Trek It!

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  "Yes," J'Tull said simply, choosing not to discuss her period of involuntary unconsciousness. She had no idea how long she had been out, and she did not really care to know; it was bad enough that she had blacked out against her will in the first place.

  Simon cleared his throat. "Here's our situation," he said, getting down to business. "Electrostatic interference from the buildings has cut sensor effectiveness. We were able to identify and track the bio signs of you and two others when you moved to new locations.

  "We've been unable to find the fourth set of bio signs," Simon said gravely. "Mariko is still unaccounted for."

  J'Tull was not surprised that Mariko's life signs were undetectable, but she did not comment. She would have been more surprised if Mariko had turned up unharmed after so enflaming the wrath of the Vox masses.

  "When you obtained a sensor lock, you did not use the teleporter," said J'Tull.

  "Teleporter is inoperative," said Simon. "Responding to a distress signal, we beamed the occupants of a Vox spacecraft onboard Exogenesis. They were suicide bombers." Simon paused and cleared his throat. "Dr. Plog and six security officers were injured in the explosion. Two crewmen remain in serious condition. The teleporter will not be fully operational for at least two hours."

  J'Tull checked a chronometer on the control panel. "The fleet arrives in one hour and seven minutes," she said flatly.

  "Correct," said Simon. "Which is why I'm hoping for some good news about the podcraft."

  "The other shuttles were damaged in the explosion?" J'Tull said as she touched controls and reviewed readouts.

  "Negative. Vox aircraft won't allow them to land."

  J'Tull checked a final display. "All systems are operational. The hull has sustained minor damage but integrity has not been compromised."

  "If I may ask," said Simon, "what about you?"

  "I am functional," said J'Tull. "Transmit the captain's coordinates. I will retrieve him and Commander Turner immediately."

  Simon hesitated. "I've given this some thought," he said, "and I wonder if it might be in the best interests of the crew to have you onboard Exogenesis before the fleet reaches orbit."

  J'Tull detected the uncertainty in his voice and read between the lines. That was one of the many problems with unrestrained emotion: often, it rendered an individual's thoughts and intentions an open book.

  Inadvertently, Simon had given attackers access to Exogenesis, and now he doubted his ability to command the ship. Now was not the time to indulge his crisis of confidence, justified or not.

  "The longer you delay transmitting the captain's coordinates," she said, "the less chance that all hands will be onboard when the fleet arrives."

  It was Simon's turn to withhold comment. "Transmitting coordinates," he said…and then J'Tull heard another voice in the background. "Excuse me a moment, Subcommander," said Simon, and the channel went silent.

  As J'Tull waited for the communication to resume, she reviewed Swift's coordinates. The Exogenesis transmission included a map of the Vox city, and she was able to pinpoint the exact building in which the captain was located.

  When the channel reopened, she continued to study the map, seeking the best landing zones close to Swift's location. "Subcommander," said Simon, sounding noticeably more excited. "I can do better than provide you with coordinates."

  J'Tull continued her work and said nothing. Eventually, she was certain, Lieutenant Simon would get to the point.

  It was then that another voice broke in on the channel. It was garbled by interference, but familiar enough for her to identify.

  "J'Tull?" said the voice. "This is Captain Swift."

  Immediately, she ceased her work with the map and looked up.

  *****

  Swift listened to the walls as Martin briefed him on the status of Exogenesis and the alien fleet.

  The radio setup was ingenious, he thought. In effect, the entire building functioned as a transmitter and receiver; the hidden room itself was a combination speaker and audio pickup.

  The system was operated via a translucent control surface that Altis had unrolled and slapped onto the wall. The polymer sheet contained no visible circuitry and wasn't even hung straight, yet it was enough to turn the building into a radio powerful enough to reach a star cruiser in orbit.

  It was impressive technology. This from a race that could be incited to violence by a single misspoken word.

  "One hour," Swift said thoughtfully as he paced across the safe-room. "That doesn't give us much time."

