The surgeon was finished. The first phase of operations were successful with no complications. The internal bleeding had stopped, and all critical wounds repaired. The spider-like robot silently raised itself back to the ceiling.
Now, it was time to wait.
Ryan went into one of the drawers and pulled out a thick blanket. "We will hold off with any further surgery until she regains her strength," he stated flatly. "I want her on a full I.V supplement. He covered her with the blanket and looked over at his robot friend. "Keep an eye on her, Ziggy. If there is a problem, let me know immediately. Take care of her."
Ziggy nodded silently.
"I'll be back," he told her gently and kissed her on the forehead. "I've got a war to start."
* * *
11. Recruits
T hey moved in quickly, quietly. The Showmish slithered along on all fours, dashing through the undergrowth. The rover clambered through the muddy trail, wheels spinning as they fought for traction. Ryan waved to the party on the opposite side of the hill. The guards walking alongside were the first to be taken out. One at a time they were pulled into the bushes and killed. By the time rover emerged into the clearing it no longer had an escort. But the driver hadn’t noticed. He gunned the engine and covered the distance to the ship quickly.
They waited for the laden vehicle to roll to a stop. Ryan could feel the tension increase in the group around him. They hated the Xi-Empire. Too many times they had seen their women and children taken prisoners, to become slaves on some unknown world.
The driver called out for a guard. No one came. A moment later a Txtian swung open the hatch and started marching toward the ship, cussing in his native tongue.
Ryan gave the signal.
A very brief but intense exchange of blaster fire followed. It was over before it started. The overzealous Showmish made quick, savage work of their enemies. Then they formed a line to help the captives down from the rover.
This was the last of the Xabuntz II's deployed rovers. The next step was a little more complicated - to take over the other ships. But night was approaching, and the Shawma sun bathed the yellowish-orange sky with bluish-green as it slowly settled on the horizon. They all knew they had a lot of work to do before the next dawn.
Ryan motioned to the group leaders to meet. There were about a dozen of them now. The Showmish had quickly organized themselves into small, effective groups. The aliens were very efficient at creating and working within teams.
The leaders formed a circle. Ryan addressed them in Trinarieit. "That's the last of this ship's crew, but we have four more ships to go. Does anyone have an idea how long we have before they are ready to leave?"
"They like to stay planetside for many cycles. They attack our homes during the day, take their prisoners, and drink their intoxicants during the night." It was an older Showmish who spoke, his words were hissed out sharply, a Showmish expression of distaste of the topic.
"This time has become less brother. No more than one more day,” hissed another. “I have sent word. It has come back. When the sun had reached its quiche the first one lifts off."
They nodded - an almost human quirk.
"Then we’ll move on them now, on both sides of the planet," announced Ryan.
"It is a shame, my brother," hissed another.
"What do you mean?"
"This fog which provides your camouflage lifts under the cycle of darkness. One cannot sneak up on a vessel when its tracing scanners are active. It is suicide."
"Then we move on the ships on the day side of the planet now, and we wait until tomorrow for the others."
"Human, if a ship leaves before we seize it, then you must destroy it. It must be done."
"And what of the captives? You want me to kill them too?"
"It is better that way," added a newcomer, an especially old looking Showmish. The small crowd parted for him as he hobbled into their circle. His head nodded constantly, unable to hold up his heavy jaws. His skin was speckled with spots of gray.
"It is better that way. The sisters have spread the word, and the word has traveled well. No more.”
The Showmish surrounding him raised their weapons in a cheer.
“Listen, I am not destroying a ship full of slaves. I’ll disable it, but I am not going to kill innocents.”
“Very well, Human, attempt what you must, but you cannot save us all. We are strong. Let us focus on the task at hand. We ride the line of darkness and strike!"
Another cheer.
Ryan rather enjoyed this cantankerous old Showmish.
Another group leader spoke up. "There are those of us who can pilot these slaverships. We shall use these vessels we capture to move our brothers to the next site."
"I can load a party into my ship as well,” offered Ryan. “Remember, we will have to stay low, just over the treetops, and the shielding for each vessel should be modified for maximum deployment. Their tracing scanners will pick up a signature, but they’ll think they are just gas clouds.”
“It is an old trick we used during the Great War,” offered the older Showmish. “These slavers are ignorant compared to the Xi-Military. They are the lowest of the filth of their system. They have no honor, carry no discipline.”
“To their demise,” stated Ryan. "And I have a few presents for them," he announced, producing a half dozen black boxes. “These boxes will assume complete control of their ship’s systems."
The Showmish took the offerings appreciatively. "How are they used?"
"Attach them to any core access panel and press this button. They start their dirty work immediately. But I must warn you it may take time before they have full control."
"How much time?"
"Possibly as long as an hour depending on system encryption – that’s about how long the sun takes to move to about there,” he explained moving his arm in an arc.
“So be sure to attach them somewhere inconspicuous."
"Very good, Human, this will be of great help."
