by Robert Culp
“Given your need for a translator, I presume your Malorian is not very good, Captain,” a different voice says. “And for a ship with ‘peaceful intentions’ with a hurry to get into a parking orbit you are very heavily armed. Perhaps you would humor me with what your ‘peaceful intentions’ are?”
“I have the weapons because poor luck seems to follow me. At almost every contact I have made since voyaging outside my home system, someone has tried to kill me.” That’s not entirely accurate, but it serves my purpose. “Be they brigands, pirates, xenophobes or just plain hostile the sad fact is that those with peaceful intentions rarely meet like-minded people. Our mission is scientific, mostly sociological, in nature. Is there a person or body of people with whom our scientists might meet for an information exchange?” I doubt it will be the first.
“Very interesting,” a long pause follows. “Very well, you are granted provisional permission to assume a parking orbit, please stay at ten thousand of your kilometers above our surface. When they disembark, you as Captain are personally held responsible for the behavior of your crew. I am sending you the latest publication of our laws.”
“I have received the document, Captain,” Chief Nicholson reports.
“I have read it,” Athena chimes in. “It’s very common when compared to others. Basically, be kind and respect the locals, do not steal, rape or murder. The thing we need to continue to emphasize is that no weapons of any kind are permitted anywhere.”
“That is correct, Captain,” the voice responds. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I overheard. If an item is determined to be a weapon, it is in violation.”
“But many things can be used as weapons,” I argue. “The list is exhaustive.”
“In the first place, Captain,” the voice says, “you are here uninvited. If you don’t wish to abide by our laws, you are free—even encouraged—to leave. Secondly, things that ‘can be used as weapons’ were all designed with other purposes. Yes, a walking stick can be used as a cudgel or club. But a firearm—most particularly a pistol—was meant only for killing people. Any argument may be an interesting philosophical discussion, but it will be had in court following arrest although preceding execution. If you wish to continue, you are required to contact the Galactic Affairs Ministry on Station B. They will assist you. If you do not, we wish you a beneficial voyage. Outpost Polaris out.”
I know the channel is closed, but I can’t help responding. “Thank you for your ‘assistance.’”
I look to Athena, “Start the topographic scanners and recorders. They can’t get too mad at us for keeping records of what we fly over, I should hope. Process the imagery and determine if there is any indication that Trelnar is of itself capable of interstellar travel?”
“It appears that while they do have limited interstellar commerce, they do not have native technology of that capacity. That ship is clearly from a society other than here, most likely Malorian given the language. Just a reminder, we are encouraged to gather water, soil and pollution samples. Of course, opening the path to trade is considered useful.”
“What about the starport, I mean ‘spaceport’?”
“The nearest to a spaceport is the largest of the space stations. By our standards, it is class B minus at best. It may be of local construction, but I’m not certain.” The cruiser in orbit has been very… “disinterested” is probably the best word. If it’s Malorian, and I think it is, it’s certainly here to watch and report on someone. The question is to whom?
But for the mission: “Athena, find us the equivalent of the Academy of Ancients Museum of Natural History. If they’ll allow us to copy their digital library—provided such a thing exists—that will go a long way towards us accomplishing our mission. Celeste,” she has come to the bridge even though she’s off watch. “Do you think we stand a snowball’s chance of doing so?”
“Perhaps, ma’am,” she counters, “but I have to ask, what are we prepared to offer in exchange? We suspect, even more so having seen their spaceport, that their technological development has been polluted.”
“Fair point. But I think the debate is philosophical now. There’s no way to undo what has been done. Perhaps we can offer them a different perspective so they can make up their own minds and determine their own path? And if we are granted an information exchange and you can find out who’s pulling strings for that cruiser,” I point at the view screen, “I would be quite grateful. It’s a great big question mark in orbit. Athena,” she turns to look at me, “search any news feeds for the skinny on that cruiser. Also, ask Chief Sergeant Okkam to report to the bridge.”
