by C H Gideon
But she had to go with her gut, and her gut told her to show no mercy since that was precisely how the bug-things had behaved.
The six-limbed thing finally spasmed, but as it did so, something remarkable happened: its limbs splayed outward in a symmetrical display that was certainly unnatural given the damage it had sustained.
Xi felt a surge of hope that she had chosen the right path and quickly disarmed the grenade before tossing her knife to the ground. Now disarmed, she did her best to assume a symmetrical posture while remaining upright. Her arms at ninety-degree angles to her sides, and her feet spaced as far apart as her shoulders, she straightened her head as much as she could manage considering the continued vertigo.
The ruined creature held its own posture for a long while before its limbs fell limply to the ice, and Xi fell to her knees as mixed waves of victory and despair washed over her. She had survived the battle, but if this thing had died, then how in God’s name could she complete her mission and establish some kind of dialogue with the things?
She wanted to cry in frustration, but her brain was apparently too rattled to behave in what she thought would be its usual fashion.
Then suddenly, fifty meters from her position, the ice split apart with the sound of a glacier tearing through rock. The cracking of frozen water tearing apart continued as an undamaged version of the hunchbacked alien vehicles emerged from the ice.
She was on her knees and decided now was not the time to adjust her posture. With her heart pounding in her ears, she remained as motionless as she could manage while the vehicle’s crab-like legs brought the lumbering vehicle close to her.
When it was about twenty meters from where she knelt, the giant insect-like thing stopped. For a long moment, nothing seemed to happen. She wondered if she was about to die, on her knees and bathed in plasma fire. Hardly a pleasant end by any measure.
Then the forward-most layers of metallic, chitinous armor folded back into themselves, and a centaur-like creature identical to the one she had just fought emerged.
It approached with its arms splayed outward at near-ninety-degree angles from its body, seeming to approximate her previous posture. She responded by mirroring the pose, and the creature’s blade-shaped, crab-like legs brought it to a stop less than three meters from Xi.
Slowly, with obvious deliberation, the thing reached behind its torso section and produced a small, triangular device approximately ten centimeters long on a side. It was of decidedly non-human design, and if Xi had to guess, she would have said it was Vorr technology.
The triangular device began to glow with a faint, blue light, and a tinny voice crackled to life from within it. “You brave. We brave. Symmetry.”
She felt her heart leap into her throat as a wave of relief washed over her. She had been right! All of this was some sort of inhuman greeting ritual.
She nodded, repeating the phrase. “You brave. We brave. Symmetry.”
“No harm,” the thing’s translator box said, though it lacked inflection, so she had difficulty understanding what it meant.
She cocked her head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“No harm. We no harm you,” it clarified as it stepped closer to its fallen comrade.
She nodded unthinkingly. “Yes, tend to your wounded.”
“No harm,” it repeated as it stooped down and, using its one free four-pointed pincer, performed a strange sequence of movements that saw the fallen centaur-thing’s body burst open on the underside.
Xi watched in fascination as the living centaur-thing reached purposefully inside its dead comrade and, with evident care and tenderness, removed something that looked like a cross between a slug and a grub. It was a half-meter long and appeared incredibly delicate.
But the grub-slug thing was still moving, and Xi dimly realized it was the real creature. The centaur-like exoskeleton was some kind of removable armor!
The new insectaur’s armor opened on the underside, where it tucked its suit-less comrade before the armor folded back into itself.
“You brave,” the box reiterated, “we brave. You not food. We not food.”
“Yes.” She nodded eagerly. “You brave. We brave. You not food. We not food. We wish reciprocity…symmetry,” she clarified before gesturing to the translation device, “like you and Vorr.”
“Vorr brave. Vorr food,” the thing unexpectedly said. “Brave food not symmetrical.”
She laughed in spite of herself, concluding that this species was confused by the concept of “brave food.” The confusion was understandable since most prey animals humanity had encountered were not, in fact, “brave” by any human-recognized definition of the word.
“All brave?” the thing asked, clearly posing a question despite the translator’s emotionless delivery.
