The Terrans

by Jean Johnson

  Ba’oul choked on his drink. Little droplets of electrolyte juice went flying forward. He muttered an apology and slowly waved his arm ahead of him, trying to capture the wayward bits of liquid by trying to get them to adhere to his skin via surface tension before they hit the back of V’kol’s acceleration chair. “Sorry—did you say two heartbeats to the light-year? You said, the distance light travels through space in one of your years? Three hundred sixty-five cycles of sleep?”

  “I did. We travel in thirty-second jumps—about thirty-three heartbeats,” she explained, since an average heartbeat was around sixty-six beats per minute. Reaching out with her mind, Jackie corralled the wayward drops, bringing them in close to land on Ba’oul’s shirt and be absorbed by it. “Which means we travel about fifteen light-years per hop.”

  The intercom clicked on, bringing Robert’s voice to all of them. “We have achieved a stable path in the CPP 17beta System, nice boring red-dwarf system, just some burned chunks of rock several light-minutes away on the system’s plane as we traverse the nadir hemisphere, and nowhere near our location or dead-ahead course. You may let our guests know that they are free to move about the cabin.”

  “What did he say?” V’kol asked their interpreter.

  “He says we’re drifting through the edge of a star system with a small red star, along the bottom half of the sphere, and that we should consider ourselves free to unbuckle,” she translated. “Since the doctor will have already transmitted our position to our superiors in the military, that means she should be here in just a few more moments.”

  “Transmitted?” Dai’a asked.

  “OTL requires a great deal of energy to open a hyperrift big enough for a small starship to get through it,” Jackie explained. “But to open a tiny pinhole tunnel just big enough to transmit a communications signal means that the signal takes roughly 150 light-years per second.” They all turned and stared at her. Even Shi’ol, wide-eyed with a strange mix of disbelief, hope, and even a touch of awe. Jackie faltered for a moment, then finished her explanation. “At the distance where we met you, almost that many light-years away, we had only a single second’s worth of lag in communicating with the main hub on the station we’re headed for.”

  Li’eth pulled free of his seat, twisting to grip the back of it so he could face her. “You have a way to talk with planets light-years away? Right now? This very second?”

  “I have no idea what he’s saying, but his legs are blocking my way,” Maria stated from the hatchway. The captain’s bare feet were indeed just centimeters from her face, and she raised her arm to make sure he couldn’t accidentally kick her. “Also, I would like to strongly recommend that I be the very next person to have a language transfer, on the grounds of medical necessity. If anything goes wrong, I need to be able to understand them instantly, not secondhand. Additionally, I would love it if every last one of them took a shower; my nose is rather sensitive to certain smells.”

  “I will concede your reasoning, Doctor,” Jackie allowed. “I’m sorry I hadn’t thought of it, or I’d have done you second, not Dai’a . . . but at least I now have their language solidly implanted from two different perspectives. That’ll make transferring it to you a lot more accurate.”

  Li’eth looked between them, then addressed the others in V’Dan. “I told you the prophets all said the Motherworld would bring powerful new technologies into the Alliance to help us win the war.”

  Jackie blinked. That had not come up during their language transfer. In Terranglo, she asked, “Li’eth? Your people have had precognitive visions of meeting us?”

  He nodded, switching to Terranglo as well. “It is written in the Book of the Sh’nai for all to read, and said to have been penned by the Immortal High One herself. The translation is approximate, but the essence of the passage is, ‘When the tentacled ones attack, and defeat looms on the horizon, the Motherworld shall arise and guide Her Chosen People and their Allies to victory with powerful new technology and unbreakable will.’ No one can communicate instantly between star systems . . . except for you, which would be a powerful technology indeed, if it is true.”

  Great, more religious who knows whatsit to deal with. Jackie had to set that aside. Not just her disinterest in religious trappings but the entire topic. She switched back to V’Dan. “We will have to explore that option later. For the rest of you, the doctor will be undergoing the next language transfer, so that she can attend to your medical needs more swiftly. After I have eaten and slept, however . . . so please allow me to translate for her now.”

  “I would rather Dai’a did that right now,” Li’eth countered. “Now that I am rested and you are not busy, you and I need to hold a discussion of several matters. I am told you claim to be an Ambassador for your people, yes?”

  “I am not claiming, I am an Ambassador. The only Ambassador we have, as we are a single, united, multiworld government,” Jackie explained. “In terms of military rank, I am a midlevel officer at best, the equivalent of one rank higher than you yourself, a Captain Superior, if I understand how to compare the two systems now. In terms of civilian political power, I am the third-highest in rank in our entire government, as of the moment of First Contact with you and the Salik.”

  “And I told her that I should be the one to make all civilian-government decisions, as a Countess of the Empire,” Shi’ol asserted. “There is no one here of higher civilian rank than I.”

  (I hesitate to breach your privacy, Li’eth,) Jackie sent to him quickly, silently, on the heels of the other woman’s assertion. (But I know that you outrank her—and you and I need to discuss my people’s ethics about knowing versus discussing such things, versus the very real need to make sure this First Contact is handled with appropriate care and decorum, rather than arrogance and rank-pulling.)

