Probably not. Humans on Paradise were still viewed as an occupying force; primitive lackeys of the hated Kristang. The fact that the local government allowed Perkins’ team to fly around like leashed pets was not going to change the minds of the native Ruhar.
And while she was thinking of humans on Paradise, she saw across the airfield a group of humans being marched off a giant Dumbo transport aircraft. Even at a distance, she could tell by their dress uniforms the humans were UNEF officers. “Excuse me,” she asked her escort through the zPhone translator, “who are those humans?” Perkins still had a good pipeline to UNEF HQ, and she was not aware of any high-level meeting scheduled for that day.
“Those?” her escort grimaced, using the exact same facial contortions as a human. “They are, you call them Those Who Keep the Faith?” The Ruhar’s translated voice stumbled.
“Oh,” it was Emily’s turn to grimace. “Keepers. We call them Keepers. Actually,” she smiled and winked, knowing the Ruhar used the same facial expressions, “they call themselves Keepers. We have less polite names for those idiots.”
“Uh? Ha, ha!”
“On Earth, we have a large bird that does not fly,” Perkins struggled with how to describe an ostrich. “When it is faced with a predator, it will bury its head in the sand rather than confront the danger.” She knew that was a myth, but it made a good point for her story. “Those Keepers can’t deal with the fact that we got suckered by the Kristang, so they cling to their original mission orders.”
The escort was silent, puzzled by the translation. He pressed a button to replay and listened again. “Major Perkins, I am curious. The strategy you described is not wise for the survival of the bird that is unable to fly. Would not such a bird quickly have gone extinct?”
Perkins had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. He had completely missed the point of her story. “Oh, for crying out- what I meant is-”
“Or,” the escort’s face lit up as he had a thought, “is there another factor you did not mention? Does the head of this bird emit heat, and the predators on your planet use infrared vision? In that case, such a survival strategy would be quite successful! Although,” he paused to touch a finger to his lips, “how would the bird know whether the predator has left the area?”
“Oh, I, forget it. I will explain later.” She was relieved that they had reached the door of the administration building, and the escort needed to go in first.
Perkins’ meeting was with the Ruhar woman she still thought of as ‘The Burgermeister’; Deputy Administrator Baturnah Logellia. Recent rumors had Logellia soon moving up to Chief Administrator; the current chief was long known to have desired a move back to his home planet. Perkins had developed a very good working relationship with Logellia, and considered that relationship to be one of UNEF’s greatest assets on Paradise. The Deputy Administrator was waiting in her office, her focus on the display in front of her. As soon as Perkins was ushered into the office, Logellia flipped the display closed, rose from her chair and offered a warm handshake. Perkins could still not decide if Logellia genuinely liked humans, or thought of Perkins’ team as her pets.
“Major Perkins, did you enjoy your refreshing vacation in the snow? I am sorry there was no opportunity for your team to ski while you were there,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes.
“It was delightful, thank you,” Perkins winked back. “I highly recommend the experience, to anyone who enjoys frostbite, soul-crushing depression and boredom.”
The Burgermeister nodded. “We do appreciate your team’s work.” She tapped the tablet on her desk. “The report from the mission leader praised the skill and professionalism of your team highly; please convey our regards to them for us.”
“I will,” Perkins was mildly surprised to hear the Ruhar mission leader had praised her team. In meetings with Perkins, the Ruhar mission leader had treated humans as small and not very bright children. “I am proud of my team’s efforts. We are ready for our next mission.”
Baturnah plunged ahead, figuring it was best to deliver the bad news right away. “There is, please forgive me if I use the expression incorrectly, good news and bad news on that issue?”
“That is the correct expression,” Perkins responded warily. “Traditionally, the bad news is given first.”
“Ah, I understand. That way, the good news coming later takes away the sting of the bad news?”
“That is the idea, yes.”
“The bad news, then, is there is much pressure coming from the battlegroup commander, to shut down the activities of your team. The commander is concerned about the operational security risks of including aliens in the process of establishing the projector network.”
