Ignotus

by Kevin Hardman

  “That’s fine,” she said. “Just swing by whenever you’re done. I should be up.”

  “Thanks,” Maker muttered, then headed for the bridge.

  Chapter 63

  Bridge duty, in and of itself, turned out to be fairly uneventful – which was pretty much what any smart soldier wants. No emergencies, no crises, no exigencies. Just a couple of hours passing in routine and unremarkable fashion.

  Of course, this was what they had been told to expect by Skullcap. Per their insectoid guest, the area of space they were traversing was uninhabited and seldom visited, so there was no need to expect trouble. Not trusting the Vacran, Maker had made it a point to stay vigilant and told the captains of the two cruisers to do the same.

  Thankfully, nothing of note happened during Maker’s watch, and he used it as an opportunity to strengthen the connections he had to his team. His squad already had a pretty tight bond, but it never hurt to continue reinforcing it. With that in mind, he made it a point to engage with Loyola and Snick (who were on duty with him) throughout their time on the bridge.

  Eventually, Adames showed up to relieve him. Maker quickly relinquished command and departed. Upon exiting the bridge, he momentarily pondered whether he should go find Erlen. The Niotan had essentially been on his own since their earlier confab with Skullcap in Wayne’s workroom. Once they were done there, the Niotan had given the impression that he preferred to stroll around the ship rather than go back to their cabin.

  Typically, Maker didn’t like for Erlen to go wandering on his own. That said, he wasn’t likely to get lost on the Nova. In addition, the Niotan was fully capable of taking care of himself and knew how to stay out of trouble. (More to the point, he would seek out Maker if the latter were needed for anything.)

  Satisfied that Erlen was fine on his own, Maker headed to Chantrey’s cabin.

  ***

  She was seated at a small breakfast table when Maker let himself in, with papers strewn all about. However, they weren’t just on the table; there were also documents on the countertops, on the coffee table in the living room, and even stacked on the floor in a couple of places.

  “What’s all this?” he asked as he sauntered towards her, casually observing that many of the papers were comprised of handwritten notes.

  “Just some analyses I’ve been doing,” she replied, getting up from the table. “Something to let my puppet masters, as you put it, know that I’m not to be trifled with.”

  Maker frowned, puzzled. “Should I come back later?”

  “No, now’s as good a time as any,” she stated. She then looped her arm into his and guided him over to the loveseat in her living room. Pulling him down next to her as she sat, she asked, “So, Lieutenant, how can I help you?”

  “I need your expert opinion on something,” he replied. He then conveyed to her the information Diviana had learned about the Vacra while he and the others had been retrieving the tracker.

  “Basically,” he said in summary, “I’ve got a guy with the reputation of an angel, but in our past dealings with him, he’s been the devil.”

  “So you’re trying to figure out which Skullcap is the real one,” she concluded.

  “Not just Skullcap – the entire Vacran race,” he countered. “Up until now they’ve presented as one thing, but on this trip, Skullcap has come across as something else entirely. And on top of that, they’ve apparently got this reputation as a noble race. I’m just trying to get a handle on what I’m dealing with.”

  “I seem to recall us having a similar conversation before. Just as I said then, my area of expertise is human behavior. This is outside my wheelhouse. You’d do better talking to an entomologist.”

  “And as I said back then, you’re the closest thing I’ve got.”

  “Okay, I’ll give it a whirl,” Chantrey decided. “So we’ve got an individual who displays a different demeanor with two different sets of people: with humans he’s generally shady, but with other races he’s been morally upright. Truthfully, the dichotomy in his behavior is not particularly unusual.”

  Maker raised an eyebrow. “It’s not?”

  Chantrey shook her head. “No. Imagine a guy who thinks a certain girl is pretty. He wants her to like him, so he’s always on his best behavior around her. However, there’s another girl he thinks is ugly, and he spends his time teasing her and calling her names.”

