Expendable

by James Alan Gardner

  “You remembered you were once an Explorer,” I said. “That you once looked like me and were marooned here too. So you came to rescue me?”

  “I don’t know what I came to do,” she answered. “I came…I came to see. The city. I didn’t know anyone was here. Our sensors picked up the starship launch; I thought everyone would be gone.” She paused. “The High Council would have a collective attack of apoplexy if they knew I was here.”

  “And you wouldn’t dare risk their displeasure,” I said, “or they’d send you back here. Like they sent Chee. Did you know about that?”

  “I heard what happened to Chee after the fact. Exiling you here with Chee…possibly the council thought that would send me a message.”

  “That’s all we were? A message for you?”

  She shook her head. “Chee was always a thorn in their side. That spy network of his—rubbing their nose in the incompetence of the bureaucracy. The smart councillors knew they needed him, but the ones who just liked wielding power…. Some people hate interference, even when it saves their asses. Eventually, they caught Chee with his guard down, and away he went.”

  “Away he went,” I repeated. “I watched him die.”

  Admiral Seele bowed her head.

  Understanding

  After a while, Seele murmured, “We should get out of here.”

  “Don’t hurry,” I told her.

  “Festina,” she said, “ever since Chee and I escaped, the High Council has stationed two picket ships in this system, to make sure no one leaves again. Do you think this is the first time I’ve tried to land on Melaquin? I’m an admiral; I have a ship at my disposal. Every now and then, I try to come, but the pickets always turn me away. When I received your egg collection, I came once more, wondering if this would be the time I’d defy the pickets. I lurked in this system’s Oort cloud for more than a day, trying to make up my mind. Then, suddenly, you Explorers launched a ship; a ship with Sperm capability.” She smiled. “That sure as hell caught the pickets napping. The two of them bolted after the Explorer ship and must be in deep space by now.”

  Seele grabbed me by the arm. “I saw my chance and I took it, Festina. The first time in forty years I’ve been able to land on Melaquin. I came to see my old city. I came to see some glass friends…” She shook her head. “Never mind. I’ve found you instead. Our sensors picked you up while your plane was flying. And now you have a chance to escape! The others won’t succeed—the pickets will snare them with tractor beams and drag them back to this planet. But while the pickets are gone, you and I can get clear. Let’s go, Festina. This chance may never come again.”

  “So I should save myself and leave the others in the lurch? That’s what you and Chee did all those years ago.”

  Seele looked stricken. “We don’t have time to discuss this….”

  “I have all the time in the world,” I told her. “The way I see it, you found a working spaceship in the city below….”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And you took off without worrying about other Explorers banished on the planet….”

  “It was a small ship, and we had no way to locate the other—”

  “Then,” I kept going, “you got back to Technocracy space and cut a deal with the High Council to save your hides. You’d keep your mouths shut, and in exchange, the council would make you admirals. Isn’t that it? So you and Chee got cushy positions while other Explorers kept disappearing.”

  “Festina, you have to understand—”

  “No, Admiral,” I interrupted, “you’ve picked the wrong day for me to be understanding.” I turned away from her in disgust. “And you’ve picked the wrong woman to save,” I shouted over my shoulder as I stomped back to the eagle. “Just because I remind you of your damaged young self—”

  “Festina,” Seele said.

  Something in her tone made me turn around. She was aiming a stunner at me.

  “I’m like a magnet for those guns,” I told her.

  Then she shot me.

  My New Quarters

  I woke up in bed. The bed was in a standard officer’s cabin on board a starship. My head throbbed with all the leaden pain that comes from a stun-blast. In a way, that was a blessing—I couldn’t focus my mind on other ugly thoughts that threatened to devil my conscience.

  Much as I wanted just to lie there, wincing each time my pulse bludgeoned my frontal lobes, I faced a physical imperative—after hours of unconsciousness, I urgently needed to empty my bladder. Groaning, I made myself vertical and sat on the edge of the bed until purple things stopped exploding behind my eyes. Then I staggered to the toilet, did my business, and continued to sit on the seat, staring dully at the wall.