"Then let's move. Secure the rovers and tend to your injured. Whoever is coming with me, get organized. I'm leaving before that sun disappears. Have you selected the leaders for the other raids?"
Three Showmish stepped forward, one carried an air of command about him – he was once, possibly, a military officer.
"Good. Remember our strategy. Infiltrate first, quietly and quickly. Get in and plant the boxes. If they suspect something, they'll lock every hatch in the ship and leave you sitting there as they fly away safely to Xilo.”
"We will do our part. We have an advantage. They do not fear slaves. They are too arrogant. They do not expect us to be armed. We will succeed, Human, and we thank you, for all you have done."
"Don't bother thanking me yet. There’s one more thing. If any member of either ship's crew gets a transmitter link, we'll have a visit from the Xi-Empire Military fleet. You won't have anything to thank me for then."
He turned to address as many of them as he could. "Tomorrow afternoon, on the ah...quiche, bring all the ships to this clearing and any volunteers that you can spare. I intend to wage war against the Xi-Empire, and I'll need all the help I can get. Some say that what I mean to do is suicide - and it may well be. Either way, I’m looking for volunteers."
They understood him. What he had said had sparked a number of conversations throughout the camp. Ryan watched with interest. He didn’t bother translating, he could almost guess what they were saying. Before long, quiet came over the whole camp. They had somehow come to a unanimous decision.
That was something you would never see on Earth.
The old Showmish stepped forward. "All of us would gladly join with you Human, but there are some of us that have families to care for, others are too young, or too old. We will crew these slaverships and provide as many Showmish fighters as we can spare, before the end of the cycle."
He bowed his head humbly. "We wish we could do better but we are scattered throughout the planet and throughout the
galaxy thanks to the Xi-Empire. There are many Xi-bases here on Shawma that we must liberate. Our people are suffering."
"Don't apologize, your offer is more than satisfactory. I thank you. I destroyed the main relay satellite to Xilo when I arrived. That should slow down their ability to establish a link and give you the time you need to reach the bridge. If we move quickly and succeed, Xilo may never know."
Ryan looked up at the darkening sky. "Prepare your fighters. Time to go."
* * *
He checked in on Aviore. She was sleeping soundly. The monitors indicated she was stable and recovering well. He kissed her on the forehead.
"Gem, did Ziggy get the medical tests on our guests finished?"
"Yes. They are all in suitable health. No alien virus, bacteria or parasites have survived sterilization."
"Good, I need to move them to the main living area. We’re not done here."
Ryan stepped through the cargo bay airlock to find the Signites fast asleep. Ziggy had made them comfortable in their makeshift quarters. They were content, with full stomachs, clean bodies, and new clothing. Ziggy had manufactured some air mattresses and bedding for them. He shook the closest Signite awake. The woman looked up and smiled.
"Hello," she said. Her accent was thick. Her words seemed to die off in a rounded twist. "So this is what you look like. You are very similar to us, but that is what I expected... I must thank you. You saved our lives. We can never, ever repay you."
"You're welcome." he smiled back. “This is not just a social visit. I need all of you to move out of the cargo bay. We are going to have some Showmish guests using this area."
"I'll wake the others," she offered.
The four grabbed their cots and bedding and followed Ryan. He led them through the airlock and into the main living area - to the lower deck in front of the main system research console and filled them in on the past events. One of the men offered his help in the upcoming raids.
Ryan half-chuckled his response, "You're in fine shape to help. All of you need rest and you need to heal. If you need anything else, just ask your questions to the ship's computer. Her name is Gem. Just talk out loud."
"Hello, Gem," said the woman.
"Hello, female Signite. How shall I address you?"
She looked at Ryan, slightly confused.
"You do have a name, don’t you?" asked Ryan.
"Of course, my name is Steffereni, Gem.”
"How is the other Signite woman?" she asked, genuinely concerned.
"She has been stabilized. Her condition is improving. Do you know her? I mean. I'm sorry, I just thought..."
"Yes, I do. We met a long time ago. Her name is Aviore Tem Enova. The late Governor Tem Enova’s daughter," stated Steffereni. “She is very important to us.”
"The Governor? "
"Yes, the elected leader of our government, now dissolved. He was a casualty of this war. Until you carried her past us, we did not even know she was on the ship. We assumed they would have thrown us all together. They are a ruthless, cruel race."
"They will pay," said Ryan. "Gem, - night simulation. Please, try to get some rest, all of you. If I do need your help, I'll need you rested up."
Ryan headed back to the cargo bay. The Showmish warriors were waiting to file in, a lethal regiment of 50 armed Showmish warriors.
They were off in short order, heading towards their next target slaver. Ryan landed the Dancing Queen approximately five kilometers from their target. The Showmish deployed quickly. He went to join them, but their leader stopped him.
"Human, you have done your share. Let us take the risks now. If we do not succeed and the ship takes flight for Xilo, we will need you to destroy it."
"I’ve told you before I have no desire to kill innocent captives."
