Peacekeeper

by Doug Farren

  To save time, Tom decided to interview both war veterans at the same time. After verifying they were at home, he asked if they would be willing to travel to a spaceport located roughly halfway between them. They both agreed even though Tom declined to tell them why he needed to speak to them.

  The first to arrive was 81-year-old Hiandra ti Nothrin. Tom arranged for a car to pick him up at the maglev station. Hiandra confidently stepped out of the car, and without any hesitation, walked directly towards the lowered entrance ramp. Tom met him at the top.

  “Thank you for coming here to meet with me on such short notice.”

  Hiandra stopped and looked Tom in the eye. “When a Peacekeeper makes a request, it is wise to agree unless it is impossible to do so.”

  Tom showed his guest to one of the ship’s guest staterooms that also doubled as a small conference room. A selection of Tholtaran snacks and beverages was available at one end of the table, compliments of the spaceport’s restaurant. In order to make his guests feel more comfortable, he had ordered the ship to turn up the temperature in the room.

  “Please, help yourself to the snacks and drinks,” Tom said. “My other guest is en route and will be here shortly.”

  “Your other guest?”

  “Yes. There are two people on this planet whom I need to interview and it was more efficient to talk to the both of you at the same time. I will be back in a few minutes.”

  Ten minutes later, a second car arrived with 83-year-old Nynict R’Losher ti Suteanus. She was accompanied by her husband Losher ti Suteanus. Nynict stopped and stared at the Orion until her husband gently took her arm and guided her toward the ramp. Tom greeted them as he had his first guest.

  Nynict looked up and after making fleeting contact with Tom’s eyes looked down at his feet, “I hope it was okay for me to bring my husband along with me.” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  Tom’s training had prepared him for this possibility. In Tholtaran society, females and males were viewed as equals unless the female was married. Prior to marriage (which was often arranged by their families) males and females lacked any attraction for one another. Both sexes felt a strong desire to produce offspring but such feelings did not translate into strong emotional attraction for the opposite sex. The consummation of the marriage, however, initiated a major change in both partners. The female becomes meek and very dependent upon her husband and the male becomes strongly attached to his wife. Barring Losher from accompanying his wife to the meeting would have been seen as an insult.

  “Of course not,” Tom replied. “Please follow me.”

  Although they were in their eighties, the Tholtarans were in very good health. They had access to Omel life-prolonging treatments and even though they were retired, were considered to be in their middle ages. Hyiandra looked up as Losher and Nynict entered the room. His eyes narrowed and he looked at Tom with suspicion. After a moment, he turned his attention to the couple and addressed Losher, “I am Hiandra ti Nothrin. It is good to see Nynict again. It has been many years since we last met.”

  “I am Losher ti Suteanus. Nynict is now R’Losher ti Suteanus.”

  The unobservant would have missed the complex social interactions that had just taken place. Hiandra had recognized Nynict but was unsure if she was now Losher’s mate. A Terran would have greeted his old friend first. If Hiandra had done so, he would have insulted Losher, effectively putting him into an inferior position. Choosing the safer route, he had addressed Losher first and immediately indicated that he had known Nynict in the past. Losher had confirmed his suspicion by claiming Nynict as his mate by identifying her as R’Losher ti Suteanus.

  Using his biolink, Tom ordered the Orion to establish level one security. “Please, help yourself to some refreshments and have a seat,” he said aloud.

  Although the shift was barely discernible, Hiandra’s hand paused in the act of reaching for a beverage. “We are lifting off,” he said.

  “Only far enough above the landing field to allow the ship to raise its shield,” Tom explained. “The ship is establishing level one security so we can talk in complete privacy. Except for the ship’s AI, no recordings of this conversation will be made.”

  Nynict reached out and grasped her mate’s hand. She looked at Hiandra but said nothing.

  “Does this have something to do with our attack on Olympus?" Hiandra asked.

  Tom was impressed. Hiandra had managed to come to that conclusion based on the fact he and Nynict shared that single important event.

  “It is,” he admitted, taking a seat. Had he remained standing, he may have confused the Tholtarans; superiors sat while inferiors stood. By sitting down and not asking them to stand, he was telling the Tholtarans that this was a meeting between equals.

  Everything that impinged upon a Peacekeeper’s senses was recorded by his ship. This included the conversation Sorbith had overheard in the restaurant, as well as what he had seen on that day. The moment Tom saw Hiandra, his ship told him he was the one Sorbith had seen.

  Since it was impossible for someone to see where a Peacekeeper’s eyes were directed, Tom purposefully turned his head toward each of his three guests as he spoke. “What we are about to discuss will not become part of any official record. Our conversation is not being recorded and I give you my word as a Peacekeeper that what you say in this room will be kept absolutely confidential. I am investigating a potential issue involving the security of the entire Alliance and I need you to be absolutely honest with me no matter what you have been asked to do by anyone else.”

  Hiandra’s eyes went wide open.

  Looking directly at Hiandra, Tom said, “Several months ago, you went to Earth to visit a Terran who had befriended you while you were a prisoner of war, correct?”

  “I did,” he replied, his eyes narrowing.

