BairnGefa- The Akashic Expedition

by Ruairí Cinéad Ducantlin

  “Under the command of Colonel Davinder Khatter of the TCCC, the Ajawlil are directed to patrol the Sol system and, when appropriate, engage rogue elements who desire to harm Earth.

  “Of course, that implies a threat to Earth. We have no intelligence or information of an imminent threat to Earth. Let me repeat that message. The agreement we reached with the Ajawlil is precautionary. We are unaware of any imminent threat to Earth.

  “Another inaccurate news report is the topic of superiority in intelligence and technology. The supposition some news organizations are presenting is factually inaccurate and deliberately designed to create uneasiness and apprehension.

  “First, do not conflate intelligence with knowledge. In the half-decade since Earth became interstellar-capable, we have learned a significant amount regarding the other sentients in our galaxy. Our scientists and researchers have reached two important conclusions.

  “Humans possess an intellectual capacity that is equal, and in some cases superior, to the sentient races we have encountered. They are not smarter than us. They are, however, more knowledgeable. Their cultures are older and more advanced technologically. More advanced technology is why Earth requires defensive assistance. In terms of interstellar capabilities, humans are barely toddlers. We are fumbling around but we are learning fast and growing rapidly. Therefore, the TCCC welcomes the defensive assistance provided by the Ajawlil.

  “The second conclusion our scientists and researchers have reached is something the TCCC will leave to the theologians. It is the definition of hypocrisy to assume humans are the only sentients in God’s grand design. Therefore, the summary is simple.

  “The Ajawlil are here at the request of the TCCC to aid in the defense of Earth. The Ajawlil are honor-bound to Earth’s defense. Humans are intellectually capable and not at a deficit on the galactic stage. Human knowledge is behind the curve galactically, but we are gaining ground rapidly. The TCCC assumes no position regarding the religious implications of the information regarding other races and advanced technology. I will take your questions now.”

  Janice Patterson, chairperson of the TCCC, stood at the podium and took questions for more than forty minutes, ranging from How many Ajawlil to What about the nukes? She successfully deflected most of the inane questions, questions designed to create a sound bite for some news organization to splash Breaking News across their delivery platforms.

  “Janice did a good job. Davinder, everyone knows your name now. How does it feel to be famous?”

  Monday afternoon, after the Sunday sermons, Michelle, Davinder, Himari, Jan, Corb, Lucinda, Misses McKenzie, and Reverends Bookings and Jacobson were in the ministry’s conference room. Davinder ignored Lucinda’s question. Their jovial discussion was interrupted by Reverend Bookings’s daughter, the receptionist, stepping into the conference room and reluctantly waiting to speak. Michelle eased the timid receptionist’s fear.

  “Miss Bookings, what is your given name?”

  “Mable, Miss Wilbon. People call me Mabs.”

  “Mabs, you are part of this team. Please, you are free to speak when you have something to contribute. What is it?”

  “There are news reporters in the lobby.”

  “Thank you. Please tell them to step outside and we will address them shortly.”

  Mabs made sure the door was closed behind her. Davinder took command of the situation.

  “Jan, Himari, the reporters are to wait outside, on the sidewalk. They are not permitted to block traffic, pedestrian or otherwise. Let them know Miss Wilbon will make a statement shortly.”

  Jan and Himari did not respond verbally. They stood, bumped fists, and stormed through the double doors. Before the doors closed, Jan could be heard yelling.

  “You were told to wait outside. Let’s go …”

  The group redirected their attention to Michelle, whose Cheshire Cat grin made everyone smile.

  “Reverend, what do you think of the two of you giving a joint press briefing?”

  Before they could respond, Misses McKenzie squeaked, “Brilliant!”

  “How so, Misses McKenzie?” asked Reverend Jacobson.

  Reverend Bookings responded. “Diversity, Matt. A fat black guy and a tall, blonde, WASPy-looking dude delivering the same message is a powerful image.”

  Everyone smiled while Matthew Jacobson’s face morphed with comprehension.

