Earthers

by S. H. Jucha

  “Let’s try again,” Jess said. “Sight down the barrel with your right eye, align the barrel’s sights on the tree, and gently press the firing stud.”

  The pilot fired. When he missed, he looked forlornly at Jess.

  “You were close. Try again,” Jess lied.

  The second try was also a miss. This time, Jess was paying attention to the pilot and not the tree.

  “How does the weapon feel to you?” Jess asked.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my rifle,” the pilot replied. “It works fine.”

  “You were trembling,” Jess pointed out.

  “It’s heavy,” the pilot replied.

  Jess turned to the tech, who said, “They are heavy.”

  The Packeoes were slightly shorter than a Jatouche, and they were much slighter. Jess knew that Tacnock worked at mastering the Loopah weapon. He hadn’t thought that it might have been heavy for his friend.

  “Use your sling,” Jess said to the pilot. “You’re carrying the rifle with it hanging down. Put it over the right shoulder. Now, bring the weapon to a firing position.”

  When the Packeo was ready, Jess adjusted the sling until it pulled the stock into the shoulder. “Better?” he asked.

  “Much, Captain,” the pilot replied.

  “Sit and rest,” Jess directed. Then he worked with Gregich and the tech. When he was done, he said, “Pilot, one more time.”

  “The small tree again?” the pilot asked, and Jess nodded.

  The Packeo struggled with the concept of one eye open and one eye closed, but eventually he got it worked out. The Loopah weapon spit the dart, which hit the tree. The pilot flashed his rows of sharp teeth at Jess.

  “Again,” Jess said.

  Three out of four times, the pilot hit the tree. Then it was Gregich’s turn. He’d paid careful attention to Jess’s instructions and managed four strikes with four darts.

  The tech struggled. As a female, she was lighter than the two males, and the rifle wavered a little more. However, she did manage to hit the tree with her third shot, and Jess ended her lesson on an up note.

  Immediately, Jess edited his Packeoes’ lessons within his implant and sent them to the veterans. They were directed to spend whatever time was necessary to instill confidence in their charges with improved weapon’s practices.

  Jess and Gregich spoke privately, while the pilot and tech chatted animatedly about their newfound proficiency.

  “Simple cure for a simple problem,” Jess remarked, eyeing the two happy Packeoes. “There’s a more important issue to resolve.”

  “Maybe accurate shooting will give them the confidence they need,” Gregich said hopefully.

  That afternoon most Sylian teams never resumed the hunt. The few who did, started late in the afternoon. The time was spent on perfecting techniques that brought the weapon to bear, sighting down the barrel, and touching off the firing stud.

  Jess returned his team to the urban center well before the others arrived. He watched for something, and he saw it. As opposed to the silent, grim faces the Packeoes wore in the morning, they appeared more relaxed and voluble.

  When Menous and Homsaff returned, they immediately noted the difference in the Packeoes.

  “What has happened to the federacy crews?” Menous asked Salsinona.

  “The morning’s hunt was tragic. The Packeoes lost thirty-eight members,” Salsinona explained. “Then Jess discovered the crews never had weapons training.”

  “How can that be?” Homsaff asked incredulously.

  “According to Gregich, only the security forces were trained with the energy weapons, and most of them were killed before they landed on Quall,” Salsinona replied. Her white-furred hands were held out in disbelief, and she was shaking her head.

  “How did we miss this?” Menous asked Homsaff. He wore a guilty expression.

  “Remember, we hunted in the company of many of them, at one time,” Homsaff replied. “They were told to observe and learn, and we protected them. The arrival of additional resources and the new team arrangement have exposed their weak training.”

  “And we simply accepted that they were poor shots,” Menous added. “Perhaps we valued them too little.”

  Neither Homsaff nor Salsinona replied to Menous’s last remark. They were occupied in searching their consciences to see if that was true.

  The following morning, the Packeoes exhibited their new attitudes. While some eagerly joined their Sylian trooper, the others, at least, appeared determined.

