Ardulum

by J. S. Fields

  “I feel like I was punched by a Nugel. Twice, in the eye.” Neek rubbed her eyes and then opened them. The Ardulan smiled at Neek, whose expression slowly filled with a childish wonder.

  “Neek!” Yorden yelled. “Holy fuck.”

  “Yeah,” Neek managed. “Does someone want to tell me what is going on?”

  The woman offered her hand and helped Neek into a sitting position. Neek rubbed her eyes again and then stretched her arms. “Funny,” Neek said to the Ardulan. “I have a very distinct memory of the president firing a gun at my head.”

  “You were totally shot in the head, Neek!” Nicholas called out.

  Neek swung around and took in the scene. The Ardulan assessed it as well. Kneeling Neek, frozen Neek, dead Neek, and the two humans bleeding in the middle of all of it.

  “Guess I missed some fun,” Neek commented dryly. Yorden managed a pained smile. “So if I was shot in the head, someone want to fill me in on why I’m on the cold floor of a hangar bay using both my eyes?”

  “A miracle,” the chief answered, her tone awed. “A miracle from Emn. Praise Ardulum!” The chanting rose up again from the kneeling Neek, their voices soft and melodious. The Ardulan woman stood awkwardly and looked to the humans, unsure what to do.

  Neek eyed Yorden and Nicholas, before focusing on the Ardulan. “You?” she asked, her tone uncertain.

  The woman shook her head. She tugged at her yellow dress and her braided hair.

  “Emn?” Neek whispered incredulously. “But she…Aggression Talent… She’s not even here.”

  The woman wasn’t sure how to respond. The strands were gone, and so too was the girl’s touch.

  “Help me up?”

  The Ardulan offered a hand, which Neek took. Leaning heavily on the Ardulan woman for support, she stood and addressed the guard. “My friends and I and Emn here—” Neek choked on the name. “—we need to go. We can’t be here. I can’t be here.” She inclined her head towards the Ardulan. “It isn’t safe for her here.”

  Yorden limped over and wrapped one of Neek’s arms around his shoulders. “She chose us. You’re on the wrong side.”

  The leader stood on shaking legs, and the other guards followed. She looked around, pausing on the dead bodies, the pools of blood, and the moaning wounded. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. She met the Ardulan’s eyes then, her voice wavering. “We’ve always served. I don’t understand why you have chosen the exile over the Heaven Guard, over our whole planet.”

  The Ardulan was confused. The Neek woman leaning on her seemed increasingly tense. The captain was turning a deathly pale, and Nicholas seemed to be battling unconsciousness. She didn’t know how to explain about the little girl, about how she had to get to her. The Terrans needed a healer, but she didn’t know how to ask for that, either.

  “We need to get to our ship,” Neek whispered into the Ardulan’s ear. “We can find Emn with our ship.”

  That made sense. The girl was not on the planet. They’d need a ship to find her.

  The Ardulan carefully transferred Neek’s weight to Yorden. Taking several long, graceful steps, she crossed the distance to the leader. Bringing her hands together in a point, she moved them up over her head and then gestured at the Terrans and Neek.

  “You want to leave?” the guard asked. “With them?”

  She nodded.

  The leader looked over her shoulder at the rest of the heaven guards. No one spoke, although the Ardulan could see wide eyes and shuffling feet.

  “I…of course,” the leader stammered. “Of course you can go. We just— We hoped you would stay.”

  Neek came forward then and took the Ardulan’s hand. It was warm and made the Ardulan think of the little girl. She smiled.

  “Oh, we’ll be back. Promise.” Neek grasped the sleeve of the leader’s robe between two fingers, sliding across the green piping. After a moment, she tossed it aside and scoffed.

  “Hard to believe how badly I wanted this. It’s embarrassing.” Neek looked the leader over and sniffed. “You want to protect Neek? Serve the Ardulans? Come with me. I think I might know how you can help.”

  Chapter 18: Markin Council Room, Risal

  The Mmnnuggls have taken Oorin. Repeat—the Mmnnuggls have taken Oorin.

