by C. R. Daems
Plimson rose after Hanzel had returned to the table. “This board is hereby suspended pending a review of the Leopard’s Black Box, the recordings on Gunny Terril’s SID, and the records compiled by the Intelligence group monitoring the Riss-humans. The review will be conducted by an independent committee appointed by this board.” With that, Plimson and the members exited the bay.
* * * *
“Well what do you think, Nadya?” Elissa asked after we’d assembled back in the conference room.
I felt her amusement.
“We have nothing to be ashamed of or to be held accountable for. We will be released as soon as the board announces its finding. Thalia pointed out that although those wanting to get rid of us have succeeded, it will not be without a price—probably very expensive. I personally believe there will never be another Riss-human program. They and we have learned that human prejudice would doom it to failure, because they are too paranoid to permit Riss-humans to exist without some easy way to recognize us—like the current tattoo. If we are to see the stars, we must start at the beginning. We need to find a way to generate money, then a method for the Riss to communicate with humans, tools Riss can use and facilities to build and assemble our first working shuttles, then...” I was making it up as I went along but it sounded logical and doable, although the time frame would stretch over centuries. Zann laughed and was soon joined by the rest.
“Just like humans progressed over the centuries. So simple when stated out loud, yet human arrogance would make it impossible for them to believe that Riss could accomplish such a feat. I’m afraid I too fell into that trap. I’ve lived among them long enough to start thinking like them. I immediately thought the failure of the Riss Program would doom the Riss to Saipha forever. You’re well suited for your position, Nadya. It amazes me, although it shouldn’t, how the Riss can sustain a civilization without a government and without a hierarchism,” Zann said with a shake of her head. “I have to leave now. I’ve been assigned to the committee reviewing the material, and they plan to meet within the next hour. It should be several days before the results are announced. Relax, this should be over soon.”
* * * *
I spent the days with the other Riss-humans in the army area working out, dining in their mess, and talking with people. Ironically, many of the army troops were interested in the Riss and us. Terril made me even more popular with her tales about our adventures on Saipha and the Riss enclave. Although I felt a sense of relief, the tension on the Bateleur hung in the air like an approaching storm. Late on the sixth day, the board announced the inquiry would commence at 0900 hours the next day.
Chapter 9
Everyone involved in the inquiry, some two hundred spectators, plus a detail of Red Beret Wasps, were assembled in one of Bateleur's shuttle bays, which had been emptied for the occasion. Promptly at 0900 hours, the board members entered and took their places at the table. Vice Admiral Youell rose and the room assumed a deathly silence. He looked around before speaking.
“The Riss Project group, which was my responsibility, made several terrible mistakes, starting with tattooing the Riss-humans. Unintentionally, we branded them as something alien and suspicious. Furthermore, we failed to see the need to indoctrinate the crews with whom they were to serve or to screen out those among us who are intolerant. Lastly, we didn’t anticipate the extent of the weakness of the men and women we’ve appointed as leaders. I’ve seen and heard things that make me ashamed to admit I promoted some of these people.
“Fortunately, there were a few who give me hope for the future. They recognized the Riss as gentle peace-loving people and not the monsters too many sought to make them. But in the end, we, the citizens of the SAS, must accept the responsibility for wrecking the Riss Project and suffer the consequences.
“And yes, there will be consequences. I have seen the contributions the Riss have made in both navigational mathematics and missile targeting. We will never know what other contributions they may have provided. After our unprovoked hate and fear reaction to the Riss, I fear for the consequences should we ever encounter another alien race.” He sat, his eyes downcast, and his posture reflecting his feelings of regret and disappointment. After several minutes, Vice Admiral Zann rose.
“I owe the Riss an apology. I hope in time, they will forgive me. I meant to get them the recognition they deserve as an intelligent, civilized race. Not once in a thousand years has a Riss killed another Riss nor sought revenge from those human who considered them animals to be hunted. They wished to be our ally, with no desire for money, fame, or power. I share Vice Admiral Youell’s concerns for our future.” She opened her mouth to say something, then shook her head and sat without further comment.
< I hate it when you’re not amused.>
After what seemed like hours, Admiral Plimson rose.
“We have all made mistakes. Vice Admiral Youell has taken responsibility for the failure of the Riss Program. Vice Admiral Zann has taken responsibility for failing the Riss. But neither of them intentionally meant to hurt anyone. They were trying to integrate an alien race into the SAS. However, others did mean to hurt and to sabotage the project. In the process, they disgraced their uniform and the SAS. These actions can’t go unpunished. The injured deserve justice even though it will change nothing. We must understand that our decisions have consequences and that we must bear the responsibilities for those consequences.
“Lieutenants Betit, Lonzo, Obrist, and Mette are hereby sentenced to the Cerberus for the rest of their lives. I personally hope they live a long time.” Plimson paused to let the whispering die down. “The following officers are dishonorably released from military service with cause and forfeit all rights and privileges associated with their military service: Wuffraat, Panella, Verdi, Belercor, Vivens...”
