James Wittenbach - Worlds Apart 03

by Bodicea

  The woman appeared again, sitting at the head of a horse-shoe shaped table. Seated around the table were twelve others. They wore robes in pastel shades of blue, green, yellow, and orange. The transmission then shifted its focus so that only the woman at the center could be seen.

  “Greetings. My name is Ciel. On behalf of the Inner Circle, the Outer Circle, and all the people of this world, we bid you welcome. We respect your achievement in crossing the millions upon millions of furlongs between your world and ours. We ask that you respect our world, our laws, and our sovereignty.”

  Earlier, it had been agreed that since Lear would lead the Landing Party, she would address their hosts first.

  “First Advocate, greetings and well-met. I am Executive Commander Goneril Lear of the Pathfinder Ship Pegasus. Thank you for your welcome. We hope this meeting will mark the beginning of a long and peaceful relationship between the people of our colonies. We have come a very long way, and are pleased to see that your world has come through the long silent night since the end of the Commonwealth with your civilization and humanity intact.”

  “We have prepared a shuttlecraft to dispatch to the surface, to meet with your people. I will be leading this mission.”

  Ciel shuffled some sheets of paper on the table in front of her. “Your earlier, indiscreet announcement was heard by many of our people. They have been told it was a hoax. We do not want you to reveal yourselves to the rest of the population until the Inner Circle has determine the most positive way of disseminating this information.” This doesn’t bode well, Keeler thought. Not very trusting, are they.

  “We have assembled the Inner Circle at Fond Glacine, a large lake at the northern side of our northern continent. You will meet with us there. If possible, do not fly over any populated area en route. If you approach from the northern pole, this will not be a problem.” Lear mentally evaluated the descent. Very steep angle. Fortunately, she had a strong stomach. “Agreed, First Advocate. We desire a peaceful meeting.” We can cloak our ships, Keeler thought. They don’t need to know that.

  “As do we, and in that spirit, we have additional conditions for meeting with you. You will not bring arms of any kind to our planet.”

  “We will unarmed.”

  “And the vessel that brings you, will it also be unarmed.”

  “Its weapons systems will be deactivated prior to launch. It will carry no offensive weaponry.”

  “No weaponry capable of inflicting harm on anyone will be permitted.” Lear did not hesitate. “We will honor your request, First Advocate.” I am very glad not be going, Keeler thought.

  “When can we anticipate your arrival?”

  “One hour after dawn at the site you specified.”

  The woman leaned with the others, and a moment or so later looked back at them. “That is satisfactory. We will meet you here, then, one hour after dawn tomorrow.” CHAPTER SIX

  Basil descended sharply over the northern pole of 10 655 Vulpeculus Five. As it broke through cloud cover, it found itself high above an emerald sea dotted with tiny ice floes. It bore down, quickly passing over the rocky, storm-tossed northern seaboard of one of the world’s topmost great continental landmass.

  In the forward part of Basil’s main deck, Goneril Lear sat next to Bridget Armatrading at adjoining stations, watching through monitors as the dark of space and the curve of the planet became a bright and vast landscape beneath the steeply descending spacecraft. Jones eased off the speed as gradually as she could, but the descent and deceleration were still stomach-tightening.

  Bridget Armatrading was dark of skin and hair, rather dumpy looking, older than Flight Captain Jones, but younger than Lear. She had spent most of her life in the Republic Diplomatic Core, and had been the Consular Representative to the Sapphirean Territory of Jutland when she was accepted to the Odyssey Project. Officially, she was part of Pegasus’s Exo-Sociology Core. She was on this mission because Lear blamed Keeler for the disaster that had been the EdenWorld mission. An experience diplomat would have resolved the situation more tactfully, she had decided, would have opened lines of communication with planetary leadership. Lear had wanted a trained diplomat on her Contact Party to make sure the same mistake would not happen again.

  “Did the Inner Circle ever respond to our request for a guide to local protocol and customs?”Lear asked her trained diplomat.