  “Marcus, that went well.”

  “Yes, Matt, that went well. Did you notice the two reporters, one on the extreme left and one on the extreme right, asking questions about Michelle?”

  Reverends Bookings and Jacobson were walking back to the conference room after thirty-five minutes answering reporters’ questions.

  “Yeah, that was odd. Their questions were a mask. They asked about the ministry but wanted to know more about Michelle. Also, there was the question about Corb. Good deflection, by the way. What do you suppose that was all about?”

  “Matt, those two know Michelle and Corb, and the rest of Corb’s crew, know more than they are telling us.”

  “You determined they are withholding information?”

  “Matt, I know they are withholding information. It is what leaders and politicians do. It is not universally bad to withhold information.”

  “Thank you, Miss Wilbon, that was delicious. Now I know where Michelle learned to cook.”

  Michelle, Davinder, Himari, Jan, Corb, Lucinda, Nona, and Michelle’s mother were crammed into the salon after the best evening meal the Coterie had eaten in months. Nona had something to say to Davinder’s compliment.

  “Pfft.”

  “Grandma!”

  “Honey, you know I am the cook around here.”

  Giggling at the feisty matriarch, everyone waited to speak and watched Corb and Michelle. They had gotten up and walked through the kitchen, through the screened back porch, and across the yard to the couple’s swing under the petite pergola.

  Lucinda pulled everyone’s focus from the couple.

  “Nona, tell me about the Sight.”

  “Thank you for helping me.”

  “I did not do much, Michelle. You need to thank Janice and Davinder.”

  “I will. I see you are doing well?”

  “You observe or you See?”

  Michelle gently punched Corb in the shoulder, remembering why she loved him so deeply. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I am okay. The crew won’t bring you up around me unless I start the conversation. They know something is up and now they know about the baby. That’ll be fun back on the Jaguar. I can hear Nick now …”

  Michelle snickered and held Corb’s hand. “Yeah, not so much. Better you than me … you know this is for the best. Right?”

  “I know you consider it to be for the best, so that is enough for me.”

  “Corb, I can’t go to space and you can’t stay here. It is as simple as that. Here, I have Mom and Nona to help me. I have the ministry to run, which will keep me busy.

  “You have to find Jymind and stop him. You need to uncover the history of the Overlords. Watch out for the Plentari. Oh, and the Kripkeni, watch out for them. There is also the meaning of the Triad. You know that is the key, the Triad, right?”

  After years together, Michelle continued to ask Corb leading questions. Originally designed to help the neophyte cowboy intellectually, Corb let Michelle continue the ruse because it reminded him of their early times together.

  “Yes, I know. Jymind, Overlords, Triad. Watch out for everyone. But what about us?”

  “What about us? Yours will always be the brightest connection I see. Always.”

  They sat in silence for a long while, listening to cicadas and watching the hummingbirds.

  “Will you tell her about me?”

  “Will I tell our daughter about her magnificent father? The redeemer of worlds? Hell no!”

  Corb’s head snapped around to see Michelle’s massive grin.

  “Are you kidding? Bozo. She is going to hear about yo
u every day. I expect you to come back more than every couple of years. Unlike Nona and my grandfather or my father and mother, this will be different. It will be hard, but you will be part of her life.”

  Corb squeezed Michelle’s hand a little tighter.

  “Nona says she can sense our daughter already. If she can sense our daughter, I suspect it is the nanobots.”

  Michelle quickly grabbed Corb’s free hand, placing it on her belly. They both felt the baby kicking.

  Looking at each other, Corb whispered, “She knows?”

  “Yes, I assume she is aware on some level.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow. So, what about it, cowboy? You good?”

  “No, Michelle, I am not good. You are going to find a man here on Earth and I will be an occasional weekend dad.”

  “Yeah, you are probably right. Lots of boys in Texas want a single, biracial mom who runs a ministry and can tell them things before they happen. What about you? There are lots of Ch’en, Plentari, and Kripkeni who want to be with the redeemer.”