  (Agreed,) he sent back, holding up his hand to silence his logistics officer.

  (I took the liberty of claiming this mission is still a military-based matter at the moment, and thus my government will treat these moments as military-over-civilian authority for the time being,) she added quickly. (We can continue to use that excuse for a while, if you like, though it will need to be resolved.)

  (Clever.) Out loud, Li’eth stated, “At the moment, I am still in charge, Leftenant Superior Nanu’oc. I also know more about what the prophets had to say about this moment than any of you—certain information marked for a captain’s eyes only, just as I knew our ship in particular was targeted by prophecy. I will therefore remain in charge. Stand down and be silent until you are enlightened, Leftenant Superior. Is that understood?”

  She narrowed her blue eyes for a moment, then bowed her head slightly. “Understood. Sir. But I will remind you as a Countess must remind a commoner that you are not allowed to make any civilian agreements with these people, unless and until you can prove you have the Empress’ authority to do so.”

  “That goes for you, too, Countess,” Jackie stated mildly, joining the conversation. “As we have just met, you do not have that authority yet. The only one that can be said to count right now is military authority—much as a border guard has the right to permit or deny passage to anyone, even to a civilian diplomat.” Her interjection earned her a sharp look. She changed the subject. “Dai’a, please do as your commanding officer requests, and translate for our doctor. Your Captain and I will hold our conversation in the corridor. Much of it will be done via mind-speaking, what we call telepathy, so that we do not disturb anyone else.”

  Taking her drink bag with her, she exited through the back door. Li’eth and Maria maneuvered to get him past her and her inside the crew cabin at the midpoint hatch. Beckoning for him to join her at the aft end of the main corridor, Jackie caught and steadied him as he floated into reach. She touched him deliberately because she wanted to check on his shielding. It was . . . unsteady. Much better than it had been, but he was starting to come uncentered, and that would cause his shields to spike and flare.

  (First things first, Li’et
h. You and I need to practice your grounding, centering, and shielding techniques. Normally we “ground” our energies in whatever planet we occupy, but when in space, there is nothing of the sort to ground into, and letting those energies drain into the void can be exhausting. So I will show you how to separate out, bag, and purify negative mental energies,) Jackie told him. (We do so by using a similar set of visualization exercises to the first ones, and we will discuss the why as well as how to blend back together the scattered facets of yourself to achieve a very calm and stable, centered psyche.)

  (We have more important matters to discuss, Great One,) he stated, shaking his head.

  Jackie shook hers in counterpoint. (This is far more important. My people have several rules on how those with these mental abilities must behave. You tried to read Maria’s thoughts earlier without permission. I had to stop you from doing that, as that is against the rules. You can send an inquiry seeking permission or denial, and you must obey whichever one you receive, but that is it. You are also, by the standards of my people, very poorly trained. The only way you will be well trained by our standards is if you practice our methods every single day.

  (Additionally . . . once you are centered, it is like a properly and carefully laid building foundation, capable of supporting and sustaining a great deal of effort and pressure. You will no longer inadvertently kick anyone away, and you will be able to keep out intruders purposefully, rather than flail around wildly and uncontrollably, unpredictably, holding your breath in the hope that whatever it is will go away. Again, control only comes with practice . . . so the very first thing we will do is practice. Now that I can talk with you,) she added dryly, (it will go a lot faster, and you can practice over and over on your own while I sleep. Also . . . I apologize for sweeping in and taking control earlier, but there was no other viable choice in order to make the language transfer.)

  (I will practice it in a moment,) he promised her, holding up his hand with his knuckles to her, palm to himself. (Your skills are clearly superior. But we first must discuss what you know about me, and what that means, and what you may have already told the others.)

  (I have discussed very little of what I learned with any of the others, your people or mine,) Jackie said, holding both hands up palm out, Terran style for I’m not going to harm anything, so please be patient with me. They might not be talking out loud, but they were still talking, and posture and gesture were still a part of communication. (We have rules about that, too. Rules which I try to follow closely, as much for my own sake as for yours, but no less for yours as a courtesy.)

  He eyed the gesture and nodded slowly, accepting her mental words. (I shall accept that it is as you say, unless I should observe otherwise. But . . . They do not know who I am. I am uneasy about letting your government know. No offense to you is meant because I do appreciate being rescued by you, but I would rather not anyone decide that I would make an excellent hostage in an attempt to force concessions out of . . . my mother.)

  (I will give you the right to discuss your lineage and political clout, or not,) she conceded. (However, I must also point out that Leftenant Superior Shi’ol Nanu’oc has been consistently acting in ways that my people will find rather rude at the start, and which will only be viewed as very offensive with repetition. Given your surprise at our communications ability, I will presume you do not have that capacity yourselves . . . and by how vehemently happy you were in pointing out its existence, I will also presume that you need our ability to communicate swiftly to win your war against those aliens holding you captive.)

  (No one has your ability to communicate between stars where we come from. Save by actually traveling there,) he told her. (Even planets within the same system take hours, all of it at lightwave speeds, if they do not send a ship via faster-than-light means. But that still takes minutes, hours, and even days to accomplish. So yes, your technology will be crucially important,) Li’eth agreed.