  —Private Risalian network broadcast within the Charted Systems, November 1st, 2060 CE

  Kelm felt like there was something off about the council room. It was darker, certainly, as the council seldom met in the evenings, but there was something else. Perhaps it was the dank, heavy air that seeped in through the window, or perhaps it was smell of decaying andal wafting from the plantation that bordered the capital. Regardless, the atmosphere was unnerving, especially considering their current circumstances.

  “As it stands, we don’t know what happened to the cutter or Ran,” Xouy concluded. Xe gazed at hir colleagues and then sat, letting the weight of the words sink in.

  “We know where the cutter is located, however, correct?” Sandid clarified, hir eyes staring unblinking at Xouy.

  “We have its last known coordinates only,” Xouy responded. “I pulled a skiff off sector 75 to investigate, and the pilot reports that the cutter is currently caught in orbit around the gas giant, Quinone, in the Minoran System. The Minoran government has sent several liners to monitor the cutter until our ship arrives, but advises that recovery should be done quickly before the cutter is stripped for parts by a salvage crew. The ship is completely unresponsive.”

  “The Minorans were never a species that liked to leave trash lying around,” Sandid muttered.

  “Then we’re assuming no one is left alive?” Kelm asked.

  “No transmission from the cutter in eight days. The positioning system beacon shows the ship not to have moved from the gas giant’s orbit for the same amount of time. We’ll know more once we get some people onboard, but yes,” Xouy replied, hir eyes casting downward briefly, “we assume everyone is either dead or has, for some reason, left the ship. I’ve asked the Minorans not to board the cutter, for obvious reasons.”

  Silence hung in the moist air as the Markin digested the information. Kelm fidgeted under the table with the edge of hir tunic. The death of Ran was unwelcome, but the loss of the girl was devastating. At best, it might solve the issue of the mass Ardulan failures if indeed she was having some indirect telepathic influence, but the potential defensive loss to the systems… Kelm wasn’t certain that could even be quantified.

  “If we can’t recover the girl…” Kelm started, unwilling to finish the sentence.

  Sandid lowered hir face into hir hands and sighed. “Does it even matter anymore? The Mmnnuggls are well within the Charted Systems. More unknown ships arrive every day through breaches in our defense grid. Every day, I get reports of more lost Risalian ships, more outbreaks of violence within the Charted Systems. Violence.” Sandid paused and raised hir head. “Violence from species that haven’t so much as littered in the past fifty years.”

  “That might be edging into hyperbole, Sandid,” Sald responded darkly.

  Sandid continued unabated. “We’ve lost Oorin completely, and I have little doubt that the entire Callis System will fall within the week. The Callis Wormhole will be next, unless they’ve already claimed it.”

  “Ran should have sent ships to reinforce Oorin weeks ago,” Raek cut in, hir tone accusing. “We tasked Cell-Tal with Oorin’s security two months ago.”

  “I relieved Ran of that duty for the past several weeks,” Kelm responded curtly. “Ran’s focus has had to be entirely on the missing Ardulan.”

  “Fine then. Kelm should have sent ships.”

  “I didn’t send ships because there weren’t any to send,” Kelm retorted, neck slits burning. “Would you prefer I took ships from the border and opened an even wider gap in our defenses? Perhaps I should have taken ships from inside the Systems—ships that are being used to protect the beings that look to us for their defense.”

  Raek opened hir mouth to re
spond, but Sald held up hir arms, palms outward. “Enough. I called this meeting because it is time that we the Markin make a hard decision. The Risalian people have long been the protectors of the Charted Systems, and it is our continuing duty to perform this role to the best of our ability. With the probable loss of the altered Ardulan, we cannot hold the borders any longer.” Sald stared at Xouy. “With limited resources, which systems will we defend and which systems will be sacrificed?”

  Sandid blanched. “Before we sacrifice anything, I’d suggest we attempt a parley with the Mmnnuggls. If there is any chance to negotiate, I say we take it.”

  Raek tilted hir head, seemingly biting back a retort. When xe did speak, hir tone was tensely civil. “I concur. Negotiating for peace may not be possible, but if we can meet with the Mmnnuggls, at the very least, perhaps we can finally get them to tell us why they’re attacking. Perhaps we could even get some identification of their allies. This anti-Ardulan theory has merit, but I have a number of questions about how and why they have such information about the population of our ships.”