  “Unfortunately, they did not. I can assure you I made the request repeatedly, but I never got a response from them,” Armatrading answered. “It’s possible no such guide exists.” Lear nodded. “We’ll just have to … figure it out as the situation evolves.”

  “I will follow your lead, Commander,” Armatrading said, with a little too much gusto and Lear did not mind that at all. Armatrading was one of the few people who actually seemed to thrill to her company.

  At the rear of the ship, American and Murdoch reclined on couches, wondering if Armatrading would suffer a broken nose if Lear sat down too fast. American monitored the planet’s electronic communication network. It was very limited, and the traffic on it consisted of little more than exchanges among government organizations, boring stuff like requests for supplies. No one was talking about visitors from another planet. Murdoch reviewed data from the atmospheric sampling probe. He was an unremarkable looking Republicker, of medium build and dark, molasses-colored hair worn in a short simple cut. He did not mind dressing in his Med-Tech Uniform, without the Marine Crest. If he had been an ordinary Marine, he might have wondered what use he was, completely disarmed, on his mission. Instead, he considered how he might protect Executive Commander Lear with only his training and Centurion implants as weapons, should the need arise.

  Basil closed on the surface, breaking through the topmost deck of clouds. Rocks and tundra soon gave way to an immense, trackless forest of enormous conifers. Their orbital maps had shown that the entire northern third of this continent was uninhabited. The cities were clustered in the mid-latitudes, and along the coasts. The nearest population center to their landing coordinates was 1,100 kilometers away.

  Their bearing was a lake 800 kilometers long and 60 wide that made an immense gash just to the right of the continental divide, as though a giant had stuck a knife into the planet just there. The latest scans showed the lake all but completely hidden beneath a weather system of harsh teal clouds.

  “This forest has been untouched for thousands of years,” Armatrading said. “I don’t think they have even explored their northern expanse. The land looks almost completely untouched.”

  Lear had seen the same reports. “Our studies show a planetary population of under two billion. Perhaps they’ve never needed the resources.”

  “Admirable example of planetary resource management,” Armatrading gushed.

  Lear agreed, but did not show it. She touched her communication panel, and called up to Jones in the command module. “Is there a place to land?” Jones responded by displaying a diagram of their destination. On the southeastern shore of the lake was a cluster of stone and timber buildings with slate roofs. The largest was an oblong structure surrounded by four large rectangular buildings. There was no access road. Four air vehicles had arrived at the site. They were parked near a gravel landing strip and had probably provided transportation to the planet’s leadership. Lear was eager to meet them.

  “I think I am going to put down on the lake itself,” Jones answered. “There’s a dock near the structure.” She indicated a wooden structure jutting from the shoreline.

  “Send them a message,” Lear ordered. “Let them know our E.T.A. and where they can expect to meet us.”

  “Conditions at landing site – heavy overcast, intermittent rain,” Jones reported.

  “Transmitting E.T.A. and Landing Coordinates.”

  “I hope you don’t mind a little rain, specialist,” Lear said, almost confidentially, to Armatrading.

  “The weather is no impediment to good diplomacy,” Armatrading responded.

  “Used properly,
it can assist. It rains on everyone, so it’s a common experience. Things we have in common are the girders on which the bridge of friendship is built.”

  “You are correct, sir,” Armatrading spurted effusively.

  “Secure for landing,” Jones ordered from the command module. It would take some maneuvering to bring Basil down on point, but after listening to Lear and Armatrading, she was pretty certain that if anyone vomited, it would not be from her flying.

  Basil slid down over the lake, breaking the last layer of cloud cover, drawing wisps of foggy moisture into whirling ghosts that spun away from the gold-white tips of its wings. The ship continued to descend until it cast its own reflection on the dark aquamarine surface of the lake, where wind was churning the water into agitated battalions of waves.

