by S. H. Jucha
“I’ve spent much of my time carefully observing Captain Cinders. Before Aurelia demonstrated her talent to us, he spoke with her and gestured. Since that time, I’ve learned the hand motion he signaled to her before she performed for you. It indicated his desire that she exhibit a low level of power,” Jaktook explained, imitating Jessie’s descending, open palm movement.
“And?” Tacticnok prompted.
“The expression on every humans’ face after Aurelia shared her power, despite curtailing it, was one of surprise. I believe that humans aren’t nearly as susceptible to empaths as we are.”
“Perhaps Jittak has a right to be worried,” Tacticnok mused.
“Each race has the ability of using some sort of method to enforce its will on others, Tacticnok. What’s the difference between an energy weapon, a stinging tentacle, and a mental sending?”
“For one thing, the energy weapon is the most destructive,” Tacticnok quipped.
“Something we haven’t asked and should is: Why are the empaths here on this great ship?” Jaktook said.
“You’re right, Jaktook. Captain Cinders said that Captain Harbour was the empaths’ leader. She’s responsible for protecting them, implying they’re all here. What we felt from Aurelia should certainly be valuable to the mental health of other humans. Why aren’t the empaths spread throughout Pyrean emplacements to help the citizenry?”
“Now you see the conundrum that Jittak, for his fear, doesn’t perceive,” Jaktook said. “Two rulers and one leader, and it’s the leader who protects humans, whom we perceive as invaluable to their society, but she must huddle here on this ship.”
“It leads one to believe that there is more turmoil in human civilization than the captains want us to know,” Tacticnok acknowledged.
“Yet, I don’t believe the captains are the primary concern. Based on our cordial reception and treatment, I think it’s the two rulers, whom we must learn more about. And, we must be prepared. The answers to our questions might not be to our liking.”
Tacticnok and Jaktook continued to chat until a soft knock at the door indicated that the empaths had returned to collect them. The two Jatouche joined the other team members, who waited in the corridor, and then the group was led to an expansive meeting room. There were no pallets, and the Jatouche chose to stand.
In the meantime, Harbour had gathered Dingles, Jessie, Belinda, Aurelia, Olivia, Bryan Forshaw, and Pete Jennings. The captain walked through the meeting room’s double doors, with her people in tow. Each human wore an updated ear wig.
Jessie was happy to follow in Harbour’s wake. She appeared to be running the social aspects of the operation, and he had to admit that he hadn’t considered much more than the necessary physical processes.
Harbour began the meeting by introducing the Belle’s technical team members — Olivia Harden, Bryan Forshaw, and Pete Jennings — who would be working with the Jatouche.
Without a word, Tacticnok approached the three humans, who stood in a row beside the captain. She reached out a hand toward Bryan’s prosthetic, and he extended it toward her. Tacticnok lightly gripped it and turned it slowly left then right. Next, she stood in front of Pete and regarded the heavy burn scarring that was visible on his hands and neck. Finally, she tried to regard Olivia’s face, but the engineer turned the ruined side away.
Tacticnok stepped back and said, “I assume these aren’t decorations?” The choked laughter she received caused her to say, “I assumed not. Then, when this project is over, we’ll have to do something about all this,” and she twirled a finger at the humans’ tortured bodies. “Come. Let me introduce you to those who will lead our technical people.”
“Don’t let the gray hairs fool you,” Tacticnok said, indicating a Jatouche whose frail stature indicated advanced age. “Gatnack is one of our preeminent metallurgists. He’ll be invaluable in helping you combine your base minerals to produce the components we need.”
Gatnack tipped his head just the slightest, as if he dropped it any farther, he would have difficulty lifting it. “I’m honored to be here and help a young race establish a firm foothold on its planet.”
“And, this is a male progeny of Gatnack’s youngest female progeny,” Tacticnok said, moving on to a Jatouche who was as young as Gatnack was old. “Drigtik is a marvelous fabrication engineer. Truly gifted, for one so youthful, he’ll manage the final assembly of the device and its activation.”
