The Huralon Incident

by E A Wicklund

  “A good thought, Andy. But, if we break cover we’ll be seen for sure. If the drone didn’t see us, we’ll be giving ourselves away and inviting disaster for nothing. That had to have been a big damned knot for Raj to jump so quickly.” He opened up a screen at his right hand with a gesture. It appeared out of nowhere—Archimedes recognizing his intent. He pulled up the logs from the ensign’s view of the dark strata from the last few minutes. McCray had some idea of what a dark strata knot looked like. Scanning through the swirling blobs that visually portrayed the strata, he saw nothing like one.

  He reopened the private channel to Zahn. “Andy, take a look at Raj’s logs. Tell me if you see a knot in the past five minutes.”

  McCray fidgeted while he waited, weighing his options for his next move.

  Zahn answered on the private channel. “Sir. Going strictly on what you asked, then no, I didn’t see any.”

  McCray felt like the deck dropped away from his feet. That made no sense. “Then why make the maneuver? And why did Putnam Sound match it?”

  “I would say Raj and Putnam Sound’s navigators both followed standard navigational procedures perfectly.”

  McCray stared at Zahn. “Okay, you’ve lost me.”

  “Raj did exactly what he should’ve done.”

  McCray rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. “Mr. Zahn, I don’t have time to beat around the bush over this. Why did he veer to port?”

  Zahn looked unhappy. “I’m sorry, sir, but the Navigator’s Guild Agreement prevents me from answering that question.”

  McCray stared at the man in shock. Zahn had started his career as a navigator before switching to the command track. That’s why McCray asked him to interpret the data. What he never expected was a refusal to answer.

  He had always hated the NGA and the notion that navigators had a guild when no other Navy rating had one. Most people believed that what navigators did was little different from voodoo, but McCray little patience for the mystical mumbo-jumbo people ascribed to it. Worse, Navy regs prevented him from overruling an unexpected maneuver. Anytime a Navigator saw a navigational threat, he could change course, even against a captain’s orders.

  Though standard practice, McCray found it unreasonable that he must accept something he couldn’t demand an explanation for. He’d run into similar situations in the past, but never with such high stakes, and now felt like the Navy and even his own crew were blinding him from important tactical details in a life or death moment.

  “I want to discuss this in more detail later, Commander.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  One hour later, Lieutenant Warwick declared they were well out of detection range of the Qalawun and her RDs. Thirty minutes after that, they sailed past any chance of the battlecruiser intercepting them before they reached the hyper limit, though if they wanted to remain undetected, it would still take days to reach it. At this point, Springbok could accelerate more like normal without being spotted. Though, the Putnam Sound sensor operators, operating very close to Springbok, may have some interesting tales to tell.

  “Helm, back us away from Putnam Sound,” said McCray. “Make cycles for 22MHz and extension for four-thousand meters until we’re well clear of Putnam Sound.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “We’re out of danger, people. Secure from General Quarters. We don’t have to worry about the Qalawun any more, and we’re on our way to New Chicago. You have the Conn, XO. I’ll be in my quarters.”

  Aja indicated she would leave too, and she disappeared from the bridge a moment before his own view of the compartment melted away.

  ***

  Springbok sailed slowly through the darkness. Though her hull was dead black, that hardly prevented military sensors from detecting her. To better her chances of slipping away unseen by Qalawun, McCray ordered her paddles placed in standby. She wouldn’t leave the system very soon, but neither would she trigger an alert and pursuit. After three days, she finally approached the heliopause. During the intervening three days there was time for recreational activities.

  McCray’s stateroom was dimly lit. The holoseum displayed an animation of sputtering candles, and the smells of cedar and sex hung in the air.

  “Feeling better now?” Aja said with a smile.

  McCray glanced up. She looked terrific in a tee-shirt and nothing else. He sprawled in the rumpled sheets, letting the afterglow flow over him. “Yes, much. Sorry I’ve been cranky lately.”

  She shrugged. “I guessed you have reasons.”

