Echoes of Esharam

by Robert Davies

“Numbers,” White replied. “They’ve never been to Namadi territory and they need an overwhelming force to guarantee a successful conclusion. Gerald’s dramatic display aside, they want us to help them kill off an entire race of beings in one swift stroke. I’m sorry if it seems a bit callous, Eduard, but we have one hundred and ten thousand warships and twenty-two million well-equipped soldiers at our disposal. We are not without teeth and they obviously know it.”

  “They want cannon fodder, just as we suspected,” said Underhill.

  “Maybe they do,” White said, “but the tradeoff is not in our favor and they know that as well. With our help, they can defeat these creatures. Without their help however, we could not. You saw it all in those memories, Gerald; the Namadi will find Earth sooner or later—it’s only a matter of time.”

  “It’s still an enormous risk,” Fernandez said. “They are asking us to send almost our entire military force across half the galaxy to attack a civilization we know nothing about. Many of those soldiers won’t come home.”

  “If we don’t send them, there won’t be a home when the Namadi clouds get here.”

  Fernandez paced along the window, looking again at the gathering crowd far below. He wondered how many of them would be lost in the coming battle until finally, he turned and nodded.

  “Very well. I am not prepared to ignore the counsel of my three most senior ministers, so the remaining task is convincing the Congress. I don’t believe it will be as simple in practice as it is easy to say, but there it is.”

  “Perhaps,” White said, “the first contact between our people and the Khorrans or Anash will make that an easier prospect. The Ambassador has already assembled an advance team that will travel here to assist and guide our technicians and engineers. Also, it will take months to complete the hardware upgrades, let alone the tactical assessment and battle order. When those tasks begin, the delay should give us the chance to become better acquainted with them and, with luck, help us to establish a lasting and cooperative partnership.”

  Nishikawa stood, but her expression was more than resignation.

  “Noriko, do you have something to add?”

  “In the time we’ve been given to prepare, the news and entertainment media could, if encouraged in the proper direction, generate support among the people we could never match with only speeches; that fact should not be ignored here.”

  Underhill erupted with a loud guffaw, turning suddenly like an actor on a theatrical stage.

  “Oh, by all means! Please don’t let us miss so wonderful an opportunity to resurrect the noble, time-honored practice of blatant propaganda. What war would be complete without wholesale, institutional lies, after all?”

  “Do you have a better way?” Nishikawa shouted suddenly and the others fell silent. “You saw those memories for yourself!” she continued; “I’m sorry if this offends your sensitivities, but we go all out or we will watch humanity die when those goddamn clouds reach Earth!”

  Underhill blinked with sudden confusion at Nishikawa’s outburst, but she moved close to finish her point.

  “This is not a theoretical question from the safety of academia, Gerald—no discussion topic made to provoke a meaningless response from your fawning grad students in a Cambridge coffee shop! I wish we could decline and go have a drink somewhere, but we can’t. Either we help in this fight or we will see the end of humanity when the bombardment ships pour out from the Plexus. It’s time to move and stop pissing around!”

  In the awkward silence, they were left speechless at the cutting insult she aimed directly at Underhill. None of them had ever heard Noriko Nishikawa raise her voice or issue vulgarities, but her words only underscored the deadly importance of their task. In a handful of days, their existence as privileged government officials—conductors of an administrative orchestra—had been stolen away and transformed by the weight of a demand none of them could’ve foreseen. In their isolation atop the Congress building, each knew the depth of destruction and misery their authority alone would bring. They had come to the end of a sudden and strange process that would shape the history of humanity as a species and its effect could only be more terrible than any before. At last, Underhill nodded sadly.

  “I truly hope they do wish to become friends one day, Noriko. We are either on the doorstep of a magnificent future for humanity, or we are deliberately igniting the beginning of its end.”

  Fernandez gestured toward the door.

  “It’s time to address the Congress and get this out on the table.”

  THE PROPERTY MASTER for the entire neighborhood—a thin, weedy Khorran called Morav—waited as patiently as he could while Rantara inspected the final details of their sale agreement. Gone were the remnants of the house’s construction that littered the grounds only a week before, leaving their parcel on the edge of a sprawling park tidy and chic as the lights of evening winked on across Tevem. The landscaping would come in fully after a week or two, Morav insisted, but lavish Revallan shrubbery and grasses always took extra time.

  “We’re ready,” Rantara said, but immediately, she looked at Norris, hoping she hadn’t spoken out of turn. “Darrien, we are ready, aren’t we?”

  Norris smiled and nodded with a slight wink. It was pointless to think he could divert her when she so clearly wanted the place for their own. A three-level structure in the newest Revallan design fashion, with off-angle floors stacked one atop the other on stone columns to produce a strangely appealing, helical effect, it was certainly more than two people would ever need. But their view toward the warm and inviting Southern Ocean only a quarter kilometer down a gentle hill was worth the expense and Rantara meant to complete her journey to a normal life in style.

  “Yes,” he replied at last. “We’re all set.”

