by Gregg Vann
“I hope you are all well,” Lews said. “Please, forgive our caution, but we’ve had our share of bad experiences with off-worlders in the past, and…well…I’m sure you understand. There is also the issue, technically speaking of course, that you are both part of the enemy force en route to attack our planet.”
“I understand your apprehension,” I replied, “as well as the need for caution. But time is an issue here, Speaker Lews, for all of us. Have you spoken with Brother Dyson?”
“I have. And I must say that he was extremely surprised to learn you were on Obas. I thought that man implacable until I saw his reaction to that bit of news.”
“And what did he say?”
“He asked me to assure you that he would keep his end of the bargain, whatever that means. He refused to explain it to me, or anything else for that matter. The Bodhi and their secrets…” Lews frowned and then shook his head. “I also told him that the Brenin fleet was coming here now, instead of Bodhi Prime. He seemed very relieved, although I can honestly say that I don’t enjoy the reason for his good fortune. Regardless, he confirmed everything you’ve told us, and recommended that we examine the information you’ve brought along with you.”
“I find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t at least take a look at it, no matter what Dyson said.”
“Well…” Lews admitted, “We have tried. It’s just that we can’t decipher this offwor…the Brenin language.”
“I can assist you with that,” I offered.
“Ahh…I’d so hoped you would. This,” he gestured to the man beside him, “is Ni Peq, our chief scientist for extra-planetary affairs, and a very competent physicist. He will be heading up the team we’ve assembled to analyze the data.”
I nodded at Peq and he inclined his head slightly.
“I’m not a scientist,” I admitted. “But I can tell you what it all says, so maybe you can find a way through their shielding. According to Seeris, their ship’s hulls are extremely tough, and our previous engagements with the Brenin bear that out. But despite this, we’ve still been able to destroy a few of their vessels in the past—those on the periphery of the fleet’s formation anyway. The shield has always stopped us from doing any real damage to their numbers, but if you can get past it, you can hurt them.”
“We will find a way,” Peq said confidently. “We have no choice.”
“Can I assume, then, that we are no longer prisoners?” I asked.
“Prisoners?” Lews said. “You were never prisoners, simply guests with restricted access.”
Restricted to one small room, I thought to myself.
“Master Pilot Boe,” Lews called out, bringing the Obas to attention. “I’d like you to stay with our guests for the duration of their visit and aid them as required.”
“Of course, sir.”
Lews turned to me and reached up with one hand, hesitantly placing it on my shoulder. The gesture was uncomfortable for us both, but the effort and his facial expression conveyed a message he couldn’t say out loud: I’m sorry I misjudged you.
“Tien, if you would please join Peq and his team at the research area we’ve set aside, we can get the work underway immediately.”
I nodded assent. “I’ll take Uli with me as well; I’m sure she can provide us with some valuable insights into the finer points of the Brenin language.”
“Whatever you think is best,” Lews replied.
I could tell that he was a charismatic leader, accustomed to using consensus and congeniality to guide his people, but the current crisis was weighing heavily on him and straining Lew’s good nature to its limits. He managed a smile nonetheless. “As I’m sure you can well imagine, I have other matters to attend to, but I’ll check in on your progress later.” The Speaker stepped aside and motioned for Boe, Uli and myself to leave with Peq. The scientist turned to depart and we followed him out the door.
As we started down the corridor, Peq spoke up. “Speaker Lews is unsurprisingly tolerant of you, off-worlder, it’s in his nature. He is part of a minority of our population that has a new vision for Obas. The Speaker’s party favors greater engagement with the galaxy at large, and I think that misguided goal taints his judgment. He has the dangerous notion that the Obas should take their rightful place in galactic society, and is always touting the benefits of mingling with off-worlders.” Peq gave me a disdainful look. “I don’t mind telling you that I completely disagree. If anything, I think our present circumstances argue for continued isolationism.”
“You can’t hide from the galaxy,” I replied. “That is the lesson the Brenin are bringing to Obas. If you’d left the planet and formed alliances with other races—colonized proximate worlds—you wouldn’t be in the danger you are right now.” I looked at his face and realized Peq didn’t understand just how serious a predicament the Obas were in; I decided to enlighten him.
“How many Obas are currently off-world?” I snapped.
The question caught the scientist off-guard and he grew defensive. “You know nothing about us, Udek. All of your assumptions are incorr—”
“How many?” I repeated forcefully.
Peq glared at me. “I’m not privy to that information, but certainly less than a hundred.”
“And if the Brenin annihilate this world? What will happen to the Obas then…as a race?”
“Even their fleet couldn’t kill all of us living on the planet,” he argued.
“For your sake, Peq, I hope you are right. But what if they could?”
“Then we would cease to exist as a people,” he admitted.
I slowed my pace to get his attention. “I’ve been on one of their ships, Peq. I have seen the technology they possess. Ask the Grenub or the Yilj what the Brenin can or cannot do—if you can find one of them still alive. Don’t let your hubris over what you’ve created here cloud your judgment. The Brenin will annihilate this planet if we can’t find a way to stop them. And the best chance of doing that is by deciphering the information I’ve brought on their shielding.”