  My head throbbed. I counted sixty blunt pulses of pain, then stumbled back toward the bed. As I passed the desk, I noticed a plain white pill sitting on top of a card that read, THIS MIGHT HELP. I swallowed the pill immediately, on the theory it couldn’t possibly make things worse.

  In a few minutes, the pain did ease a little: enough to let me take stock of my surroundings. Yes, I was in officer’s quarters, almost exactly like my cabin on the Jacaranda but a mirror image—on the port side instead of starboard. The room had no decorations, but standing near the door were three packing crates, lined against the bulkhead. I opened the lid of the closest one and saw many small objects wrapped in wads of cotton.

  My eggs.

  My eggs.

  Tears came to my eyes. I was too scared to touch a single egg; I just looked at the cotton-wrapped bundles, counting them over and over again…only the ones I could see at the top of the open box.

  My eggs.

  “This is stupid,” I said aloud. “I lost Yarrun and Chee and Oar, and I’m overjoyed over some eggs?”

  But I was. I had not quite lost everything. Not quite.

  The Stars

  The door chittered and Admiral Seele walked in. Doors open for admirals, even if you don’t give permission to enter.

  “You’re awake,” she said. “Sorry for being abrupt, but we were wasting time.”

  “So you shot me. Just what I’d expect from an admiral.”

  “No,” she replied. “A true admiral would have ordered someone else to shoot you. I’m still an Explorer at heart.”

  I had to smile in spite of myself. Then a sobering thought hit me. “You don’t really intend to take me back to the Technocracy?”

  “If you prefer,” Seele said, “I can drop you off at a Fringe World. Admirals can order course changes on a whim.”

  “You can’t drop me anywhere but Melaquin. The League will kill me if I try to enter interstellar space. I’m a murderer.”

  She lifted her eyebrows.

  “I am,” I insisted. “I killed my partner. And I would have killed Jelca if Oar hadn’t beat me to it.”

  “Festina, I can’t believe—”

  “Believe it,” I snapped. “I’m a dangerous non-sentient. And now that I’ve told you, your life is on the line too. If you let this ship leave the Melaquin system, we’ll both be snuffed out.”

  “Then we’d better go to the bridge,” Seele said quietly.

  She led me out the door and down the hall, up a companionway and through the hatch leading to the bridge corridor. There, we passed a man wearing Social Science green and he saluted…first the admiral, then me, although I only wore the skirt and top built from my tightsuit. He must have thought I was a civilian, and civilians on Fleet vessels were almost always dignitaries of some kind.

  “Admiral on the bridge!” someone barked as we entered the bridge proper. A few people snapped to attention; most remained at their posts. Protocol is one thing, but duty is something else—even vacuum personnel knew that.

  “Captain Ling,” Seele said to the man occupying the captain’s chair, “could you please activate the view screens?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He twirled a dial and the main screen brightened to reveal a starscape. It was no different from any other starscape you might
see. That’s why view screens are almost always turned off, except to impress visitors. No FTL ship navigates by sight. Running with the screen active would simply distract the crew from watching more important things: the gauges and readouts that gave solid information instead of useless scenery.

  “Now, Explorer Ramos,” Seele pointed to the screen, “what do you see?”

  “Stars,” I answered.

  “Captain Ling,” Seele said, “what is our current distance from Melaquin?”

  Ling gestured toward the navigator. The navigator said, “9.27 light-years, ma’am.”

  “Are we in interstellar space?”

  The navigator’s eyes widened slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Out of any star’s local gravity well?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thank you,” Seele said. “As you were.”

  She turned and stepped back into the corridor. A moment later, she took me by the dumbstruck arm and pulled me after her.

  “You see?” Seele said in a gentle voice. “Whatever you did, you aren’t non-sentient. The League is never wrong about these things. We’re alive and we’ve reached interstellar space; therefore, Festina, you are not a murderer.” She gave the ghost of a smile. “It’s almost as if God has personally declared you innocent.”