  With a tap of her finger, she directed the Central Tevem Repository Bank to transfer the credits and it was done. They watched at the edge of the landing pad where new grass sprouted as Morav’s air car lifted slowly for a return to Tevem’s city center. Behind them, their brand-new house bathed in slowly changing shades from accent lamps aimed upward to its walls as nightfall moved quietly over Tevem.

  “It’s a little upscale from what I’m used to, but it feels good to start out in a nice place where no one will try to kill us every day,” he said with a satisfied smirk.

  She turned to him, smiling in a rare moment when the concerns of their abnormal (and usually violent) life were safely hidden in another place. There were no thoughts of Kalarive or even the Namadi; no memories of Esharam and the final, incomplete phase of a mission to cloud or dull her joy. For a while, there was only the two of them in the back yard of their first home together where accent and walkway lights added a cheerful glow to a spectacular Sannaran sunset. Like any couple, the possibilities—and a gentle, ordinary future—were within their reach and no longer abstract dreams enjoyed by others.

  “We have a home, now, Darrien!”

  Norris took her hand for a short stroll around their property and the rare, silent calm held them both in its embrace.

  AFTER A WEEK, they were still getting used to the smells and subtle sounds of a new house, but mostly they enjoyed arranging furniture as each shipment arrived. Norris waited at the wide glass doors opening out toward the park, oddly similar to the fairway on an expensive golf course in one of the big resort colonies. He watched, somehow expecting the grass to grow faster, but grateful the neighborhood retained landscapers to deal with mowing and the trimming of shrubs that seemed to remind him by their odd colors how far from Earth he stood.

  Rantara loitered quietly in the middle of the kitchen fretting over options for décor, wavering between traditional Khorran and the slightly outlandish, trendy offerings from a noted Anashi designer. Norris joined her, but he remained silent; the trappings of all things domestic were not in his area of expertise. She thumbed through the images from a specialty store’s infopad when suddenly the chimes and winking blue light of the house’s comm unit broke the spel
l. They saw inbound call from Qural’s system, but Norris couldn’t resist an opportunity to tease and he winked knowingly at Rantara while isolating the signal to audio only.

  “Big Ted’s discount software; can I help you?”

  “I am sorry, Darrien,” Qural replied blandly, “but you tried that one the first time you were here and we still don’t understand why you find it amusing.”

  “Good evening to you, too, Ambassador,” Norris replied with a helpless sigh as Rantara shook her head in wonder.

  “Is Onallin with you?”

  “I’m here,” Rantara answered quickly, returning the comm to audio and video; “Please excuse him, Qural; Darrien’s mood is considerably more juvenile today than usual.”

  “I see,” Qural replied. “You have our sympathies, Onallin.”

  The banter was enjoyable, but it pointed at a better time and the relief of normalcy each felt during a much-needed interlude between phases of their mission. When Qural’s expression changed, they could guess why she called.

  “Have you heard something from Earth?” Rantara asked.

  Qural nodded and said, “The Terran Unified Congress ratified a declaration of support three days ago. I cannot describe my relief to know humanity stands ready to join with us in this most desperate struggle.”

  Norris leaned close to the monitor and said, “What’s the next step, Qural?”

  “I have made arrangements for a joint delegation of Anashi and Khorran representatives, largely technical, military and diplomatic in nature. They will meet with Ministers White and Underhill in…Geneva. Is that the correct pronunciation, Darrien?”

  “Yes,” he replied; “It’s a very nice city near the mountains; the government is located there. We used to call them the ‘Terrified Congress,’ but I guess that won’t work anymore.”

  “Ah,” Qural continued, ignoring Norris’ private joke. “We have seen multiple references in the communication bursts from Earth, but we wondered if it was a city or a planet. In any case, our advance teams will travel there in five days to begin preparatory work paving the way for the Terran enhancement project.”

  Norris smiled and glanced at Rantara.

  “Now they’re moving with a purpose; the images from the Saroqui memories must’ve worked on them pretty hard.”

  Rantara nodded and said, “Is there anything you need from us, Qural?”

  “Not at the moment. We will contact you when it is time to return to Fells Moll. Oh, and congratulations on your new house! Ommit wanted me to tell you he is shopping for a suitable gift. Take care of each other; we will see you both very soon.”

  When the link closed, Rantara smiled where she stood beside him, but Norris wore a different expression.

  “Darrien?”

  He looked away.

  “She’s always seen things in a brighter light; Qural thinks the trip to the Namadi control station is just another step. To her, our success is a foregone conclusion.”

  Rantara leaned against the table’s edge.

  “When we first arrived on Fells Moll, I didn’t care who or what she was, I just wanted to get you into our own ship and keep moving. I admit, the prospect of having to look over my shoulder for Tremmek’s assassination squads was part of it, but I wanted us to leave all of it behind and disappear for a while. I wanted you all to myself, but it was more than that.”

  “You were a Khorran, alone in Anashi space,” Norris replied; “it couldn’t have been easy.”

  “It’s not a very nice commentary on my judgment, but I thought Qural was being manipulated by Anashi Intelligence to find out whatever it was Tindas and Torbal were up to; I believed they were simply using her to get to them. Either way, none of it mattered; we were free from Bera Nima and all I could think of was finding a little colony somewhere so far from the war, no one would care who we were. I didn’t trust her, Darrien—I was waiting for the hidden story to emerge, but it never did because there wasn’t one.”

