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Peacekeeper 2

Page 8

by Doug Farren


  “I gather you have an extensive collection from which to choose,” Lashpa interrupted. “Let’s finish watching the one that’s currently playing and then pick one from another series. I’m curious.”

  Tom enthusiastically restarted the show and together they finished watching it. After a short break during which they discussed the program, Tom selected the pilot episode of Star Trek the Next Generation. Afterward, Lashpa admitted she still did not care for the programs. A day later though, she asked if they could watch another one. Despite her reservations it became part of their routine.

  The next day, during breakfast, the peacekeepers received a surprise. During a lull in the conversation, Lashpa’s ship said, “Excuse me.”

  “Yes Krish?” Lashpa asked, looking at Tom. It wasn’t hard for him to determine she was wondering the same thing he was; what had prompted her ship to initiate a conversation in such a manner.

  “The Orion has suggested that I download Tom’s biolink interface parameters.”

  “Explain the reasoning behind this request,” Lashpa directed.

  “There is considerable interference from the stardrive fields making it difficult for the Orion to interpret Tom’s biolink signal. I can act as an intermediary providing the Orion with a clearer link. It would also allow Tom to ask me for assistance if he desires.”

  Tom shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t see any reason to say no,” he said. Looking at Lashpa he continued, “I’m alright with it if you are.”

  “Permission granted Krish.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Tom shook his head. “There are times when I think our ships are as sentient as we are.”

  “They’re programmed that way,” she replied. “Their heuristic algorithms are very complex. Krish has surprised me on a number of occasions.”

  The next day, Tom was relaxing in Lashpa’s stateroom after the two had finished a very intense game of chess. Lashpa walked into the bathroom but did not close the door. After a few minutes, he began to wonder what she was doing. Setting his glass of water down, he got up and asked, “Everything okay in there?”

  Lashpa stuck her head out the door, held up a glass partially filled with a dark, yellow liquid and said, “I’ll only be a bit longer.”

  “What is that?” Tom asked, walking toward her.

  Instead of answering, she placed a tubular object in her mouth, held the glass under one of the ends and then bit down–hard. A small amount of the same colored liquid dripped out of the end of the tube and into the glass. After removing the tube she said, “That feels better.”

  “Is that venom?” Tom asked.

  “I thought you knew,” she replied. She disappeared from view for a moment then returned without the glass.

  “I guess I’ve always known that a Rouldian’s bite can be fatal. But I never thought about how. Why did you do that?”

  “The glands that produce the venom need to be periodically drained or they become painful and begin to leak. It’s usually not a problem for most people because the venom is released every time we eat. But since becoming a cyborg I don’t need to eat as much and the glands tend to fill up.”

  “Can’t they be removed?”

  “Not without causing severe health issues,” she replied. “There’s a complex biochemical interaction between the toxin in the venom, the anti-toxin we produce in a gland near the base of our brain, and our brain chemistry. Removing the venom glands will result in a brain disorder. The person becomes violent and anti-social.”

  “You would think the Omel would be able to solve a problem like that.”

  “Apparently not. Otherwise I wouldn’t have to do that.”

  About mid-way through the trip, Tom was watching a comedy in the main part of his stateroom while brushing his teeth. The door was open and Lashpa walked in. Holding the toothbrush in his mouth, he turned around and watched as Lashpa came to a sudden halt, her tail practically vibrating with concern.

  “Tom! Are you alright?”

  It took all of Tom’s strength not to burst out laughing which would have been disastrous since he had a mouthful of foam. He held up a finger then calmly walked to the bathroom. After rinsing his mouth, he returned and said, “I’m fine.”

  Lashpa tilted her head to one side. “What were you doing? For a moment I thought you had suddenly contracted a devastating disease.”

  Tom was stunned. “You’ve never seen anyone brush their teeth before?”

  “Why would you want to brush your teeth?” she asked. “What was that white foam coming out of your mouth?”

  Tom paused the show he was watching and carefully explained the need for humans to brush their teeth. “So, am I to believe that Rouldians don’t clean their teeth?”

  “We do, but not with a brush,” she replied.

  “What do you use?”

  “My tongue.”

  “Your tongue? I’m not sure I understand.”

  Lashpa took a step forward. “Closely examine the edges of my tongue,”she instructed. Without any hesitation, she stuck her long, slender tongue out of her mouth and held it there.

  Tom utilized the magnification abilities of his eyes to get a closer look at the outside edges of her tongue. Sure enough, both sides were covered in fine, stiff hairs. He could see how they could act as a natural toothbrush.

  “Why don’t I feel these when you taste me?” he asked.

  Pulling her tongue back, she said, “Because I’m always very careful where I touch you. The cleaning hairs do not extend all the way to the tip which is also where my taste buds are located.”

  All these events and others brought them closer together. What really solidified their bond occurred at the unconscious level; learning how to read each other’s emotions. Not the easy to see things all species use to openly express themselves, but the subtle things each culture instinctually understands. A tiny muscle twitch. A flick of the tail. All creatures have a unique secret language that is nearly impossible for other species to detect unless they spend a great deal of time living in close proximity to one another.