  The Admiral’s Story

  Back in the cabin, I told Seele everything. This time was different from when I confessed to Jelca. Then, I was trying to connect with him, partly to reach his sanity and partly to reach mine. Now, I was trying to connect the facts: to see the chains of cause and effect, to understand why the League had incomprehensibly given me a reprieve.

  Seele said nothing as I talked—no attempt to make me admit that Yarrun’s death was an accident, no easy comments on what I should or shouldn’t have done. She simply listened and let me tell the story. When I was finished, she asked, “What do you want to do now?”

  “Apart from pushing the High Council out an airlock?”

  She didn’t smile. “Is that what you need to do, Festina?”

  “Someone should.” I gave her a look. “Why didn’t you?”

  “You think Chee and I could actually sway the council?” She shook her head. “We gave it a shot: all the silly things you see in entertainment bubbles. Letters marked TO BE DELIVERED TO THE PRESS IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO US. Sworn affidavits, with accompanying lie-detector certificates. A plan for confronting the council in public forum…naïve nonsense. At worst, we could have made ourselves an inconvenience—forced the council to sacrifice a scapegoat low down the chain of command. But before we could do even that, we were outmaneuvered. We’d taken too long to set things up. The council was ready for us.”

  “What happened?”

  “We were shown trumped-up documents proving we were mentally unstable…histories of our inventing complaints to get back at superiors who were only doing their jobs. The frameup was quite thorough. Maybe we could defeat it in court, if we had enough resources to expose the lies; but we didn’t.” She spread her hands wide, then let them fall. “What could we do? And the alternative they offered looked better than getting locked up as liars or paranoids.”

  “The alternative was becoming one of them!” I protested. “How could you stomach that?”

  “I may have become an admiral,” Seele said, “but I was never one of them. That’s an important distinction. The Outward Fleet has many admirals: seven different ranks of them. Only the top rank sits on the High Council. Most other admirals do reasonably honest work—pushing papers, organizing this project or that, keeping the wheels turning. The council are the ones who make policy. Chee and I weren’t even traditional admirals. We were officers without portfolio, so to speak. Or perhaps, officers without politics—without obligations to people who had paid us favors and without the ambition to seize more power. The shrewd half of the council realized they needed people like us to be troubleshooters and muckrakers…just as they needed Explorers for the same work. They need people to do the job, Festina. To stand apart from the mentality that says, ‘It’s someone else’s problem,’ and to do the thing that needs doing.

  “Chee set up his spy network to keep an eye on planetary bureaucracies,” Seele went on. “I did the same within the Admiralty itself. We did good work, Festina. We saved lives that would have been lost through greed and negligence. I’m proud of what I’ve done, even if I had to put on an admiral’s uniform to do it.”

  “But you still let them send Explorers to Melaquin,” I said.

  “How could I stop it?” she asked. “The High Council likes using Melaquin to solve their problems. It’s convenient. And the League of Peoples doesn’t object. That’s what makes the council happiest; the League doesn’t give a damn. If the League ever intervened—if there was even a suggestion the League might intervene—the council would cower and back off. They’re terrified of being labeled a non-sentient governing body.

  “Like the Greenstriders,” I said.

  “Precisely. But for forty years, I’ve tried to think of a way to involve the League in Melaquin, and haven’t made a millimeter of headway. Sending humans to an Earthlike world doesn’t put them in lethal danger…not when you compare Melaquin to almost every other planet in the galaxy.”

  “No…” I said slowly.

  “I promise you,” Seele went on, “I’ve tried to rescue Explorers from time to time, but I’ve always been stopped by the picket ships. You’re the first person I’ve got out, and that was only because the ship with the other Explorers distracted the sentries. I’ve tried to help as much as I could. Most of the time, I hear advance rumors about missions to Melaquin, and I tip off the Explorers involved. Unfortunately, the council moved on Chee while I was distracted with other business. I only found out when I received your eggs….”

  Her voice trailed off, but I was only half paying attention. “Admiral,” I said, “I know what I want to do with my future.”