  Michelle couldn’t help it, she cracked herself up. Corb sat in silence until she stopped laughing.

  “Michelle, you made me what I am. How do I move past us?”

  “You do not move past. You keep us, but you move on. Remember to come home and see your daughter.”

  “One more question. Have you talked to Nona about all this? Talked to your mother?”

  “Yes, we have talked for hours. We looked for a way to keep me and you together. It was Nona who had the Sight …”

  Collecting herself, fighting the tears, Michelle continued.

  “Corb, Nona’s Sight, it was powerful. You have to go. There is something you must learn. Keeping you here will stall humanity. That is how we interpret one part of the Sight. But who knows? It can be confusing.”

  “What about the other part?”

  “Corb, our daughter has a significant and influential destiny before her. Nona refused to tell us what. Not exactly. She insists our daughter will become an enormously important person. Which is why I have to stay here, to protect her. Her destiny is also why you have to go and discover humanity’s purpose.”

  Sitting quietly, thoughtful, Corb eventually conceded. “I will do what you ask. I trust the Coterie to do the right thing. Michelle, I trust you with my life. Only you. No one else. If this is what you want, it is what I will do. Without you …”

  Michelle tenderly wiped the tears from Corb’s face.

  “You trust Lucinda, Nick, NT, Jan, Davinder. Don’t be so dramatic. I will stay here and protect Earth. You will go out there and protect Earth. Together, we will see what our daughter will become.”

  They sat silently, in the warmth of their love, until the tears dried. Michelle pulled her hand from Corb’s, patted him on the knee, and stood. She pulled him to his feet. Before turning for the back porch and the waiting group, looking up to the tall cowboy, she gave him the only message that mattered to them. Corb was beaming with pride and love.

  “Hell, why not, you can’t dance, I might never be a singer, and it’s too wet to plow.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ᚳᚻᚪᛈᛏᛖᚱ ᛏᚹᛖᚾᛏᚣ-ᛏᚹᚩ

  “A faithful friend is a strong defense,

  and he that hath found him hath found a treasure.”

  Louisa May Alcott

  “Four fighters in the flight will deploy using a diamond formation, forty light-minutes from Earth, using a spherical patrol path. The fifth fighter is a rover on a random patrol of the Oort Cloud.”

  While the squad leaders, Jan, Himari, and several others listened to the briefing, Davinder confirmed with Colonel Jyrode the patrol sequence and positioning of the Ajawlil patrols in the Sol system.

  “Five fighters on a twelve-hour rotation. Four flights, three rotations. The fifth flight rotates into the sequence, displacing the first flight after three rotations, giving each flight an extended break every fourth rotation. Each flight, after the long break, will perform a perimeter patrol outside Saturn.

  “The B-Dock on the orbital docking platform is large enough to house the Ajawlil support vessels, the fighters, and crew quarters. It’ll be tight but manageable. Captain Turner, anything to add?”

  “No, Colonel Khatter, you have covered it well.”

  “Captain Raitt, anything to add?”

  “Yes. Colonel Tanaka, Lieutenant Colonel Kruger, the docking platform’s gravity is seventy-four percent of Earth’s. What is your plan for duration management?”

  “Lucinda, we will follow the current policy for humans on the docking platform using the fourteen-days-on, fourteen-days-off cycling time. Jan and I will stagger our time aboard the platform to overlap by four days. Colonel Khatter will also rotate in when needed.”

  The meeting disbanded with Davinder’s summary. “Colonel Jyrode, we look forward to working with your team and to our long friendship. First patrol in two hours, let’s get to it, people.”

  “Ajawlil fighters are only good for one or two long, round-trip interstellar jumps without replenishing their antimatter pile. Jymind’s cruiser was banged up but still jump-capable after the battle. The questions are simple. Where did he go, and what is his next step?”

  The crews of the Jaguar and the Marissa and the Q’eqchi leadership were aboard the Marissa, discussing next steps and planning the next missions. The Earth shuttle and the Jaguar were in the Marissa’s main cargo bay, magnetically secured to the deck.

