The Key

by Pauline Baird Jones

  They were wearing uniforms similar to the one Adin had worn when he pretended to be Gadi, but with more flair. It was kind of funny that Adin couldn’t bring himself to put on the pretty for his masquerade as a Gadi.

  Sara pulled off her gloves, released her top hatch, then unhooked her harness. She pulled off her oxygen mask and undid the chinstrap of her helmet. She really didn’t want to take it off and go through the whole are-you-really-a-girl-soldier thing. With a sigh, she bent over, slipped it off, and set it on the floorboards between her booted feet. She pulled out her cap and as quickly as she could, she tucked her hair up in it, and then pulled the bill low over her eyes. Maybe they wouldn’t notice.

  She sat up, hooked her P-90 on its clip and stood up. The men around her bird, tensed, their weapons ready. It was kind of superfluous. From this vantage point, there looked to be about four hundred of the gun-pointing gomers.

  Hawkins looked at her, then pulled his cap on, too, before jumping down into the middle of the cluster around his bird.

  She stepped out on the wing, and jumped to the ground next to her bird, mentally locking it down—and doing the same to Hawkins bird. No reason to hand them over to ET. The tops hissed back in place, catching the attention of the only unarmed gomer she could see.

  He moved toward them, his people parting for him, and flowing in behind him, like they were the Red Sea and he was Moses. Two gomers marched on his heels, like aides or guards. It had a military precision to it, but also something extra.

  That feeling of being in a sci-fi parody got stronger.

  Now that she was face to face with them, she could tell they were…different from the Dusan. The uniforms definitely had more… dash, and lots more drama.

  There’d been a grim air about the Dusan garrison and the men manning it. No freedom in the air or in their eyes. This…display of force had the feel of circumstance, even as the pomp approached Hawkins first.

  Sara came to attention, then went to at ease, her hands clasped behind her back. Hawkins followed her lead as the man, clearly their leader, walked up to him. His uniform was thick with gold stuff.

  He looked him up, then down, then turned and paced slowly around Hawkin’s bird.

  He was a tall man, as tall as Hawkins. He had thick, dark hair and a patrician look to his face and to his bearing. There was a definite flair to the way he studied them and in his controlled silence.

  Sara lifted her chin when it was her turn for scrutiny. Just as he did with Hawkins, he looked her up and down, then walked around her bird.

  The silence in the bay was absolute, except for the sound of his footfalls. After what seemed a long time, he walked back to Sara, stopping in front of her again.

  Sara stared straight ahead, her mouth a straight line.

  Suddenly he reached out and plucked her cap off. As her hair tumbled free, there was a hiss from all the shocked, ET mouths.

  He held out her cap with a sharp movement. She took it and returned it to her head, carefully adjusting the brim before resuming her stance.

  Her jaw might have jutted a bit pugnaciously, because amusement warmed his eyes. Not a lot, but some. At least the gomer had a sense of humor.

  The silence was getting uncomfortable, but Sara was determined not to be the one to break it.

  “You flew this ship?” His voice was as elegant as his bearing and there was a hint of an accent that went well with the gold braid.

  Did he see anyone else who could have flown it?

  “You are a—woman.”

  Sara looked right at ET and blinked twice.

  His lips twitched slightly.

  “I have never seen—”

  “—a woman?” Sara arched her brows. “I’m surprised you recognized one then, specially one wearing a zoombag.”

  The zoombag hid the few assets Sara had.

  This time he permitted himself a small smile.

  “A woman dressed as a warrior.”

  Well, there was a shocker.

  His gaze swept her again, with a polite look of amazement. A very polite look of amazement.

  Maybe it would help if she kicked some ET ass. She looked around her. The four hundred plus weapons were still pointed at her. Probably be a better plan to let ET under estimate her.

  Fyn’s advice was still good. Don’t get shot.

  “How is this possible? A woman does not have the strength and agility to fly such a craft.”

  Sara’s eyes narrowed in warning, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “And yet, I must believe the evidence of my eyes. You flew this ship. And you flew it very well.” He looked at her. “You broke through our line. You could have escaped, but you didn’t.”

  She shrugged.

  He frowned. “He ordered you to leave? We began monitoring your transmissions as soon as you came out of hyperspace.”

  “That must have been interesting,” Sara said. “Is that why you decided not to open fire?”

  “Perhaps.” He was quiet for a moment. “What is ET?”

  “It’s…slang for someone not of our world. A shortened version of extra-terrestrial.”

  “I see.”

  He didn’t look like he did. He did look from her to Hawkins, clearly undecided about something.

  “I am Commander Gaedon, of the Gadi Federation.”

  He gave a sort of half bow. His smile was a bit reserved, but still charming.

  Sara wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the bow. She’d missed the class on how to curtsey to an alien dignitary—and the zoombag was pretty curtsey resistant. She settled for nodding her head in what she hoped was a dignified way.

  “Captain Sara Donovan, United States Air Force. That’s Captain John Hawkins, my wingman.”

  He nodded politely in Hawkins direction. Then he pointed at her P-90.

  “That is a weapon?”