  “Was my past with her a part of that? Did you mistrust her because of what she was to me when I first came here?”

  “No. It would be understandable to some, I suppose, but Qural never gave me enough reason to continue that suspicion. After a while, it became obvious her intentions were genuine, and I think she changed her mind about me, too.”

  “How?”

  “She knew who and what I was. When I intercepted Torbal in the days before our escape, she may have been surprised by it, but ultimately, she could see an asset—another soldier to her purpose. Khorran or otherwise, I was valuable because she knew your safety would be assured as long as I was with you. But then, in spite of my past, she welcomed me into her home and she showed her trust. It took a while for me to recognize it, but in the end, it was very clear.”

  “She’s become a friend now; Qural is important to you.”

  “Yes, she is. Remember, I was raised to distrust all Anash, Darrien. We were taught from an early age, and they were as well. Qural may have been less willing to accept those expectations in her role as an ambassador, but I assure you, as a child, she was taught to hate and fear all Khorrans. Now, we’ve been given something else—a true purpose that might one day wash away all those hatreds and I’m grateful for it.”

  Norris stood and walked to where the kitchen opened into a dining area, still vacant its table and chairs.

  “I guess she knows as well as we do how difficult this is going to be; she’s simply trying to keep our spirits up before we go.”

  “Maybe,” Rantara replied, “but there’s another possibility.”

  “Oh?”

  “Perhaps she simply believes in us.”

  IN THE SUMMER months, it was customary to desert the city in favor of cooler temperatures in the foothills beyond, yet many stayed on with the news of the Namadi threat. She was awake sooner than normal, scanning through situation reports that only just arrived when the dedicated comm channel hummed its alert; he was calling.

  “Something new?” she asked.

  “I am sending the transcript to you now, but the burst just came in moments ago; the humans are committed and their preparations are underway.”

  She closed her eyes and smiled.

  “They understand what’s being asked of them?”

  “So it would seem. Embree is sending an advance team of Anashi and Khorran specialists to begin the process of refitting their ships. Even better, the intercepted message traffic out to one of the Terran colonies indicated the mobilization of nineteen million soldiers, along with seventy thousand warships, support vessels and transports.”

  “Have we seen any images from the Terran worlds?”

  “Not many at this point, but enough to know the hysteria is building nicely. I cannot say with certainty if the powerful reaction is organic, or merely a product of the President’s impassioned call to action, but the human population across the whole of their territory is now mobilizing with obvious determination.”

  “Excellent. This is better than we could’ve hoped for. A message signal just came in as we were speaking, which I presume is my notification from Rillix.”

  “Undoubtedly; I have just received a meeting request with the Chancellor, too. They will have learned from Embree and your Ambassador, so it will be important for us to feign surprise.”

  “We’ve been waiting for this moment a long time, haven’t we?”

  “At last, we need not pretend ignorance when speaking about it with our superiors. In an odd sort of way, I find the moment to be delightfully liberating!”

  She laughed and nodded.

  “Tindas and Embree were right after all; the images inside those memories are the only reason any of them agreed to this.”

  “Apparently it was, but now the hard work begins and I pray the covert action will succeed.”

  “Why wouldn’t it?”

  “You have seen the intelligence from Primus—the Namadi station; these people the Ambassador is sending to find the exit points for the bombardment cl
ouds are going in blind.”

  “Yes, but they’re also prepared; between the detachment of commandos, and this group of operatives, they should be able to deal with anything that comes at them.”

  “They should, but we both know there are no guarantees; we simply do not have enough data to predict the Namadi response.”

  “True enough, but that is why we have a Task Group of twenty-three masked warships on standby; if Embree’s people fail, we will simply obliterate the station from orbit and silence it forever. Once removed, we continue with the saturation plan and mine every possible exit point along the entire Plexus network in the Frontier.”

  “It may not be enough. The Gap is a very big, very empty place; without those exit points, a considerable number of bombardment ships will find their targets and when they do, millions of our people will die before we can stop it.”

  “I know that, but what other choice do we have? If the information cannot be recovered, our only available avenue is mining the entire region to eliminate as many clouds as we can. The combined naval forces will have to deal with the rest, but keep in mind, the Terran military is now with us in this fight and their ship count is staggering.”

  “At least we will know where to direct the task group if the need arises; Renn’s navigator has been instructed to send back positon reports through the Hyperthread relay pods every hour, so it would be a simple process to follow their course. Perhaps we should elevate the task group’s readiness level now?”

  “One step at a time, my friend. Speaking of which, I noticed the mission preparations seem to be nearing completion as well. Do we know when they intend to set course for Primus Station?”

  “Tindas is sending out notifications from Qural’s estate now; Rantara and Norris have settled on Sannaris, but the others are scattered.”

  “The linguist is here on Belex, as I recall, coordinating for the Anashi government, but what of your doctor and the little assassin?”

  “The latest tracking information shows them still in residence with Doleval’s family on the Revallan home world, but Embree will surely contact them.”