Treaty at Doona

by Anne McCaffrey

  “Right you are. I’ll be ready,” said Ken cheerfully, and signed off.

  “I’ll go get him,” Kiachif said, rising from his seat. “My skiff’s faster’n any naval shuttle and I want another look, leer, and laying of a lens on that big ship. See if I can’t get any more on her, if you get my meaning. Back in a ten-count.” The Codep captain nodded to Castleton and the Admiral, and left the room.

  “Until Dad arrives and we can proceed with a first contact,” Todd said, once the door shut behind Kiachif, “we must not make any moves which the . . . visitors could consider antagonistic or hostile. No more scans, no probes, no drones. They could think that latter two were weapons.”

  “Let’s not be overcautious, Mr. Reeve,” Captain Castleton said, studying the image of the ship in the holoscreen. “Their range of power fluctuations alone invites closer investigation. Surely if they’re the advanced beings you speculate they are, they’d expect us to try and uncover any information about them that we could, short of intrusive hardware.”

  “Who knows what they’d consider intrusive?” Todd asked. “Beings more sensitive than our two races might find probe scan painful. Do I have to remind anyone here of the Siwannah Tragedy? No. Well, then. You’ve already done enough remote scans.” He didn’t add “for all the good it did.”

  “I would feel better if I had more on them than the long-range data my passive telemetry picked up,” Castleton said. “To quote an ancient Earth philosopher, ‘It is a mistake to theorize in advance of facts.’ ”

  Jon Greene was beginning to find the endless beating of the air dull and purposeless. The Doonarralans—wasn’t that a word?—babbled against logical research that would help guarantee safety for their own people, not to mention the ships orbiting around their planet. Any part of that huge ship out there could conceal weapons. It didn’t make sense to remain uninformed when useful data could be picked up as easily as vacuuming space dust. He wished he could recall under what circumstances he had seen that sort of vessel before. Castleton looked annoyed, and rightly so, with civilians usurping the appropriate naval roles in this sort of contact.

  Barnstable gave him a glance and pushed his clipboard across the table to him. Greene picked it up and read the note the Admiral had discreetly added amidst the leviathan’s readings. “Send probe.” Greene erased the words and entered a random jotting of his own. He stood up.

  “Permission to be excused, sir?” Greene asked, coming to attention.

  Barnstable glanced up briefly from the discussion, and waved a hand. “Go ahead, son. I’ll call you if I need you.”

  “Aye, sir. Captain, may I see you outside?”

  Castleton looked surprised, but followed him out of the room. Greene escorted her a few meters from the door and automatically checked the corridor before he spoke.

  “Sir, the Admiral asks if you will authorize launching a telemetry probe at the intruder.”

  Castleton looked down at her feet a moment before her shoulders relaxed a degree from their tight set. When she tipped her head up again, she wore an expression of relieved approval.

  “Reeve’s overcautious, Greene. Personally, I’d feel better with more data about that leviathan on hand. The distance scanners aren’t giving us much to go on. This way.” He followed her to a waiting ’vator car. “Level four,” she said.

  On an impulse, Greene stood closer to her than necessary in the small chamber and was surprised and pleased that Castleton didn’t seem to mind. He was even more encouraged when she returned his smile.

  * * *

  A Gringg in the cargo-bay operations room of the gigantic spaceship watched on a view screen as a tiny metallic cylinder floated casually in the direction of the bow of their ship. He leaned lazily over and touched the key of the intercom with a long claw.

  “Captain?” He knew he would find her in the bathing room. “The others have begun to acknowledge us. They are sending something toward our ship. I estimate it will be here within the hour. It is very small and does not seem to be armed. Shall I take it aboard?”

  Splashing echoed in the background, and the sounds of other Gringg conversing provided a pleasant hum; then the smooth, rich voice of the captain came out of the speaker. “Do, please, and inform me when you have it. I’ll come down to examine it.”

  * * *

  “Captain? Ken Reeve is here,” the bosun informed Grace Castleton, “with Captain Kiachif.”

  “Show them in.”