  “A P-90.” Sara didn’t make the mistake of touching it. “Be happy to show you how it works.”

  “Perhaps another time.” He was quiet for a moment. Maybe he was still assimilating her whole, female warrior thing. “United States? Is that what you call your planet?”

  Sara exchanged look with Hawkins. “We’re from Earth, sir. The United States is our country.”

  “Earth? We are not familiar with earth.”

  “Not surprising. We’re intergalactic explorers—”

  His eyes widened.

  “—just checking out the neighborhood. Didn’t come to pick a fight with anyone…but we found one. A Dusan ship attacked us shortly after our arrival here.”

  “It is their way. From another galaxy.” He clearly found this very interesting. “A pity…so you are all that is left of your expedition?”

  “No, sir.”

  His eyes widened.

  “We blew up their big ship. And all their little ones.”

  His eyes widened even more.

  “Not long after that, another ship approached our position, claiming to be Gadi, but they didn’t look or act like you.”

  This made Gaedon’s eyes narrow and his jaw hardened.

  “They pretended they wanted to talk with us about an alliance, then attacked us without provocation. So…we spanked them. They took their toys—and their Gadi vessel—and went home.”

  It looked like she’d given him something to think about—if he understood what she said. Had he got the part where they kicked Dusan trash?

  “What brought you to this sector and in such…small numbers?”

  “We just came to look around. As I said, we are explorers and explorers…explore. It’s like, a requirement. If you don’t explore, they kick you out of the explorer’s club.”

  His lips twitched.

  Sara glanced around. Not one guy had got tired and lowered his weapon. The staring was getting a little old. Particularly when they were all guy stares.

  “Are there any other women on this vessel?”

  “You are the first.”

  That was good. On the other hand…


  She looked around again. “So…how long you been away from home?” Even a homely girl might start to look good if it had been a long time.

  He smiled, as if he knew what she was really asking.

  “We are not like the Dusan.”

  “That’s good.”

  Did his gaze sharpen a bit at that? Sara wasn’t sure.

  “Which one of you speaks for your people?”

  Sara looked at Hawkins. He looked at her.

  She was pretty sure Kilburn wouldn’t want either of them speaking for their people.

  “We’re soldiers, not diplomats, but I’m in charge of this mission.”

  His brows arched, but he didn’t look displeased. He might have looked a bit surprised. Obviously he hadn’t quite got past the whole girl-warrior thing.

  “We have people, well, a person, who talks for us in this galaxy. He really likes to do it, too. Whines when he doesn’t get to. If I could contact our people—”

  “For now, we will keep the discussions between us.” His lips twitched again. “If they go…well, we will see.”

  Okay, no pressure.

  “We can’t talk here. But I will need you to remove your weapon. I’m sure you understand why it is necessary.”

  It was all very friendly, except for all the gomers who tensed and edged closer with all their ray guns pointed right at her.

  She exchanged a look with Hawkins. He shrugged. It wasn’t like she had a choice.

  “Sure.” She jumped up on the wing of her bird and retracted the top. Taking care to hold it in a non-threatening way, she removed her P-90, and dropped it on the seat.

  She turned around and put hands on the back of her head.

  Gaedon looked confused. “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting to be searched?”

  All the faces she saw looked alarmed. Most of them now took a half step away from her. They really weren’t like the Dusan.

  Gaedon looked equally alarmed. “Surely that is not…do I have your word that what you have removed is sum of your weapons?”

  Sara looked at him for a moment. “That depends.” She nodded toward his men. “Are we prisoners?”

  He met her gaze for a long moment. “You are guests.”

  She arched her brows and looked at the armed gomers.

  “Not feeling like a guest.” She kept her hands clasped behind her head.

  A small smile flickered across his face. He made a sharp gesture. Most of the weapons were lowered. Sara lowered her hands.

  “Thank you. To complete my disarming process, I need to de-bag—sorry, I need to take my flight suit off?” She put a hand on the zipper. “Okay?”

  His brows arched, but he nodded in a courtly way. It was pretty smooth.

  Sara looked around. They were all still looking at her. Hard not to feel like a stripper at a bachelor party, even if she were fully clothed underneath. Great. She turned her back on them and ran the zipper down, and then she started to slip it off one shoulder.

  “Eyes right,” the commander suddenly barked.

  Sara looked over her shoulder and saw all the men looking away from her. The commander looked…embarrassed. She grinned at Hawkins. He grinned back. Didn’t look away. In fact, he leaned against his bird like a man prepared to enjoy a show. She stuck her tongue out at him.

  She realized the commander saw it. He looked a bit startled.

  Sara managed to finish getting clear of her zoombag without too much working of the money maker. Sometimes it paid to be a thin girl. She also managed to turn her radio to box, once her ABU’s were clear of her bag. She tossed her bag on the seat with her other stuff, carefully removed her nine mil and knife—after her experience with Fyn she started carrying them on her person—and then put her boot on the side, lifted her pant leg, and removed the knife from its sheath and dropped it into the cockpit with her other stuff. She lifted her other pant leg and removed that knife—a recent addition to her defensive armament—and added it to the pile. She was tempted to toss in the knife strapped to her back, just for effect, but she hated to lose it. They’d been through a lot together.

