The Blockade

by Jean Johnson

  “That is not the same thing as actually fighting, meioas,” Jackie replied. The fussy Gatsugi moved as if to try to drag the tables together again. She quickly twisted, sliding her hip onto the table, then hitched herself up onto it, swung around to face the others, and crossed her legs. Claiming the table’s territory in such a way that it would be a physical affront to try to move it.

  (You insist upon making me wrinkle the dignity of the Empire, don’t you?) Li’eth muttered, though his underthoughts swirled with humor. Just a beat or two behind her—like Nayak had been behind Ma’touk—he did the same thing, hitching up onto the table, swiveling around, and folding his legs in the same crossed way as her. (Cloth of gold does wrinkle, you know.)

  (Telekinesis,) she retorted helpfully. The Gatsugi flushed uncertain tangerine and retreated. It was one thing to fuss over inanimate objects; it was another, protocol-wise, to literally try to move two high-ranking dignitaries. She wanted to seize on that but wasn’t sure how. (I think they need an analogy to explain why we cannot be lumped together. You got anything?)

  (I think so. Something I heard some of my fellow officers discussing when I was on a ship prior to the G’Deth.) Out loud, he stated, “Allow me to explain to you in a metaphor what you are asking. You are trying to demand that an engineer who builds structures, an architect, build instead a ground vehicle. It is possible for them to make something that will work, but it will not work well and will not necessarily be safe, effective, or efficient.

  “At the same time, meioas, you are asking an engineer who builds ground vehicles to create a building. They might be able to make one, but it will not be truly functional, it will not be truly strong and stable, and like the ground car, will probably wind up missing many important features. Yes, our two nations are the same species, they are both engineers, but the kinds of things we do are two separate things.”

  “We acknowledge this without rancor or animosity. We do not hate each other’s differences. We are not the Salik—and I say this after having walked in the minds of twelve of them,” Jackie added firmly. “We do not need something to hunt in our lives. We are not the Salik, and we can get along as structural engineers and vehicular engineers, without having to build the exact same objects. Let the V’Dan build their temples and palaces and bridges. They are good at what they do. Do not demand them to build metaphorical starships when that is not their specialty.”

  “Let the Terrans build their small but fast starships and communications networks,” Li’eth agreed firmly. “Do not demand that they stop building such things just because you think they should instead design and erect domes for colonizing airless planets. That is not their specialization.”

  “It would make as much sense as demanding the K’Katta, who in this metaphor could be the masters of agriculture, to give up farming foods and start erecting buildings instead,” Admiral Nayak stated.

  “Or to ask the Chinsoiy to spin and weave clothing for the Tlassians, when they do not have much in the way of clothing needs,” Grand General Ma’touk agreed. “We may be the same species, but we are not the same people . . . and as much as I had to learn how to respect the Terrans as mature people, I have always respected them as a separate government.”

  “We have no desire to actively fight each other,” Li’eth told the others.

  “We have no desire to fight anyone if we do not have to,” Jackie agreed. “But that is no different than the K’Katta not wishing to fight anyone else. Fighting is counterproductive.”

  The K’Katta delegate from before chittered again, his words chiding. “Yet you, Grand High Ambassador, threatened to go to war with the V’Dan when you closed your embassy among them.”

  “Did they go to war with V’Dan?” Li’eth asked pointedly before Jackie could answer. “Did they attack my people, Commander-of-Millions Tlik-tlak?”

  “No, but they still threatened to do so,” the alien pointed out, gesturing with a dark-furred limb.

  “We admit we are not as gentle as the K’Katta race,” Jackie stated, looking at the other races so she wouldn’t flinch in looking at the K’Katta when he moved his multijointed limbs. “But that does not make us the same as the Salik. My statement was a warning of a defensive reaction to an inappropriate action. It was a warning against the former Imperial Heir acting rashly, without careful advance thought. We did not at any time go to war . . . because the V’Dan did not act rashly and without careful forethought once they received that warning.”

