by S. H. Jucha
When the invitees were assembled, Harbour stood and said, “Well, it’s been two hours since the Jatouche called to tell us they’ll be coming. I imagine, given that inordinate amount of time, all of you have managed to hear that by now.” Her comment produced a round of laughter from the audience. Most of them had heard the news within minutes of the call.
“This council’s purpose was to consider the means by which we’d support the Jatouche, if they came,” Harbour continued. “Now that’s no longer conjecture; we’ve got our work cut out for us. The Jatouche don’t know what we can do, and we don’t know exactly what they’re bringing or what they expect from us.”
Ituau raised her hand, Harbour recognized her, and the first mate asked, “Isn’t there a means by which we can exchange more information?”
“From what we’ve learned at the dome, first contacts are supposed to take place over time,” Jessie said, rising to answer the questions. “The only reason that this one is proceeding so quickly is that Her Highness Tacticnok and Jaktook were visibly shaken by the extent of damage caused to the planet during the Jatouche fight with the Gasnarians. They’re working quickly to help us, and I think it’s to prove to us that they’re worth knowing.”
“Toward what end?” an engineer asked.
“Good question,” Harbour replied. “Perhaps Tacticnok took a liking to a tall, male alien.”
The spacers and engineers chuckled at the thought of Tacticnok staring at Jessie with adoring eyes. The glance that Jessie gave Harbour definitely wasn’t the admiring type.
“Seriously,” Jessie said, calming the group. “The Jatouche are sailing this ship, and we need to act like good crew. They’ll inform us of our tasks. The council’s purpose is to anticipate the roles we might be asked to play so that we don’t take months to deliver each step.”
A Belle engineer raised her hand, and Jessie pointed to her. “We should consider transport first,” she said. “It’s important to give the Jatouche credit for their technical knowledge. Everything about them points to a superior race, and they’ve observed much about us already. You can figure they’ve seen our limitations and are taking steps to work with them.”
“And how does this affect transport?” Harbour asked, happy to have the discussion started.
“I suspect the device the Jatouche is going to build will be huge,” the engineer replied. “It won’t fit through the gate. That means they’ll bring the critical components, and we’ll be required to manufacture the more common and larger items.”
The engineer sat in the front row and had a good view of Harbour’s furrowed brow. “Apologies, Captain. What I’m trying to say is that the Jatouche will need to transport a significant number of parts and individuals, engineers and techs. I don’t see Captain Cinder’s ships accommodating the needs of the Jatouche too well.”
“Meaning the Belle should be considered the primary transport, when the Jatouche are ready,” Harbour said, her frown clearing and nodding appreciatively to the engineer. “Anything else?” Harbour asked.
“Yes, Captain, best work to prepare the YIPS personnel. They’re going to freak when the Jatouche swarm the station.” The woman’s comment elicited a rather disjointed response. Some laughed; others didn’t. Those who didn’t were wondering what they would do when they came face-to-face with the aliens.
“I can’t disagree with the suggestion about transport,” Jessie said, “which means the Belle will have to be ready to abandon Emperion, when the Jatouche arrive.”
The assembly members continued to discuss the problems, as they saw it. One of the significant obstacles they envisioned was interrupting the YIPS manufacturing schedule. Additionally, the interruption might require modification of the YIPS smelting furnaces and metal forming lines to create the parts the Jatouche required for their device. That would take time and cost coin.
The question of coin was an issue brought up by Leonard Hastings, when he said, “The Jatouche must cover a majority of the planet, with their devices, tagging the greatest hot spots. It’s going to take a good number of them. But, we haven’t considered the cost of these devices. Considering we have a capitalist system, somebody will have to provide the coin to pay the YIPS for the production of these devices.”
Another sticking question, as the assembly saw it, was how the pieces would be transported downside, through the dome, and reassembled on the surface. Spacers had worked in difficult conditions before, but the target areas on Pyre’s surface, where the devices would be planted, were extremely dangerous.
No one mentioned the governor’s reaction to the Jatouche arriving downside and traipsing through the domes. Most presumed that those tasks could be accomplished by humans.
The council adjourned at midday meal, with various jobs meted out to assess the issues and report back to the group. Harbour took the opportunity to invite the captains to dine with her in her quarters.
“It appears that every piece of the practical part of the puzzle, which falls in our lap is surmountable,” Leonard said. Some captains paced the salon, while others found a comfortable chair and waited for the meal to be served.
“That leaves the YIPS, the stationers, the commandant, the downsiders, and the lovely governor to deal with,” Yohlin countered.
“Yohlin has a good point,” Harbour said. “We can make all the preparations we want to get the Jatouche to the YIPS, but, after that, control gets flimsy. We haven’t the leverage to get the YIPS to do our bidding against the commandant and the governor’s wishes.”
Jessie sat for a few moments in a chair and got up to pour himself a cup of water. He drained the cup and sat down, his elbows planted on his knees and his hands propping his chin. “You’re right, we don’t,” he finally said. “But then, we aren’t the only ones who could benefit from a healed planet.”