  “I get it: he treats separate individuals in entirely different ways. So what – humans are the ugly ducklings of spacefaring races?”

  “I doubt it’s anything like that. But even if that were the case – and using our analogy – Skullcap’s not treating separate individuals differently. What he’s doing now would be construed as treating the same person differently.”

  “In other words, he’s now treating the ugly girl as if she’s a beauty queen. The question is why.”

  “Well, if we were talking about human beings, I’d surmise it was because something changed.”

  “So maybe the ugly girl actually is a beauty queen now. She got her teeth straightened, or her skin cleared up, or she lost weight…something to make her more appealing.”

  Chantrey gave him a piercing stare. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said that I hardly know where to begin. The misogyny? The objectification of women? The–”

  “How about we keep in mind that I was expanding on an analogy,” Maker interjected. “Can we work from that perspective rather than assume I was voicing my closeted feelings about women?”

  “Fine,” Chantrey replied a little tersely. “Skullcap’s altered demeanor suggests one of two things: either he’s changed personally, or he’s the same as he’s always been, but whatever motivated his prior behavior has shifted in some way.”

  Maker ruminated on this for a moment. “So you’re saying some outside factor caused him to be a treacherous liar in the past, but its influence has faded.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Hmmm,” Maker droned. “I’m more inclined to believe there’s an outside force at work now, which is why he’s behaved himself for the most part.”

  “Well, there’s a simple way to find out,” Chantrey said. Noting the blank look that Maker gave her, she added, “Just ask him.”

  Maker snorted derisively. “You speak as though he’ll just tell me the truth.”

  “Maybe he will.”

  “Even if he did, he has to know I’d never believe him,” Maker stated, then frowned as he remembered something. “That said, he has been trying to engage me in conversation since the moment he came on board.”

  “Maybe that’s the reason why – he’s trying to explain what’s different now.”

  “Ha!” Maker bellowed in disdain. “It’s more likely he’s just trying to get me to develop Lima Syndrome.”

  Chantrey’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Noting this, Maker began to clarify his statement.

  “Lima Syndrome,” he repeated. “It’s the reverse of Stockholm Syndrome, which is when hostages bond with their kidnappers. With Lima Syndrome, the kidnapper bonds–”

  “I know what Lima Syndrome is,” she interrupted. “Stockholm Syndrome, too. I’m just surprised to hear you mention them.”

  “Now I understand,” Maker groused. “You know what they mean, but you’re shocked that the big, oafish Marine also knows. Well, let me enlighten you: I’m a soldier, and as such there’s always a chance that I can be taken prisoner, or take custody of an enemy combatant. That being the case, those are concepts they taught us to be aware of, so forgive me for paying attention in class that day.”

  “Are you done?” Chantrey asked, crossing her arms and leaning back. Maker opened his mouth to speak, but she went on without giving him a chance to say anything. “Good. Now, just for the record, I want to make it clear that I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work.”

  “Oh?” he muttered. “What exactly am I doing?”

  “You’re trying to manufacture an argument and a rea
son to be indignant in hopes of making me forget what you said before about women.”

  “I was working within the confines of an analogy we constructed. It wasn’t an independent representation of my opinion.”

  “And then you incorporated your own standards of beauty that objectify women.”

  “That’s not true,” Maker insisted. “You’re beautiful, and I don’t objectify you.”

  Chantrey blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

  “I said that you’re beautiful, and–”

  “Yeah, I heard you,” she interjected, then studied him for a moment. “Pretty slick the way you shifted from indignation to flattery – a seamless transition that would probably beguile most women and make them forgive you.”

  Smiling, Maker slid closer and took her hand. “I guess the only question is, did it work?”

  She grinned back at him and said, “I’ll let you know in the morning.”

  Chapter 64

  In line with what Skullcap had indicated, they ran into no problems as they traversed the unknown region of space. In due course, the Nova entered the star system for which the insectoid had given them coordinates. It turned out to be an expansive solar system consisting of a single star and fourteen planetary bodies. At that juncture, Maker – who was on the bridge – had the Vacran brought in, along with the tracking device.