  “I’m still running it over in my head. I can’t understand why Raj pulled that maneuver. I mean, he reacted to a perceived navigational threat, but I still don’t know what that threat was.”

  Aja gave him a look, clearly disappointed at the change in topic. “We need to work on your idea of pillow talk.”

  McCray slapped at the bed. “I know, sorry about that. I’m just flummoxed by his sudden shift.”

  “The one when Raj veered suddenly? Was it so bad?”

  “He said he saw a knot.”

  “Well then that makes sense, right? He’s supposed to avoid them.”

  “Yeah, but there wasn’t any knot.” McCray flipped away the sheets and put on shorts. “I checked his logs and found nothing to avoid. I even asked Zahn to check them, and he didn’t see any knots, either.”

  “So what’s the explanation?” Her brows knitted.

  “I didn’t get one. And wouldn’t you know, Zahn still agreed with Raj. He said Raj did the right thing but refused to explain why.”

  “That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “It isn’t. Worse, he pulled the Navigator’s Guild card on me. I still can’t believe that.”

  “Well, they can be pretty hard-core about their beliefs. They’re the ones who used to warn about the Strata Monsters.”

  “Strata Monsters,” he nearly spat the words. “A load of superstitious hooey. They say it isn’t myth, that they have proof, but they refuse to publish it. Worse, they convinced the Navy to go along. It’s frustrating. And since the Navigator’s Guild Agreement prevents naval officers from questioning a navigator who makes sudden and unexpected course changes, I’m not even allowed to ask why Raj put the entire ship at risk.”

  “I’ve heard of the Navigator’s Guild, but not the agreement. If the Navy signed on to it, then it must be important for a reason.”

  “There is, yes. Since the agreement was signed, ships lost in space to those mysterious, unexplained ‘perils of the strata,’ dropped by over ninety-two percent. Anymore, the Navy won’t accept anyone who isn’t in the guild—most merchants won’t either.

  “To be honest, I can live with the idea that my orders can be countermanded. Sometimes, a navigator only has seconds to react. There’s no time for a discussion about it. That’s fine. What really rubs me raw is that navigators know something vital to a ship’s safe navigation and they aren’t sharing what it is. It’s not space monsters, so what is it? As a ship’s captain it’s vital that I know what they’re seeing. It’s not just for me, but for the lives of the crew as well.”

  “Hang on,” Aja said. “Ando’s calling. I’ve told him you’re with me.” She smiled shyly and paused to listen. “There’s a courier drone heading our way and broadcasting a request for contact with me specifically. It’s probably IS-3 in Callas trying to make contact. They wouldn’t use this method if it wasn’t urgent.” Her soft features turned hard, dark eyes focused. “If we can open up a secure whisker laser, I can answer with my codes and receive the message.”

  “Of course. Tell Ando he should let your signal go out.”

  “Okay…done. I’m receiving the message. There’s some video attachments.” Her eyes glazed as she concentrated on the data being presented in her mind.

  After a while, which McCray filled by pacing the small confines of the stateroom wondering what was going on, she turned back to him at last. She looked pale and anxiously rubbed her fingers against her palm. “IS-3 is aski
ng us to come back.”

  “What? We’ve been ordered to New Chicago.”

  “All of McGowan is going berserk. Senator Mallouk is on board that battlecruiser and broadcasting damn near continuously.”

  “I knew it.”

  “He’s calling for all McGowan star systems, including Huralon, to secede from the ESE. Madkhalis and even a lot of Elysians are agreeing with him.”

  “Mind help us.” McCray sagged against the bulkhead. The realization hit him all at once. “That’s what the Xerxes were doing with that whole attack, trying to whip up sympathy for the Madkhali viewpoint. I can’t believe anyone still knows that old trick.”

  But Aja clearly wasn’t listening to him. “Experts are saying the secession vote might actually pass.” She stared at McCray, her expression bleak. “We may lose the entire star group.”

  Chapter 22

  The sun was beginning to set on the city of Jarustra when Esmerelda Jones stood before her parents, both huddled on the couch. “You don’t understand,” she scolded them. They looked shocked at the turn in her personality. Well, they would just have to deal with it. She’d learned a lot at University of Jarustra where information flowed freely. “I will no longer be part of an oppressive state. I am voting for secession.”