The list of punishments seemed to go on forever. Captains, commanders, lieutenants, and enlisted personnel were forced to retire, reduced in rank, or had a letter of misconduct placed in their file, effectively eliminating any chance for promotion for years. Ironically, no army personnel were on the list. Nothing, however, changed what had happened—everyone just had a bad experience. And although Colonel Seng and Gunny Terril were given letters of commendation for their part in saving my life, there were no winners, only losers.
* * * *
Before I and the other Riss-humans could leave, Plimson approached our table.
“You are free to leave any time you wish; however, I would ask you, as a personal favor, to meet with me in the conference room for lunch.”
“Yes, sir. We would be honored,” I said, thinking about the kindness he’d always shown me. Then I realized I’d made the decision for everyone without asking them. I was about to apologize when Thalia stopped me.
It felt like she’d just proved a theorem. Well, maybe she did. One’s position in the Riss was one’s position. You served where the Riss thought you would not only be of the most benefit to the Riss but also the most comfortable.
When we entered the room with Plimson, Youell and Zann were already seated at the table. The three admirals sat on one side of the table and me and the others selected chairs on the other side, facing them. The talk during lunch was mostly small talk about the planets we came from and our early experiences. It was a relaxing time with the admirals sharing their early backgrounds and experiences. Plimson and Youell had come from wealthy families and had attended Prometheus and Hephaestus; Zann has started as enlisted and never attended either school.
Right after I finished the thought, Vice Admiral Youell cleared his throat. Silence descended upon the room like on a misty moor.
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“There is nothing I can say that will undo what has been done, and there is no reason that any of you should ever consider another Riss-human project. I’m pleased that each of you has decided to keep your partnership with the Riss. In a way, that has been a success. Vice Admiral Zann has made it clear that the Riss were never seeking human hosts and that the Riss Project was only a means to demonstrate the value of a Riss alliance.
“And although the project has been terminated, it has proved a success as far as the three of us are concerned. From what I’ve been told, the Riss have developed a new mathematical system that significantly improves our navigation and tactical capability. They were instrumental in helping track and defeat raiders, and we have a better idea of the potential alliance with the Riss in the future. All hard-earned successes.”
When Youell stopped, Plimson seemed to come out of a trance.
“Vice Admiral Youell is correct. There have been significant successes thanks to your endurance and determination to help the Riss reach their goal. Admirals aren’t suppose to beg; however, I’m willing to beg if we can find some way to continue to build on these successes.” He looked around the room. I could see my friends shaking their heads in the negative. They’d endured too much already and had been driven to their limits. If I hadn’t terminated the Riss Project, each of them would have been broken in spirit and quit within the year. I’d terminated the project because Riss-humans couldn’t survive under the handicap the SAS had saddled us with, however…
Thalia’s laugh echoed through me as Zann’s laughter shattered the quiet.
“What is so funny, Zann? I’m serious,” Plimson said while glaring at her.
“Oh yes, Admiral. Thalia and Reese have taken you at your word, and you are about to find out just how serious you are.” Zann laughed again.
“Yes, I’m serious. Reese would you explain your proposal, since Zann is too damned amused to talk?”
“Yes, sir. Admiral Youell is correct that there have been several successes that have proved the Riss would be a valuable ally. They’ve introduced a mathematical system, Symath, and that increased our missile effectiveness and will in time redefine navigational mathematics. Both these contributions have been proved effective in battle and twice enabled us to defeat an enemy of superior strength. Equally important, they have helped find and engage the raiders. In the past the SAS’s few contacts with them has been by accident. And they have proved their loyalty to the SAS.” I paused. Zann had stopped laughing but her body was shaking with amusement. My fellow Riss-humans were now staring at me.
“I have developed a feel for the way the raiders think and understand what we are looking for. They’re not just a group of raiders to be found and destroyed. They are a nation of clans, who have the knowledge, capability, and facilities to build cruisers closely comparable to the SAS cruisers. That can be deduced from the fact they’ve begun operating in packs. It can also mean they’re testing the SAS. If I’m correct, the raiders are in a race with the SAS and could approach parity in the foreseeable future. Part of the problem of finding the raiders is that you are being hindered by spies, who are part of your crews on many of the SAS cruisers. There is at least one on the Leopard.” I stopped, waiting for their reaction.
“You say they are clans with their own planet and production capacity?” Plimson said, somewhat in disbelief. “And, these clans have spies serving in the SAS?”
“Yes, several attempts on my life and deliberate ‘accidents’ prove the SAS has spies on its spaceships. The fact that the raiders can replace the cruisers we have destroyed and have merchant ships spying for them, proves that they have an extensive production capacity. And my experience with the captives on Saipha lead me to believe their refusal to cooperative, even to save their lives, speaks to clan loyalty.”