  “What?”

  “First, we head for the High Council chambers on New Earth….”

  The Chamber of the High Council

  Guards saluted crisply as we marched into Admiralty headquarters—saluted Admiral Seele, of course, not me. I wore nondescript black coveralls, without insignia. It was one of the five recognized uniforms for Explorers, but it was also the sort of drab attire any civilian worker might wear. Since I had no apparent blemishes or flaws, the guards likely took me for nothing more than a repair-worker.

  Gaining admittance to the High Council chamber took more work: mostly bluster on Seele’s part. She repeated the word “urgent” to more than a dozen obstructionist deputies before we were grudgingly passed through. Anyone else might never have bullied the gatekeepers into surrender; but as semiofficial troublespotter for the Outward Fleet, Seele could demand immediate attention in a crisis. When the last bureaucrat buckled under to Seele’s insistence, we only had to wait in the council’s anteroom for five minutes: just long enough to be scanned for hidden weapons and for Seele’s identity to be verified.

  They can’t have bothered to identify me. If they had, they might not have blithely admitted an Explorer who was supposed to be on Melaquin.

  The doors in front of us opened. Admiral Seele strode forward, with me matching step two paces behind.

  The president of the council, Admiral Vincence, smiled politely as Seele reached the foot of the Round Table. He did not invite her to take a chair. “Admiral Seele,” Vincence said, “you have an urgent need to address us?”

  “There is a pressing matter for the council to consider,” Seele replied. “But I will not be the one to address you.” She gestured for me to come forward. “Proceed, Explorer.”

  Several admirals whispered at the word “Explorer.” Apart from Chee and Seele, I may have been the only Explorer who’d ever entered the chamber. I saluted with perfect crispness. “Admirals,” I said, “my name is Explorer First Class Festina Ramos, and I bring important news from Melaquin.”

  The whispers
swelled into hostile murmurs. I kept my eyes aimed straight ahead, on Vincence. He stared back, unruffled; when the mumbling receded he said, “I’ve heard of you, Ramos. Were you not assigned to explore Melaquin under the command of Admiral Chee?”

  “Yes, sir.” For a moment, I was surprised he had bothered to learn which Explorers were sent with Chee. Then I remembered I had probably been handpicked for the Landing because Admiral Seele had shown interest in me.

  “I suppose,” Vincence said, “that this pressing matter concerns Admiral Chee? Or is it the Explorers who recently attempted to leave Melaquin? You must be aware that they failed. Their ship has been confiscated and they themselves returned to the planet’s surface. Do you and Admiral Seele think you can blackmail this council into changing that?”

  “No, sir,” I replied.

  “Then what do you wish to tell us?” He spoke with an air of languid condescension.

  “I wish to inform the council that it transported a dangerous non-sentient creature to Melaquin.”

  The sharp intakes of breath around the table were the most satisfying sounds I have ever heard in my life.

  “The creature was Explorer First Class Laminir Jelca,” I went on. “To my certain knowledge, he murdered two sentient beings on Melaquin, and attempted genocide on an entire sentient species. Jelca could only have traveled to Melaquin under the express orders of this council. Therefore, the council must be held responsible.”

  “How do we know this is true?” a nearby admiral asked.

  “Because I say it’s true,” Seele answered from my side. “Have I ever lied to the council? And do you think I’d lie about something as serious as this? Jelca nearly destroyed Melaquin’s entire biosphere.”

  “But that has nothing to do with us!” blurted a man on my right. “He couldn’t have been a murderer at the time we sent him.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “In fact, it was the action of this council that drove Jelca to non-sentience. His rage at being marooned turned him into a killer.”

  Admiral Vincence wasn’t looking nearly as languid now.

  “Furthermore,” I continued, “I must inform this council that the introduction of Explorers to Melaquin has severely disrupted the native society. There have been incidents of rape, property destruction, and ruinous cultural pollution. Even if such acts are not explicit violations of League statutes, they demonstrate a pattern of jeopardy this council cannot ignore.”