  “A Peacekeeper happened to overhear your conversation. Based on what was said, we believe you might possess the key to solving a major security breach potentially involving every member of the Alliance.”

  Sweat broke out on Hiandra’s forehead as the color in his face seemed to drain away. “How many others know about this?”

  “Three or four Peacekeepers,” Tom admitted. “There’s no need to worry. This information is being kept strictly confidential as evidenced by the fact that this ship is now operating under level one security.”

  “You want to know about the phantom fleet, don’t you?” Hiandra asked, causing Nynict to take in a sharp breath.

  “I do,” Tom admitted. “Nynict, do you know anything about this?”

  Nynict looked at her mate who nodded his head. “I do. I was assigned to the tactical station of a battleship that took part in the attack on Olympus. There was a second fleet on our tactical display but it failed to register on our active scans. We assumed it was some new form of countermeasure. When the fleet failed to engage the base, our Captain began to question whether or not it actually existed.”

  “I was on the bridge of the flagship,” Hiandra admitted. “When it became clear that Third Fleet was being ignored by the base, Group Commander Mernaga ordered me to contact them. They did not reply.”

  Nynict again took up the narrative. She spoke as if revealing a secret she had wanted to tell for many years. “When the battle was over and we became prisoners of war, I spoke to several others about the strange behavior of Third Fleet. All of us had come to the same conclusion; the fleet did not exist. Group Commander Mernaga overheard our discussion and ordered us not to talk about it. After the war, the military told us the same thing—we were to remain silent.”

  That would make sense, Tom thought. The Tholtaran military would try very hard to suppress the fact that someone had managed to penetrate their supposedly impenetrable security.

  “Do you know who did this?” Hiandra asked, then quickly added, “Whoever was responsible for manipulating our tactical network had to have been the same who faked our orders to attack Olympus in the first place.”

 
“Why do you think the orders were faked?” Tom asked.

  “Because we would never have attacked a heavily defended base with such a small force,” Losher said, breaking his silence. “Someone wanted us to lose. The only possible explanation I’ve been able to come up with is that Terrans started the war.”

  “That is pure speculation,” Hiandra replied, in a condescending tone. Looking at Tom, he continued, “No offense, but no matter how arrogant Terrans are, they knew we would crush them in any conflict. It had to be someone else.”

  “I agree,” Tom replied. “We did not possess the technology to penetrate your secure military networks. We believe there is an unknown force at work that has been manipulating the relations between the various members of the Alliance for quite some time now. I was sent here simply to confirm what Peacekeeper Sorbith overhead as well as gather any information you may have that might help us discover who may have started the war.”

  “I am afraid I cannot help you there,” Nynict said, lowering her eyes. “I can only tell you what I know happened.”

  Tom looked at Hiandra. His only reply was to shake his head.

  “I am afraid you have come all this way for nothing,” Losher said, putting an arm around his mate. “I am sorry about accusing Terrans of causing the war. Old memories and feelings are often hard to put aside.”

  “No offense taken,” Tom said, bowing his head slightly. “I have confirmed something that may help give us a clue as to who is behind this. You have been a great help. Is there anything I can do in return?”

  There was a moment of silence before Losher said, “If you ever find the answers you are seeking, I would like to know who was responsible for starting the war. I will curse them every morning and every night in the hopes that justice will be served.”

  “If I am able, I will honor that request.”

  The Orion returned to the landing field and Tom escorted his visitors off his ship. While they waited for the car that was to take them back to the maglev station, he asked Hiandra, “Did you have a good reunion with your Terran friend?”

  A smile formed on Hiandra’s face. “I did. Although the majority of the guards treated us well, Jack seemed to be one of the few who wanted to know more about our culture. He was genuinely interested in learning about my people and he used this knowledge to make our imprisonment bearable.”

  “Terrans are a very strange lot,” Losher said. Noticing that he had gotten Tom’s attention, he continued, “If our roles had been reversed, there would have been no prisoners.”

  Tom was confused. “But if Tholtarans don’t take prisoners, how is it that you came to accept an offer of surrender and allowed yourselves to be taken prisoner?”

  “You do not understand. Civilians are offered the opportunity to surrender, whereas armed combatants are not; we kill them and we continue to kill them until they are no longer a threat. Then and only then will we consider offering the survivors the opportunity to surrender with severe restrictions in their ability to continue to wage war. We believe war is between warriors and not civilians. But, if an enemy defeats us and offers us a chance to surrender, we see it as a sign of weakness and willingly accept because it means we have a chance to continue to fight.”

  Tom had learned this at the academy but it hadn’t carried any meaning until now. Suddenly, he understood why many older Tholtarans seemed to look down on Terrans as inherently weak. In Tholtaran society, a warrior was expected to continue to fight until he was killed in battle. To offer the enemy a chance to fight again was a sign of weakness. He was still thinking about this when the car arrived.

  Tom’s next destination was the heavily populated world of V’na-Thrak. The four-day trip would give him time to finish his first carving challenge. Unlike chess, which seemed to come naturally for him, carving turned out to be a difficult skill to master. Three days out from Anar-B’ren, Tom was working on the delicate task of creating the tines of a wooden fork when his ship said, “I have received a message from Peacekeeper Collins on Earth.”