  During the first half of the day, Jess was pleased to see that his Packeoes hit the reds and the grays downed by the shadows and him.

  Yes, the insectoids were static targets by then, but yesterday, they hadn’t hit the carcasses once. Many times, they’d come close, but a near miss of an attacking insectoid didn’t do anybody any good.

  By midday meal, the count of lost Packeoes was at twelve.

  Jess lamented the additional deaths, but it was a marked improvement over the same period as the previous day. More important, none of the deaths occurred because a Packeo panicked then ran.

  Late in the day, Gregich scored his first kill.

  As the Packeoes’ confidence grew, Jess had spread the shadows wider. They’d come to a long deep trench cut by water runoff during the rainy season. The three-meter-wide cut in the surface was choked with rushes taller than Jess.

  Jess stopped at the trench’s edge and peered into the thick vegetation. The shadows lined along the trench, and their sensory heads were directed into the reeds. Jess considered the trench a perfect hiding place for the insectoids.

  Suddenly, two grays shot up the embankment to rear in front of Jess. Reflexively, he shot the nearest gray, but his next dart missed the second gray. The insectoid had been cut down by Gregich.

  “Well done,” Jess commented. Then he noted that Gregich’s weapon had been fired from a waist-high position. There hadn’t been time for him to aim. “Actually, excellent,” he added, clasping the Packeo on the shoulder.

  The pilot and the tech hurried to Gregich and added their congratulations.

  “Focus,” Jess warned.

  Immediately, the Packeoes spread out and walked along the deep trench.

  Six more adult insectoids attacked Jess’s team, and each was eliminated. The Packeoes got one each, and Jess shot the other three.

  Jess sent the shadows into the trench, and they quickly disappeared in the thick rushes and reeds.

  The teams watched the tall stems sway and jerk. Insectoids reared above the reeds only to be cut down by the shadows.

  When the Colony members realized the invincibility of their opponents, they vacated the trench in a hurry.

  Jess and the Packeoes eliminated the reds and the grays who broke from cover on their side of the trench. The adults who made the other side managed to escape.

  When Quall’s star neared the horizon, and the shadows grew long, Jess called a halt to the hunt.

  The afternoon’s summary was one Sylian and two Packeoes lost. But it was the enemy who suffered. The teams had accrued over six thousand kills, and those were just the adults. The shadows had eliminated triple that number of juveniles.

  There was a celebratory attitude, as the teams exited their travelers and walked to the urban center. While the Packeoes had lost fifty-two of their fellow crew members, they’d gained something precious — confidence, which gave them hope.

  The third and fourth days saw the numbers climb of Colony members vanquished, and the defenders’ losses fell to zero.

  18: Fifth Lost Dome

  On the fifth day, Jess disbanded his hunt team. His Packeoes, who’d become capable hunters, were transferred to other teams who had lost members.

  Jess made sure that the Sylian who received Gregich was a commander with a good record. Then he watched Gregich wave goodbye, as the Packeo climbed aboard a traveler with his new team. Jess felt a twinge of remorse, as if he’d abandoned his Packeoes.

  In th
e back of Jess’s mind were Alex’s words. The Omnian leader had asked him about his future goals. He thought it was time to resolve one more issue on Quall, if he could. Then the fifth lost dome waited for him.

  Jess boarded Lane’s traveler. It was odd being the single passenger. He chose to sit in the copilot’s seat. Donning the helmet, he linked to the controller and followed the surface terrain as the ship flew low over the planet.

  Lane overflew the western bridge and set the traveler on the thoroughfare just short of the river urban center. Jess jumped off the ramp. Lane had left it in the customary position, which allowed Jess to sit on the end and enjoy the star’s rays and the fresh air.

  As Jess approached the center’s entrance, he was puzzled by the myriad items blocking the opening — furniture, cabinets, palettes, and equipment. The Packeoes, led by Stasnich, had walled themselves in by building a two-meter-high barrier.