“So to eliminate the threat, we need to find their home planet or planets. And you are suggesting what?” Plimson asked, while leaning forward.
“Dedicate a Hunter class cruiser to the Riss, and we will help you find and destroy the raiders.” I got no immediate response. After a minute, Youell began chuckling. Now Zann had gone serious. Plimson and my Riss-human friends just stared at me.
“A cruiser dedicated to the Riss. What does that mean?” Plimson asked with a frown. But he continued before I could answer. “Never mind. Let us adjourn for today. After this morning, I’m not my best. We’ll meet back here tomorrow at 0900 hours.”
Chapter 10
My Riss-human friends had lot of questions after the admirals left. I did my best to outline my still-developing plan. We stayed up half the night talking. The next morning after breakfast, we returned to the conference room. The three admirals were already there, having their own conference. After we had taken our seats, Plimson looked up with a slight smile.
“Al lright, Reese, what did you mean when you said to dedicate a Hunter to the Riss?”
“The prejudice we each encountered over the past few years was so intense and prevalent because we were isolated; therefore, those who feared or hated the Riss-human concept had an easy target they could focus on. And we had no support system to help protect us. A ship that had a large number of Riss and Riss-humans aboard would negate many of those problems. We would quickly be seen as crew. And, it would have the advantage of integrating the Riss into the SAS at an accelerated rate. If you really want to determine what kind of an ally the Riss will make, here is your chance,” I said, while studying the three Admirals. Ironically, Zann would follow any decision I made—I spoke for the Riss and, therefore, Zann. I thought Youell would like the Riss Project to continue. The project had produced some interesting benefits and had the potential for more. Plimson on the other hand was responsible for the decision and the consequences—not Zann or Youell. He had to consider the overall good of the navy: its effectiveness, morale, safety of its warships, and potential benefits and disadvantages.
“And why do you think you can find the raiders?” Plimson asked. He looked interested or maybe just amused as he picked up his cup of kaffa and leaned back in his chair, his eyes focused on me.
“Admiral,” Youell said before I could answer, “as the Riss Project manager, I’ve talked with Commander Wang, Captain Gebauer, Captain Jordanno, and others after each assignment. They all agree Reese was instrumental in identifying the clues which led to the engagements with the raiders at Tamerland and Lords Landing. Wang acknowledges Reese’s discovery that the merchant ship Compton as the raider’s source of target information constituted a major breakthrough. I know we can’t guarantee she will find the raiders, but I believe she seems be our best hope.”
“I agree with Youell. Furthermore, I think Reese on some level seems to understand the raiders, which has helped her to anticipate their moves. And if she’s right about them being clans and testing our strength, the situation is more urgent than just catching or destroying a few raiders,” Zann added. Plimson hadn’t taken his gaze off me the whole time.
“All right—” Plimson immediately held up his hand. “I will agree to put together a committee to hash out a preliminary proposal on how this could be accomplished. Based on that proposal, I’ll make a decision.
* * * *
“Nadya, what do you think Plimson will do?” Petar asked, during breakfast six days later. The committee, of which I was a part, had completed the proposal two days ago and presented it to Plimson yesterday. He’d said he’d take it under advisement.
“I don’t know, but I suspect he’ll make a decision soon. There are six cruisers orbiting Saipha for this conference. Every day they remain here there are jobs going undone. Plimson has got to be getting pressure from Eden and others to release them back to duty. If he agrees to the proposal, there will be further delays. That could be the deciding factor, or it could be t
he uproar it will cause if he agrees to it, or...” There were many factors for Plimson to consider and they weren’t all military.
“In other words, the merits of the proposal may not matter,” Jaelle said.
“In other words, I wouldn’t want to be in Admiral Plimson’s shoes.”
An evil laugh, if I ever felt one.
* * * *
I sat in the Bateleur’s conference room with Plimson, Zann, Youell, the Captains and army commanders of the six ships orbiting Saipha, and two lieutenants, who I suspected were there to take notes and run errands. I was the only one in civilian clothes. Although the room hosted eighteen people, the silence was deafening. Plimson tapped on the table for attention, although it was unnecessary—he already had everyone’s undivided attention.
“By now, you have all heard about or participated in creating the Riss Proposal. I found it well thought out. Like all proposals, it requires a decision—one of those decisions that we all hope we never have to make. If it’s successful, I’m a genius. If it fails, I’m an idiot, or words to that effect. But whether you are a Captain or an Admiral, when the decision drops on your desk, you must admit it’s your responsibility alone no matter how you choose to reach the final decision. You can’t blame others even if you asked them for their advice or you asked your staff to vote on the issue.” Plimson paused. I knew it had been the toughest decision of his life. “I’ve decided to implement the Proposal.”