“I too am delighted to be here,” Drigtik said.
The leaders and the nontechnical people stood back and let the scientists, engineers, and techs mingle. It wasn’t long before Olivia plugged her comm unit into the room’s wide display monitor and images of the YIPS appeared.
The Jatouche dug in their hip packs and pulled small devices to capture the images on the monitor. Discussions shot back and forth, as the two races, Pyreans and Jatouche, oriented themselves to the experiences and qualities of the other.
When Harbour felt the technical sorts had been given enough time to forget that they were two different species, having become absorbed in the common language of science, she lightly clapped her hands. Heads came up in response, and she asked, “Is anyone hungry?” Harbour received a chorus of assents and called out, “If my people would be so good as to lead our guests to the meal room that’s been designated for them, staff are waiting to serve them.”
Pyreans and Jatouche filed out and excited conversations could be heard down the corridor.
Harbour leaned over to Tacticnok, and said, “Captain Cinders and I wish your company for a meal.”
“Excellent,” Tacticnok replied. “Jaktook will be joining us.” Tacticnok nodded toward her side, when Jaktook meant to follow the group out the door. Jittak attempted to join her, but Tacticnok motioned for him to follow the others. None of the senior people missed the frown and the lift of lip exhibited by Jittak.
Harbour led the foursome out of the room and turned in the opposite direction taken by the group.
“An incredible ship,” Tacticnok commented. “One could be lost and probably starve to death before being found.”
“That’s how I felt the first time I was here,” Jessie replied, grinning. “It was Aurelia and her sister who found me and led me to the captain’s quarters.”
“You were unfamiliar with the layout of your great ship?” Jaktook asked.
“Most Pyreans are,” Jessie replied.
“Fascinating,” Tacticnok. “This will be a subject for us to explore during our meal.”
The group was quiet until they reached Harbour’s quarters, where Lindsey, Nadine, and Yasmin were waiting to serve a meal. Gone were the central table and chairs. In their place were four makeshift platforms that stood a meter off the deck. Comfortable pallets, with decorative covers, were laid on top of the platforms. Two more platforms and pallets rested against the bulkheads. In front of each platform sat a small end table on which food and drink could rest.
“Please, make yourself comfortable, Your Highness,” Harbour said, with a swing of her arm in the direction of the platforms.
Yasmin had worked with Makana, the artist, to create six different coverlets for the pallets. The women felt they represented different moods, and they were curious to see which of them the Jatouche chose.
Tacticnok and Jaktook unhesitatingly chose the most peaceful of the patterns. Immediately, they reclined, with contented expressions on their faces.
Harbour indicated a strong, masculine-patterned pallet for Jessie and lay down on the remaining pallet. The empaths, who were prepared to serve fruit juice, noticed that Jessie was sitting upright on his pallet rather than reclining, and they hid their smiles.
Tacticnok eyed the brilliantly edged container set before her. She picked it up and held it to the light, fascinated by the display of colors refracted and reflected by the sharp edges. “Marvelous,” she said.
“We call it crystal,” Harbour explained.
When Tacticnok set her cup down, Lindsey filled it
with fruit juice. A frown formed on Tacticnok’s forehead, but quickly disappeared when Lindsey added a clear tube by which she could drink. “Most considerate,” Tacticnok acknowledged.
Jaktook sipped his fruit juice through his glass straw, and his face lit. “An incredible mix of fruits,” he said.
“We grow them in our hydroponic gardens,” Harbour replied. “You’ll have the chance to tour the ship during the weeks that it will take to reach the YIPS.”
“Which will give us much-needed time to get to know each other better, Captain,” Tacticnok said, sipping on her drink, and savoring every mouthful.
Conversation ceased while the meal was served and enjoyed, not the least by Jessie. This was his first fresh meal in more than a month, and he suffered a twinge of regret for his crew, who were sailing aboard the Annie.