“Wilco.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Both tend to their tasks.
“Chief Nicholson.”
“Yes, Captain?” the communications tech answers.
“Establish contact with that office that Outpost Polaris alluded to.”
“The Galactic Affairs Ministry? As soon as possible, ma’am.”
A few minutes pass uneventfully. Athena speaks first. “I have two possibilities: The Galactic Affairs Ministry, and the Library of Accumulated Knowledge. The ministry is aboard the space station. The library is on the planet below, approximately here,” she directs my attention to a map on the central view screen with a pulsing red dot. “There is a facility capable of accepting one of our shuttle craft approximately thirteen kilometers away from it. It appears to have been designed for atmospheric conveyances.”
“I’ve made contact with the Ministry, Captain,” Carmella informs me. “Your inquiry?”
“Advise them that we wish to learn about their society. Ask when a convenient time for our visit would be, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Celeste appears at my side. “Who’s going where?”
“I’m still deciding. Given the prohibition of weapons, we’ll limit the teams to people with training in unarmed combat. I predict the Ministry is more bureaucratic than diplomatic, so I should go on that trip. I think you should go to the Library. Athena could pitch the scientific side, but you can make a more passionate argument. I think she’ll stay aboard while we’re away. The teams will be no less than three people, no more than five. I leave it to you to assign actual names.”
“Any sociologists or media technology types?”
“To survey the data we want to copy? A great idea but I don’t want to send them at this time. I’m not completely convinced we won’t all be arrested on some made up charge. That cruiser still bothers me.” I hope she can keep up with my subject changes. “I can think of two reasons to ‘monitor’ other planets. One is a prelude to invasion; the other is to maintain exploitation. Am I overlooking anything?”
“In the interest of time, I’d agree you lead the team to the ministry, but Doctor Sinclair or Doctor Klein should lead the team to the library. If you’re concerned about legalities, we could plus that team up by one or two to keep him out of trouble.”
“Sinclair definitely needs it,” I rub my chin pensively. “For a genius he’s socially clumsy. I thought Shawna was going to tear him a new one when he referred to her as the ‘aviatrix tart.’”
“In his defense, she didn’t know what an ‘aviatrix’ is, but that’s a story for another time. We can also launch an A21 probe that will enter the ocean and collect the appropriate samples from there.”
"That makes sense. Prepare the probe, but don't launch it until you hear from me. Same with the samples. The dweebs in that cruiser may have no respect for the sovereignty of this world, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't."
Chief Sergeant Okkam interrupts. “Skipper, I need your ears for a minute. We’re still relatively new to each other and despite the long time in Transit we haven’t made time for a true heart-to-heart yet, but I feel the need to get a few things defined. Athena gave me a brief rundown on this mission when she asked me up. Do you want us truly unarmed or with some cleverly concealable knives and stun guns? My suggestion, if I may, is to make out a uniform schedule that will list codes one to te
n: one is totally unarmed; ten is full battle rattle. If you are leaving this ship, I insist that you do so with people at no lower than code two by my schedule.”
I turn my head from Okkam back to my First Officer. “Thank you, Commander Mac Fadden, please inform Doctor Sinclair he is on the mission. That will be all for now.” She departs and I turn to face Rikk. “I hear and understand your objections. No knives unless it folds to fit into a pocket and the blade can’t be any larger than the owner’s little finger. No stun guns, and no projectile weapons. It must have a legitimate primary function other than killing, injuring, or incapacitating people. No exceptions. I’m a martial artist myself, but we can’t have everyone carrying a nunchaku claiming they were threshing wheat before they came to the planet. The fastest way to turn neutrals into enemies is to give them reason to believe that we don’t respect them or their laws. That price is too high to pay. The schedule idea makes good sense to me, implement it at your earliest convenience.”
“I might be able to make that work, ma’am. But I insist on someone with you carrying a stun gun.”
