by S. H. Jucha
* * *
On the bridge, the four gathered around the holo-vid. Julien and Z were overlaying several telemetry sources to determine the UE shuttle’s precise trajectory and estimate its ultimate destination.
“Ser President, the shuttle is making for the terminal nearest Confederation Hall,” Julien announced.
“Will you look at that?” Tatia said with exaggeration. “The speaker is trying to force a meeting with the Council. Now how original a concept is that?” When Tatia received a dirty look from Alex, she burst out laughing.
Alex considered whether or not he should interfere with the shuttle’s flight and, in the meantime, began pacing the bridge. A favorite pastime of his close associates ensued. Tatia, Julien, and Z offered small favors as bets to determine how much time it would take Alex to hatch a plan. The time started with Alex’s first paced step and ended with his first word, oral or comm.
“Julien, get me Devon O’Shea,” Alex ordered. Devon was the House Leader responsible for planetside terminals and transportation.
Tatia and Z commiserated. Julien won as he often did, which didn’t stop the other two from trying to beat him. Apparently Julien was the better judge of his friend’s thought processes.
Devon O’Shea was conversing with House associates when Alex’s comm came through.
Devon considered Alex’s message and decided he didn’t want to be responsible for failing to protect his people. Too many grievous mistakes had been made in the name of abeyance.
Of course, it would be, Alex thought with chagrin, recalling the manager’s outrage about Alex’s unauthorized shuttle landing.
Tatia, who was linked into the comm as was Z, rolled her eyes at Orso’s comment. Devon’s comm closed, but Julien maintained their link to Ser Quinlan.
Alex replied.
May the stars protect us, thought Orso, who was so shaken by the concept that his thought leaked through his comm.
Alex’s final words caused Orso to jump out of his chair even though the next thing he had to do was sit back down and begin issuing orders to his controller. He declared a terminal emergency, which authorized him to direct the transport cars as he needed and evacuate the premises. Workers came in from the landing zones, ushering passengers and shuttle crews back inside. One shuttle, a traveler, was cleared for takeoff and was allowed to leave. It rose swiftly and silently, quickly clearing the airspace. Citizens received evacuation directives from the terminal’s controller and moved to obey. The procession of people to the lower levels was orderly and civilized — they depended on the Confederation to ensure their safety. Transport cars arrived. People aboard the cars were informed of the emergency and made room for those exiting the terminal, filling the transports to their limits.
Z linked into the controller’s vid security system and kept running displays on the Rêveur’s bridge screens of the terminal’s interiors, dedicating a portion of the left vid screen to a view of the terminal’s landing fields. People filled the lifts, descending to the transport levels, when the exterior vid cam showed the Earther shuttle landing. Alex and his people were surprised that the shuttle did not require the runway. It came perilously close to the terminal and the pilot transitioned smoothly from primary engine power to enormous fans, located in the shuttle’s stubby wings, directing their blast downward and allowing the vessel to hover. It was on the ground in moments.
* * *
It was ironic that the speaker wouldn’t know that he was the second invader of this particular terminal, Alex and his people having invaded it nine years earlier.
The terminal’s controller tracked the shuttle as it approached and notified the manager as it touched down. Orso Quinlan experienced a surreal sense of déjà vu. Checking his vid displays, he realized that there were still many citizens making their way through the terminal to the underground transport cars. Orso ordered the terminal doors to the landing fields left open as he was advised. Now, he could think of only one thing to do to ensure the citizens’ safety, and the thought frightened him to the point of hyperventilation. Slurping some water to calm his nerves, Orso donned and straightened his jacket and descended the lifts from his office to greet the Earthers.
Once the UE shuttle was firmly down, the speaker waited patiently for the pilot’s cue.
“Speaker García, the air checks out as fine,” the pilot announced. “However, we can’t be sure of pathogens. I would advise you to use filter masks.” Immediately, the speaker, major, and militia personnel donned black, full-face masks. Breathing slits were covered by an ultrafine mesh, which filtered fine particulate matter and directed the air to side chambers, which employed ultraviolet light to kill pathogens. The masks w
ere developed during the pacification of the outer colonies. Some colonists, in last stands against UE militia, flooded their domes and enclave corridors with deadly microorganisms, knowing full well they were signing the death warrants of every resident.
The major signaled a crew member, who opened the rear ramp, and the militia flooded out to set up a perimeter. When Major Barbas received the “all clear,” he and García descended the ramp into Méridien sunlight. To the speaker’s surprise, a slender, dapperly dressed, Méridien male with a pleasant, if nervous, smile on his face stood in the terminal’s open entranceway.
Z shifted the terminal’s exterior vid image to the Rêveur’s central screen. Dark-clad troops in face masks, carrying evil-looking rifles, were advancing on the terminal manager.