He came to an abrupt halt and locked his gaze on me; the expression on his face told me Peq was weighing my words carefully—trying to decide whether or not to trust what I was telling him…whether he could trust me. And even if he couldn’t bring himself that far, could he ignore the possibility that I was telling the truth?
I watched as the struggle played itself out in his eyes, a lifetime of prejudice and fear fighting against the possibility of failure. Knowing that if he chose poorly, his entire race would pay the price for his decision.
In the end, he made the right choice.
“If that data is as important as you say it is, then we’d better get to work.”
We started walking again, albeit much faster this time.
I took a measured glance around as we stepped into the room set up to study the stolen Brenin intelligence. Constant, situational awareness was a hallmark of Special Corp training—becoming an ingrained habit over time. And it was one habit I hoped to never break.
Upon entering any space, regardless of size, I methodically evaluated the people and environment—considering the value, danger, and implications of everything extant. My eyes automatically scanned the room for weapons or hidden dangers, and then generated an overall threat assessment. I also noted each entrance and exit, and identified potential enemies or allies. Quite simply, I looked for anything that could harm or help me.
This room was decidedly benign.
Two large walls were covered floor to ceiling with display monitors, each highlighting a different file from the records I’d taken from the Brenin. Several Obas were moving from screen to screen, conferring with one another and making notes on ubiquitous dataslates. I assumed that most were scientists, but a few seemed to be more purpose-driven, issuing orders to the others and admonishing them when they became distracted by minutiae. Obas intelligence specialists, I guessed. I noted with some interest that there were no soldiers present, and other than the people milling around i
n every direction, the room was completely empty, except for a low table with a few chairs spaced around it. Everyone turned to look at us as we entered the room, a few nodding at Boe in recognition.
“This is Kiro Tien,” Peq announced. “An Udek operative disguised in a Brenin body. You have all seen the preliminary reports about his situation already.” Many in the group nodded in confirmation as Peq gestured past me. “And this is Doctor Uli…an actual Brenin.”
The assembled scientists made no pretense of social propriety whatsoever—either it was a trait the Obas didn’t possess, or they were so overcome by their proximity to actual aliens that they forgot themselves. Whatever the circumstances, they stared at us unapologetically; pointing out the various anatomical features they’d never seen before. The talk grew even louder as they began to openly speculate about the uses and capabilities of the unique Brenin physiology. Peq took appreciable delight in disrupting the collective conjecture.
“Enough!” he snapped. “Doctor Ko, what progress have we made so far.”
The room silenced and a very thin Obas stepped forward. There was hesitation in his gait, and even though he didn’t appear that different from the others, something told me he was aged.
“We’ve been able to decipher the Brenin numerical system, and using that, decoded the timestamps on each document. The information on the left wall is more recent, within the last few weeks we believe. The other wall displays much older files.”
“Numbers?” Peq said, condescendingly. “That’s your progress? Numbers?”
“Actually,” I interjected, “I think he might be on to something, at least as far as categorizing the information goes.” The scientists parted to let me through, and I moved up closer to the walls to get a better look. “I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to access the system, so I set up the search to find the shield specifications first—that would be the older files on the right. The other bonus files were based on a broad, secondary search I implemented—looking for the current military plans of the Brenin fleet.”
“You can read them for us?” Ko asked excitedly.
“Yes. Well…as I told Peq, I can tell you what it all says, but I wouldn’t understand any of it—certainly not the scientific underpinnings of the shield technology. It might be faster if I helped you develop a translation matrix, so your entire team could read the documentation for themselves.”
“I agree,” Peq said. “Everyone get to work on the translation program first. With all of you collaborating together it shouldn’t take that long.”
As the scientists set about their work, conferring excitedly about how best to build the program, Ko walked over to join us. The Obas started to hand me a dataslate and then hesitated. “Can you read Standard as well?” he asked.
“Of course,” I replied. “I am Udek after all.”
“Sorry…I’m sorry. It’s just that the Bodhi…well, it’s so hard for me to believe. I mean…I used to think you Udek were strange, but this body.”
“We don’t have time for this, doctor,” I said.
“No we don’t,” Peq agreed.
“Gah! Let’s get this over with,” Uli barked, stepping forward assertively to face me. “You may be able to read Bren, Udek, but I doubt you know enough about the proper syntax or subtleties of the language to do this correctly. And I guarantee that much, if not all of the science will confound you…all of you.” No one escaped the look of disgust she flashed across the room. “But I’ll help these cretins get it done, so we can leave this planet and end this interminable nightmare. Seeris, you should assist as well to speed things along.”
Yes, Seeris, you’ve been quiet for a while now. Ready to be useful for a change?
But there was no response and the silence stretched on.
“Seeris?” Uli repeated, and then pulled out her scanner to check the settings. “Everything’s working,” she said. “We should be able to hear him. I don’t understand.”