  The idea that the wall would keep the Packeoes safe from the insectoids made Jess shake his head in resignation. Rather than climb the barrier and prove its ineffectiveness, Jess called to Stasnich until his throat got dry and he started coughing.

  Finally, a captain announced himself from the other side of the makeshift obstruction.

  “Leader Stasnich doesn’t want to speak with you. Go away,” the captain said.

  “What are your intentions?” Jess asked.

  “We’ll stay here. You were told that,” the captain retorted.

  “You’ll need services if you remain here,” Jess argued.

  “We need nothing from the Omnians or the alliance,” the captain said stubbornly. “You’ve been told to leave. I’ve a weapon. Don’t make me use it.”

  Jess eased behind a heavy metal cabinet. He doubted the captain would fire at him, but he chose not to take the chance.

  “You can’t cut yourselves off from the other Packeoes. It isn’t right,” Jess pleaded.

  “It’s better to live our lives here than die in the field in the grip of monsters,” the captain said.

  “Things have changed for your crew members,” Jess explained. “They’ve been in the field for four days, and there have been no losses for the past two days. They’re effective team members, and with their help, tens of thousands of insectoids have been removed from the planet. You could share in that success.”

  Jess heard a second voice. It was faint, like someone was stridently whispering to the captain.

  “I’m asking you to reconsider your choice,” Jess pleaded. He waited for a response. When none came, he returned to the traveler and hopped on the ramp beside Lane. Then he stared at the barricade.

  “They’re not budging?” Lane asked.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” Jess replied.

  “Sad,” Lane murmured.

  The two sat in silence on the ramp, their feet dangling over the edge. They were alone with their thoughts.

  Cordelia sent.

  Lane replied.

  There came a point when Jess figured that Stasnich and his followers weren’t his problem. It would have to be solved by the Packeoes. He shook his head, stood, tapped Lane on the shoulder, and said, “Let’s go.”

  “Message from Cordelia, Captain. Alex requests a meeting,” Lane said. “Is it time to move on?”

  “Yes,” Jess replied.

  Two hours later, Jess strode the wide corridors of the Freedom. He’d spent the flight time in conversation with Lucia. Both of them knew what was coming.

  In the owner’s suite, Jess joined the expected three plus Tatia. Renée served him thé, and he sat on the couch beside Tatia.

  “You said, Captain, that the fifth lost dome is next,” Alex said. “What do you need?”

  “That depends on whether our trip’s purpose is to investigate or to fight,” Jess replied.

  “What do you want it to be?” Tatia asked.

  “A fight,” Jess replied. “I’m tired of surveying.”

  “Good answer,” Tatia said, displaying her patented fierce grin.

  “Who and what needs to be transported?” Renée asked.

  “With Tacnock and Aputi, I’d take the Dischnya and the Norsitchians,” Jess replied. “The Dischnya are hunting with over two hundred shadows. We’ll transport that number and another fifty as backup, unless ...”

  “Unless what?” Alex asked.

  Jess cleared his throat and sipped the thé, as if his mouth was dry.

  Julien sent privately.

  “Unless the Norsitchians prefer to hunt with the shadows instead of remaining in brassard formation,” Jess temporized.

  Julien sent.

  Jess received a vid from Julien. He was seen hotfooting it across a bed of glowing coals earnestly trying to reach the other side.

  “We have the shadows to spare if the Norsitchians want to use them,” Alex said. He was sure that wasn’t what Jess wanted to say, but someone had intercepted him. His credits were on Renée or Julien. It didn’t really matter. It did tell him the captain was being adopted by his close associates, and he approved of that.

  “Travel accommodations?” Tatia asked.

  “The Freedom remains here,” Alex replied. “Francis can sail the Rêveur to the fifth lost dome. Home world of the —”

  “Dontots,” Julien supplied.

  “What do you know of them, Captain?” Renée inquired.

