Valence (Confluence Book 4)

by Jennifer Foehner Wells

  Ron leaned forward. He spoke to Pio carefully and deliberately. “You were communicating with them, very closely. It’s my understanding from talking with Jane and Brai that it would be difficult for them to deceive you. Is that correct? Do they all seem sincere? Do any of them harbor ill will toward us? I guess what I’m asking is for your gut reaction: Do we have any Kai’Memnas in the making among them?”

  “Yes, it would be difficult to deceive me. I spoke to them both as a group and individually, so that I could monitor their reactions closely. I do not believe we are at risk for another attack from these kuboderans. The strange truth is that Kai’Memna was an aberration. Most of us were happy in our lives before, did not see what we were missing until he forced us to see it. Kai’Memna demanded a terrible choice from us. Most of us chose to live, all the while wishing it were not necessary to do his bidding in order to avoid meeting dusk. We went from slavery of one kind to another. The general feeling seemed to be relief that it is over, gratitude that real choices are being offered now.”

  Ron rubbed his stubbled chin. “That makes a lot of sense. But if all of that is true, why wasn’t there an internal uprising? Why was it up to us to get rid of Kai’Memna?”

  Pio didn’t answer for a long moment. “I can only speak for myself. It felt… impossible. He seemed so strong. And we saw—he made certain we witnessed—him killing our defenseless brothers and sisters. I felt hopeless and complicit.” She went quiet.

  They were all silent.

  “I didn’t feel hope until I spoke to Jane, until I watched her fight him, heard Brai speak of her care and compassion and say that she was human and different. I couldn’t stand by and watch Kai’Memna destroy her. That was when I acted. Perhaps that sort of encounter was all any of us would need to conquer our fear.”

  Pio continued, “I think, perhaps, that was why it was so easy to defeat him, even with thirteen ships to back him up. They all knew we’d come very close to defeating him before. I had said no to him and survived. We’d slain his best lieutenant, who was instrumental in keeping the rest in line. They said he’d become unstable after that. Reckless. Consumed with revenge. The idea that he could be beaten had already been planted. Their greatest fear was that they would meet dusk with him when his time would come.”

  That was all Pio had to say. After that Ron set up shifts so that two crew members were always on the bridge, ready to raise the alarm. Alan got the first shift off, but he knew he couldn’t sleep right away, so he headed down to Tech Deck to work for a while. He hoped that if nothing happened for a few hours, he might be able to catch some sleep before his shift came up.

  As he walked, Pio gave him that little shiver in the back of his brain that was her warning that she was about to contact him. “Alan? Do you have a moment?”

  “Sure.”

  “There’s something I’d like to tell you, but I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the others.”

  He stopped in his tracks. “What? Did you find a calculation error that we didn’t catch in the simulations?”

  “Oh, no. Nothing like that. Quite the opposite.”

  He sniffed hard and resumed walking. “Okay. Then what is it?”

  “I thought you should know that your inventions were the primary reason why those who decided to stay chose that course of action. You. Your inventions helped them make that decision.”

  He halted again. “Me?”

  “If a kuboderan needed any proof that humans were different from sectilians, you gave that to them to an infinite degree. You gave them hope.”

  He shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. Ron offered them freedom.”

  “But how could they blindly trust that after what they’d been through? Kai’Memna offered them freedom as well.”

  “I still don’t understand. You’re going to have to explain.”

  “You create things out of ideas. Very quickly. Most of the time that the kuboderans and I spent talking, the topics were related to these projects you took on—the anti-anipraxic devices, the blink drive, the gravitational sling. Of course I didn’t delineate how any of them actually work. They were more curious about the process you underwent. How you took the things from idea to finished object.”

  “But sectilians invent things.”

  “They do. Over decades, centuries. They are slow to act. Rigorous in debate of theory, slow to reach experimentation which is extensive in the extreme. They would never have thought to use an untested blink drive in battle. They would have died first. That gamble proved to them that humans are different.”

  “Huh.”