“True, stationers would love to have the opportunity to have more than a tiny cabin,” Leonard agreed.
“And a nice garden, where they could grow fruit for themselves,” Yohlin said, wondering what delectable items from the hydroponic gardens would be served for the midday meal.
“And spacers,” Jessie added.
“Which is our leverage on the YIPS,” Harbour said excitedly. “If spacers were behind us, the YIPS could face a shortage of slush and ore, if management didn’t cooperate. And wealthy stationers would be thinking of their investments and the opportunities of opening the planet.”
“That would get us from transport through manufacturing,” Leonard said. “After that, we’d still have to deal with the governor and the families.”
“If there were enough impetus from stationers and spacers, the governor would be forced to deal,” Jessie said, pouring himself another cup of water. “We might not like the deal she offers, but we’ll have to wait and see what she puts on the table.”
“Then, I think the answer is to use Tacticnok’s updates and our broadcasts to build a visual of Pyre’s future with the help of the Jatouche,” Harbour said. “We’ll have to appeal to our people on multiple levels, including economic opportunities, an inhabitable planet, and an alliance with an advanced race.”
The other three captains might have argued with Harbour’s points, but their minds felt the enthusiasm and hope she emanated.
-25-
Recruitment
While the Belle and the Pearl filled their tanks with slush at Emperion, the Jatouche made several return trips to Triton. The bridge crew dutifully recorded each exchange. They were the fuel for Harbour’s broadcasts to Pyre, and she spent hours preparing announcements to amplify the exchange that would be sent systemwide to influence citizens’ opinions.
The Jatouche’s initial updates were general, in nature, but as technical questions were asked of Tacticnok, she brought scientists and engineers to provide the answers.
The Belle’s broadcasts developed a dual nature. On the one hand, the engineers’ technical explanations laid the foundation of Jatouche capabilities and indicated the feasi
bility of their plans. Harbour’s words sought to convince the citizenry, topsiders, spacers, and downsiders, of the value of cooperating with the aliens.
There were only two locations capable of systemwide communication that could reach every citizen, regardless of where they abided — station, ship, or downside. The Belle was one; the JOS was the other. Every broadcast that Harbour issued was followed by a rebuttal by Commandant Strattleford, who controlled the JOS Pyre-wide comm, and his diatribe was carefully crafted by Governor Panoy. It became a war of words and images for the minds of humans.
The governor and the commandant’s underlying message intended to foster doubt as to the aliens’ real motive. Incidentally, in the commandant’s broadcast, the word Jatouche was never mentioned. They were referred to as the aliens or the interlopers. The explanation for why the aliens wanted to help Pyre was that they coveted the planet for themselves.
Harbour’s reply to the commandant’s argument was that the Jatouche had incredible technical prowess. They’d defeated the Gasnarians, the aliens who originally inhabited Pyre, and were a technically superior race to humans. If they wanted Pyre, they could easily take it and repair it without human help.
The other contested issue was the manufacturing cost of the device’s parts, which humans would be responsible for providing. Unfortunately, no one had any idea what those costs would be, but that didn’t stop the commandant from harping on the subject. Emerson’s broadcasts contained statements that spoke to exaggerated amounts of coin that would be required to pay the YIPS.
“Who’s going to proffer the coin for this extravagant experiment?” the commandant asked. “Contributors could empty their accounts, hoping to see the planet recover, only to witness years from now the failure of this grand scheme.”
Deliberately left unstated by the commandant was the subject of the JOS funds. The majority of these funds accumulated from the YIPS profits and a significant portion from the rentals of the station’s cabins, shops, sleepovers, and cantinas. The commandant had administrative control over these operational accounts, which were used to maintain the JOS and the YIPS. However, capital expenditures, such as for additional terminal arms, required approval from station residents.
Harbour didn’t have a solid rebuttal to the commandant’s message about funding. There were no facts about the device or its manufacturing costs to present. All she could do was ask the question: What’s it worth to have an ecologically viable planet?
* * * *
Downside, topside, and aboard ships, there was only one general topic of conversation that occupied people. It comprised the subjects of aliens, the experiment, and the possibility of success. Participating in the conversations were skeptics and believers, the uncommitted, the fearful, and the courageous. There were dialogs, arguments, and brawls.
However, the domes and station’s elite were holding serious discussions. That there were incredible financial risks was obvious, but there were also enormous potential rewards.
In the elite Starlight cantina, a discussion went like this: “Do we want a referendum to release the JOS funds to pay for the devices?” asked Hans Riesling.
“I think the question is: Do we want the JOS and, by extension, the commandant to have control of the planet along with the governor, or do we want to be the donors and, thereby, the land owners?” retorted Trent Pederson.
“That depends on the ultimate cost and how many people we can interest in investing with us,” Oster Simian added.
“How’s the final bill for this project going to be determined in advance?” Hans asked. “Are we going to ask the aliens to estimate the cost? And what are they going to say: ‘Oh, yes, it will cost 20 million whatevers,’ to which we’ll have no equivalent?”