“And I forbid it. However,” I hold my finger up to him to stop his complaint. “If someone on the security team has a defective perCom which delivers an electric shock through the antenna rather than open a communications channel, I’ll be happy to look at it when we get back in to Transit space. As I suppose the communications shop won’t want to touch it. Now, Chief Sergeant, if you’ll excuse me,” I stand and walk towards the door, “I have to prepare to meet an ambassador or something like one.”
“Aye, ma’am. I understand that you and three troopers in plain clothes will go to the ministry, Commander Mac Fadden, Dr. Sinclair and four troopers similarly attired will go to the library. Ordnance schedule two, pocket knives, per my yet to be published schedule. They’ll all meet you in the small craft bay.”
CHAPTER SIX
I pick out a dress from my closet. It could pass for “business casual” or “professional leisure” but never as evening attire. I’m not going on a date, for crying out loud. As an afterthought I do slip the amulet around my neck. I’d like to take the microfilament saber, but there is nothing in the worlds that a sword hilt can be explained away as other than a sword hilt.
Even the term “spaceport” is very generous for the orbital space station that they have. It has no external docking umbilici like those at Rigg’s or Neptune and the only landing bay I see—the one we are given clearance to use—isn’t much larger than the small craft bay on Prophecy. One of my fighters could destroy this place by itself. Even being flown by one of Shawna’s junior pilots. I hope it's pressurized! No one thought to ask and none of us have APE suits!
Apparently, it is pressurized. We see people moving around on the landing pad without APE suits. There is a young man here to greet us. Following introductions, he bows to me then points to a corridor and signals us to follow him. The walk is short—maybe only a few hundred meters—but the route is quite circuitous. A woman with blonde hair, blue eyes and a body most women her age would consider committing several felonies to have greets us. “Good morning, Miss,” she says through a translator. “Krokus has blessed us with another lovely day. That is a beautiful necklace, by the way. How may I be of service to you?”
“Good morning,” that’s the extent of the pleasantries I’m exchanging. “I am Captain Sonia MacTaggert of starship Prophecy from the Ramaris sector. My mission on this planet is scientific and sociologic in nature. I have an opportunity I may wish to present to your government, but I don't want to step on anyone's toes. Is there a Minister of the Interior Commerce or someone similar I could address?"
“Of course, Captain MacTaggert, I will show you in to the Secretary of Other Worlds.” I’m glad Roy’s not here. I’d have to punch him to keep him from cackling. Roy is one of the lead engineers on Star Chaser and would never let a good acronym go to waste. He’d have way too much fun with SOW. “If you will wait here for me, please?” She bids us to wait while she enters the next office. Within moments she returns. “The Secretary will see you now, Captain. Perhaps your associates would care to wait here? I’ll have refreshments delivered.”
Corporal Desiree Cooper is part of my security team. She and the others are dressed similar to me, which is to say street clothes with a business tone. I’m the only one wearing a dress. I suppose they’d rather not have to deal with flashing the world if they have to kick the stuffing out of someone. Or get knocked on their backside. She’s dressed simply in slacks, blouse and a jacket. “That’s a fine offer, but we’re accompanying our captain.” Her tone indicates there is no room for discussion. I certainly won’t argue with her. The young lady knows a confrontation won’t go her way. She holds the door open as we file past.
Oddly enough, the first thing I notice in the interior office is the scent: an aromatic but not pungent tobacco smoke and…sandalwood maybe? A man walks from behind an enormous desk and approaches us, his hand extended. “Captain MacTaggert,” he says after his secretary introduces me. “I hope you are having a pleasant day. I am Darius Robar III, Secretary to the Minister of Galactic affairs. The ‘legacy’ title was ‘Secretary of Other Worlds.’ Personally, I prefer the change although some are still struggling with it. You are most welcome, please, come in, sit down.” He gestures to the sole chair on the “minion” side of his desk as he settles into his very large and plush seat. He pulls a cigar from the desk ashtray to put back in his mouth. He takes a few puffs. Satisfied that it is still lit at an acceptable level he speaks. “Astrella,” he indicates the secretary, “had coffee and assorted pastries brought in. Please, you and your associates are invited to refresh yourselves. Thank you, Astrella, that will be all.” She curtsies, and leaves.