  “Over these many months since I met all of you, I have often contemplated what the yoke was for. To my knowledge there were no historic examples of kuboderan officers wreaking havoc on sectilian ships. I have come to the conclusion that the yoke was there to prevent the chaos we might have created. We were never given the opportunity to prove ourselves. We were too much of an unknown factor, so they did all they could to mitigate what was seen as a potential liability. Stories coming from outside sectilian space about kuboderans who had rebelled only reinforced this notion. They clamped down harder on us, took a little more of what we were. Are.”

  Alan rubbed his neck. “And that led to the birth of Kai’Memna.”

  “But humans are different. I’ve seen that firsthand. These kuboderans wanted more than just my thoughts and memories. I was able to show them a great deal. Even Lira, which astounded them. But you were the reason the four joined us. The reason seven more may yet join us. I thought you should know this.”

  Alan got to the deck transport, and his fingers hovered over the symbols. They came to rest on the Crew Deck after all. He was going to retire to his quarters to do nothing but think for a while.

  40

  JANE HAD BEEN on edge for days, waiting for word from Darcy. As time went on, the fear congealed in her stomach and she could barely eat or sleep, worried that something had gone horribly wrong and that both the Oblignatus and the Vermachten had been so badly damaged in an encounter with Kai’Memna that they were beyond repair. And that maybe the people she cared for so much were too.

  All she wanted to do was flip the bird at the Decatribunal, at all of Terac, and fly to Pliga That Was. Instead she was getting ready for a party.

  Jane and her multispecies crew were about to celebrate the completion and subsequent broadcast of the first six episodes of Jane’s video series about Earth by tasting delicacies sent from Terac by drone, many of them gifts from other cultures that were actively courting Jane, clearly hoping to curry favor with Earth.

  It was Feig’s idea. She thought it would take Jane’s and Ajaya’s minds off of what was happening at Pliga That Was. Jane didn’t think it would help, but she humored Feig and was doing her best to pretend it was working.

  Jane wished Alan could be there so she could watch his reaction to the strange new foods. He always had some quip or dry, crotchety comment that made her struggle not to giggle. She loved that. She missed him terribly.

  Feig placed twelve bowls of food in a line down the center of the table.

  Pledor leaned forward, peering into the nearest bowl and sniffing suspiciously. “What’s this?”

  “It’s called glil,” Feig answered as she picked up the bowl of the small, bright-red, heart-shaped fruit and handed it to him. “It’s from Sebapen.”

  Next to Pledor, Murrrsi grabbed one and popped the morsel in her mouth. She made a delighted expression.

  “What does it taste like?” Pledor asked. He scrutinized the fruit minutely. Pledor had clearly become more than friendly with the pelimarians. He spent a lot of time with them and had begun to be included in their more intimate caresses before they retired from ship society, which Jane gathered was customary whenever pelimarians were in a multispecies situation, out of respect for other cultures.

  Pledor’s inclusion made her uncomfortable, and she really wasn’t sure why. Why should it matter? The truth was, he seemed ha
ppier, which meant he’d hopefully cause less disruption. She reminded herself that it was really none of her business whenever her thoughts strayed to the topic.

  Jane and Ajaya had fielded a lot of oblique questions about human sexuality. It was a topic that came up far more than Jane was comfortable with. She’d done her best to be direct, to satisfy their curiosity.

  “Bright and sweet and a little sour. It explodes in your mouth,” Murrrsi replied enthusiastically.

  Pledor cautiously took a single tiny fruit and passed the bowl to Celui, who then passed it to Jane. Pledor watched her with narrowed eyes as she selected one and bit down.

  It was a sudden burst of flavor, flooding her mouth. Her salivary glands gushed painfully in response. Once that uncomfortable feeling passed, she chewed slowly to pick up all of the intense flavor components. There were lingering notes that reminded her of stone fruit and berries, a potent alcoholic kick, and even a hint of something like balsamic vinegar. It was unusual, but she liked it.