After the dishes were cleared, Lindsey offered a brandy to Tacticnok, who sniffed at the small glass and shook her head. Only Jessie chose to partake of the amber liquid, and Nadine left the bottle next to his glass before the empaths slipped out.
“Why are empaths only aboard this ship, Captain Harbour?” Tacticnok asked.
Right to the point, Harbour thought. “First, let us dispense with titles, in this group, if you don’t mind?”
“Fitting,” Tacticnok replied.
“In general, Pyreans are frightened by empaths. They worry an empath might manipulate their emotions to their advantage.”
“Can this be done?” Tacticnok asked.
“The more powerful an empath, the more easily it can be done,” Harbour allowed. She wanted to sit up, but thought maintaining her reclining position would indicate she was comfortable with the conversation. A glance at Jessie caught him finishing his first brandy quickly.
“Have you ever thought this, Jessie?” Jaktook asked. He felt uncomfortable speaking to the human without using his earned title.
“All my life,” Jessie admitted, “until I met Aurelia. She changed my mind about empaths.”
“How?” Jaktook asked.
“An empath has power that most humans don’t,” Jessie replied. “Aurelia made me realize it’s not the power that should be feared, but the person who wields it. Aurelia is a gentle person, who does what she can to help others. Can she hurt someone with her power? Yes, she can.”
“How would you compare your power, Harbour, to Aurelia’s power?” Tacticnok asked.
“An empath’s power can’t be measured in any scientific manner, at least with any form of testing we possess. Only in specific circumstances can comparisons occasionally be made,” Harbour replied.
Tacticnok and Jaktook witnessed the nervous glance that Harbour sent Jessie’s way. His head was bowed, and he was holding his empty brandy glass in both hands, slowly rubbing it between them.
“I can see that this subject is making the two of you uncomfortable,” Tacticnok said. “Let us speak no more of it.” By that she meant, she wouldn’t talk to Harbour about it when Jessie was present, but she had every intent of exploring the subject further with Harbour.
“Tell us about these two rulers of yours,” Jaktook asked. “Why do you distrust them, and what challenges will they represent to us?”
Jessie broke out in laughter. He waved a hand in apology to the Jatouche and regarded Harbour. “Remember, it was your idea to invite them to dinner,” he said, in fine humor.
Harbour stared at the expectant faces of the Jatouche and worked to organize her thoughts. “Rather than try to answer your questions, which is essentially the history of Pyre,” she said, “let me tell you the story of the Honora Belle.”
Harbour related the hopes of a dying Earth, and the people who sent their colonists to the stars. She spoke of the Belle’s troubles, which shortened its journey and brought it to the present system. And, she described the orders given the ship’s captain to set in motion the processes to create the new society.
“If I understand what you’re saying, you believe these two rulers have usurped your rightful place,” Jaktook surmised.
“Only as far as it was the captain’s responsibility to ensure that democratic elections were held,” Harbour replied.
“Explain this process that wasn’t followed,” Tacticnok requested.
“Humans, for the most part, believe in a democracy,” Jessie said. “In this form of society, everyone is equal and has the same rights, which can’t be taken away. When it comes to those who lead, humans vote to choose them. Individuals with the most votes are the leader for a specified length of time.”
The Jatouche stared at each other, their jaws slightly open. Jaktook turned to Jessie and asked, “And does this work?”
“When it’s done fairly and without guile, it works well,” Jessie replied. “But those conditions aren’t always present.”
Tacticnok prepared to ask another question but halted when she spotted Jessie’s upraised hand.
“We have questions,” Jessie said. “In the dome’s lower level, it was made clear to me that the Messinants built the dome, the gates, and uplifted the Jatouche. Where are the Messinants now?”
“No one, by that I mean, no alliance race, having discovered a dome, has ever been in the presence of Messinants,” Jaktook replied.
“Do you even know what they looked like?” Harbour asked.