  Conversation around the ready room table halted as the bosun stood to one side to allow the two men to enter.

  Grace Castleton would have known Reeve anywhere as Todd’s father. Both men were rangy and taller than average, with big shoulders and long arms, and both had a cap of smooth black hair cut straight across the forehead over decidedly stubborn features. Ken’s hair was somewhat thinner, and there was more gray in it than in Todd’s. Lines had been graven by time in his fair-skinned face, but he exuded the same boyish enthusiasm that his son did. With a new adventure arising, years fell away. He might have been the same youthful jack-of-all-trades who had landed on Doona with a handful of tyro colonists more than thirty years ago.

  “Hello, friends! Speaker Hrrto, Admiral Barnstable,” Ken said, coming over to clasp hands and bow respectfully to the Hrrubans. He pounded companionably on his son’s shoulder.

  Ken slid into the empty seat beside Hrrestan.

  “Well, anything happen while Kiachif and I were on our way up?” He looked around the table, which bore the remains of a recent light meal. “He’s filled me in on the discussion. We’re still going to make the contact?”

  “We’ll have to, Dad; they’re not making any move,” Todd said. “Captain, could we have a rerun of the tapes for my father?”

  “I was about to suggest that,” she replied and toggled the board for the replay.

  Watching the tape with keen eyes, Ken whistled softly as he read the telemetry codes around the image of the ship.

  “So we know very little about our friends over there.” Ken heard a soft snort but couldn’t tell who had it come from. “Not friends?”

  “That has yet to be established,” Barnstable said in a neutral voice.

  “By me,” Ken said with a grin.

  “By us, Dad,” and Todd indicated the other volunteers of the first-contact group.

  “Can it be established if they’re oxygen-breathers?” Ken asked. “We’ll need to know how to dress for our meeting.”

  “Can’t even establish that, Dad,” Todd replied.

  “Just like you to volunteer for a blind mission,” Ken said in a mock-disgusted tone.

  “Begging the captain’s pardon,” Commander Greene said, watching the codes change on the main viewscreen. “There’s data coming through right now.”

  “Put it up, Commander Greene,” said Captain Castleton.

  “More data?” Todd asked, startled even as he scanned the new readings. “Where did you get it?”

  “From a robot probe,” Greene said.

  “What?” Todd demanded, sitting angrily upright. “Who authorized the launch?” He stared accusingly at Greene.

  “I did,” Barnstable replied, his face reddening at Todd’s imperious tone. “For the safety of all of us, including our Hrruban allies, I felt it was vital we obtain more information.”

  “Admiral,” Todd said in a restrained tone, “I specifically requested that there be no more probes, drones, or even scans until we were ready to proceed with the first contact.”

  Barnstable narrowed his eyes to glare at Todd. “Until proven otherwise, this is a Spacedep matter, young man. I am acting in the interest of safety for all the sentient beings on this ship. I don’t need your permission to proceed.”

  “This is Doonan space,” Todd said. It made him furious that this bureaucrat would take a unilateral action that might endanger the whole mission
. Hrrestan, who hated the high-handedness of Spacedep, would back him up.

  “We must not show distrust,” Hrriss agreed.

  “We do not know if those aboard that vessel arrre worthy of trust,” Hrrto reminded him sharply.

  “Nor do we know they are not, Speaker,” Hrrestan said with equal asperity.

  “In any case,” Castleton said, raising her voice to put an end to the argument, “the probe only transmitted readings for a short time. They stopped the moment the ship took the probe aboard.”

  Todd struggled to control his vexation. “It probably stopped sending readings because they disabled it, thinking it might be a bomb.”

  “If they have not by now discovered its . . . benign”—Greene drawled the adjective, staring at Todd—“purpose, then they’re by no means as sophisticated a species as you like to think them.” Greene was rather pleased with that shot at the officious Doonarralan. He felt malicious glee at Todd’s surprise.