  Rouldians have an extensive but subtle body language that serves the same purpose as human facial expressions. The way they hold their tail or their head, tiny movements or twitches of the tail, hands, or other body parts, and small variations in how they stand, all contribute to a Rouldian’s complex body language. Without even realizing it was happening, Tom learned how to read Lashpa’s unspoken language.

  Lashpa, in turn, learned how to interpret Tom’s facial expressions, the tone of voice he used, how he scratched the back of his head when he was nervous, and how he busied himself with other activities to avoid discussing an embarrassing or difficult topic. By the end of the trip, they were able to read each other as well as any other member of their own race.

  As they came to the end of their 23-day trip, Tom discovered he’d become a firm believer in gragrakch. Lashpa never had any doubts. She trusted her instincts and the results of the trip only confirmed what she’d already known; despite the fact they were from different planets, she and Tom were gragrakch.

  Chapter 13

  “I do not agree with this!” Doctor Arsta argued.

  “You did declare him mentally competent, did you not?” Peacekeeper Morris asked.

  “I did, but- - -”

  “Do you also agree that Mr. Monder fully understands the risk he’s taking?” Morris interrupted.

  “He does. But- - -”

  “Then there’s nothing more to be said.”

  “I rescind my diagnosis,” the doctor announced, crossing his arms over his chest. “His actions are clearly those of someone who is not- - -”

  “Doctor,” Peacekeeper Morris said in a firm tone. “I appreciate your concern but the decision has been made.”

  The doctor looked at the peacekeeper then tried to appeal to the hospital director who had remained silent during the entire argument. “I’m sorry Doctor Arsta,” the director said. “You’ve declared Mr. M
onder to be mentally fit. He has accepted the death of his wife and child even though he has no memory of the events that took place on the Spirondak. We have explained to him what is to be done and the risk it poses to him and he has expressed his desire to help. The memory is there and Peacekeeper Morris desperately needs to know what happened. I will not interfere.”

  “Since you’re so worried about what might happen,” Morris said, “I shall expect you to continue to observe Mr. Monder while we proceed.”

  Defeated, the doctor sat down heavily and stared at the floor.

  Elith Monder, sitting in the chair next to the doctor, turned and said, “Doctor Arsta, I may not remember what happened, but I still remember my wife and our son. I know they’re gone along with everyone else aboard the Spirondak. I want to know what happened. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Elith Monder,” Peacekeeper Morris said. “I must ask one more time if you’re willing to risk having another mental breakdown in order to help us learn who attacked your ship?”

  Monder had come out of his catatonic state a few days ago. The doctors allowed him to sleep and eat for two days before telling him what had happened. Peacekeeper Morris allowed him to mourn the loss of his family for another four hours but the need for information drove him to desperate measures. They had exhausted all other leads and the memory locked inside Monder’s brain was the only way they were going to learn who attacked the Spirondak. By presenting Monder with a picture of every known type of ship, they were hoping one of them would trigger the memory. There was a risk though; it might send him back into a state of catatonic shock.

  “My wife is dead,” Monder said. “My son is dead. I’m willing to take any risk necessary to help find out who killed them. Show me the pictures.”

  Morris swung the monitor into position and said, “Computer, begin.”

  Chapter 14

  Masthuma heard the distinct sound of a computer pad hitting the floor on the other side of the room. Pads were a scarce commodity and they did not have the facilities to repair them. Angry, Masthuma pushed himself away from his workstation.

  “This is impossible!” he heard someone yell as he rounded a large piece of equipment.

  “Section Leader Gernith!” Masthuma yelled, getting angrier as he approached. The pad was lying on the floor. The screen was cracked. “Explain yourself!”

  Gernith kicked the pad causing it to skitter across the floor until it slammed into a wall. “The computer doesn’t know what the hell it’s asking me to do. Who’s the brilliant idiot who said it was possible to convert a medical imager into a molecular scanner?”

  Masthuma had reached his breaking point. Everyone, including himself, had been complaining about the increased work load and having to live underground like a shurmeth. Tensions had been building for days. Masthuma swung his arm in a wide arc using the muscles in his torso to give him added speed and strength. Gernith saw the blow coming and tried to raise his arm to block the attack. There was a loud crack as Masthuma’s thick forearm caught Gernith’s wrist at just the right angle, snapping it. Momentum allowed Masthuma’s arm to continue moving until it plowed into Gernith’s chest sending him flying into the machine he’d been working on.

  Ignoring his pain, Gernith quickly recovered and jumped towards Masthuma, claws fully extended and aimed for his neck. Masthuma backed away and Gernith’s claws raked through empty air. Masthuma’s arm came down on Gernith’s back forcing the off-balanced engineer to the floor.

  “Chief!” Captain Varku’s commanding voice cause both combatants to freeze.

  Masthuma looked down at Gernith, snarled, shook his head, then turned to face Varku. “Captain, I was disciplining Section Leader Gernith for damaging irreplaceable equipment and disrespect towards a superior officer.”