  “Honey,” said Arthur Jones with a pained expression. “Don’t you know about the Madkhalis? No one there lives very long. Their nation is desperately poor. If we secede, they’ll just annex us and then we’ll be as poor as Madkhalis.”

  “That’s racist, Dad. Do you hear yourself? You don’t know what they’ll do. Why do you think Madkhalis are so poor? It’s because Elysium keeps them that way—refusing to share tech and restricting their trade.”

  “Is that really all Elysium’s fault?”

  “Yes it is, Dad. Malik Tobruk explains it all in his book. He’s not made any secret of it. He plans to make the galaxy a fairer and more secure place for everyone.”

  “Tobruk? He’s a terrorist!”

  “He’s a freedom fighter. Look at the numbers. There are only five Madkhali owners of major companies in McGowan, out of hundreds. Is that fair? What does that tell you?”

  “Honey, if people don’t start companies they can’t be company owners…”

  “And why do you think they don’t start companies? Prejudice and discrimination, that’s why. It’s repression, Dad, pure and simple. You raised me to fight for those who can’t protect themselves. That’s what I’m doing.

  “Honey. Settle down. Think about this—”

  “A lot of the students are pissed about what’s been going on and they know the truth. Look at the mass killings, it’s obvious now that’s the start of genocide. They’re stepping up and stopping the killings by voting yes to secession, and I am too.”

  ***

  Saji tried to avoid the thug, but soon the older Madkhali had him cornered in a small grocery.

  “Don’t you want to talk to me, Saji?” said Hava. When he smiled his scarred face seemed even more menacing. He wore the armband of the greens, Madkhalis who claimed to keep the neighborhoods safe. What they really did was something sinister.

  “I didn’t know you were there, Hava. Sorry about that.”

  The fellow clapped a huge hand on Saji’s shoulder. The gesture would have appeared friendly to anyone watching, but the painful squeeze of his hand was nothing less than intimidation. “I almost feel like you’re avoiding me. You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

  “Of course not,” Saji tried hard not to wince. He didn’t want to give the brute the satisfaction. Hava had arrived at Huralon on the same boat as Saji, moved into the same neighborhood too, but little changed from their days in Madkhal. Hava still enforced the will of the Elites.

  “That’s good. Saji, a truck will arrive in the morning tomorrow. It will take everyone in the neighborhood to vote ‘Yes’ for secession. You are voting, yes, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t be silly, Hava.” Saji tried not to squeak. “I know my duty.”

  “Good, good.” The man’s pats on his shoulder felt like chains falling across it. “How is your sister?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “She’s becoming a woman now, I see. Like a fresh flower, ripe for the plucking.”

  Saji turned away to hide his murderous look. “She’s just a child, Hava. I beg of you.”

  “Make me proud, Saji, and I will protect her…” Hava sauntered away down the grocery aisle wearing a malicious grin. “...As long as I can.”

  ***

  Ashley stared out the window at the people filling the streets of Callas on Huralon. She didn’t know how many of them passed by, chanting anti-government slogans, but it looked like thousands. “Look at all these people, Luke,” she said.

  “Feck me. So many.”

  “I know, right? It’s like a huge party.” Ashley sighed. “Remember before the kids? We used to dance all night long.”

  “Yeah, that was fun. But this is a protest, Hon. Secede from Elysium? That’s crazy.”

  Ashley waved the thought away. “You worry too much. Think about all those Madkhalis moving here to Elysium. We aren’t doing enough to get them started, are we? It must be hard to start new in a new country. The secession vote, thing, is like a protest vote. It’s a way to make the government pay attention to the Madkhali situation.”

  Luke looked at her in surprise. “But what if it really happens and we do secede? We won’t have Elysium protection. Madkhal could annex us at any moment.”

  “Don’t be silly! It’ll never happen and annexing takes years to do.”

  “They would give us the choice? Are you sure?”