“Oh, yes,” Tacticnok replied. “We found their images in the consoles. They don’t give one the impression of intellect. They’re easily the height of humans, but powerfully built. They’re furred, and their faces are a mix of characteristics. Overall, I would say their most unsettling features are their eyes, dark and knowing. They appear to peer into your mind, seeking your thoughts.
“What do you know about them?” Jessie asked.
“What we know is what we surmise by comparing our ancient stories with those of the other races,” Jaktook said. “We believe that the Messinants worked on a concept of mutualism. When they viewed their uplifting of a species as successful, they’d build a dome and a Q-gate to link the developing species to another planet that held a second species also in ascendancy.”
“Why do you think they built the gates away from the planets?” Harbour asked.
“To improve the odds of their concept being successful,” Jaktook replied. “The Messinants didn’t wait for developing races to achieve sophisticated cultures. After satisfactory levels of sentience and language were achieved, they stopped visiting the race. Their work would either end in failure or success.”
“What do you mean by failure?” Jessie asked.
“The species would collapse into war, starvation, or disease,” Tacticnok replied.
“We think that the Messinants calculated that if a species achieved space travel, they were likely to be ready to meet others,” Jaktook continued. “A dome was preprogrammed with the DNA of every species that was developing, which allowed that race to access the dome’s entrance.”
“But our DNA accessed the Triton dome, and our people never found a gate,” Jessie objected.
Jaktook spread his hands in apology. “You would have to ask the Messinants how and why they did that, Jessie Cinders.”
“Continue with your point about mutualism,” Harbour urged.
“Having gained access to a dome, a race must possess the curiosity, patience, and technical skills to discover the secrets held in the console,” Jaktook said. “Once the mysteries of the console and platform were unlocked, a species could send four to twelve of their number through a gate, depending on their size.”
“But nothing much larger,” Jessie pointed out.
“Exactly,” Jaktook agreed. “The platforms were meant to allow individuals to journey to other worlds but not ships. One of two things would happen to those first intrepid passengers, who took passage to a quantum-linked dome. They would either find another race waiting for them or they wouldn’t.”
“What if the second dome was destroyed?” Jessie asked.
“Then passage wouldn’t be enabled by the console,�
�� Tacticnok replied. “These circumstances existed when your dome’s power supply was truncated.”
When Jessie nodded in understanding, Jaktook continued. “If there were no one to greet them, the passengers would activate the console and return home. They had little choice.”
“So, mutualism was predicated on two species achieving a technical level of society that could manage space travel sufficiently to discover their domes. Then, when one or both of them could unlock the gate’s operation, they were able to meet,” Jessie summarized
“Yes,” Tacticnok agreed.
“How has this worked out?” Harbour asked.
“Much like your democracy,” Tacticnok replied, “not always successfully.”
“We believe that the Messinants were mesmerized by intelligence, but their logic held a flaw,” Jaktook explained. “They equated greater intelligence with a superior race. Unfortunately, uplifting a species did not mean its darker nature was eliminated.”
“You’re implying that some of the Messinants’ projects resulted in dangerous species, possessing intelligence and aggressive natures,” Jessie said, his eyes staring hard into those of Tacticnok. “Worse, the Messinants weren’t around to correct their mistakes.”
“This is true,” Tacticnok replied.
“You’ve mentioned other races several times, Tacticnok. You must have Q-gates that go to other worlds, correct?” Jessie asked.
Jessie’s question created momentary consternation for Tacticnok and Jaktook. Based on the expression on Jaktook’s face, Jessie surmised that he was deferring to Tacticnok, as if answering were a royal decision. When the silence extended, Harbour said, “It looks like it’s been our turn to make you uncomfortable, which wasn’t our intention.”
However, Jessie wasn’t so willing to let the question go unanswered. “Putting aside the number of gates, could you tell me how the Jatouche are faring among the other races? Are you technically superior? Do you dominate them?”
Tacticnok hesitated again, and Harbour sat up to focus her eyes on Tacticnok. “I would be interested to hear your answer, Your Highness.”