The Terrans

by Jean Johnson

  The Empress stared through the screen a long moment, then addressed her son. “You informed them of your identity. You trust these . . . people?”

  Jackie had the impression Li’eth’s mother censored the word children at the last moment. She waited for Li’eth to answer her, holding her own tongue.

  “With my life. With your life. And with the lives of the Alliance. I will bring home the Motherworld, and the means to end our war, as prophesied,” he told her.

  Empress Hana’ka narrowed her eyes in thought for a moment, then shifted her gray gaze to Jackie. “You. Ambassador.”

  “Yes, Empress?” she asked politely.

  “You will be held personally responsible for His Highness’ safety.”

  “Such threats are not necessary, Empress,” Jackie replied smoothly. She even managed a polite smile. “I already hold his life as precious as my own. He and his fellow survivors will be returned intact to the Empire. I plan to come along in person for many reasons. The foremost one is that we hope to help establish a Terran embassy on V’Dan. Your people and mine have many things to discuss, ranging from ways we can be useful in your war to things we can trade once peace has been achieved. But as His Highness advises . . . please do not make the mistake of viewing us as you view the markless among your own people. We are not V’Dan, and we will not respond as V’Dan.”

  The Empress frowned, a look more of puzzlement than annoyance. “I am not finding much of confidence in your technology. Your communications equipment appears to be malfunctioning.”

  “I repeat, Eternity, we are not V’Dan,” Jackie explained patiently. “It has taken many days of effort among our top specialists to decode and create a translation program to smooth over the differences between V’Dan and Terran communications systems. We are doing so with zero help from V’Dan source materials. Ten thousand years, give or take a few centuries, is plenty of time for divergent technologies to be developed, and to do so in ways that have zero ability to communicate with each other. In fact, less than an hour ago, you would not have had any visual contact. Less than a week ago, you would not have had audio.

  “Be glad you have more than audio when speaking with your son. Speaking of which,” Jackie added, “the current location of Aloha 31 Alpha, the unit which you have approached, should remain where it is as a backup communications system. We would like to transport a similar satellite into V’Dan nearspace, into an orbit arranged by your people. These units have been guarded against opening and tampering, as the technology is proprietary to the Terran government . . . so it is not advised that anyone attempt to move, open, or otherwise damage any of them.

  “If you do not like the thought of one of them being placed in planetary orbit around your capital world, we can arrange to have it dropped onto the surface of your innermost moon, which we understand is both airless and tidally locked, with one side constantly facing your homeworld. It will increase the lag by approximately two seconds due to the constraints of lightspeed broadcasts, but an eight-second turnaround to be able to communicate near instantly would still be worth the trouble, compared to a couple hours’ worth of lightspeed lag.

  “Technicians, scientists, and medical personnel on both sides of the interstellar divide will have many things to discuss in order to make a visit, and the establishment of an embassy, a success for both sides . . . starting with exchanging units of measurements and other technological background knowledge, so that we can improve the video feeds, among many other things,” she added.

  “We will consider it. When is the soonest such a device can be delivered?”

  “That depends, Your Eternity,” Jackie allowed, tipping her head a little. “If you are willing to put up with visual wobbles and audio static bursts, you can have one delivered as soon as we have established suitable measurement coordination for delivering it into a stable orbit, or to a particular set of moon coordinates. That could be done within a handful of hours. On the other hand, if our communications experts can be given a chance to chat with your experts, we should be able to clear up the problems making the video and audio feed imperfect in a matter of days. To install the adjustments to the hardware and get an updated satellite delivered would take approximately fourteen days on top of that.”

  “Why should we not move this one?” Empress Hana’ka asked.

  “This is not meant as a threat, Empress, but I shall speak bluntly so that you understand that moving it is not an option. Not a safe one. The satellite is designed to explode with enough force to vaporize its entire interior should anything or anyone tamper with it. That means it will cause a great deal of damage to whatever is within close proximity because I can guarantee the structural integrity of its outer casing will not survive intact. Think of it not as a threat, but as a reassurance that our potential mutual enemy, the Salik, will not be able to gain access to our technology long enough to figure out how it works.”

  “It also would prevent our technicians from doing the same, even if it is not meant as a threat to us,” Hana’ka stated with a touch of dryness in her voice.