  Collins Sorbith's second in command. Setting his work aside, Tom leaned back and said, “Let’s see it.”

  The text appeared to float in the air in front of him. It was a visual effect produced when the ship sent messages directly to his cybernetic eyes. It read, ‘I thought you might like to know that John Muldalga called. He said they found what you were looking for. I’m keeping an eye on it until you and Sorbith return.”

  “Has Sorbith seen this message?”

  “The message header indicates that a copy has been sent to his ship.”

  “Turn us around and set course for Earth,” Tom ordered. “Send the following to Sorbith: Conducted two interviews and confirmed that what you overheard is true. I don’t believe any further interviews are necessary. Returning to Earth.”

  “Message transmitted. Altering course.”

  Tom picked up his wooden fork but put it down again a few minutes later. He tried playing a game of chess with the Orion but his mind kept wandering and he quickly lost interest.

  “There’s nothing you can do until we arrive back on Earth,” the Orion told him. “Patience is the hallmark of a good Peacekeeper.”

  “I know that,” Tom snapped, frustrated with his own inability to control his impatience. “Sorry,” he quickly said after realizing how he sounded. “I always thought I had a great deal of patience. I guess I don’t.”

  “I have observed your actions long enough to be able to confirm that you do possess a significant amount of patience when needed,” the ship replied. “You are also a man of action, preferring to take care of a known problem now instead of putting it off until later. These are the qualities that made you such a valuable resource to the captain of the Komodo Dragon. He could count on you to work on a problem until it was solved. But there are some problems that must wait.”

  Tom couldn’t help but smile. “There are times when I think you know me better than I know myself. Dig through your archive of old movies and surprise me with something. Maybe that will help get my mind off what John found.”

  The lights dimmed slightly as the screen came to life. At first, Tom thought his AI had lost its mind but after a few minutes, he found his attention riveted to the screen as an episode of Dexter’s Laboratory, a cartoon from Earth’s distant past, played itself out.

  Chapter 26

  Tom walked into the conference room and looked around. Six other Peacekeepers had already arrived and were milling about. He had been surprised when Sorbith ordered him to land at the Tycho base instead of proceeding directly to Earth. Tom spotted Sorbith and walked over to him.

  “How did your meeting with the Supreme Fleet Commander go?”

  “It was short,” Sorbith replied. “He claimed to have no knowledge of any breach of their communications network and insisted that their tactical data network had never been infiltrated.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Actually, I do. I wouldn’t put it past the Tholtarans to erase every possible trace of such a breach of security. They take great pride in their military accomplishments and such a failure would be very embarrassing. The current Fleet Commander would have no need to know if such a breach had ever occurred.”

  “Did you mention what you overheard in the restaurant?”

  “I would never do that!” Sorbith replied. “I’m sure the Tholtaran government ordered anyone who might have heard about the phantom fleet not to talk about it. There could be serious consequences for anyone if it was learned they had disobeyed those orders. I told him we were investigating a potential, long-standing security breach involving the primary hubs and wanted to make sure it hadn’t spilled over into their network.”

  “Excellent!" Tom replied. “The two people I interviewed were very nervous when I brought up the subject of the phantom fleet but they did seem relieved to finally be able to talk about it.”

  The door opened and two more Peacekeepers walked in. Sorbith glanced at the new arrivals and
said, “Everyone is here. Time to start the meeting.”

  Tom took another quick look around and said, “I don’t see Chyr.”

  “She is tracking another cargo vessel,” Sorbith replied. “I’ll tell you about it after the meeting." Raising his voice he said, “Would everyone please have a seat so we can get started.”

  There was an orderly movement and in less than a minute all but one of the Peacekeepers were seated. The lone exception was a Rouldian who remained standing at the back of the room.

  “Everyone in this room has been involved in the investigation into the AOH,” Sorbith began. “To speed things up, I’m going to dispense with the introductions. Your ships can provide you with such information more efficiently than I can. Some time ago, we discovered some malicious code in our communication hubs. Experts at the Tanami station have been analyzing this code in an attempt to identify who is responsible for putting it there. Based upon recently obtained evidence, I am now convinced the code was incorporated into the hub’s software decades ago.”

  “You can’t be serious?” someone exclaimed. Tom suddenly realized that Sorbith must not have shared his suspicions with everyone.

  “I am,” Sorbith replied. “I have suspected this for some time but have not made it common knowledge until now because I have not had any proof. At the end of this meeting, I will provide each of you with a data crystal detailing what we have discovered to date. In the meantime, several recent discoveries have provided us enough information to allow us to act.”

  The lights dimmed and a frozen image appeared on the room’s large monitor. A second later, the image came to life. “My name is John Muldalga. Sorbith asked me to record this video to explain our recent discovery. Following a lead given to us by Peacekeeper Wilks, we discovered a large amount of very sophisticated unauthorized code running in our primary communication hubs. As best as we can determine, it has been there since before the war with the Tholtarans. This code has given an unknown group the ability to read and alter our encrypted messages.”