  (Then we are agreed that your people need our technology. This is our leverage over you. Not the fact that you are our guest,) Jackie told him. (Unlike Shi’ol, you have been polite and respectful enough from the beginning. I am certain you are wise enough to continue being polite and respectful. In my carefully considered opinion, it would be far better for you to use your civilian clout to handle this First Contact situation than to keep it silent, or to try to use just your military rank alone. It is still your choice, of course, and I will not discuss it among anyone else unless and until you do, but my people will look upon yours more favorably if you do all the talking and all the decision-making. Not her. Not unless and until she adjusts the way she presents herself, the way she treats the rest of us.)

  He rolled his eyes a little, closing them for a few moments. (I knew she’d be a headache the moment she came on board . . . but I was still a junior officer to the Captain at that time and couldn’t say no. Nor could I justify transferring her once I commanded the ship. She is good at her job, in the military.)

  That had her dipping her head in understanding. (We cannot always choose our companions. Lieutenant Brad Colvers hates psis because his betrothed was one, and she abandoned him for a fellow psi. He is, however, an excellent engineer and pilot.)

  (I wonder why you would tolerate him, then,) Li’eth observed quietly, his gray and burgundy eyes open once again, studying her in thoughtful curiosity.

  (Because like you, I do not have nearly the power that my rank presumes to have,) she replied with blunt honesty. (I can wield it, and demand that he be removed . . . but that could waste my clout on something trivial. For the moment, he behaves, so he stays.)

  (Then you can see why I am reluctant to wield mine. I have no way to prove it,) he told her . . . but even as he sent that thought, Jackie shook her head.

  (I can sense the lie, Li’eth. You do have a way to prove it, by doing so in front of both your people and mine simultaneously. I can sense in your subthoughts that your crew’s reactions would confirm it.)

  He studied her a long moment, then dipped his head in a sort of slow, acknowledging bow, keeping a wary eye upon her as he did so. (I stand . . . float . . . rebuked, Great One. The legends are true, then; there is no lying mind-to-mind with one of such great power and control as you. I do have a way to prove it, but once revealed, I have not the means to conceal it again. Like you, I would not waste such a thing on something . . . trivial.)

  Jackie sensed an impression of some sort of substance which, when painted upon the skin, looked like skin, even allowed the tiny hairs to poke up through the skin, wrinkled like skin, yet could be tinted to be more opaque than skin. It could only be removed by highly concentrated alcohol, or by months’ worth of time and daily bathing.

  Her gaze dropped to his right cheek—the left side as she stared at him—where she could just make out a slight difference in his cheek under his eye, below the point where the lightning stripe ended. Or seemed to end. There was a thin strip of burgundy red hairs to his beard right where it began. Their guests still needed showers, their hair needed a thorough wash, combing, and trim, and the three men could all use a shave. Particularly since it showed the truth of where his jungen stripe actually ended.

  This face-covering, she got the sense from him, was a substance used by actors to take on different roles, to disguise their current jungen marks and to apply new ones. It could also be used to fake jungen in those who had none, though permanent tattoos were more the usual solution. It lasted for up to three weeks, too . . . V’Dan weeks, since she didn’t know the Terran equivalent . . . and he had applied a fresh layer the very morning of the day his ship had been lost to the enemy. All of that was in his subthoughts, which were open to her, mind-to-mind.

  If the Salik had known who they had on board, they’d have taken “Captain Li’eth Ma’an-uq’en” straight to their homeworld in the expectation of being highly rewarded for their prize—and the warship’s own commander, who would otherwise never dine in the presence of the grand generals for fear of becoming
a meal himself for such hubris, could have even been permitted a single bite before being dismissed.

  Yes, for the honor of capturing Imperial Prince Kah’raman Li’eth Tal’u-ruq Ma’an-uq’en Q’uru-hash V’Daania, thirdborn child of the Empress of the V’Dan Empire, the Salik would have done quite a lot.

  (You said you would not betray me,) Li’eth repeated, following hints of her own subthoughts and leaping ahead to a conclusion.

  (No, I will not. The choice is still yours . . . but to quote an old piece of our culture, “These things must be done delicately.”) She mulled it over, withdrawing her mind slightly so that she wouldn’t muddle his thoughts. (I think the revelation should come, not on this ship, but when we are holding the first formal interrogation of your people,) Jackie told him.

  She made sure to flavor the word interrogation to mean intense questioning session only, and not, say, threats and blackmail and possible torture would be involved. For one, she would not put up with such things. For another, neither would the law, and the law was the law, with no one above its reach.

  Li’eth in turn spent a few moments thinking. He finally raised his brows. (You mean, when we are all together at once, being viewed . . . I should make my revelation and remove the cover-up, so that the reactions of my own crew to the truth will carry the weight of my proclaimed authority?)

  (That was my thought, yes,) she agreed. (It occurred to me fairly early on that your jungen marks had to be covered up because they seem to be fairly unique, like fingerprints are unique. Particularly a stripe that covers and colors an eye.)