  “Well, we’re here,” he said to Skullcap. “What now?”

  The insectoid glanced at the tracker, appearing to study the glass tube surrounding the pyramid, which now glowed with a blue light. He then turned to the bridge monitor, which showed a panoramic view of the solar system before them.

  “The seventh planet,” Skullcap stated matter-of-factly. “The water world.”

  Maker nodded, then gave the order to head for the planet in question. Next, he informed the two cruisers of their destination. (Needless to say, all three ships went on high alert.)

  As Maker ended communication with the other ships in their convoy, Skullcap turned to him, saying, “It would be best if I could don my armor now.”

  “Oh really?” Maker quipped acerbically. “And why is that?”

  The insectoid seemed to ponder the question for a moment, then answered, “I will not present well otherwise. The Vacra we are meeting will interpret it as a bad sign.”

  “Bad omens have been par for the course on this mission,” Maker stated. “You and your people will simply have to deal with it.”

  Skullcap made an unusual chirping noise, which might have been indicative of disappointment, but otherwise didn’t argue the point further.

  “So what exactly is supposed to happen now?” Maker asked.

  “The signal from the tracking device should have been picked up by the Vacra on the planet we’re approaching. They will hail us when we are in range.”

  “Sounds good,” Maker said, “as long as we’re not talking about a hail of gunfire.”

  Chapter 65

  Nothing particularly noteworthy happened as they approached the seventh planet of the solar system. Nevertheless, as they drew near their destination, Maker found himself growing slightly apprehensive. It simply felt too much like the calm before the storm.

  The planet itself was just as Skullcap had described it: a world completely covered by water, with no visible land whatsoever. Per their insectoid guest, there was a Vacra ship here – presumably below the surface. However, some element in the water made it impossible to scan the depths for any type of vessel.

  “This is close enough,” Maker announced as they reached orbital height above the planet. “We’re not going down into the atmosphere.”

  “There is no need,” Skullcap assured him. “My people should be making contact relatively soon.”

  As if on cue, Diviana – who was manning the comm – declared, “We’re being hailed. It’s a Vacra frequency, originating from the planet surface.”

  “The surface?” Maker repeated.

  Diviana nodded. “Yes. Presumably they were beneath the waves before, but apparently they’ve broken cover.”

  “Can we locate them with the scanners?” he asked.

  “Already on it,” Diviana replied, then drew in a sharp breath. “Vacra vessel located – far side of the planet. It’s a warship.”

  Maker cast a sideways glance at Skullcap. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “They’re still hailing us,” Diviana remarked.

  “Put it through,” Maker ordered before turning to Skullcap. “All right, you’re up. And remember–”

  “I know,” the insectoid interrupted. “I will remember to stay ugly.”

  Maker frowned, trying to make sense of the comment – and then laughed as the insectoid’s meaning became clear.

  “Exactly,” Maker said, still chuckling. “Don’t try anything cute.”

  Skullcap looked as though he wanted to offer additional commentary, but before he could do so, the image on the monitor changed, showing a Vacran in battle armor.

  “Commander Vuqja!” exclaimed the insectoid on the screen. “We feared you dead.”

  Skullcap made a hissing sound that seemed to suggest disdain. “Death fled from me when I was a grub. Should she grow bolder now that I’m a warrior?”

  The insectoid on the screen made a sound that seemed to be comprised of a cackle inside a sneeze – presumably laughter. It then stated, “Your words ring true.”

  A moment later, without warning, the monitor went dark.

  Suddenly suspicious, Maker turned to Skullcap, angrily demanding, “What the hell are you up to? You didn’t say anything about the tech that we’re here for. In fact, you really didn’t say anything about anything.”

  “That was a code phrase,” Skullcap explained.

  “I gathered as much,” Maker shot back. “But what I don’t know is what it means to your Vacra buddies.”