  The ship came lower still until it skimmed over the water at less than thirty meters of altitude. The field of limited-effect gravitational drive made a dent on the surface of the lake that broadened to a V-shaped wake and tracked and trailed the ship as it speeded toward the shoreline. Jones eased off the thrusters, and the ship slowed as Basil approached its landing point. The atmosphere was heavier than she had expected, but her ship responded nimbly to her piloting. Ahead was a rocky shoreline approaching, with jagged, snow-capped peaks and a dense curtain of forest as backdrop. It was beautiful, even breathtaking. If this planet was anything like Sapphire, there should be a fabulously comfortable resort nearby.

  Basil eased up to the side of the dock and hovered above the water on a gravity bubble.

  Jones maneuvered the ship precisely, making tiny adjustments in the ship’s position until it was exactly where she wanted it to be. When it was, the side-hatch slid open and a ramp deployed. Lear led the way off the ship, followed by Armatrading, then American, then Murdoch, and then Jones.

  A cold, light rain was falling, and a chilly wind was blowing through the trees, carrying a scent like pine and skunk. A complement of inhabitants, numbering twenty or so, stood beyond the dock in a clearing, shapelessly hidden under green, blue, and black rain ponchos.

  “Everyone, pleasant demeanor, no sudden movements, do as I do, do as I say,” Lear ordered. She strode forward. Strong sure steps, shoulders relaxed, hands in front. The shoreline was paved with roughly hewn stones forming a pathway into the clearing where the colonists were waiting for them.

  Armatrading turned to the others. “Pleasant demeanor, no sudden movements, follow the Commander’s example.” Jones had a feeling that Basil’s stabilizers were going to malfunction on the return trip whenever a certain person went to the euphemism.

  Lear approached the group that was waiting, measuring her pace, neither too fast nor too slow, until she and the rest of the landing team stood just on the outside of the clearing where their reception party waited.

  “I am Executive Commander Goneril Lear of the Pathfinder Ship Pegasus,” she announced. “I come from the colony of Republic, in the 10 669 Pegasus System. These are my adjutants, Specialist Armatrading and Specialist American, also of my planet. This is my pilot, Flight Lieutenant Jones, of the planet Sapphire, and Specialist Murdoch of Republic, my medical technician.”

  One of the inhabitants stepped forward. She raised her hood, and showed herself to be Ciel, the First Advocate who had been communicating with them the whole time. “Welcome, on behalf of the Inner Circle. Please, tell us why have you come here.”

  “Our mission is peaceful. We are looking for the other colonies of the Galactic Commonwealth, our brothers and sisters throughout the galaxy. There are thousands of colonies, like yours, spread across the stars. We are seeking them out, trying to re-establish contact.”

  Before she finished, the clouds opened up and gray-green rain lashed out of them. Squalls were rolling in from the lake.

  “Perhaps we should take this inside,” Ciel suggested. She gestured for the landing party to precede them down the pathway toward a large two or three story building, the oblong structure they had seen from above. Despite efforts to harmonize it with the surroundings, the edifice jutted from the landscape like a gravestone in a meadow. It was circular, all gray stone and timber except for one quarter, a wedge, that was dark glass from roof to ground. Jones thought it curious that the glass section faced neither the mountains nor the lake, but other thoughts pre-occupied the others. Murdoch, for one, could not shake the uncomfortable feeling he was being stared at.

  Four exceptionally large women wearing what looked like body armor guarded the doors.

  From their humorless expressions, it was easy to tell that they were security guards. One of these women wrapped a meaty hand on the metal crossbar and opened the large, ancient double doors. She stood aside and held them open, waiting for the party to enter inside.

  Another one of the guards ushered them through. Several more women waited inside, staring at the visitors with undisguised curiosity as they entered.

  Suddenly, the landing party heard arguing breaking out, frantic hisses and whispers toward the back of the group. Lear turned to see that three women had converged on Ciel, and were heatedly whispering about something.

  “Stay,” Ciel called out. The Landing Party stopped. Ciel moved forward from between the cabal of arguers. She pointed at Murdoch. “That man, what function does he provide?”

  “He is … my medical technician,” Lear answered smoothly. She had practiced this. “He is unarmed. You may search him if you wish.”

