argues that the World of Light’s animals are not like sentient fauna, who attempt to live without harming others until they’re endangered.”
“What of our destruction of Ollassa ships and crews?” Trobath asked.
“That point hasn’t arisen,” Killian replied, “but it might.”
The discussions were ongoing. Petals, fronds, and stalks were flexing. Suddenly, the conference room door opened, and another Ollassa entered.
Trobath noticed that most mandators weren’t pleased by the interruption. But she recognized that two things
were out of sync with those responses. One, Scarlet Mandator’s stalks relaxed, and two, the bloom of the intruder didn’t sway from its focus on her.
Slowly, the intruder crossed the room to stare at Trobath. Stalks were lowered until the bloom was nearly level with Trobath’s face.
“Trobath, may I present Mist Monitor?” Killian said. “The monitor is a favorite of Renée’s.”
The mention of Renée galvanized Trobath. She tilted her head and performed a generous courtesy.
“What did I witness?” Mist Monitor beamed to Killian.
“This is Trobath, an Elvian,” Killian explained. “She learned of your association with Renée de Guirnon, and she has honored you with an Elvian gesture of courtesy.”
“How do I respond?” the monitor asked.
“Extend a control stalk toward Trobath,” Scarlet Mandator instructed, which shocked the other mandators. Touching an animal was considered the height of lunacy.
But Scarlet Mandator wasn’t speaking to the other mandators, and Mist Monitor excitedly extended a stalk as instructed.
Trobath recognized the same gesture that she’d initiated with the mandator. She held out her hand, palm up, and the tip of the monitor’s stalk settled on her hand. Then she lightly closed her fingertips. She smiled shyly at the Ollassa, who retracted the stalk and turned the bloom toward Killian.
“Mist Monitor expresses pleasure at meeting you and offers the thought that the two of you might be associates,” Killian translated.
“That would be my pleasure,” Trobath replied, and she offered a light graceful gesture.
To the mandators’ irritation, Mist Monitor stayed rather than left. Worse, the monitor stood beside Trobath on the opposite side of the Elvian from Killian.
Mist Monitor’s actions pleased Scarlet Mandator. The monitor was teaching the mandators that the future could be different from what they imagined.
* * * * *
When Vyztram connected to the memory banks, the AI reviewed the ship’s status. There was nothing critical, and the news was shared with relieved core’s reps.
The SADEs spent some time examining the cradle that Dafine offered the Omnians. He’d assured the SADEs that there was no difference in construction between one cradle and another.
“They were installed at the same time, and according to our records, a cradle has never failed, not even temporarily,” Yemerth added.
“It would be advantageous to see a drone nesting here,” Othello said.
“Vyztram, what vids exist that would allow us to see details of a drone nesting on a cradle?” Lydia asked. She’d scanned for vid signals within the bay and found none.
“The bots record maintenance tasks,” Vyztram replied, “but their imagery is restricted to the adjustments. When the specifications are met, the vids are deleted.”
The SADEs examined the cradle’s cabling.
Othello requested the specifications of power and signal transfer from Vyztram, which the AI supplied.
“We can achieve nothing more from observations and specifications,” Lydia pronounced. “Vyztram, interrupt the cradle’s power.”
Within the drone control module, the AI located the cradle that the SADEs had inspected. When the request was made to cut the power to the cradle, the module returned a question. It read, “Is the corresponding drone inactive?”
“Uh-oh,” Vyztram said, imitating something overheard from an Omnian human. “The cradles and drones aren’t interchangeable.”
“Vyztram, are you able to identify which drones on the asteroid are associated with which cradles?” Othello asked.
“With regret, I can’t,” Vyztram replied. “This is part of the creators’ design to keep me separated from this ship’s defensive weapons.”
“Then we’re left with only one option,” Lydia summarized. “A drone must be recalled from the asteroid to the Arcus. When it lands, we’ll have our mated pair of drone and cradle.”
Lydia made a brief connection to Julien, Z, and Miranda to share the news.
* * * * *
Renée turned in her sleep. The last few nights of rest had been disturbed. She’d reviewed her implant’s recording of the period. Several times on previous nights, she’d received imagery. At least, that was the implant’s indication. Unfortunately, the images weren’t clear. They weren’t even fuzzy. This time it was different.
To Renée, the answer was obvious. Alex had been dreaming, or more correctly, he’d been receiving. In some unknown fashion, the stars communicated with Alex. Sometimes, the images were warnings. Sometimes, they were directions. The difficulty was in interpreting the simple images and discerning their nature.
Renée had learned that she could assist Alex. His early image receptions were while he slept, but he didn’t recall them when he woke. At the time, all that Alex knew was that he had restless nights. It wasn’t until the images became more pronounced, more insistent, that Alex saw them when he was awake. By that time, his sleep had been ruined for weeks or even months, and he was an irritable New Terran.
Tonight, Alex had tossed and turned, and the images that he transferred to Renée in her sleep were sharp. She woke and found her partner staring at the overhead.
“If we were at your parents’ house on New Terra, it would still be dark out,” Renée said.
Alex chuckled. “Wherever we sail, it’s always dark outside until we make planetfall,” he replied.
“Would you like to know what you’re dreaming?” Renée asked innocently.
Alex turned on his side to stare into his partner’s eyes. “Are the images clear?” he asked.
“They’re clear; their meaning isn’t,” Renée replied. Then she sent Alex what her implant had recorded.
Alex turned onto his back to examine the short vid.
“You forgot to send the manual,” Alex grumped, as he examined the images.
“Odd,” Renée remarked casually. “I didn’t receive one. Of course, that’s just like last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.”
Alex would have reached out to Renée in response to her tease, but his attention was on the vid.
When Alex uttered a deep sigh, Renée rolled onto his chest, throwing a leg across his. She knew that, while the vid didn’t provide an answer, it did give Alex relief from nights of disturbed sleep. Happy that she could help, she planted a kiss on his cheek.
“The face is clearly that of our lauded senior engineer, Mickey Brandon,” Alex said, replaying the vid again and again.
“That’s the easy part,” Renée commented, tapping a couple of fingers on Alex’s chest. “What are the lines, and why do they separate his face?”
Alex played the vid in slow motion. Mickey was smiling. Then vertical lines formed on his face. Finally, the sections of his face slid apart at the lines. Then the vid ended.
After Alex realized that inspiration wasn’t forthcoming, he linked with Renée, Julien, Cordelia, Z, and Miranda.
Alex didn’t bother to respond, and Miranda didn’t expect one. He was unnerved by the process, and she wanted to make light of it in an attempt to relieve some of the stress.
The SADEs received the vid, and, in a tick of time, Z responded with,
Julien pulled an image of a drone, manipulated its size and position to match Mi
ckey’s face, and then overlaid the two images.
As silence reigned, Miranda chuckled, and she sent,
Alex sent.
“Black space,” Alex muttered, which transmitted to his audience. Then he sent,