  “Of course. When was the last time anybody got annexed?”

  ***

  The virtual auditorium opened mere seconds after McCray called for an emergency meeting. He waited in silence in his seat, thinking hard, as the senior officers popped into existence within the virtual space. Aja paced back and forth across the dais, her brows knitted, not looking happy. What IS-3 wanted changed the plans they both dreamed of, and it clearly weighed heavy on her.

  When all finished appearing, Aja began. “I apologize for the abrupt call for this briefing. I promise you this was unexpected for me as well. Events in Huralon have taken a turn for the worst, and IS-3 is asking us to return.”

  Gasps and groans rose up the collected officers.

  “Belay that, people,” said McCray. He was angry at the turn of events too. Just when things looked better, his life turned for the worst once more. “Just listen.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” said Aja. She turned to the very large, cubical holostage, meters taller than her, and played views of protests in four different cities. In each of the four views the camera backed away from the scene to take in the thousands of people waving signs and shaking fists. “Since we left Huralon orbit, protests have erupted across all six settled planets of the star group. Just hours after the events at Braunfels and Arcoplex, protests grew from a few hundred at each to thousands. That’s extremely rapid growth for a simple grass-roots organization, but there’s a reason for that.

  “Majinn News has been extremely active, flooding the broadcasts with scenes of what they’re calling ‘The Braunfels Massacres.’ Their broadcasts are so sensational they’ve gone viral, and they’re drawing more viewers than even our own Schubert News. This is the most shocking one.”

  A holovid filled the stage, replacing the four separate views. Nine of Scirocco’s crew kneeled before Arcoplex’s stucco wall. Hastily shredded blindfolds covered their eyes. They leaned forward like cringing servants, hands tied behind their backs. Some whimpered, some resolutely prepared themselves to die.

  The man in the middle commanded the most attention. No blindfold obscured his features. He held his chin high in defiance. Springbok’s officers sat up, looking confused and dismayed when then saw him. They recognized the vile man immediately.

  The fiery eyes of Stephen Mallouk stared back at them.

 
“What?” said Ando. “How can he be there? He’s here, aboard ship!”

  “Yes he is,” said Aja. “But the people of Huralon don’t know that.”

  “Stephen Mallouk,” said the apparent marine commander, standing beside the line of ten armed marines. “You are accused of illegally passing into Elysium space and practicing the illegal religion of the Church of Madkhal.”

  “Bullshit,” said Warwick. “No religion is illegal here.”

  Aja paused the recording. “You’re right Lieutenant. We all know that. But all of you also know there have been planets within Elysium with instances of religious and voter suppression.”

  “Ha,” Warwick raised up a finger. “But, they were caught and stopped. The ESE doesn’t put up that kind of nonsense.”

  Aja stretched her shoulders and neck, as if preparing for battle. “Exactly. This is one of the great strengths of Elysium...and also one of our biggest weaknesses.”

  Warwick narrowed her eyes. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “I have traveled to all seven of the star nations,” Aja said. “And I can tell you, the peoples of the other nations tend to like Elysians, but many feel we can be naive and manipulable.”

  McCray and some of the other, older officers, simply nodded. A few of the younger ones bristled.

  “Excuse me,” said Ando, looking angry for once. “I think they’re confusing naive for enlightened. Just because we’re open-minded doesn’t mean we’re stupid.”

  “No one thinks we’re stupid, Mr. Ando,” said Aja. “It’s just that everyone knows we’re quick to stamp out oppression or bend over backwards to support the less fortunate. Sometimes, our knee-jerk reaction works against us when we’re manipulated by shrewd con men. That’s exactly what Majik Tobruk and the Madkhali MLF have been banking on. They’ve been organizing protests about religious oppression against Madkhalis for years now, even though there isn’t any. The ancient adage still rings true: ‘Tell a lie enough times and people will believe it’. What Tobruk is doing is triggering the Elysian hostility to oppressors, so they will join him, and also bringing Madkhalis to his defense via their nationalism. Now, let’s proceed.” Aja continued playing the holo recording.