  Todd knew he’d been outmaneuvered there, but a soft touch on the back of his arm came as a quiet warning from Ken not to pursue the point. His father, better than anyone else in the galaxy, knew how hard it was to control the infamous Reeve temper, and how much damage it could do when let loose. Normally Todd was in control, but the combination of Spacedep’s xenophobia and the unknown potential orbiting his beloved home planet was enough to put him at his worst. He reminded himself that he was one step away from a great adventure, equal to that when his father spotted the first Hrrubans near the earliest settlement over thirty years ago. These narrow-minded people did not, could not, understand the sheer joy of reaching out to another race, joining the far, cold reaches of the galaxy together in friendship. He had to be on that ship first, no matter what. It was a longing as strong as love. He glanced back and nodded at Ken to show he was under control.

  “Let’s see what the probe did transmit,” Castleton said, settling down once more behind the table.

  Greene pulled open the hatch over one of the inset consoles. He punched in a code. The view changed to a much closer image of the great ship, which steadily filled more and more of the screen. An overlay of white characters sprang up, constantly changing as the readings altered.

  “We deployed a Mark 24-M probe with advanced sensors,” Greene calmly announced. “As you can see from the metallurgical report, the alien defense shields are very strong. Most of the inner core of the ship resonates as a power plant. It’s well insulated, with main conduits running down the pith of that central pillar. There are power fluctuations that build up from half a megawatt to over five gigawatts. My estimate is that the strangers are prepared to attack with some sort of electrical weapon.”

  “So far, your assumption about their intentions is speculation,” Ken said. “The ship masses heavy. What’s in it?”

  Greene pointed to the relevant data. “Mostly water.”

  “Water? You mean H20? What kind of beings are there inside?”

  “Big. Look at the readings. There’s one weighing two hundred thirty kilos.”

  “Individuals?” Ken asked, amazed. Greene nodded.

  Jilamey whistled. “They’re as big as Momma Snakes.”

  “That’d explain the power requirements, if you follow me,” Kiachif said. “Maintaining mass gravity for massive beasties.”

  “Or for quick power-ups on the weapons systems,” Greene added.

  Todd shook his head in vehement denial.

  On the screen, a circular opening appeared in the side of the ship, gleaming silver against the blackness. The little probe’s eye moved into it, giving an impression of a vast entry area and a quick view of some kind of computer console, and then the screen went blank.

  “That’s all there is. As you can see, once it entered the ship, it stopped sending,” Greene said, “There is no visual of the inhabitants.”

  Barnstable rewound the report and started it from the beginning. Stroking his chin, he studied the screen closely. “Wonder what they’re using all that water for? Ballast? Weapon storage?”

  “Nonssenssse!” said Hrrestan, hissing his sibilants. “This is all speculation. In any case, it isn’t a destroyer of any kind. There’s no armament to speak of aboard. No rrradiation patterns which to me would indicate dangerrrous or powerrrful orrrdnance.”

  Castleton scratched her cheek thoughtfully. “I’m just as glad they haven’t returned our compliment. The Hamilton’s considered a peaceful ship, but we do have small lasers and missiles. I wonder if they’ve scanned us telemetrically.”

  “We prrrove we arre peaceful by ze composition of our landing prrrty,” Hrriss said.

  “All I hope is they don’t think the probe was some kind of threat,” Todd said grimly.

  “Wish I knew what sort of survival equipment we need,” Ken mused aloud.

  “May I suggest,” Ali Kiachif spoke up helpfully, “the fullest rig and gear the Hamilton has to offer?”

  * * *

  Capturing the small unit proved to be no trouble at all, for which the technician was grateful. Like all Gringg, he hated to expend unnecessary effort on any task. The captain, a magnificent female of their species, entered the cargo bay accompanied by her small son, a curious lad of eight Revolutions, and the chief engineer, a female of many Revolutions and much experience. The three of them sat down in a semicircle on the floor near the console. The technician retrieved the little device, hoisting it lightly by one arm. He set it down on the floor and settled opposite the captain.

  “I have decontaminated it, but you will be pleased to know that I found no dangerous organic substances on it or within. It makes a noise,” the technician pointed out, indicating the subspace receiver on his console. “I believe it to be a message of some sort.”