  “The name is all,” Jess replied. “They’re a new race to the alliance, and they’re the start of a dome string.”

  “That’s a line of Messinants domes that have only two gates, and the string leads to a dead end, right?” Tatia queried.

  “Correct, Admiral,” Jess replied. “Pyre has a single gate, making it the end of a short line. It’s considered an adjunct of the Jatouche dome.”

  “The Dontots are the first of four domes,” Julien said, having accessed the alliance star map.

  “If the Colony has flooded the Dontot home world, then the insectoids probably examined the opportunity to infest the other three worlds along the string,” Tatia surmised.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Jess replied. “I still can’t figure out if the Colony members are in a race to conquer as many worlds as possible before they meet substantial resistance or if their expansion is more a matter of necessity.”

  “Explain the latter idea, Captain,” Julien requested.

  “The Colony multiplies at an enormous rate,” Jess replied. “There’s no evidence that the insectoids make any attempt to control their population. I’m favoring the idea that the Colony is forced to spread its numbers to relieve social pressures ... to prevent descending into chaos.”

  “That fits with the SADEs’ primary conjecture,” Julien said.

  “Julien, what are the survey designations on the three stars that form the line?” Alex inquired.

  “The stars following the Dontot dome are yellow, yellow, and red,” Julien replied.

  “So, the Colony was seen moving along the line of domes to the end, where the insectoids decided to descend on the planet,” Renée surmised. “Why not build a ring above each dome? Certainly, the insectoids aren’t picky about who they oust from a home world.”

  “Good question,” Jess admitted. “Unfortunately, we don’t know enough about why the Colony selects certain home worlds over others.”

  “The final three domes in the string don’t belong to alliance races,” Julien replied. “When the surveyors designated a dome as yellow, the planet wasn’t investigated. When the dome was tagged as red, the operational guidelines required the command to remove the ring, a shuttle, and the transports, if possible. Nothing more.”

  “You have telemetry scans,” Jess offered.

  “We do,” Tatia said, “but they won’t provide us with the data to reach the conclusions we seek.”


  “In the end, we don’t know if there’s a sentient race on the red-designated world, do we?” Renée asked.

  “No, we don’t,” Julien replied.

  “Then that should be a priority,” Renée insisted.

  “I’ll make it the next planet we investigate after setting up operations on the alliance world, Ser,” Jess said. It was the first time he’d used the Méridien honorific, and it sounded strange to his ears. However, the smile that it earned him from Renée was worth the effort.

  “You’ll need Trident support, Captain. Any preferences?” Tatia asked slyly.

  “I was hoping you’d accompany me, Admiral. It’ll give you an opportunity to have an up-close encounter with a red,” Jess replied smoothly.

  The speechless expression on Tatia’s face had everyone laughing.

  “Good one, Captain,” Tatia admitted, “I saw what nearly happened to Renée. I’ll leave the hunting to you and the veterans. Admiral Bellardo will have two squadrons for support. Her other squadrons will be seconded to Reiko’s command until she returns.”

  Jess nodded his understanding.

  Then Tatia added, “Do me a favor, Captain. Keep my admiral out of the hunt.”

  “She does outrank me,” Jess pointed out.

  “In this situation, I’m sure you have some influence,” Tatia retorted.

  “I’ll do my best, Admiral,” Jess replied and excused himself.

  As the salon door slid closed, Alex regarded his companions and said, “What do you think?”

  “I can say highly competent, a good leader, and qualities like that,” Tatia said, “but that’s not the first thought that comes to mind. It’s the balance of logic and emotions that I find reliable. If he wasn’t such a great ground commander, I’d be sizing him up for an admiral’s position.”

  “Cordelia said she located the captain at the original Packeo site. He’d found that Stasnich and his followers had walled up the entrance, possibly as protection from the insectoids,” Julien said. “The captain failed to get the attention of Stasnich after more than a quarter hour. Only a captain deigned speak with him. Jess was told to go away several times before the captain threatened to shoot him.”