  “Unity for Alliance membership is required,” the Chinsoiy Fearsome Leader stated. “One species, one government.”

  “Why?” Jackie asked, gesturing at the figure beyond the extrathick, radiation-dampening window. She twisted to look at the other tables, the Solaricans and Tlassians to her left, the Choya and K’Katta to her right. “Why must we become one government, when your governments do not have to become one with each other? There is no one government ruling over the K’Katta and the Choya and the V’Dan and the Solaricans and the Tlassians and the Chinsoiy—and jointly settled colonyworlds do not count for this discussion.”

  “Unity isss . . .” one of the other Tlassians began, before faltering. The sides of her green-scaled neck flexed outward, broadening for a moment by a thumbwidth at most. The red-scaled Tlassian who had spoken first briefly bared his teeth at her, and she subsided quickly, thinning the width of her neck.

  A beige female among the K’Katta spoke up, her translator box putting inflections behind her words. “We must discuss the jointly settled colonyworlds because they are not jointly held. One government rules them. You recently came from Au’aurrran with the information we will soon discuss,” she pointed out. “It is ruled by the Solaricans. They agree by the rules of the Alliance that they will allow certain physiological differences to be acknowledged and accommodated, and that within pocket communities, familiar laws may be upheld, but only among their own kind inherently.

  “Any interactions with any other race fall under the parental government in charge of that world, in this case the V’Dan bowing to the laws of the Solaricans, even if they’re just trading with our kind, the K’Katta, and not with the Solaricans. On Au’aurrran, Solarican laws rule,” she stated, her chittering ending a few moments before her translator box finished speaking.

  “Guardian-of-Millllionss is correct,” the green-scaled Tlassian female stated, pushing her scaled version of a hand out toward the K’Katta. “She ssspeaksss with a clarrrity I could not sssummon. Thisss unity musst be observed, so that all are given the sssame laws for theirr kind.”

  Li’eth, sensing Jackie’s confusion, offered, “I believe the meioa is discussing uniformity in those physiological allowances, and with it, entangled cultural allowances.”

  “Yess, but nothinng sso dry,” the Tlassian female agreed, and looked briefly at her companions. “Our people arrre three within one. Mannny workerrss, some warriorss, a few priesssts, yet we arre one, clossser than you two are.”

  “Thisss great split between you iss . . . uncommfortable,” the red-hided male stated.

  “Yes/Yes/Yes!” the fussy Gatsugi with the blue not-hair agreed, flushing bright green in what had to be a touch of excitement with patches of blue pleasure. “The rift/gap/discord must/needs to be patched/united/healed! Please/Kindly unseat/descend from the surface/table. The tables/desks will/need to be pushed/returned together/unified! You/Your species must/needs to be unified for clarity/communication/peace!”

  “If you ffffight, it could tearrr the Alliance aparrt,” the Solarican with the white fur stated. She lifted her half-furred hand, palm turned toward herself in a V’Dan style of gesture. “We will nnnot tolerrate a ssecond aggrrressive race.”

  “I agree, you shouldn’t have to suffer that,” Jackie agreed. “But I am still not convinced either nation should abandon our thousands of years of history, our governments, and be forced to join with the other, nor be forced both t
o abandon our different ways of life to try to form a third version. My father’s father had a saying, and that saying is, if it is not broken, do not try to fix it. The prince’s system works fine for his people. My people’s system works fine for us.”

  “Neither nation is broken, so there is no need to join them together,” Li’eth agreed. “There is nothing broken that needs to be fixed.”

  “Our concerns are justified!” the dark-furred K’Katta insisted, curling two forelegs into his thorax-analog and thumping it as he chitter-whistled. “You get along now, yes, but there is no guarantee you will get along five years from now! Or fifty, or five hundred.”

  Li’eth raised his hand, palm toward himself. “Actually, we know what happens five hundred years from now, thanks to the words of the Immortal.”