  “How kind!” the Gringg captain declared. “Ghollarrgh, I am so relieved to find that these people did not attack us upon sight. Homeworld will be pleased. We must try to answer it, an unprovoking message. They must see us as being completely peaceful. Match the frequency, and we will attempt to translate. Grrala”—she turned to the engineer— “you should try to construct a similar device so that we may send them our compliments in return.”

  “In time, Captain.” The engineer yawned. “In good time. Now, may we see how this little toy works?”

  Eager to please, the technician began to display the workings of the ship-sent device.

  * * *

  Aboard the Hamilton, the shuttle was being made ready for departure. Todd and Ken were fitted out with tough transparent pressure suits. An attempt was made to find one which would accommodate Hrriss’ tail, but nothing could be adapted in the short time allowed. In the end, Hrriss decided to simply stuff the caudal appendage down one pant leg and be done with the problem.

  “I’m satisfied,” Todd said, fastening the last seal on his suit. “The three of us should be able to handle any situation that comes up—or get out fast if it looks chancy.”

  “I want some personnel from Spacedep to accompany you,” Admiral Barnstable insisted. “This is still a matter under my jurisdiction, whether or not I go along with your interpretation. I’ve got a couple of volunteers out of Castleton’s crew, one from xeno and one from medical. And I’m sending my assistant to be my eyes and ears: Commander Greene.”

  Todd suppressed his reaction to that unwelcome news. The last thing he needed was the inclusion of a xenophobic Spacedep regular, but he conceded with as good a grace as he could manage. “All right. Have them suit up and meet us in the launch bay.”

  “Hrruba must also send an observer,” said Second Speaker, after a quick conference with Mllaba.

  “We’ve already got a Hrruban in the party,” Barnstable said, glowering at Second. “Hrriss.”

  “I am willing to go,” Mllaba announced. “I intend to go,” she added.

  Todd caught Hrriss’ gesture of ears-back, and shook his head.

&nb
sp; “Six is more than enough for a first-contact team,” he said carefully. “More could be considered hostile. In fact, six might be considered too many.”

  “Will you not trust me, Speaker?” Hrriss asked softly in High Hrruban, seeking to smooth things over before the argument put an end to the mission. “I will uphold Hrruban honor.”

  Hrrto studied the younger male, who gazed at him earnestly. He grunted. “It is not a matter of trust, Hrriss. I did but think to give you the support of another among all these Hayumans.”

  “One of them is my brother,” Hrriss said, “as well you know.”

  Hrrto, forgetting his argument with the Hayuman admiral, dropped his jaw in a smile. “I have known this for many years, young Hrriss. Very well, a Hrruban and a half-Hrruban. I simply did not wish Hrruba to be disadvantaged.”

  “None shall see it that way. They shall believe that only one Hrruban—and a half—is needed to balance out any number of Hayumans,” Hrriss said innocently. Behind Second Speaker, he could see Todd and Ken grinning at his quip. They were the only ones who understood the brief conversation.

  “I believe it may be so,” Second Speaker replied at last. He retired, with Mllaba and Hrrestan, to the reception room beyond the blast doors. Ken gave them a thumbs-up.

  “I’d like to go,” Jilamey spoke up unexpectedly. “As an independent observer. On behalf of Earth.”

  Just how much High Hrruban did Jilamey Landreau understand? Todd wondered.

  Barnstable glared at Jilamey. Although the young man’s uncle was no longer head of Spacedep, the name Landreau was a prestigious one on the human homeworld. Barnstable looked for a moment as if he were about to say no, until he took a closer look at the obstinate expression on the younger man’s face. Jilamey himself was not without influence on the Amalgamated Worlds Council. If the Admiral refused him permission, there could be endless small roadblocks for funding in the future, and unfavorable reports in the press about his administration. If he agreed, it might conceivably work out to Spacedep’s advantage. In spite of his flamboyant wardrobe and occasionally foolish mien, Jilamey was known for his shrewd and observant mind.