“Yes.” She nodded, placing both hands on her chest. “All Terrans are brave.” She tapped her chest. “We Terran. Not Vorr. You?”
“You Terran. Not Vorr. We Zeen,” it replied through the translator before the armored exoskeleton emitted a sound that actually sounded like a particularly lengthy enunciation of the word “Zeen.” While it spoke, the vehicle behind it withdrew back to its originating tunnel where it soon disappeared.
“You Zeen…” She nodded, wary of why its vehicle had withdrawn. “We Terran.”
“Terran hierarchical,” the Zeen said before uttering a variation on the most cliched phrase in the history of science fiction. “Take Zeen to Terran leader.”
17
Battlefield Diplomacy
The live feed from Leapfrog, assigned to the same patrol as Elvira, showed the last seconds of the fight between Xi and the alien soldier as Lee Jenkins watched with bated breath. It wasn’t until the lumbering bug vehicle emerged from the ice and came to a stop nearly on top of her position that Jenkins knew Xi had been right. Her whole theory had just been proven out, and he watched with eager anticipation as a second creature emerged from the larger bug and approached Xi.
The two seemed to converse for several minutes before Styles urgently declared, “New contacts, Colonel.”
Jenkins looked up to see Roy’s tactical viewer show dozens of fresh contacts, none of which seemed interested in hiding themselves. Groups of four to six fresh icons appeared right on top of the remaining Jemmin targets, and in a span of twenty-one seconds, all Jemmin targets were wiped off the face of Shiva’s Wrath.
And the fact that they didn’t react nearly as quickly or intelligently to the ambush as they had done prior to the Poltergeist’s destruction was not lost on either Jenkins or Styles.
“Jemmin targets neutralized, Colonel,” Styles reported ominously as the entire command center came to terms with what just happened. Over two hundred of the bug vehicles had just popped out of concealment and erased the entire Jemmin presence on Shiva’s Wrath.
Which meant that they probably could have done the same thing to the Terrans.
“Verify all Jemmin targets are down,” Jenkins ordered as the bugs returned to their icy tunnels, where they remained visible for several minutes before their thermal signatures were occluded by the ice. “And, Styles, I need you to personally take an APC out there to collect the captain and her package.”
“APC en route,” Styles acknowledged, standing from his station and making for Roy’s cabin door.
Jenkins raised the Generally on a secure line and forwarded a classified order signed by General Akinouye. “Lieutenant Winters, this is Colonel Jenkins. Hold your position and verify receipt of new orders.”
The orders were clear: Winters’ people had just observed a classified encounter and were now under explicit orders not to discuss it, or even to surrender their mechs’ data storage system contents to anyone but Colonel Jenkins.
A lengthy pause ensued while Winters presumably read the order, and eventually the young officer acknowledged, “Copy that, Colonel. Orders received and executed.”
“Good work, 7th Platoon,” Jenkins replied. “Roy out.”
“Colonel Jenkins,” greeted Captain Xi Bao after disembarking the APC. The vehicle had been dispatched to retrieve her less than two hours earlier and had just arrived back at HQ bearing its all-important guest. Driven by Chief Styles, the APC was empty of other crew, which made this meeting as secretive as it could possibly be given the circumstances. Xi looked around with concern. “Where’s General Akinouye?”
Jenkins shook his head. “This needs to remain compartmentalized for the moment. Are you all right?” he asked, gesturing to the angry, blistered burns running from beneath her rebreather’s jaw-line down her neck. The burns seemed to extend well beneath her new enviro-suit, which covered her pilot’s jumpsuit and nearly all of her body to protect it from the extreme cold.
“I’m fine, sir,” she said dismissively. “It took me a while to master the secret handshake, but I got it.” She gestured deferentially toward the APC’s interior. “This way, Colonel.”
Jenkins walked up the boarding ramp and entered the vehicle where his eyes soon fell upon a truly bizarre-looking creature.
It had four multi-jointed, blade-shaped legs situated beneath its more than meter-long body. Situated over the front legs and protruding from a half-meter tall “torso” was a pair of delicate-looking arms ending in four-clawed pincers. The thing had no discernable head, or any other recognizable organs for that matter, but Xi’s initial classification ”insectaur” did a good enough job describing its shape.