  “I agree that more information would be nice, but eventually,” Kelm added, recovering hir temper, “we will have to make difficult decisions. Sald is correct. We cannot protect everyone within the Charted Systems—not anymore.”

  “If I may, friends.” Sald tapped twice on the tabletop, and a holographic projection of the Charted Systems appeared, hovering just above the surface. “Risal is here—” Sald pointed. “—marked in blue. We are in a far corner of the Systems.” Sald placed hir thumb and forefinger in the middle of the hologram and twisted hir fingers to the right, rotating the display. “The Mmnnuggl force is currently swarming here, in the Callis System. Oorin has fallen, and it is safe to conclude that the Mmnnuggls hold the Callis Wormhole, although as of yet they have not made a show of force to claim it.”

  Sald bent over the display and tapped the yellow line representing the wormhole twice in rapid succession. The wormhole vanished from the display. “As you can see, taking the Callis Wormhole was a strong tactical decision. The wormhole directly connects the Callis System—the Charted Systems’ primary raw materials supplier—with the Minoran System—the Systems’ financial center. Without the Callis line, the Alusian Wormhole will be the only method of connecting with Oorin.”

  “You’re ignoring the Terran Wormhole on purpose, I assume?” Kelm said.

  Sald nodded. “At this time, yes, since the Terran System, much like our own, lies at the edge of the Charted Systems. However, unlike Risal, Earth has neither resources nor strategic value.”

  “Are you suggesting that we withdraw from the Terran System?” Sandid asked.

  “The Terran System would be one of my suggestions, yes,” Sald said. “It is tactically unsound for us to spread our forces that far out to protect one small system with only one truly inhabited planet. I suggest we focus our energy here—” Sald tapped another line on the hologram and made a circling movement with hir finger. “—on the Minoran and Alusian Systems.”

  “If we assume that the Callis Wormhole is under the control of Mmnnuggl forces, does it not follow that the Minoran System might be also?” Raek interjected.

  Sald nodded and tapped the edge of the table. Another holographic projection appeared directly above the Charted Systems display. “Today’s financial report,” Sald said, pointing at the scrolling text. “If the Mmnnuggls are in the Minoran System, their presence is minimal. It is vital that we get forces on Baltec as soon as possible. We cannot afford to lose both our mining and financial sectors. The Systems could not recover from such a loss.”

  Kelm leaned back in hir chair, considering. “So you propose concentrating forces in the Minoran and Alusian Systems and ignoring the Terran System. I’m assuming that means we would also be ignoring the Neek System, as it is another outlier.”

  “Reinforcing the Alusian Wormhole and its connection to the Callis System,” Sald added. “We will, of course, continue to heavily patrol the Meral and Risalian Wormholes to ensure that our own means of travel are not interrupted. Should we lose control of Neek, however, we will be reliant upon our poor plantation andal. This could have disastrous consequences for Cell-Tal.”

  Kelm nodded, thoughtful. They could afford to lose Earth, but they could not lose Neek, not if they wanted to continue any type of technological progression. The irony of the thought made Kelm smile.

  “We can worry about Cell-Tal after we get the Mmnnuggl situation under control, but I agree that Neek needs protecting, although we might not be able to manage it. At this point, saving the most sentient life should be our primary concern. I have another question, however.” Kelm stood and touched the holographic Systems map, rotating the map one hundred eighty degrees. “Let’s say for a moment that the Mmnnuggl insurgency is isolated within the Callis System and Callis Wormhole. I’d like to know how they got there in the first place.” Xouy tapped the lines representing the Risalian, Meral, and Minoran Wormholes, turning the lines yellow. “Either the Mmnnuggls have access to routes of which we are unaware, or they traveled to Oorin through these three passages. That means that an entire fleet slipped through three separate wormholes without being detected.”

  “A disturbing thought,” Sandid added darkly.

  Sald nodded in agreement. “I’d say that a new wormhole is a more likely scenario than somehow sneaking a fleet through our space or possessing impossible technology.”