“He hasn’t spoken for some time,” I told her.
“Step aside,” she yelled at Ko. The old Obas backed up so quickly that he almost fell down as she flew by. Uli stopped at arm’s length away from me and passed the scanner across the front of my body. She checked the results, and then adjusted the instrument—walking around me in a slow circle and scanning my head.
“We need to go to Bodhi Prime,” she snapped. “Now! Seeris is dying. Those damned monks have no idea what they’ve done to his brain. The way they attached those couplings…it’s degrade—”
“We are not going anywhere,” I interrupted. “Until this information is translated and something useful is found.”
“That is correct,” Peq added. As if on cue, the door opened and two, armored guards stepped into the room, brandishing large weapons to emphasize their presence.
Sub-dermal vocalizer? I wondered. Or are they simply monitoring everything from outside?
“Barbarians,” Uli spat. “If my brother dies, I’ll make sure you all follow closely behind; if you somehow manage to survive the next few days.”
“Then help us get this done,” I responded sharply. “Believe me; I want out of this body just as badly as you want me out of it.”
I’d already discovered that Brenin faces could be very expressive, and right now, her’s was projecting unfathomable amounts of rage and hatred—an unbridled loathing that typically led to violence. But what could Uli really do? She was alone and trapped; she had no choice but to help us. The alternative was to watch her brother die slowly, synapse by synapse.
“Give me that pad,” she barked, snatching the dataslate away from Ko. “I will work with these Obas to create the translation matrix, Udek. Why don’t you start reading the military plans so these fools can attempt to defend themselves?” She pulled on my arm hard and leaned in toward me, placing our faces mere inches apart. “But once they have the information we leave for Bodhi Prime, agreed? No further delays.”
“Agreed,” I lied.
It was an arrangement I had absolutely no intention of keeping. We would leave after the battle for Obas…or not at all if we failed. Uli released me and walked away, with a very unnerved Doctor Ko trailing behind her.
“How do I control the screens?” I asked Peq.
“They are all touch capable, but you’ll need a dataslate to access the higher ones.”
I took up a position in front of the left wall and began searching through the files, my eyes darting from folder to folder looking for anything useful. Boe and Peq stood beside me staring at the wall of information as well, although I knew neither one of them could make out a single word of the Brenin text.
“Well?” Peq said impatiently.
“Give me a moment,” I snapped.
There was so much information to pore through. Hundreds of status updates, material requisitions, personnel transfer orders, maintenance requests… But also…yes… There it was. I walked over to one of the screens mounted low in the far corner and tapped on it, magnifying the information displayed there. Yes, that’s what I was looking for. I didn’t understand everything I saw, but I got the gist of it. And that was enough to cause nightmares.
“Summon Speaker Lews,” I said to Peq, not bothering to turn around. I continued reading the screen, attempting to glean as much information from it as I possibly could.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I think I’ve found out how the Brenin intend to kill you,” I replied.
“All of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Poisoned missiles?” Speaker Lews repeated. “But that doesn’t make any sense. If they taint the water, we can simply place filters on our intake pipes and stop it before it reaches the supply lines. And if they poison the atmosphere, we’ll just move everyone undersea. The influx from the surface would be inconvenient, I’ll grant you that, but there are remedies for both those possibilities. Do the Brenin seriously believe that they can wipe us out with these toxin-infused warheads?”
“I
don’t know,” I admitted. “But I do know that the Brenin aren’t stupid, they must have thought this all out…including the defensive actions you’ve just described. According to this document, the plan has been in development for quite some time.”
And then something jogged my memory; a recollection from my time on-board the Brenin ship—when Uli had been ordered to test the poison on Boe. Something she’d said…
“Uli,” I yelled across the room, earning a reproving look from her. “Didn’t you tell me that your people developed the poison to affect a specific type of flora, one native to Obas? I believe you said the agent was designed to pass through the indigenous plant, triggering a mutation into an airborne pathogen.”
“I did,” she replied distractedly. “It was designed to make the flora release a deadly poison into the air, before culminating in the death of the plant itself. But they didn’t tell me what plant, or even how it fit in with the planet’s ecology.”
“The brill,” Speaker Lews breathed. He said it quietly, but every Obas in the room heard him, and they all reacted with same shocked realization.
“What are the brill?” I asked out loud.
Uli ignored us and went back to her work, using curt gestures to bring the majority of the distracted scientists back to the table. They’d all been situated around it working on the translation protocols when I’d interrupted them.
Boe spoke up first. “You saw the red plants covering the mountainside as we entered the hangar?”
“I did.”
“That is the brill. It covers most of the undersea mountains—all of those with natural caverns inside. The plants filter oxygen from the water and push it through the semi-porous rock face—forcing air into the caverns beyond and creating a breathable atmosphere inside the mountains.”
“So they intend to poison the brill,” I stated. “That’s bad, but still not an extinction-level event. Can’t you just abandon the caverns and send your populace into the cities?”