  “Your Eternity is wise in the ways of proprietary knowledge,” Jackie returned just as dryly. She smiled politely. “We won’t keep it from you forever, but neither will we give it away for free. As I said, ten thousand or so years is enough time for technologies to develop in very different directions. Your ships reportedly take an hour to travel a single light-year in relative comfort. Ours take a handful of seconds, but with the trade-off of physical discomfort. Your members of the Alliance lack interstellar communications. Our people have yet to develop artificial gravity. There is much to be discussed, and much of potential trade worth discussing, in the coming days, months, and years.”

  “. . . You have given us much to consider, Ambassador.”

  “If you are willing to pass this communications channel to the appropriate personnel on board your ship, I can arrange for our scientists to begin finding methods of exchanging and calibrating measurement systems, starting with consistently measurable things such as atomic mass and the speed of light through the vacuum of space as starting points. With those and other basic measurement tools in hand, we should be able to fine-tune things quite a bit better. In the meantime, which quality of probe would you like delivered within reasonable proximity of your homeworld, if any?”

  “We will consider that as well.” A faint smile curved her thin lips, making the straight lines on her cheek swerve a little. “In other words, that means you should begin work on a top-quality version. You can always deliver a crude version at our command in the meantime. If and when our potential mutual enemy finds out we can use these things to communicate, they will try to destroy them, so it is best to have several options on hand.”

  Jackie smiled back, this time a warmer than merely polite one. “Thank you, Eternity. I would like to turn control of the channel over to the appropriate specialists at this time. Once they have calibrated the two systems a little more, we will reserve a channel specifically for you, as the head of the V’Dan government to contact us—the Terran government—and a channel for you to contact your son. If there are any personnel on board your ship who are related to or at least personally concerned over Leftenants Superior Shi’ol Nanu’oc, Ba’oul Des’n-yi, V’kol Kos’q, or Dai’a Vres-yat, we will establish channels for that as well. If not they will be established if and when a probe reaches V’Dan nearspace.

  “We Terrans understand how close families and friends can be, and how much it can hurt to miss a loved one. Even if protocol demands it not be displayed, in case an enemy is watching,” Jackie added, in case that was the reason why the Empress of V’Dan was acting so formally toward her own child.

  “We will consider your offer. Thank you for communicating with us, Ambassador . . . and thank you for rescuing Captain Ma’an-uq’en and his fellow survivors.” The Empress shifted her arm, and her image vanished, replaced by the crisscrossed lines of the Empire.

  Admiral Nayak leaned his hands
on the edge of the console table. “Please pardon my bluntness, Your Highness, and please understand that it comes strictly from within my own culture, and thus has no intended insult meant toward yours . . . but your mother didn’t seem very happy to see you. She did acknowledge your rank, but . . .”

  “I will not take offense because you do not know our culture, Admiral,” Li’eth returned. He dragged in a deep breath and let it out slowly, moving his shoulders subtly to release some of the tension in his back. “Right now, she is the War Queen, and . . . it is not proper to confess this, but she is losing that war. She knows she is losing it. She will throw anything and everything—even her own children—into the path of the oncoming destruction in the hopes that something will stop our enemy. Even if it has to be her own body, to save the Empire. The Salik, unlike yourselves, have had open access to all Alliance technology, including V’Dan communications technology. We know that they can break our best cryptography efforts in a matter of months, sometimes even weeks. It also takes literal days and weeks to deliver the new code systems across the Alliance.”

  “I wish we could speed things up on our end,” Jackie told him, leaning her hip against the table and tucking her arms across her chest. With this jacket, she didn’t have to worry about the buttons popping out of their holes. “But we can’t. We don’t have the ships, yet. We don’t have enough relay satellites made. That’s part of why we’re occupying your time with tours of this and that.

  Li’eth opened his mouth. Admiral Nayak beat him to it. “The ships we send out right now are on a twenty-day trip one-way, just to get to your homeworld. Some of that is time spent processing our version of fuel, which while reasonably abundant in the galaxy, is not swiftly refined. We need the coming weeks to continue to work on establishing supply points for fuel, food, and more. Be glad you get to attend a bunch of parties in various places while you wait. Everyone else is busy breaking in their boots trying to get the resources in place to get you back home.”

  “. . . Sir, we’re getting a message from the V’Dan; they say they have a measurements specialist on the line to help us calibrate between Terran and V’Dan units,” one of the nearby techs stated, touching his headset earpiece.

  “Get Lieutenant Souk in here—you did give him V’Dan last night, yes?” Nayak asked Jackie.