“My team has been restricted to drilling,” Perkins protested. “All we do is provide access to the projector control center, we do not descend below the surface at all.”
“That is true-”
“That is despite the fact that my team reactivated projectors all by ourselves, and rescued this planet from a Kristang battlegroup. You don’t need us to reactivate projectors. We don’t need you to reactivate projectors.” Perkins knew she risked insulting the Deputy Administrator; she judged that risk worthwhile, to remind the Ruhar government who had destroyed a Kristang battlegroup that had been hanging over their heads.
“Major,” Logellia responded with a quick smile. “Admiral Mohvalu knows your team performed exceptionally. He also knows that your team acted without the permission, or knowledge, of our government. You were beyond our control, and admirals do not like anything to be beyond their command and control.”
“We are operating under your control now,” Perkins said defensively.
Logellia continued as if Perkins had not spoken. “Admiral Mohvalu expressed to me his concern that when you were working on your own, your team was acting in the interests of humans. Helping us was only a byproduct of your goal of preventing UNEF from falling under the control of the Kristang.”
“That is true,” Perkins kept her voice cool. “It is also true that allies often find areas of mutual interest. And we were acting under the direction of a Mysterious Benefactor, who I suspected was a group of local Ruhar.”
“I personally suspect your ‘Emby’ was a rival group of Kristang, but our intelligence agencies do not agree.” The Ruhar intelligence agencies were still intensely searching for the true identity of ‘Emby’ and to date they had not a single clue, which made each intelligence agency suspect that ‘Emby’ was working for another agency. Essentially, the intel agencies were all unhelpfully chasing their tails.
Perkins nodded silently. After the Kristang battlegroup commander essentially surrendered, Perkins and her team had been interrogated for days by Ruhar. The interrogation had not been rough, but it had not been friendly either. Most of the questions had focused on who their Mysterious Benefactor was, a subject about which Perkins and her team had nothing but wild guesses. Based on the questions of her Ruhar interrogators, Perkins thought the Ruhar also had absolutely no idea of Emby’s true identity. And they might never know, which was fine with Emily Perkins. Having a Mysterious Benefactor was an ace in the hole, if Perkins was ever able to work with them, or him, or her, again.
Baturnah continued. “When my government, the Federal government, first learned about Admiral Kekrando’s battlegroup being destroyed, they were very unhappy. Because the Federal government did not want Gehtanu! They wanted to trade this planet for something more valuable; something easier and cheaper to defend. It was only later, when we found that Elder power tap, that the Federal government decided we should keep Gehtanu for ourselves. The federal government does not consider that you did any favors for us, so we do not owe you anything in return.”
“We have not asked for favors,” Perkins responded in what she hoped was an even tone. “We are working to provide security for this planet, under your control.”
“You are now, as you said, acting under our orders. However, if you decide that we are doing something which is
not favorable to humans, you might decide to do something that acts against the interests of my people.” She paused as a very large dropship revved up its engines and accelerated down the runway, rumbling faster and faster. That type of dropship was called a ‘Whale’ by the humans, the name referred to a very large aquatic mammal that lived in the oceans on the human’s home planet. Unlike the derisive names of ‘Buzzard’, ‘Chicken’ or ‘Vulture’ humans gave to Ruhar combat aircraft, Baturnah had been told ‘Whale’ was a sign of respect for the gigantic dropship. The office complex buildings had vibration-cancelling technology embedded in floors, walls and ceilings; still Baturnah could feel her desk trembling faintly under her fingertips, so she waited until the noise from the dropship faded.
Perkins did not like the direction the conversation had taken. “UNEF has pledged loyalty to the Ruhar. This was done in our self-interest, as you said, but also because we have come to believe the Kristang are our true enemy. On that issue, our interests are perfectly aligned.” The conversation could uselessly go back and forth forever; the Ruhar might never fully trust humans. “Administrator, the bad news is that Admiral Mohvalu wants to terminate my team’s participation in the projector missions? You said you also had good news?”