  "Fifty-seven minutes," J'Tull interjected over the open channel.

  Despite the gravity of the situation, Swift smirked. "Exactly," he said. "Just enough time for you to pick up Zeke and get the Exogenesis out of here."

  "You wish to remain?" said J'Tull.

  "Zeke needs immediate medical attention," said Swift, looking at his unconscious friend on the cot. Though the doctor had treated and dressed many of his wounds, the Vox had not attempted to repair his internal injuries. "And I need to find Mariko."

  "Her bio signs have been missing for some time now," said J'Tull, blunt as ever.

  "I'm bringing her back," Swift said firmly.

  "The anticipated invasion will not simplify your task," said J'Tull. "A search and retrieval could be conducted at a later date with Hephaestan support."

  "This matter is not up for debate," Swift said sharply. "Your orders are to return Zeke to the Exogenesis and leave orbit immediately…end of story."

  "Understood," J'Tull said flatly.

  "Next item," said Swift, staring through the transparent walls at the street below. The rising sun shot streamers of light through the prismatic buildings, casting rainbows on the glittering pavement. "Rendezvous point. This neighborhood has a shortage of podcraft landing sites."

  "I see a square a few blocks away," said Martin.

  "You will draw attention," said J'Tull. "You will be recaptured or killed."

  "I have friends here," said Swift, looking at Lyra, Altis, and Uvo. "We'll think of something."

  "Lieutenant Simon," said J'Tull. "Scan the streets between the captain's location and the town square. Are the streets deserted?"

  There was a pause as Martin passed the order to Ensign Levy and waited for the results. "Negative," Martin said at last. "We read hundreds of Vox. They appear to be moving in the direction of the square."

  "What's the next closest viable landing site?" said Swift.

  "Twice as far in the opposite direction," said Martin.

  "The square it is," said Swift, clapping his hands together.

  "If the Vox are massing at that site," said J'Tull, "they will obstruct a podcraft landing."

  "Then they'll just have to get out of the way," said Swift. "Descend decisively."

  "Aye, sir," J'Tull said without hesitation…but Swift could sense her disapproval. He imagined the expression on her face, rigid and blank…with a cold spark in her eyes betraying her unspoken reproof.

  "I'm glad we're all on the same page," Swift said with tongue in cheek.

  "Define page," J'Tull said coolly.

  "Sarcasm, J'Tull?" Swift said with a chuckle. "I'm impressed."

  "Clarification, not sarcasm, was my intention," said J'Tull.

  "Whatever," said Swift. "Let's get this show on the road. We have less than an hour."

  "Forty-eight minutes," said J'Tull.

  "The glass is never half-full, is it, J'Tull?" said Swift, but she didn't reply.

  *****

  Martin was about to give the order to close the channel when Ensign Levy spoke up from the science station.

  "Commander!" he said. "Bio signs!"

  "What about them?" said Martin, overlooking the Ensign's unprofessional outburst.

  "A third set of human bio signs on the surface!" said Levy. "They just appeared on sensors!"

  "What's that, Martin?" said Captain Swift over the open communications channel.

  "One moment, Captain," said Martin, unwill
ing to raise false hopes…though his own were pretty high just then. "Double-check your readings," he told Levy as he headed for the science console. "Triple-check while you're at it."

  As Levy toiled over the console, all noise and movement ceased among bridge personnel. All ears were tuned to Levy's next words.

  The reappearance of the missing bio signs hardly seemed possible. The day had brought nothing but bad news for so long…but if the captain, Zeke, and J'Tull could turn up, why not Mariko?

  It might have been nothing but wishful thinking, but Martin knew what the results would be before Levy announced them. The planet was rife with electrostatic interference and sensor ghosts, but Martin had a feeling that a cloud was lifting.

  His optimism was all the more incredible because not so long ago, he had given up on his shipmate. Though he had never ended the search for her, he had become convinced that he would never see her alive again.

  And now, there he was, convinced that a miracle had happened before Levy even opened his mouth to say it.