  Lucinda was driving the discussion.

  “Thank you for the summary, NT. Unless he has found more, we know Jymind is down to a handful of fighters. We can’t assume he picked up his marbles and went home. Landry?”

  Without a response, the monitors changed from a view of Earth and the docking platform to an image of the battlecruiser Defender of Lak’tsil. Next to the image of the battle-damaged cruiser appeared the schematic of the ship’s construction. Lucinda continued.

  “Question one, how did Admiral Jymind acquire the battlecruiser? Question two, how badly is it damaged? Question three, can it be repaired? Based on our research while you were playing nice with the TCCC, we have some answers. I do not suppose you are going to like our conclusions.

  “Question one is simple. Jymind took the Defender of Lak’tsil from the Degoraians. He bought it from the manufacturer when the Degoraians backed out of the agreement to buy the Defender of Lak’tsil. Leery and purposefully avoiding the pitfalls of interstellar travel, the Degoraians decided it was time to buy a battlecruiser to defend themselves. Data indicates Jymind forced the Degoraians to back out of the deal to buy the ship in exchange for not destroying their cities. We know how that ended …

  “The ship build was nearing completion, but Jymind demanded it early. He used it to destroy Degora. Look at the damage the Jaguar inflicted on the Defender of Lak’tsil. Compare the missing section to the blueprint. Landry has concluded the front third of the Defender of Lak’tsil was not operational when we engaged Jymind. We sliced off an unused appendage.”

  “Yes, but where did he get the bloody thing?”

  “Good question, Nick. Jirxena?”

  “There is a system beyond Zerain where many ships are built. The system is called Caracol by the Xjaal. The builders are the Caracoli.”

  Cass looked up and interrupted. “Again, with the Maya words and names … Caracol is the name of a Mayan stone tower complex. It means spiral in English. What does this name mean in Plentari?”

  In the months aboard the Jaguar, Jirxena had learned well to adapt to human communication norms. She continued, unfazed by the interruption.

  “What you call the Caracoli we call the Ah-Chuy-Kat or simply the K’aak. They are the deliverers of fire.”

  Cass didn’t bother to look up from her reading. “K’aak directly translates to fire. Ah-Chuy-Kat translates to fire destroyer. The Plentari are saying the Caracoli are badasses who build badass ships.”

  The humans showed slightly raised eyebrows
at Cass’s swear words before Jirxena continued.

  “Few were permitted to speak with the Caracoli. Before, the Xjaal prevented the Caracoli from communicating with anyone but the Xjaal for their transactions. Now, the Caracoli deal with anyone who has enough credits.

  “I recommend we go to Caracol and demand answers from the Caracoli.”

  “Why go all that way?”

  “Colonel Khatter, only the Caracoli can repair the Defender of Lak’tsil.”

  Two more hours of theorizing and planning ensued before Corb closed the dialogues.

  “We have consensus. The Jaguar will head directly for Caracol. If we get lucky, we will catch the Defender of Lak’tsil docked for repairs. If we are unlucky, we will make inquiries.

  “Josh, you are going to take the Marissa to Kripkeni with half a load of ore. The miners have a stockpile ready to load. We will send word to Admiral Jexond to send two flights, ten fighters, to Kripkeni for upgrades. You are to hang in system or head to Plentari and haul cargo. Either way, be at Kripkeni to load and transport the fighters to Sol as soon as the upgrades are complete.

  “Landry, please get Chairperson Patterson on a video call.”

  “Working.”

  “While we are waiting, Cass, is there any record of overt genocide in any of the files we collected?”

  Looking up, rubbing her eyes, Cass deflected the question.

  “Landry could answer that quicker than me.”

  Surprised, Corb pressed forward.

  “What about it, Landry, is there a record of overt genocide in the files we collected?”

  “Yes, Corb.”

  Surprised by the curt response, the assembly looked to Corb.

  “Landry, where and by whom was genocide committed before Jymind?”

  “The records indicate only one system suffered periods of genocide prior to the atrocity committed by Admiral Jymind.”