  “Immortal is a prophecy-glider,” one of the other Chinsoiy inside their contained preferred environment stated. They moved up to the window and pressed the leading edges of their extra-long outer fingers against it. “Turbulent the airs of futures promised.”

  “These prophecies have been accurate so far,” Li’eth stated, gesturing toward Jackie. “I would not be alive if it weren’t for those prophecies the Immortal brought through time, and the far-flying minds of the Ambassador’s people. She would not have been in a position to rescue my surviving crew as well as her own if it weren’t for such things.

  “More than that, meioas, the Immortal predicted across millennia not only the existence of two Human Empires, but of a third Human Empire arising four or five hundred years from now. And in all of those prophecies, not a single war between any of the three nations has been predicted. Not one.”

  Jackie saw the doubt on the few faces she could read among the other races—mostly the Gatsugi—and noticed it in their auras. “Would you like an addendum clause appended to our joint nonaggression treaty?” she asked dryly. “Perhaps a double-indemnity clause of both governments having to pay high-fee penalties to every other government if we go to war with each other?”

  “You sssay,” one of the until-now-silent Choya delegates stated, two of her three crests rising a little, the other one flattening, “that you do nnnot wish to lose autonomy. How will you rrrule coloniess you both sssettle?”

  “We’re still working on that,” Li’eth stated dryly. “For now, Terran soldiers understand that they are to be ruled under Terran military law, with the understanding that if they break any V’Dan civilian laws, it will be judged on a case-by-case basis, starting with a comparison to similar Terran laws, and ending with a double indemnity of suffering both civilian and military penalties. These rulings do not, however, include Terran civilians as at this point in time, the only Terrans who are not in the military are members of the Terran embassy and are protected instead by the common-held Alliance laws for such things.”

  “The most recent round of talks have included enclave laws similar to what the other representatives have described here,” Jackie added. “We have also considered joint responsibility for supplies, medical services, military protection, and so forth, and options for declaring dual or single citizenship. Such negotiations take time, however. In the meantime, we do have a war to fight, gentlebeings. I would like to move on to that part of this meeting, rather than wasting time arguing over something—several somethings—that are not going to happen, and do not need to happen here and now, even if they could. Let us not waste our energy on a discussion that can be deferred to another time.”

  “V’Dan is certainly not going to submit themselves to Terran governance,” Li’eth stated in agreement, uncurling his legs and slipping off the table. He tugged at his cloth-of-gold garments to straighten the heavy fabric. “Terrans are not going to swear loyalty to the Eternal Empress and start tattooing their faces with artificial jungen marks. Knowing what I know of both nations, from where I stand, the view I have, the only reason why we would go to war is if outsiders tried to use force to shove our two nations into becoming one entity, against our will.”

  Dismounting as well, Jackie dusted off her own wrinkles. “I suspect, Your Highness, if that were the case, my government would unite with yours . . . just long enough for us to mutually pound the idiocy out of anyone who thought that would be a good idea.”

  “I would have to concur, Grand High Ambassador. I am quite certain Her Eternity would willingly direct the Imperial Army to join forces with your Space Force in teaching any such aggressors an appropriate lesson,” he agreed, clasping his hands lightly in front of him since he was done with fussing over his own uniform.

  A strange, undulating whistle escaped one of the K’Katta who had not spoken, a smallish dark-furred male draped in red-and-purple sashes. It emerged from the modest machine he carried as a warm, open laugh, before he said something actually translatable into V’Dan. “. . . It is strange, but I find myself reassured by that assertion, meioas. You are like nestmates. Siblings. You each have your own life to lead, your own direction to take, and refuse to be forced to climb the other’s exact path.

  “You each claim a distinct and separate tree . . . but when your forest is threatened, you will defend each other firmly against all out-dwellers. A very nestmated thing. I shall accept your assertions as fact,” the arthropoid stated, his translated tone warm with amusement.

  “President Marbleheart, that is insufficient data for reaching that conclusion,” the Commander-of-Millions, the other male, countered in a chittering, not-quite scold. His civilian superior apparently had one of those names too difficult for a non-K’Katta to pronounce, so the underlying meaning of their leader’s name had been translated and used. “Is it wise to base policy decisions on such things?”