  Kelm rubbed hir neck slits. Of course the Mmnnuggls had better technology than the Risalians did. It seemed like every species outside the Systems had better tech than the Risalians. Clearly, they needed to work on establishing new trade routes once the current issues were resolved. Although if species outside the Systems used faster-than-light drives, that put Risal at a distinct disadvantage.

  Raek repositioned hirself on the chair and cleared hir throat. “Back to the matter at hand. We sacrifice the Terran and Neek Systems and reinforce the Minoran, Alusian, and Risalian Systems.” Raek ran a hand through hir long black hair, and Kelm watched a few pieces loosen from the main mass and float lightly with static. “Have any of you considered how long the Systems can survive without the mines of the Callis System? Do you propose a counterstrike to take back that system?”

  Sald sat back down and folded hir hands. “One issue at a time, Raek. Are we going to focus our forces or not? We might lose Earth and Neek. Not indefinitely, but we need to be aware of the potential for heavy casualties.”

  Silence sat heavily in the meeting room. Kelm could hear footsteps just outside the door—footsteps of Risalians going about their daily routines, completely oblivious to the decisions being made meters away. The loss of andal would be devastating to Cell-Tal and Charted Systems technology, but the loss of life… Kelm had a hard time imagining it. All of those sentient beings with no idea what was coming, no way to defend themselves.

  A scrape of wood on metal screeched through the silence as Raek pushed hir chair back and stood. Xe turned and looked squarely at Sald, hands clenched into fists. “I agree. I am willing to bear the responsibility and the associated consequences.”

  Sald nodded, and stood as well. “As am I.”

  Sandid joined them, glancing first at Kelm and then at Xouy. “I agree,” xe added, weariness seeping through the confident tone xe was obviously trying to project. Without additional comment, Xouy scooted from hir chair and stood as well.

  Kelm remained seated. Beings were going to die. Sentient beings. Children. Elderly. Their homes might be destroyed, their lands possibly ruined. Entire generations would feel the weight of this decision.

  “Friend,” Sandid said gently, breaking Kelm from hir thoughts, “we will not go down this path without unanimous approval.”

  Except what choice did they have, really? Try to protect everyone, and everyone could die. Sacrifice a few systems, save the majority. Risalians had done this for the Charted Systems for decades, had taken the task of defense upon themselves so that no other beings
had to die. They couldn’t keep that promise anymore, however—could no longer keep the innocence of the Charted Systems from the reality of the greater galaxy.

  Kelm stood, each movement deliberate and measured. Xe studied each of the other markin, noting the purple-tinged neck slits, the pale blue knuckles surrounded by otherwise rich blue skin, the stress lines in the foreheads, and the bags under the eyes. It was obvious that none of them had come easily to their decision. It almost made Kelm feel better about what xe was about to do. Almost, but not quite.

  “I agree,” Kelm whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. “If diplomacy fails, sacrifice the Terran and Neek Systems and reinforce the Minoran and Alusian Systems. Secure the Alusian Wormhole. When the time comes—if the time comes…take back the Callis System by force.”

  * * *

  With neck slits burning and mind awash in death, Kelm made the short journey from the council room to hir quarters. The lights were still on, despite the late hour, and Belm, Kelm’s only offspring, bounded up from hir cushion and into Kelm’s arms.

  “Long meeting,” Belm said, burying hir face in Kelm’s tunic. The child wore no clothing of hir own. Status, and the appropriate tunic color, would be determined by a standard proficiency exam at maturation. Kelm knew better than to hope for blue—few Risalians even made a captain’s yellow, and only zero point one percent of the population even qualified for Markin status. Most Risalians who tested high enough for Markin never got a glimpse of the post. Risalian law specified that only five could hold the position concurrently, and the post came with lifetime tenure. The rest of the would-be markin spent their days in training camps and executive service posts, waiting for the right combination of luck and death to be elevated to the highest rank in Risal.

  Kelm knew that statistical probability favored the outcome of hir offspring wearing gray and serving on a transport ship. Except now those transport ships would become warships, and the gray tunics, the thirds, seconds, and firsts would be the ones to die. Belm was only a few years from maturation. If the war dragged on, if they couldn’t resolve it soon… Kelm didn’t want to think about Belm on one of those ships. Couldn’t think about it.