  She locked her bird down again, then set the self-destruct on both ships—just in case.

  Would he notice she hadn’t given her word that was all her armament?

  “Thank you.”

  Apparently not.

  His nod was once again courtly, but his eyes were a little wide.

  “That was a lot of…armament.”

  “I wasn’t a Boy Scout, but still like to be prepared.”

  Now he looked confused. It was hard to crack a joke in this galaxy.

  He studied her clothing, though without the creepy overtones of Adin. Her pants didn’t reveal much and she was glad the top was loose fitting. It bulked her up a bit. Removed the curves.

  “We must proceed in this direction,” Gaedon said, with a gesture that was as courtly as his nod. Maybe she could get him to show her how he did that with such flair. Not something you learned in a trailer park—at least not the ones she’d frequented.

  Sara dropped down and walked up to him, aware four guards fell in behind her.

  Hawkins didn’t look happy. He straightened, like he wanted to do something, but wasn’t sure what.

  She gave him a reassuring look. “I’m sure I won’t be long.”

  She saw his eyes flicker as he realized she was on box. He leaned against his bird again, his arms crossed.

  The commander looked at her. “It is clear you are…comrades in arms. You communicate with your eyes.”

  “All I was communicating was that I’d be fine. Don’t want him to get agitated and hurt someone when things are so friendly. But I feel I should…warn you, our ships are armed with self-destruct mechanisms. If they are interfered with, they will make a mess of this lovely landing bay—and any of your men who happen to be close by.”

  He looked at her for a long moment.

  “A wise precaution.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  They stopped when they reached some kind of exit.

  “We need to take the lift.” He pressed a button beside the doors. They slid open and Sara stepped in, followed by the commander and the guard detail.

  “So, in your world, women fight beside the men?”

  “Not all of them,” Sara said. “Our military is volunteer.”

  He clearly found that interesting. “A volunteer army would have certain…strengths.” He looked at her. “Why would a woman such as your self volunteer to be…a warrior?”

  Sara had to grin.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I was just thinking what I told the…Dusan who asked me that.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “That I joined because I wanted to travel to new places, meet people…and kill them.” She smiled at Gaedon.

  That got a chuckle out of him. His guards choked a bit. Sara looked at them.

  “That’s what the Dusan did. Choked just like that.”

  “You are truly a soldier,” Gaedon said, his gaze sobering.

  “I am, sir. This…talk we’re going to have, I’m a bit worried. Usually we let the diplomats do the talking. I don’t want to goon things up.”

  He smiled. “You seem to be managing.”

  It was a no, wrapped in a compliment…but still a no. Sara sighed.

  The doors slid open to a busy corridor that was rather…fancy. Again, there was function, but attention had been paid to form as well. The walls were a soft green, the floor a darker green tile of some kind. It felt firm, but had some give to it.

  Unlike the Doolittle, that had a lot in common with a submarine or a naval ship in the way its doorways were configured—the doorways in this ship were graceful arches. No doors latched back and not a spec of gray anywhere.

  Gaedon indicated a left turn, then fell into step beside her.

  “I find myself wanting to ask you if we’ve met before, even when I know it is not possible
.”

  Crap.

  “On my planet, that would be a lame pick-up line, but you make it sound like a compliment, sir.” Sara smiled at him, hoping her sudden unease didn’t show. “You are very different from the Dusan.”

  Gaedon looked pleased. “The Dusan are a plague. Not much is known of their culture, but in our…contacts with them, they have proved themselves to be both brutal and untrustworthy.”

  He stopped in front of a door, turning to look at her.

  “When the new leader came to power, Adin Xever—”

  Sara jerked, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  “I had some hope of change. He was young and didn’t seem as set in the old ways of his people. Not a lot of information gets out, but what we do know, is not encouraging.”

  Since the “old ways” involved lots of guilt-free sex, Sara couldn’t see Adin changing either. Suddenly she felt Gaedon looking at her.

  “You have…encountered Adin Xever, have you not?”

  Sara nodded reluctantly. She didn’t really want to talk about Adin. “He was the one who approached us, claiming to be Gadi.” Her insides tightened.

  “He is dead?”

  “No.”

  “A pity.”

  “No kidding.”

  He touched a panel by the door and it slid open, revealing a room that looked a lot like a living room. The color of the walls was soft and relaxing and there were chairs and a couch.

  Gaedon indicated she should enter.

  It was a pleasant office. A desk sat off to one side by a view screen and a comfortable looking sitting area was anchored by a couch. There was a small shelf of books. And he had some lovely artwork on the walls. She stopped to admire a couple of pieces, but then noticed something that looked a bit like a piano in the corner.

  “What’s this?” It was like finding a friend when she didn’t expect it.

  “It is a harmonious.”

  He lifted the cover off the keys. The keys were all the same level, longer and gray in color. And the keyboard seemed shorter.

  “May I?” Sara looked at him.

  “You are a harmonium?”

  “I have no idea.” She sat on the bench and tried out one of the keys. It felt stiffer than her keyboard, and it was terribly out of key. “Do you play this?”