  The women convened again. More frantic whispering. Ciel emerged. “He may enter the Chamber of the Inner Circle, but he will sit behind you, not at the table.” Lear hesitated for only a moment, then said, “Agreed.”

  With that settled, they were led inside through an entrance that bulged on the side opposite the glass atrium, and found themselves in a rather dank smelling hallway that led upward in a lazy spiral. The passageway was lined with offices and rooms. The air had a stale taste to it, as though the building had not been opened for a long time.

  They were escorted into a largish auditorium on the top-level. It was paneled in dark wood with a kind of moss-colored carpet on the floor. There were two semi-circles of heavy wooden chairs arranged behind three long, curving tables in the center.

  As their hosts stripped out of their rain ponchos, the Landing Party realized that every one of them was female, mostly middle-aged women, rather plain overall. The entire Inner Circle, the Supreme Council of this planet, was made up of women. Lear’s mind raced through the possibilities. This planet was ruled by women, unless the sexes had diverged and the men had their own counter-government. The Outer Circle?

  “What is this place?” Lear asked.

  “Fond Glacine,” an owlish, gray-haired woman, not Ciel, answered. “In the past, it was used as a place for negotiations among the various provinces. Representatives were sent here, far from the distractions of provincial life, to settle their differences. That was before the circles unified our people. Now, it is used as a retreat for the Inner Circle.”

  “Rarely, at that,” offered another woman taking her seat.

  “It is a privilege, we are honored that you would receive us here,” Lear’s voice dripped with well-rehearsed sincerity.

  “This location keeps us safely remote from the prying eyes of the general population,” Ciel added. “It takes more than a day to travel to this location by airship, and it is inaccessible by ground transport, which made it ideal for… ” Ciel broke off suddenly, grabbed Lear’s sleeve and gave her a hard look. “Why your clothing isn’t even wet.”

  “Water repellant fabric,” Lear explained.

  “Yet it’s so soft. You really are an advanced civilization.” She walked to the front of the table, and removed two ornamental rods, one gold, and one silver. She handed the silver one to Lear. “Our custom is that who holds the scepter may speak. One for your people, and one for ours.”

  Lear took the scepter in her hands, it was heavy, unornamented, and very old.

  “This will be your table,” one of t
he Inner Circle women announced, placing both fists down on the tabletop. “We are sending for water and food.” Ciel took a position at the center of one of the tables. Lear realized that she would have to lean over to face their hosts, and this position was likely to become uncomfortable after a while. Ciel struck the tabletop with her gold scepter. “I, Ciel, First Advocate of the Inner Circle, convene this Special Council. May The Goddess and Her Daughter Vesta guide our path.”

  She waved the scepter toward Lear. “The matter before us concerns these others. They claim to be our sisters from across the stars, and they claim to extend to us a hand of peace and friendship. The issue before us, do we take that hand.”

  “There are three views to be presented here. A minority of the Circle says ‘Bid them welcome.’ A minority says, ‘Send them away.’ The rest have not yet decided. We shall give our visitors the chance to speak first, to make their case. Visitors, the Circle bids you speak.” Lear stood, and tried to strike a pose that was at once humble and confident. She didn’t quite pull it off. “So that I might know who it is I have the honor of addressing, is this the former human colony known as ‘Esmerelda.’”

  “Esmerelda?” A look crossed Ciel’s face, bemusement was part of it, and a kind of embarrassed surprise. “That term hasn’t been used since the time of the Patriarchy. I would be surprised if more than one woman in a thousand even knew of that name. No, for over two thousand years, this world has been known as Bodicéa.”

  “Esmerelda died with Patriarchy, and a new world was born,” said another woman eagerly.

  “A better world,” someone rejoined.

  Ciel tapped her golden rod against the tabletop. “I hold the scepter. I will speak now. The Dissent will extend every courtesy to our visitors. Goneril Lear, you will continue.”

  “We come to you from two planets in the Pegasus sector. Our worlds, like yours, have been alone in the night these five thousand years. We have struggled hard, and we have achieved great things, interstellar space flight comfort and prosperity, technology, art, literature. We now …”