  Ouvaq took the bowl from Jane. “It is a berry with a tough pericarp and a watery interior. It’s sold in three main types. Fresh-picked glil is very sweet, but doesn’t have a lot of flavor. The second type has been left on the shrub to ferment to the stage when alcohol is present, and that form is very popular. The third type has been left on the shrub even longer, reaching a second stage where some acetic acid forms from the alcohol, rendering what might have been a relatively bland fruit delightfully complex. This was a very expensive gift.”

  Pledor gently bit the fruit in half, slurping at the squirting contents. His eyes widened, and he peered at what was left of it in his hand. “There are many small seeds. I wonder if they are viable?”

  Celui smiled at Pledor and stroked his arm. “Let’s dry some and find out, shall we?”

  Pledor absently patted Celui and rose from the table, clearly already taken with the idea. He vaguely aimed his next question at Jane, still squinting at his fruit. “May I be greedy and ask for another?”

  The bowl was full. “Take as many as you want,” Jane said.

  The fruit had reached Ajaya. “Remarkable!” she exclaimed and held it up for Pledor. He grabbed a large handful and left with Celui, the rest of the tasting forgotten.

  Ajaya asked, “Are fermented alcoholic beverages common? On Earth we ferment a variety of fruits and grains.”

  “Such beverages are available, though other intoxicants are generally preferred because they have fewer side effects,” Feig replied.

  Brai’s voice rumbled in Jane’s head. “Qua’dux, a message has just come in on the Vermachten’s secured channel.”

  Jane thrust her chair back with a screech. “Put it on-screen here in the dining hall.”

  It came up nearly instantly, which she was grateful for. Ajaya moved to stand next to her. Jane grabbed her hand.

  Darcy looked calm, with one corner of her mouth turned up.

  Jane felt herself relax a small fraction. Darcy wouldn’t be smiling if she had bad news.

  “Well, I don’t know what you were so worried about. I got there shortly before Kai’Memna, and your folks didn’t need my help at all. The threat to your experiment out there, whatever it is, is taken care of. Kai’Memna will not be bothering you anymore. Not only that, you may be adding a few more ships to your fleet. I’ve just transferred a packet of text addressed to you and Ajaya Varma from your Captain Gibbs. Oh, and by the way…” Darcy’s face broke out into a full, toothy grin. “Your boy Einstein says he misses you, and that you’ll know what that means. I’ll be in touch. You can contact me anytime on this channel. Seems like you have no trouble finding me. Just yell if you need anything, especially if it will help Earth.”

  Ajaya squeezed her hand. It was over. They were safe. She would love to know a lot more information than Darcy had supplied, but she could send a video message with more questions tomorrow. Now she actually felt like celebrating. She spontaneously hugged Ajaya, and they returned to the table.

  More special foods made the rounds. Jane sampled each with gusto. Next was a small, salted fish. It didn’t taste terribly different from similar foods on Earth. It was rich and oily, with an earthy flavor. Most of these foods were familiar to the pelimarians, Murrrsi, and probably Imadua, but novel for Jane and Ajaya.

  “I’m glad to hear the pligan project and your people are safe,” Feig said.

  “It sounds like an effective treatment,” Ouvaq commented as she broke off a piece of a dehydrated vegetable that looked quite a bit like potato.

  Murrrsi took the bowl from Ouvaq. “Deceiving the Swarm to protect a planet is all well and good, but something must be done to decrease their numbers, weaken them, or even send them to another galaxy.”

  Imadua held a piece of the vegetable just in front of his mantle. His flat appendages moved with a flexible grace, cupping the food as adroitly as a human hand and passing it under his hood where it disappeared from view. “They must be eradicated. They have nothing to offer but death.”

  The group grew more somber. Jane bit off a small piece of the fragile dehydrated vegetable. It dissolved on her tongue instantly, and surprisingly tasted more like melon than anything else. “Have any of your worlds been affected by the Swarm?”

  Feig had a far-off look in her eyes. “No civilization has been untouched by that menace. Colony worlds and farming worlds are the most vulnerable, because the populations are small and these planets are often quite distant. As a result foods like these are quite dear, because few people are willing to take such risks.”