The Showmish alien face showed an unfamiliar expression. "You do not understand, Human. We would rather die than become slaves. What we have needed has been provided, with your help. Our weapons have been reduced to meager projectile launchers. It is no match for these." He held up the Xi-Empire laser rifle. "Our population has been reduced to mere thousands. Many of us have given up all hope. You have renewed our spirit to fight. Never fear, Human, we will succeed in our mission. We have no choice."
Ryan watched him disappear into the thick vegetation then closed the hatch.
They have no shortage of courage.
"Gem, I would like to learn Showmish, can you set up a subliminal program."
"Very well, Captain."
A familiar wave of background murmurs started in the back of Ryan's mind. He reached deep into his thoughts, deciphering the gibberish into concrete memories – fabricated memories. Satisfied, he turned his attention back to his monitoring systems.
The Showmish had already approached the slavership. Their images faded in and out of the tactical display as he watched. The tracing scanners did their best considering the heavy interference.
"Gem, what do you have on the Showmish?"
"The Xeronians have a vast collection of information on the Showmish. First contact with the Xeronians was over two hundred years ago. A number of trade missions were accomplished between the two races before the Xi-Empire intervention."
"Bring it up on the main monitor. I'd like to review all the contents of that library."
"Wouldn't you prefer to review the information through your vaskpar Captain?"
"Gem, you don't give up, do you? Us humans are physical creatures. We like to see, to touch, to smell, to feel. I would much rather view it on the monitor, and absorb it at my own control. I do not like to use the vaskpar as my only source."
"I understand. You are strange creatures, you humans. You continue to surprise me with your imperfections."
"You know, Gem, you're sounding more human every day. You've even developed a dry sense of humor."
Ryan caught himself, something about what Gem had just said was nagging at him and he just realized what it was. "Who is your creator, Gem?"
"You are."
"Not me personally, Gem. The Xeronians constructed your neural gel matrix. I only helped in the process."
"Allow me to clarify," Gem interrupted. "Humans are my creator."
"What are you saying?"
A long pause followed, and finally a reply. "The ones referred to as the Ancients were human."
"I see," Ryan said aloud. He pressed a few virtual commands on the console. The black-glass wall took on the form of a huge display monitor. The whole room was bathed in a shimmering, blue light. One of the Signites behind him stirred but went back to sleep.
"So, logically, you are my creator," continued Gem.
Ryan decided to drop it as there was more important work to do.
"Gem, pull up the library directory, split the screen and pull up a status of that slavership, split again with a long-range tactical into space. I don't want any surprises dropping in on us. Oh yes, break up that tracing scan, scan for life signs on the ship on a, say... two minute interval. Keep count of the life-forms and tell me when the Xilozak and Txtian count starts to go down."
"Very well, Captain."
The display split into multiple sections, immediately providing Ryan with an up-to-date tactical.
He glanced at the Signites behind him. They were still fast asleep on their cots. Ryan made a mental note to stay quiet, then glanced back to the library index display and pulled up the Showmish links. "OK, Gem," he relayed over the vaskpar, "let's start at the beginning. Review of their physical makeup."
Ryan was deep into understanding Showmish physiology when Gem interrupted to inform him some Txtian life-forms had disappeared from his tracings.
"Looks like they've started." He glanced at his wrist chronometer - part of the equipment Ryan had his engineering friends manufacture while on Xeronia. This one, however, had a few more functions included: radioactivity sensor, internal body function monitors, even an old-style magnetometer.
"You'll see more of that yet," he informed G
em.
And they did, until every last Txtian and Xilozak life-form within tracing range disappeared. A few hours later, a lone Showmish approached the ship relaying the good news. Ryan met him at the base of the ramp. The messenger was a young warrior. His claws were covered in green and yellow blood. He was still excited from battle, wheezing loudly from his mouth. He reported that the raid was successful and that a number of freed human slaves were being escorted back to the Dancing Queen.
Ryan thanked him for the update and watched as the alien faded noiselessly into the trees. Stars were coming up, peeking through the dissipating fog. Again, their camouflage was lifting.
Ryan went back to reviewing the library.
"Gem, it says here that these creatures are slightly telepathic. Is that correct?"
"Yes. The archived information was checked for all conceivable errors."
"So is that how she knew?" he mumbled out loud to himself. "Gem, why didn't you tell me about their telepathic abilities?"
"I did not know that you thought that to be important. How can I measure that piece of data in relation to so many others? They also have the ability to diffuse certain minerals directly into their blood by osmosis through their skin. That is a fact that you did not know as well."
"That's not so important, it's whether or not it affects me."
"That does affect you. They must have a high degree of zinc in their environment, possibly suspended in the air to be comfortable. That, in turn, could be detrimental to your health over a long period."
"No, that's not the point either. Just forget it."
He should learn not to argue with a computer.
* * *
The party of humans arrived, 10 in all, with one Showmish escort. Ryan went out to meet the newcomers. Their escort, strangely enough, was the same old female he had met before. There were three women and seven men in the group. They all looked very confused and very much afraid.
A Bellicose Dance Page 38