  "Sir," said Levy, looking up from the console. "Sensors confirm a third set of human bio signs."

  Grins and sighs of relief broke out all around the bridge. Someone cheered. Someone else thumped a console with his fist.

  That was Martin.

  "Can you identify the owner of those bio signs?" he said through his smile.

  Levy beamed. "Mariko," he said. "Alive and kicking."

  Martin turned and raised his voice for the audio pickups. "Did you hear that, Captain? Subcommander?"

  "Wonderful news, Martin," Swift said through the speakers. "What's her location?"

  "She's on the move, Captain," said Levy. "Several blocks from you, heading in the direction of the square. She's with a group of locals, sir."

  "Perfect," said Swift. "I'll meet you in the square, J'Tull. I'm leaving in five minutes."

  "Understood," said the Hephaestan. "How long shall I wait at the rendezvous point before concluding that you have been apprehended en route?"

  "Retrieve Mariko," said Swift. "Stay as long as you can and still make it back to the ship before the fleet arrives."

  "To do that, I must leave for the Exogenesis in nine minutes," said J'Tull. "We now have thirty-two minutes until the alien fleet reaches orbit."

  Swift sighed. "In that case, wait as long as you think is prudent. If Exogenesis has to leave without us, we'll rendezvous in orbit around the planet's moon as soon as possible."

  "Yes, Captain," said J'Tull.

  "Got that, Martin?" said Swift. "If we're not onboard when the fleet hits, get Exogenesis out of orbit. We'll meet you at the moon."

  "Aye, sir," said Martin.

  "No heroics, Martin," said Swift. "I don't want my ship blown to pieces because it's caught between an invasion fleet and its target."

  "Got it," said Martin. "Don't worry about a thing."

  "Let's get going," said Swift. "Good luck, everyone. Swift out."

  "J'Tull out."

  "Good luck," said Martin. "Exogenesis out."

  When the channel had closed, Martin reached over the science station console and shook Levy's hand. "Nice work, Ensign," he said.

  "Thank you, sir," Levy said proudly.

  Releasing the hand, Martin turned to survey the rest of the bridge crew. For the first time in hours, he felt a measure of confidence; with the resurfacing of all four members of the away team, he no longer felt resigned to failure.

  He still accepted direct responsibility for the injuries and damage resulting from the suicide bombing, though no one else seemed to hold him accountable to that extent. He still believed that his delay in sending down a rescue team had prolonged and worsened the away team's suffering.

  He was still greatly disappointed in his performance in the command role…but at least he was no longer convinced that his mistakes had doomed the Exogenesis and her crew to destruction.

  Slowly, he circled the perimeter of the bridge, considering the image on the viewer: the great golden fleet, a hundred ships strong, armed to the teeth…and close enough to see as more than twinkling lights against the firmament.

  "This is it then," he said. "In half an hour, those beauties will be on our doorstep."

  "Maybe they come in peace," said Ensign Bellweather at the helm.

  "Wouldn't that make a nice change?" Martin said wryly. "Maybe all those weapons are just for show."

  "And they're just as scared of us as we are of them," grinned Bellweather.

  "We probably have more similarities than differences," said Martin.

  "We just need to sit down and talk about it," said Bellweather.

  "We're bound to win them over," said Martin. "Just look at our recent track record."

  Tanner laughed. "We're going on tactical alert, aren't we?"

  "Only if that's the highest you've got," said Martin.

  *****

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A wave of panic surged through Mariko as the crowd pressed around her.

  Though she was relatively safe in the center of the group of lexicons from the Garden of Yesterday, she felt the same rising terror that she had experienced amid the mob in the ministers' tower. No one seemed to pay her undue attention, but she still felt as if the throng of Vox would overwhelm her at any moment.

  As she followed the flow of furred beings along the street, her heart pounded. Already overheated from the heavy cloak she wore, she felt trickles of sweat run down her sides and back.

  If not for her guns, she would not have been able to hold on to even the small degree of composure she had left.