  Murrrsi laid another sheet of the vegetable on her tongue. “Overpopulation and famine are a constant problem.”

  Imadua said, “Wex instituted population-control measures centuries ago. We do not experience famine. But the people are dissatisfied that only a few selected by lottery may be allowed to procreate.”

  Ajaya reached for a bowl of what looked like a very soft, oily nut. “And is there no definitive line of defense?”

  Feig looked down. “When the Swarm comes there is always great loss of life, no matter how well fortified a world may attempt to be. It is a sad fact.”

  Jane noticed that Imadua didn’t partake of many of the offerings. After sampling a few things, he made excuses and left quietly. Imadua was a subdued individual, only speaking when he had something vital to offer. He always made an appearance at these social events, but rarely lingered long.

  The wexian had worked tirelessly to make the recordings for her broadcast and happened to have a small camera that hovered in the air and moved around smoothly. As part of the wexian diplomatic delegation, it had been his job to record any sessions of the assembly that would affect Wex for news broadcasts on his world. The recordings he had made for her were simple, but done well. Jane had footage that had been created by NASA about Earth’s cultures and people for the Providence mission. Imadua converted it to a new format appropriate for galactic distribution and weaved it into the final production along with Jane’s voiceovers. The result was, Jane hoped, professional and interesting. They’d made six episodes, each about an hour long. If there was interest, they’d make more.

  The pelimarians helped her with the scripts for the videos, pointing out potential cultural misunderstandings. She appreciated the experience they brought with them in these matters. The pelimarians and the wexian were fitting in fairly well with the rest of the inhabitants of the ship. There hadn’t been any conflicts, though the overt sexuality of the pelimarians did add some tension, at least from Jane’s point of view.

  Feig leaned forward in her seat in the way that Jane had come to understand meant the woman was about to broach a subject that might be uncomfortable.

  Jane started to stiffen, caught herself, and made herself relax.

  “We were reviewing your programming, Qua’dux, and found ourselves curious. If we may ask? We shall certainly be fielding many questions about the content.”

  “Go ahead,” Jane said. She tasted a slice of a large, crispy fr
uit that was like sweet celery. It was salty with a hint of anise flavor, but had the consistency of a juicy apple.

  “There are many images of you, Ajaya, and other female humans in the program you will broadcast in which your facial features appear quite different than they do now. Is this a function of age? Or some other factor?”

  Jane frowned and glanced at Ajaya.

  Ajaya nodded. “I believe the differences you note are due to cosmetics.” The word “cosmetics” had no direct translation, so Ajaya used the English word.

  Feig looked from Ajaya to Jane and back again.

  Ajaya continued. “It’s a cultural practice. On Earth some people, mostly women, apply color to their faces to enhance physical beauty.”

  “It’s an affectation?” Feig asked.

  Ajaya shrugged. “I suppose it is. It’s expected in some circles. Many women reject the practice or are uninterested. It’s relatively benign. I suppose it makes women feel better about themselves. Some treat it like an art form.”

  “And do the different colors signify anything? Estrus, availability, pregnancy? Why do only females practice this?” Feig asked.

  “Colors used are personal preference and don’t signal anything. As for why it’s mostly women who use cosmetics—that is rooted in historic cultural norms. Some males do use these products to express themselves, or to look a certain way for recorded media or theater, though that’s a little more rare.”

  Ouvaq looked enthralled. “But neither of you use these enhancements now—why not?”

  Ajaya smiled. “A very simple, practical reason. Weight. Our ship was quite primitive compared to what is standard here. Everything aboard had to fulfill a pragmatic purpose. And we were far too busy to indulge in something quite so fanciful.”

  Murrrsi sniffed a piece of dried meat before tossing it into her mouth. “It’s not unheard of to enhance one’s looks artificially. My people pride themselves on maintaining impeccably clean and shiny hair. Some people who can’t achieve that naturally use products to make themselves more attractive to others.”