Orso didn’t know what was worse — his fear of the approaching Earthers or the feeling that he was sharing his body with another person. At least his bowels, which threatened to release, had stilled. Orso felt his smile ease, and as the troops stopped in front of him, he felt disembodied as he stepped to the side and gestured for the troops to enter. If that wasn’t strange enough, Orso spoke in a language he didn’t know but understood, “Welcome to Lemuel Terminal. I’m Ser Quinlan, the terminal manager. How may I assist you?”
García stared at the Méridien, one of the first he found that exhibited old age. “I am Speaker García, Ser Quinlan. Where is everyone?”
“The citizens decided to leave when they were advised of your approach, Speaker García,” Alex said, speaking through Orso’s implant. Alex would have loved to see the speaker’s face to gauge his reaction to their discussion, but the Earther’s mask was hiding everything.
“Why didn’t you leave, Ser Quinlan?” García asked.
“Old age, Ser. I’m not as quick as I used to be. Otherwise, I too would have been gone,” Orso said. Hearing the words come out of his mouth, Orso almost laughed at the impertinence he was exhibiting to heavily armed strangers. I’m braver than I thought, Orso thought, and Tatia smiled when she heard the Méridien’s thoughts.
“How may I help you, Sers?” Orso said.
“Where is your government’s headquarters?” García demanded.
“The location you seek, Sers, is Confederation Hall. It lies just a few kilometers in that direction,” Orso said, feeling his arm lift involuntarily and point the way.
“Major Barbas, check for an exit and commandeer us vehicles,” García ordered, waiting while the major hurried away with half the militia force.
Julien was attempting to remain neutral within the link, but as Alex reached deep into Orso’s implant connections, seeking control of the man’s nervous system to prevent the Méridien from hyperventilating, Julien could feel his own algorithms, which simulated his avatar’s breathing, responding to Alex’s commands. Now that is unique, Julien thought.
Major Barbas returned to the speaker at a run, shaking his head. “This is incredible, Speaker García,” he said. “There’s no exit.”
García closed on Orso and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket. “Do you take us for fools, Ser Quinlan,” he demanded.
“Of course not, Ser,” Orso heard himself say. “I merely pointed the direction to Confederation Hall, and I presumed you knew to take underground transport to reach the building. My apologies if you were uninformed of our ways. Allow me to lead you to your transport.”
Without waiting for an answer, Orso felt his body twist, pull free of the speaker’s grip, and begin walking across the terminal’s lobby toward the nearest lift. Orso sent and felt his body released into his own care, nearly stumbling as he took back control.
Alex was thinking furiously. His original plan was to exit everyone from the terminal, leaving the Earthers trapped in an empty building with no access to the outside or the transport cars, which were summoned only by Méridiens sending a request to the terminal’s controller. The quick descent by the Earthers had disrupted his plan. A request to Z told him that the last transport car was leaving, carrying away the last citizens from the terminal but the manager.
Orso sent and a giggle escaped his lips, which he covered with a hand.
Tatia found herself shaking her head and grinning. She couldn’t imagine relinquishing control of her body in this fashion to another human being. It made Ser Quinlan’s actions appear even braver — or more desperate. But then, she recalled the rumors that circulated about Alex and Renée. Alex’s ability to twine with his partner’s implant and affect Renée physically, even when they weren’t together, was the stuff of legends. Tatia once questioned Renée about it, but a smile and a wink were all she received in return.
Z immediately contacted the terminal controller and ordered a large enough transport to handle the entire Earther force.
Alex grinned at the thought of sending the Earthers on a transport route that would last days.
Tatia injected into the discussion.
Julien added.
allow quicker passenger loading and unloading, but only the forward doors were open. Confused as to the next steps, Orso relaxed and signaled Alex to take over his limbs again. His pace picked up, forcing the Earthers to hurry after him. “Come this way, Sers. I will accompany you to your destination. We mustn’t have our guests getting lost.” The absurdity of the last statement uttered by the president was almost too much for Orso to contemplate. There were no guests in the Confederation. Everyone was a citizen until Captain Racine arrived. Since then more and more centuries-held traditions were slowly eroding.
Orso watched as he led the Earthers through the first set of transport doors and walked the wide corridor to the rear. He plopped down in a seat next to the rear doors, the perfect image of a man prepared to take a trip. The Earther leader, who stood near him, turned around to ensure all his men were boarding the transport as if the trick was to leave them behind.
Z was monitoring the station’s transport vid cam, watching the militia board the car.
As the front car doors began to slide closed, Orso thought he should be moving, but he waited for the president’s guidance. The thought occurred to him that he was enjoying the manner in which he was handling the situation or rather the president was handling the situation. Then with an energy he hadn’t exerted in decades, the rear doors slid open, and he launched out through the opening. The doors closed so quickly behind him, he could feel a puff of breeze up his pants legs. The transport car pulled away from the station platform as Orso picked himself up, and he lifted an arm to wave goodbye to the Earthers, who stared at him through the car’s windows.
Alex replied.