“I do have good news, or news I think is good. I have been able to persuade the Chief Administrator to allow your team to be assigned one last mission. Last, because there are few projectors remaining to be activated. Your team might be assigned other missions in the future, however, this will likely be your last involving the projector network.”
“Let me guess,” Perkins said with a wry smile, “we are going to the south pole this time.” Why not, she thought? Humans would only be assigned to missions the Ruhar did not want.
“No,” Baturnah winked. “I have arranged an all-inclusive tropical vacation for you and your team.”
“Seriously?” Perkins didn’t know if the other woman were joking.
“Seriously. Your people call our planet ‘Paradise’. I think this area of Gehtanu is as close to a tropical paradise as you will find on our fair planet. Here,” Baturnah opened her display and turned it so Perkins could see. It was a map of the far side of Paradise. Much of one hemisphere was an ocean substantially larger than the Pacific on Earth. That hemisphere held chains of islands, some large and some small. Baturnah zoomed the display on a tiny dot south of the equator. “To be a fully effective mechanism for planetary defense, the projector network must provide overlapping coverage of the entire sky. Because so much of Gehtanu’s surface is ocean, the Kristang had to install projectors on some rather small and isolated islands. This is one. To perform this mission, your team pilots will need training to fly a special, long-range version of the aircraft you call a ‘Buzzard’. Also, they will need to qualify to perform inflight refueling.”
“That will not be a problem,” Perkins declared. She had complete confidence in her two pilots.
“You are certain?” Baturnah asked, wary the human commander may be boasting.
“Lt. Striebich performed a precision hover while lowering a drill rig, without any training. Lt. Bonsu was trusted by your own air command to fly a Dobreh gunship.”
“True. Will you accept this assignment?”
“Yes,” Perkins said without hesitation. “I have only one question. If we perform well, will that help to change your government’s mind about resettling UNEF in southern Lemuria?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“But if we perform poorly, that will reflect badly on all humans?”
“Yes, also unfortunately,” Baturnah confirmed.
Shit, Perkins said to herself. The only thing worse would be for humans to be excluded from the mission, voluntarily or through a Ruhar ban on human participation. “Thank you for your honesty.”
Baturnah gave back a sad smile. “I regret to add that the Ruhar commander of this mission strongly objected to humans being involved. You will need to be, as you say, on your toes. Still,” she zoomed the display in farther, so the island could be seen as a lush green dot, fringed by a white beach, in a dazzlingly blue ocean. “At least being on this tropical island will be pleasant for your team?”
“Compared to our last mission, this should be a vacation.”
“Good! Major Perkins, I have a favor to request of you. It will benefit you, so I hope you will agree.”
Perkins wondered with alarm what the request could be. “What is this favor?”
“I have been trying to arrange a liaison officer for your team; someone to work directly with you, and act as a buffer between yourself and the mission commander. It has been difficult to find someone to act as liaison; it is not a popular assignment. What I have arranged is for one of my nephews- Nephew? Did that translate correctly? My brother’s son.”
“Nephew is the correct term.”
“Good. My nephew is a cadet attending a military academy, he is in his first year, and is here on leave. He is thirteen of your years old?”
Oh, great, Perkins thought. Fantastic. We’re going to be babysitters. She smiled as broadly as she could manage. “Administrator, we would be very pleased for your nephew to join my team. I have one question. While he is with us, he will be under my command?”
“That can be arranged,” Baturnah nodded. “Thank you, Major. My nephew is very eager for this assignment. I must,” she smiled quickly, “tell you, my nephew is young, and even for his age, he is considered somewhat socially awkward. Please do not take offense if he says the wrong thing; he means well.”
Doubly great, Perkins groaned inside. “I am sure he will be a great asset to my team.” What else could she say?