  Turning his head so he could look down at the section leader who was slowly getting up while holding his broken wrist, Masthuma added, “I’m the one who said we could modify the medical imager.”

  Varku looked at Gernith. “Report to medical.”

  As soon as Gernith was out of ear-shot, Varku turned to Masthuma and said, “You’re not setting a good example for your men. I know there are many who are not happy with the current situation but you must help maintain calm. Things will change—soon. For now, I need you to focus on figuring out how to make the Kyrra weaponry work. That is your top priority, am I clear chief?”

  Masthuma looked Varku straight in the eye. He knew the Captain was right. “I understand Captain. I will always serve you with honor.”

  Glancing at his wrist-com, Varku said, “You’d better go or you’re going to be late for the daily status report. I will be there shortly.”

  “Yes Captain.”

  * * * * *

  Commander Choback walked into the conference room and took his place at the head of the table. With so much activity going on, he had instigated a policy of daily status reports. After taking his seat, the Commander looked at Zathkra and said, “Proceed Base Commander.”

  “The new crew quarters should be completed in about five days,” Zathkra reported from memory. “The cargoliner has provided us with a sufficient amount of material to finish construction. We’ve also completed an inventory of the ship’s contents. We should be able to make use of its air and water purification systems as well as its reactors to increase the habitability and reliability of the base’s life support systems. There were no components we could adapt to improve the base’s combat capability. It has also provided us with sufficient consumables to last at least 190 days.”

  “Engineer Masthuma?”

  “I believe we’ve determined how to power the Kyrra shield generator. We’ll not be able to confirm this until it can be moved to the test facility we’re building on the other side of the planetoid. We’re still trying to figure out how to control it. The Kyrra design is unusual in that the shield generator and the stardrive are contained in the same unit making it exceedingly difficult to determine its internal workings. I am working on a way to improve the detail of our internal scans.”

  Masthuma paused for a moment. Based on the look that had appeared on Choback’s face, he assumed the Commander was about to interrupt. When he remained silent, Masthuma continued.

  “The new access tunnel to the planet-killer has been completed and expanded. We’re still in the process of clearing a path through the ship so we can move the generator to the test site. I had my reactor expert examine what we believe is the ship’s primary power source. He’s firmly convinced, as I am, that the ship’s main reactor is powered by matter/antimatter annihilation. The configuration of the fuel tanks suggests it was powered by some sort of solid form of antimatter. We’ve also removed a complete matter converter assembly and are now trying to determine how it operates. I’ve looked at the ship’s main- - -”

  “Why is your analysis of the shield generator taking so long?” Choback demanded.

  Masthuma had to concentrate very hard not to show how angry he was. He doubted Choback had heard any of the last part of his report. “Commander, we are soldiers, not scientists,” he replied. “We do not have access to the type of equipment that- - -”

  “This is an engineering problem,” Choback cut him off. “You’re my chief engineer. If you cannot solve this problem then perhaps I will have to find a new chief engineer.”

  Masthuma started to get out of his chair but stopped when Captain Varku put a hand on his shoulder. “Chief Engineer Masthuma has a valid point Commander. We’re dealing with a level of technology beyond our own. This sort of project should be handled by a team of scientists at a properly equipped research facility. Masthuma is our most experienced engineer and he’s doing the best he can with the limited resources at his disposal.”

  Choback looked at the Captain then back at Masthuma. “If it’s a matter of resources, I will make sure you get the people you need.”

  “I have enough people at the moment Commander,” Masthuma replied, grateful for Varku’s assistance. “The maj
or problem is a lack of sophisticated scanning equipment and the software necessary to analyze the data. We’ve managed to modify some of our instruments to provide better resolution. But it’s not good enough. I am working on modifying an Alliance medical imager to give us a resolution down to the molecular level at a depth of six centimeters. We’ve even had to build some of our equipment from scratch. Scanning the Kyrra devices, converting the data into usable computer simulations, and analyzing those simulations to figure out how the devices work or how to control them all takes time.”

  Choback nodded his head as if he understood but the look on his face told a different story. “I must rely on your expertise in engineering. If you need anything at all, I want to know about it. But hear this—I expect results.”

  “I understand.”

  “What have you learned about the ship’s main energy cannon?”

  Masthuma was hoping to avoid discussing this feature of the ship. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to fire it,” he admitted, bracing himself for what he certainly believed would be a bad reaction from Choback.

  Instead of launching into another tirade, Choback surprised Masthuma by saying, “Explain.”

  “The cannon does not appear to get the majority of its power from the main power grid. It’s connected directly to the matter and the antimatter storage tanks, leading us to believe it’s powered by an internally controlled matter/antimatter reaction. We do not have the facilities to manufacture or store antimatter and we certainly don’t have the ability to create the type of antimatter fuel used by the Kyrra.”

  “Can it be powered by another source?”

  “I doubt it Commander, but we’ll continue our analysis of its design.”

  Choback looked around the room, “Does anyone else have anything?” After a brief delay, he said, “Then we’re done—dismissed.”

  Chapter 15

 

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