“Captain Harbour said there will be an initial test deployment of the vehicle,” Oster said. “If we haven’t formed a consortium by then to underwrite the costs, we’ll be missing the launch of this ship.”
“That brings up a question of mine,” said Dottie Franks, who had been listening to the conversation. She was the only woman in the discussion. “Do we know that we can trust what Captain Harbour is saying? The commandant disagrees with her on every point.”
The three men stared silently at the woman.
“What?” Dottie asked.
“Never used an empath, have you?” Trent asked.
“No, never,” Dottie replied.
“Trained empaths aren’t wired to lie,” Oster said, “and Harbour’s their leader.”
“And you shouldn’t even waste your breath, asking people to believe what the commandant is saying,” Hans supplied.
The men returned to their drinks, ruminating on their exchange. Dottie decided to remain silent and learn. Her husband had been a mining captain and ship owner, who had done well by them. But an accident in the inner belt had cost him and several crew their lives. She’d collected the life insurance and sold the ship, making her a wealthy woman. When young, her primary asset had been her beauty. Now, faced with decades of living and no useful skills, she knew that she had to invest her money, and the prospects of the alien work had intrigued her.
Trent finished his drink and signaled an attendant, swirling his finger to indicate another round. The female patron flashed him a generous smile and adjusted her position in the chair to better display her curves.
“Suppose we form a consortium to invest in this project, whether it’s in tandem with JOS funds or not, what’s in it for the investors?” Hans asked.
“Good question,” Oster acknowledged. “It’s the same up here as in the domes. You lease your place and downside you even lease your land. It would be a tough sell to topsiders and downsiders that the consortium would own portions of the planet.”
“Then there’s the question of return on our investment,” Hans said. “The when and the how, most important.”
Dottie realized one of the most significant differences between her and the men, besides gender. They were well on in age, and she was barely in her thirties. The men were wondering if they would see a return on their investment within their lifetimes or whether their children would reap the rewards. Whereas, she had time to see the benefits fall to her. She had visions of becoming a land owner and operating some sort of industry on her property. Her imagination was fueled by thoughts of wandering through a garden filled with fruit trees.
“That’s what makes the timing of this venture so critical,” Hans stressed again. “After the first device is installed, the data will reveal the effectiveness of each unit. We’ve got to be aboard before then.”
“Doesn’t this mean that the amount of invested coin will determine the number of devices that can be installed and the rate at which the planet can be reclaimed?” Dottie asked. She was beginning to understand the complexity facing the investors.
Oster hoisted his fresh drink to her, complimenting her on the question.
“It absolutely does,” Trent replied. “Imagine the consequences if the data reveals that a huge number of devices are necessary and it will take, say, a hundred years to recover the planet.”
“Investment will dry up quickly,” Trent commented, “which means it will fall to the JOS to pick up the tab, providing the stationers vote for it, and I can’t see them failing to give the initial go ahead.”
Dottie discovered that the men met at the Starlight three times a week, on the same days, and at the same hour. She intended to be early for the next meeting and offer the first round of drinks. There was much more to be learned from these savvy investors.
* * * *
Mining ships in the inner belt kept JOS time. It made it easier for communication and for the crews’ cyclical periods, when the vessels returned to the stations.
Late in the evening, it was usually an opportunity for captains to chat with one another. Lately, it was on the same topics as everyone else.
“You have to know that this is going to come down to a fight about who gets the land,” Orlando Davos sa
id.
Paul Kirsch asked, “Do you think it will be a sort of social arrangement, where Pyre owns the planet and the land is leased?”
“That’s the fight I think that’s coming,” Orlando replied. “Do you think the families are going to like that sort of arrangement?”
“It might come down to the coin,” Portia Deloitte interjected. “As in, who has it and who’s willing to risk it?”
“You can bet that this kind of conversation is going on all over the stations and the domes,” Orlando said.
“Yeah, those with coin are trying to figure out how to cut up the planet for themselves,” Portia opined.
“I hear you presenting and lamenting the problems, but I don’t hear any suggestions,” Paul said. His comment produced dead comms, and he waited for a response.
“Okay, I’m waiting to hear yours,” Portia finally said.
“I’m talking to two ship owners, right?” Paul asked rhetorically. “And all three of us have crews that total more than fifty. Add all the spacers together, and you might not have a huge number, but look what we do.”
“He’s got a point,” Orlando admitted. “We might not have the numbers, but we have leverage. We can influence the decision.”
“And another point,” Paul added. “It’s not the inner belt miners against the station and dome’s wealthy. We’d be throwing in with Captains Cinders and Harbour.”
“Now that would make a difference,” Portia said. “We’d be allied with the two captains who deliver the vast majority of the slush and have met the aliens.”
“So how do we do this?” Orlando asked.
“We start selling the idea to the other owner-captains,” Paul replied. “We foster a common purpose before the aliens arrive with the makings of their device. You can bet those with coin will be ready with their proposals. We’ve got to be ready to back the one we like or be ready to reject them all, if none of them suits us.”