While Major Perkins was meeting with the Burgermeister, and Irene and Derek were trying to get replacement parts for their Buzzard, Jesse, Dave and Shauna were cleaning their well-used aircraft. They had been flying and living in the Buzzard for weeks, and even the three men agreed the cabin of their ship was getting funky. Jesse and Dave were carrying bags of trash across the landing pad to a dumpster behind a hangar, when Dave saw something that stopped him in his tracks. “Holy crap, dude, check it out,” Dave nudged Jesse, pointing toward a hangar a few rows past where their Buzzard was parked.
“What? I- damn! What the hell is he doing here?” Jesse exclaimed.
“The Major did say the hamsters had brought in Sleepers for a briefing or something, before they leave the planet. Errant Eric,” he used their derisive name for Eric Koblenz, “must be one of them, right?”
“There’s nothing right about him, amigo,” Jesse muttered. “Something’s wrong about him in the head.”
“You can say that about all those Sleepers,” Dave spat on the tarmac, or whatever material the Ruhar used for the parking aprons and runways at the airbase. “Hey, Jesse, let’s ditch this trash and go talk to him.”
“Why?” Jesse snorted. “So he can tell us we’re traitors? That would be a waste of time. Besides, if he calls me a traitor to my face again, I might have to punch him in his face, and Major Perkins told us to stay out of trouble.” Jesse was sure any of the Keepers would love an opportunity to get Jesse or Dave in trouble with their Ruhar hosts.
“Look, the guy is a certified asshole,” Dave agreed, “but you think he really wants to go offworld with the lizards? His problem is he’s stupid, and he listens to people he should stay away from.”
“You’re serious?” Jesse asked, fairly astonished.
“Yeah, man. It will be our good deed for the day.”
“Good deed for the freakin’ year, you mean. And we already destroyed a Kristang battlegroup, I don’t need any more good deeds on my record, thank y’all every much,” Jesse declared, but Dave could tell he was hesitating.
“Right. You in?”
“You promise to hold me back if I get the urge to punch him?”
“You promise the same for me?”
“Oh, hell,” Jesse sighed. “Ok, let’s do it. No need to punch him anyways, the freakin’ lizards are sure to
get his ass killed up there, if they don’t kill him themselves.”
They dumped the trash and hurried toward where Eric Koblenz was standing awkwardly in the midst of what Jesse guessed was a hundred Keepers. “Ski, wait,” he grabbed Dave’s arm. “You really want to persuade this asshole not to throw his life away?”
“Somebody should,” Dave nodded.
“In that case, I reckon talking to him is a waste of time. He ain’t gonna listen to us, we’re traitors, remember? Even if he agrees with us, he’ll still go offworld out of stupid pride.”
“Yeah, so? You got a better idea?”
“I do.” Jesse held up his zPhone, and selected a photo. “See that officer? With the bandages on his face and the arm splint? I think that’s Captain Chisolm. He’s the only survivor of the raid on that projector site the Ruhar were digging up in Lemuria.”
“Shit, that’s him?” Dave gaped, and looked between Jesse’s zPhone and the officer. “I think you’re right, it is him.” Major Perkins’ team had heard about the failed raid, in which the six Kristang and fifty human attackers had been killed or wounded, with the only survivor being Captain Chisolm. At the time, Perkins and her team had been rather busy flying around reactivating projector sites under the direction of Emby, so they hadn’t paid much attention to the incident.
They approached the Ruhar guards around Chisolm and requested permission to speak with their fellow human. One of the Ruhar guards recognized Dave and Jesse, and must have been grateful for their having destroyed a Kristang battlegroup, because she waved them forward. “Speak quickly,” she advised. “He will be leaving soon.”
“Captain Chisolm?” Dave asked as he gave a salute. “Sir, could we speak with you?”
The Captain returned the salute awkwardly, his right arm was not broken but he had enough tissue damage in the shoulder joint that raising that arm was painful. “Specialist,” he began saying to Dave, then turned his attention to Jesse, who had not saluted. “You don’t recognize the uniform, soldier?” He asked harshly.
Trouble on Paradise: an ExForce novella (ExForce novellas Book 1) Page 7