I make myself a cup of coffee and take a small cookie. The security team does similar. Except for Cooper. She keeps her hands folded in front of her. “Now, Captain,” Mr. Robar says. “Please detail your wishes. The Minister has authorized me to welcome you as a visitor and accommodate you as much as our laws will permit on your visit to our beloved world. I’m sure you will want to visit some of our many tourist attractions. Please do register with the local Rangers in any areas you visit. They are posted in quite conspicuous places; you can’t miss them. Have you been given a copy of our laws?”
“It is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mister Secretary. I promise you, harming your world or the people on it is the last thing on our minds. Our planetologists would like to take some soil, air, and water samples for study. The Academy of Ancients maintains a database of all worlds with which we make contact. They have tasked us with getting more current data. We'd also like to take a few animal and plant specimens. Perhaps something you will consider to be of great value is an opportunity to send an emissary to establish trade relations to Atlas, a respected planet in the Ramaris sector? Of course, once the treaty is ratified they would be expected to set up office space on Atlas, but if desired they would be afforded every opportunity to come home. With your permission, I'll signal my ship to begin the collection activities. I presume you or your designee want to be represented in the selection process for the economic delegate exchange?” The end of his cigar is glowing bright. Have I agitated him in some way? Before he can answer I ask another question: “Oh, one more thing: we saw a cruiser in orbit of an unfamiliar design. Did it come from here?"
He returns the cigar to the ashtray, blowing out a thin stream of smoke as he does. “Ramaris? I have heard of that sector. In the interest of full disclosure, I have not heard great things. But that being said, your offer has potential. I will speak to the Minister and he to the council. It’s possible they will want to involve the Darkor on this matter, but I think that’s very unlikely. Take any samples you wish. Beware the Rovers, lawless gangs that roam the sparsely populated areas...we try to keep them at bay, but alas, our planet is crowded and civilization is encroaching. The other starship? You know as well as I it is from the Malorian Empire. They lay claim to
this and other planets, but do not interfere with our lives in exchange for a small annual tribute. Shall we meet again in three days at this time to review the candidate or candidates selected to visit your world?" He leans back in his chair, looking at me over steepled fingertips, his left foot on his right knee. I expect him to put his feet on the desk at any moment.
“Thank you, sir. We will be on the lookout for these ‘Rovers.’ I have a concern though; I understand that personal weapons are outlawed here. But if we are unarmed and find ourselves beset by these Rovers, how are we to defend ourselves? I've learned that in a land where arms are outlawed, only outlaws are armed. Is there a military or law enforcement agent or agency that is available to accompany us?
“Understand, my concern is not with my people injuring the Rovers. If they are as you describe, they probably have it coming. My concern is not to get tangled up in any legal matters.”
“You are authorized to carry defensive arms outside of populated areas. As you’ve noted, in the outer lands, our laws are not easily enforced. By that I mean outside cities and improved areas, I’m sure you understand me. I will have the relevant documents transmitted to your vessel, as I do not believe I can get them to you before you leave here today. As to the Rovers, they are fit for two things: hanging and burning. Consider them in season with no limit.”
“We can work with that, sir.” I stand; the security people that still have them empty their cups. “Three days I believe you said? That will be fine, I will see you then sir. If you need me, I should not be hard to find.”
“Until the ninth hour in three days, Captain,” he stands and walks me to the door. My security element follows us. We set empty coffee cups and plates down on the refreshment table as we walk past it.
“Until then, sir. And let us hope that our contact with any Rovers is brief and uneventful.” The young man who brought us here is in Astrella’s office. We follow him back to our shuttle.