Gripped in one of those clawed “hands” was a triangular bit of metal that glowed with a soft, blue light. That light pulsed as it emitted English words. “We Zeen. You Terran leader.”
Jenkins nodded. “I am a Terran leader.”
“Clarify singular,” the Zeen said in its strange, inflectionless tone. Jenkins had heard dozens of auto-translation devices, and none of them projected the strange, hollow, seemingly emotionless tone that this one did.
He cocked his head in confusion, looking at Xi for an assist. She gestured toward the Zeen insectaur. “It’s asking why you said you are ‘a’ Terran leader, Colonel.”
He nodded, recalling her brief message that had summoned the APC. “Hierarchical structures…right. I’m the commander of the Terran ground forces deployed on this world,” he explained.
“You apex leader here?” the Zeen pressed.
“No…” Jenkins replied firmly. “But I am the highest-ranking officer you can communicate with.”
“You not apex leader. Preserve hierarchy fundamental hierarchical feature. Limit sensitive component exposure. Terran hierarchical structures symmetrical,” the Zeen intoned.
Jenkins was confused, but thankfully, Xi stepped in. “The Zeen is saying it understands the ‘apex’ leader isn’t here because of security concerns. When it says something is ‘symmetrical,’ it means that it understands and approves of its function or the logic behind it.”
Jenkins nodded, impressed by how quickly Xi had picked up the thing’s fragmented speech patterns. “Why are the Zeen here?” he asked, diving straight at the heart of the matter.
“Vorr help Zeen,” the Zeen replied. “Zeen help Vorr. Vorr brave. Vorr food. Brave food not symmetrical.”
Xi giggled, drawing an alarmed look from Jenkins before she explained her outburst. “Apparently, the Vorr don’t make much sense to the Zeen, who think they act too much like prey. But the Zeen still seem to like them well enough. That’s the fifth time it’s described the Vorr like that. I’m sorry, Colonel.” She schooled her features into something approaching a professional expression. “It just sounds funnier every time I hear it.”
“Zeen not food,” the Zeen continued. “Terran not food. Vorr help Terran. Vorr help Zeen. Zeen help Vorr. Zeen help Terran. Terran help Vorr. Terran help Zeen. Mutual help symmetrical.”
“We would like that…” Jenkins nodded warily. “But I need you to understand that this is a preliminary meeting.”
“Define ‘preliminary,’” the Zeen requested.
“We can’t complete any agreement here,” Jenkins explained. “We need to take what we learn here back to the Terran government.”
“Hierarchical structures symmetrical,” the Zeen said in what sounded like vaguely reassuring tone. “Zeen help Terran. Zeen not help Terran government. Terran government not symmetrical.”
“What do you mean?” Jenkins felt his neck-hairs rise in alarm. “Why do you say ‘Terran government not symmetrical’?”
“Terran government subordinate,” Zeen replied simply. “Vorr help Zeen. Vorr help Terran. Zeen help Terran. Vorr not help Terran government. Zeen not help Terran government. Terran government not symmetrical.”
Of all the possible ways this meeting could have gone, this was not among those which Jenkins had prepared for. “I’m not sure I understand,” he eventually said.
“Terran government subordinate,” the Zeen serenely repeated.
“Subordinate to who?” Xi demanded.
“Terran government subordinate to Sol,” replied the insect-like creature. “Sol subordinate to Jemmin. Jemmin not brave. Jemmin not food. Jemmin not symmetrical. Zeen not food. Zeen brave. Jemmin eat Zeen. Zeen not help Jemmin. Zeen not help Jemmin subordinates.”
Jenkins nodded as he sorted through what the Zeen representative had just said. “I need to confer with my subordinate.” He gestured to Xi.
“Hierarchical structures symmetrical,” it approved.
“Captain…” Jenkins gestured for her to come over for a brief conference. “What else have you learned from the Zeen?”