  She patted each of them in turn, as she did every few meters – the rifle slung over her back under the cloak, the handgun nestled in the hip pocket of her uniform. The knife was still in place, too; she could feel the holster in her boot, rubbing her ankle as she walked.

  She was surprised that she still had the weapons after passing out in the nutrient mists in the Garden. As she had slipped into unconsciousness among the mists, she had been convinced that Folcrum had tricked her and would disarm her while she slept; upon awakening, she had been shocked to find the knife still holstered in her boot and the guns arranged neatly beside her. So far as she could tell, no one had tampered with them.

  The fact that the weapons hadn't been taken lent credence to Folcrum's denials that her blackout had been the result of trickery. From time to time, he had said, Vox were also unpredictably overcome by the mists, with no harmful aftereffects.

  He walked beside her now, his white fur gleaming in the morning sunlight. During the entire trip through the tunnels from the Garden of Yesterday to the surface, he had never strayed from her. She wasn't sure if he stayed close out of genuine concern or because he was assigned to guard her…and she was still disturbed that he had withheld information to manipulate her…but she took some comfort from his presence, especially in the heart of the threatening crowd.

  She only wished that he would tell her where they were going and what exactly would happen when they got there. Folcrum and his fellow lexicons had remained tight-lipped about the details of their plan; all she really knew was that they intended to stop Nalo's massacre at the revision conference without firing a shot. There were only twelve of them, counting Mariko, and she was the only one among them carrying a weapon.

  All through the day, she had felt as if she were blindly stumbling forward, reacting to events without being able to anticipate or fully understand them. She felt no different now, in the street with Folcrum's people…and what seemed like a million strangers.

  The avenue was so packed with furry bodies, she doubted that she could have stopped or changed direction if she'd wanted to. The crowd literally pushed her along, pressing her toward a common destination whether she liked it or not.

  At one point, they finally stopped moving, and she was glad for the break…until she was nearly crushed between the immobile crowd in front and the masses trying to force their way through from behind. She was mashed
so tightly between bodies, she had trouble breathing and could not raise her arms…and the pressure continued to build.

  Just as her panic peaked, the jam ahead of her broke and the pressure abated. Stumbling forward, heaving for breath, she grabbed hold of Folcrum's arm for support.

  After just a few more steps, they finally emerged from the street, and the crowd spread out around them. They entered a huge plaza, framed on all four sides by sprawling buildings. The expansive structures were layered in tiers, their upper levels rimmed in balconies with elaborate balustrades; at the base, each building was fronted by grand archways and columns atop broad stairways.

  Though the square was filled with Vox, it was nowhere near as packed as the streets had been. Mariko's panic faded a little; she was still worried that she would be found out and attacked, but not so worried about being crushed or trampled to death.

  "Here we are," said Folcrum, sweeping a clawed hand around to encompass the busy plaza. "Speech Center. Heart of our world's languages."

  Mariko nodded, recognizing the spectacular appearance of the site…but too agitated to appreciate it. All she could focus on were the potential threats represented by the hundreds of bustling, chattering Vox…and the potential hiding places for Nalo's gunmen.

  "All these people are lexicons," said Folcrum, gazing around at the square's population. "Every working lexicon in the world…plus our retired and revised bunch."

  "You don't see this often," said blonde-furred Giza, on Mariko's other side. "The last was six years ago, but you rarely see a major revision twice in ten years."

  "Even without the threat of violence," said Folcrum, "it would be an exciting day."

  Mariko's group passed a crowd engaged in a discussion of pronunciation so spirited that it seemed on the verge of becoming a fistfight. Further on, a spotted brown Vox howled at passersby from a staircase pulpit, protesting proposed changes to a class of multi-tense verbs. A choir at the center of the plaza sang a thesaurus, with different sections – bass, tenor, alto, soprano – singing different strings of words with related meanings. Everywhere, the crowd communicated excitedly in the three Vox language modes – chattering, gesturing, and buzzing and clicking.