  “It was an indication that all is well,” the insectoid explained. “That I am not being forced or coerced in any way. What else could it mean?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Maker muttered sarcastically. “Maybe, ‘Attack and take no prisoners,’ or something else along those lines.”

  “I see,” Skullcap intoned. “Obviously, I have done poorly in terms of explaining the safeguards we put into effect to secure the chattels you seek. All that we’ve had to do thus far – including retrieving the tracker, getting in within range of this planet, and exchanging code phrases – were buffers designed to hinder acquisition of your property by unauthorized individuals.”

  “Hold on,” Maker growled. “So all of these interim steps we’ve had to take along the way here were intentional? They were part of some kind of security protocol?”

  “Yes,” the Vacran acknowledged. “My apologies if that was not obvious. Also, I occasionally forget that the human approach to matters is often more meticulous in terms of details than the Vacra require.”

  Maker frowned, thinking that Skullcap’s statement seemed to square up with Browing’s earlier assessment.

  “So what now?” Maker asked.

  “The code phrase was an indication for my people to approach and rendezvous with us,” the Vacran said. “Once they are within range, I will join them and assume command. I will then authorize your people to board and–”

  “Stop,” Maker interjected, holding up a hand, palm out. “That’s not going to work. There’s no way I’m letting you get on a Vacra warship and simply rely on your word that you’ll let us board and scoop up our stuff. For all I know, the only reason they’re not blasting us to pieces is because you’re here, so I’m not in any hurry to let you waltz out the door.”

  “I’m not sure there are any other options,” Skullcap noted.

  “Sure there are,” Maker countered. “You can just order your people, from the very spot you’re standing, that we’re coming on board to get our property and will leave the moment we have it all.”

  “That is not possible,” the insectoid stated.

  “Really?” Ma
ker muttered, unconvinced. “Seems pretty straightforward to me.”

  “You don’t understand,” Skullcap said. “Under our conventions, I cannot give legal orders until I assume command, and I can only assume command in person.”

  Maker blinked, not quite believing what he was hearing. “So basically, if we don’t let you go board your warship, we don’t get our property.”

  “In essence, yes,” Skullcap replied.

  Chapter 66

  A short time later, Maker found himself on the Nova’s shuttle, headed for the Vacra warship. As Skullcap had predicted, his people had left the planet immediately upon receiving the code phrase, and soon thereafter were at orbital height near the Nova and the accompanying cruisers. Afterwards, it had only taken a quick communiqué to apprise those on the Vacra vessel that Skullcap would be en route shortly to assume command.

  It went without saying, of course, that Maker was disgusted by the current turn of events. The very thought of allowing Skullcap to board the Vacra warship was abhorrent to him, but it didn’t appear that they had many options – not if they wanted the sub rosa tech back. (Moreover, Skullcap had insisted that if he tried to give orders without assuming command, those on the warship would assume something was wrong, and he couldn’t fathom a guess as to what their reaction might be.)

  Ultimately, Maker had decided that Skullcap would be allowed to go to the Vacra warship, but he wouldn’t go alone. Thus, Maker had ended up accompanying him, along with Adames (who was piloting), Snick, and Planck.

  In a perfect world, Maker would have left Adames on the Nova so that there would be a seasoned soldier there capable of taking command if things went sideways. The NCO, however, had made a strong argument about the need to take the most competent people (i.e., combatants) to the Vacra warship – namely, himself and Snick. (In that regard, Loyola had again volunteered and adamantly argued that she be allowed to come along, but – as before – Maker had refused.)

  Planck was the lone anomaly among their group. He wasn’t a soldier or a fighter by any stretch of the imagination. However, he had knowledge in two key areas: he was intimately familiar with the sub rosa tech they were after, and he knew the Vacra better than anyone. In fact, it was Planck who had confirmed Skullcap’s assertion that the latter needed to be present in person in order to take command.