  “V’Dan minds are similar to our minds, Commander-of-Millions Tlik-tlak,” the K’Katta leader stated, raising a foreleg as he made his point. “Independence for the individual, coupled with unity among kin when faced with an external danger, is a trait our own people shared before developing the writing skills to describe and record it.”

  “Innn other worrrds, you trrust them because you know it is sssomething you woulld do, with your simmmilar minds?” the white-furred Solarican asked. “That is nnot a trait restricted to your ownn kinds.”

  “It isss endemic to a wide variety of sspecies,” the Tlassian red-scale stated. “We are nnnot entirely convinced of these assurances, but . . . we arrre willling to delay that dissscussion for llater.”

  “Thank you, meioa. Are there any other objections that must be discussed right now?” Li’eth asked the group. “Or can we begin discussing the real reason we have gathered here? The time schedule of Salik attacks over the next few weeks gives us a narrow window of opportunity for hunting them, before they realize what we know and drastically change their battle plans.”

  “. . . Are there any objections on the subject of the V’Dan and Terran Empires remaining separate?” Jackie repeated after a few seconds of no one speaking. “No more? Then I thank you for expressing your concern. Please accept our reassurances that at this time, they are not necessary. I, for one, am ready to sit down and begin the real work of the day,” she continued, seating herself at the center of her curved bit of table. Her fellow Terrans followed suit. “Do you have any further concerns on the subject of our separate sovereignties, Your Highness?”

  “We see no need to say anything more on that subject at this time,” Li’eth stated, taking the center seat at his own table. His delegation seated themselves around him while he looked to the leader of the whole Gatsugi Collective, President Anoddra Light-Hopes-Many-Shadows. “President Anoddra, you have our apologies for the disruption of your people’s schedule for these events. Please, begin this meeting whenever you are ready.”

  As the War Prince, he tried to look unruffled by the Alliance’s assumptions and assertions, though his subthoughts tangled around Jackie’s in a mix of indignation, assertion, amusement, arrogance, and just plain relief they weren’t going
to have to fight any further through the idea of “Human Unity” just to get some real war work done today. She agreed on many levels, but using the patience of a lifelong civil servant, resigned herself to waiting until they did get to the heart of the reasons they were here.

  The introductions, as usual when done in the Gatsugi style, took about three times as long as they would have taken when performed by any of the other races. With the general location of Terran space now known by the various leaderships, that meant the Collective was still close to the center of known space, and made them the default hosts. They knew that the other races would speak plainly and bluntly by comparison and could tolerate it for expediency’s sake but preferred “true” communicative elegance for those portions of the meeting that showcased their hospitality.

  (I think he’s drawing to an end,) Li’eth warned Jackie after a while. (You’re up next.)

  (I know. Once you get used to the speech patterns, and the way they look at the universe, they use rhythms similar to those of many statesmen back home.)

  “. . . will/shall now/at this time explain/expand/expound upon their findings/revelations/information. Meioa Ambassador, please/kindly speak/enlighten us.”

  “Thank you, Meioa President,” Jackie replied. “As you will remember from the briefings we sent, transmitted in Terranglo to your hierarchy’s assigned code-talkers, Darian Johnston and I used our alien-oriented thought-sensing abilities to learn the language Sallhash. This has come at a cost of many nightmares and sleepless nights,” she added, “but we have managed to use that familiarity with their language to prod out of the minds of several captured high-ranking officers the scheduled plans of attack for the next few months.

  “This information took days to confirm, and has to our deep regret cost the fall of the Tlassian colony of Glau, which happened just two days ago,” she admitted grimly. “Glau was too far away from any significantly sized Alliance force to thwart the Salik full invasion fleet . . . but had we acted instantly, there was a chance a modest fleet could have been sent in time to reduce the full brunt of their forces landing upon and ravaging Glau.