“One thing that came through loud and clear on the trip here is that they really don’t like the Jemmin,” she explained. “And it seems like the only reason they’re on Shiva’s Wrath is that the Vorr needed their help with something here. The Vorr asked them to meet with us and see if we could come to some kind of understanding, and it sounds like it took some convincing before the Zeen agreed. I think the main sticking point is that the Zeen insisted on meeting us on their terms rather than in some kind of formalized summit orchestrated by the Vorr,” she explained, her words quickening as she made her report. “Just like we thought, those terms include a combat ritual which the Vorr disapproved of but ultimately decided not to interfere with. The Zeen liked what they saw in how we conduct ourselves under fire, and in how we fought against the Jemmin, so they’ve decided we’re ‘not food.’ As far as I can tell, that’s as much respect and regard as we can hope to get from this species.”
“Do you know why they don’t like the Jemmin?”
She shook her head irritably. “I haven’t been able to get any further than ‘Jemmin eat Zeen’ and ‘Jemmin not brave’ on that front, Colonel. It seems like the Zeen is being more guarded on the subject of the Jemmin than on just about any other.”
He nodded contemplatively before turning back to the Zeen. “Why do you think Sol is subordinate to the Jemmin?”
“Technology symmetrical.”
Jenkins quirked an eyebrow in surprise, seeing a look of confusion on Xi’s face that matched his own. “Clarify,” he urged.
“Sol technology and Jemmin technology symmetrical,” the Zeen explained. “Symmetry indicates union. Sol unified with Jemmin. Terran technology and Sol technology asymmetrical. Asymmetry indicates disunion. Terran not unified with Sol. Terran not unified with Jemmin. Terran eat Jemmin. Zeen help Terran.”
“But you think Terran government unified with Sol?” Jenkins pressed, realizing only after he had spoken that he was aping the Zeen’s speech pattern.
“Sol and Terran government partially symmetrical,” the Zeen agreed. “Vorr and Zeen analysis symmetrical.”
“The Vorr and Zeen both think that the Terran government is secretly in league with Sol?” Xi clarified.
“Symmetrical.”
Jenkins had no idea what he could do with this information. It was possible the Zeen were overreacting to similarities between certain factions within the Terran government and humanity’s parent system of Sol.
&n
bsp; But the Vorr were the second-most powerful species in the known galaxy, and if they concurred with the Zeen appraisal of the situation, that gave him serious pause when it came to dismissing their theory.
“Zeen help Terran,” the Zeen said into the growing silence. “Terran help Zeen.”
“Yes,” Jenkins affirmed. “We would like to help each other.”
“Symmetry,” the alien made a peculiar, mirrored gesture with its arm-like appendages.
“Symmetry,” Jenkins agreed, closing the hatch and sitting down on one of the benches normally used to seat troopers in transit. “Captain?” He gestured for Xi to sit opposite him. “Let’s continue this dialogue with our new friend.”
Colonel Jenkins sat in Bahamut Zero’s conference room while General Akinouye reviewed his report on the Zeen meeting. Jenkins had excluded nothing from that report, though it had been tempting to do so with some of the more sensitive bits of information.
Fifteen minutes of total silence passed before the general finally looked up. “I don’t know how actionable any of this is, Colonel. But it seems unlikely the Vorr would bring us here to present a convoluted smokescreen.”
“I agree, General.” Jenkins nodded. “And given the complexity of establishing a dialogue with them, it seems even more unlikely that the Zeen would willingly participate in such a scheme.”
“On that note, the Zeen seem to have taken a liking to Captain Xi,” Akinouye mused.
“They have indeed, sir. They made clear toward the meeting’s end that they consider her their lone point of contact with Terran humanity,” Jenkins explained as a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “They tried telling her that she needed to pull back from active duty to protect herself and facilitate future Terran-Zeen interactions.”
Akinouye returned Jenkins’ grin. “Didn’t go over too well, did it?”
“No, sir,” Jenkins agreed with a chuckle, “but I think the way she rejected that particular overture only served to endear her to them even more. In any event, they’ve made it abundantly clear that they don’t want their meeting with us to be made public. Not yet, anyway.”