  She nodded. “A full set, sir, along with Master Petty Chun, right after I gave you yours. The master petty’s a minor clairsentient, a very disciplined, intuitive mind, and the lieutenant practices meditation, as well as already speaks three languages, so both only took two hours each. Chun’s in charge of communications maintenance under the lieutenant,” she added to Li’eth, before returning her attention to her military superior. “It all went very quickly, sir, which is why I had time and energy to do two in a row before retiring. Lieutenant Souk recommended Chun when our session ended, and I mentioned I could do one more before exhausting myself.”

  Nayak glanced from her to Li’eth and back, a speculative look in his dark brown eyes. “Are you sure that’s not a result of the Gestalt speeding things up?”

  “That’s on top of the Gestalt speeding things up,” Jackie admitted freely. “Captain Ma’an-uq’en sat in on the session and assisted, at Master Sonam’s recommendation. It occurred to me very early on that we’re going to need a lot of people who can speak both Terranglo and V’Dan fluently, particularly in the military, if we’re to help these people in their war.”

  “How do you figure that, Major?” Nayak asked.

  “It was in my earliest reports, sir. Cryptography can be cracked, but steganography—using keyworded images instead of coded patterns replacing letters and numbers—requires you to have the key to what those images mean.”

  “Right. Navajo code-talkers. I’d forgotten about that,” the admiral apologized. “I think I’m going to have to go back over all of your reports, yours and the others’, before we finish getting you and the V’Dan launched in their homeworld’s direction. I don’t want to miss any other aspect that might be important,” he stated. Giving her a nod, he lifted his chin. “Good work, Major. And good work as our Ambassador. I’ll write up a report for the Council to let them know you handled this meeting well. That is, I presume she did, Captain?”

  Li’eth nodded. “She did make a good impression. Mother rarely smiles.”

  “You call that a smile?” one of the other techs quipped under her breath.

  “Hey! Be respectful, Lieutenant,” Jackie ordered, noting the single bar on the other woman’s shirt collar. “I’d be hard-pressed to smile, too, given what these people are facing. Particularly after finding out not only did my son face it directly, but is now in the hands—and at the mercy—of an almost entirely unknown group of sentients.”

  “Sir, yes, sir. My apologies, sir,” the lieutenant stated promptly.

  Nayak flicked a finger around the room. “Get back to work, all of you. Or back to bed in your cases, you two,” he stated, ending with Jackie and Li’eth. “Sleep when you can, while you can. There may come a day when you’ll need to be fully rested to get through everything.”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” Jackie said, straightening briefly to Attention.

  “Understood, sir,” Li’eth agreed, straightening and squaring his shoulders as well.

  (You know, you don’t have to salute him. So to speak. You’re not in his chain of command,) Jackie reminded him.

  He shrugged as they exited together. (True, but I will give respect where respect is earned. Besides, this is his territory, and it’s clear he’s earned your respect. You don’t suffer disrespect.)

  (You do realize your quarters are in the opposite direction from mine?) she pointed out.

  (I want twenty Terran minutes of cuddling time, and there’s a lounge where we can hold hands and practice our abilities in public. It’s not far from where you’re quartered,) he replied. (That, and my so-called quarters are so small, I start feeling claustrophobic within a handful of minutes if I’m not busy sleeping.)

  (It’s either a tiny closet of a cabin, or you share quarters with someone else . . . and the only person who won’t rub your shields raw is me,) she reminded him. (Even if all we’d be doing is sleeping . . .)

  ( . . . It’s still a bad choice politically. Let’s fall asleep on a couch in public instead,) he offered.

  (I love the way you sweet-talk me. If I remember that lounge, there is a couch big enough for the both of us if we prop our feet on the coffee table.) She caught his undercurrent of thought in the next moment. (Hey, coffee runs the world in this star system. Worlds. Plural.)

  (Planets. You need to colonize other star systems to start talking worlds, plural. We need to get your people out of this system and settling into new places. This “third-child lottery” idea is abhorrent.)

  (Well, excuse us for only just developing interstellar travel,) Jackie quipped. (We’ve had insystem tech for a while, but without artificial gravity, it just isn’t wise to raise a child anywhere but on Earth right now. Their bodies just don’t develop right. Skeletal structure, musculature, stamina, reflexes . . .)

  (Your subthoughts are borderline cranky. Both of us need more sleep.) Catching her hand, he tugged her into the lounge in question. Given the early hour, there were a couple of Mars dwellers trying to wake up over mugs of the noxious brew, but they were seated at one of the tables. The couch the pair of psis aimed for was free.

  (Dibs on your shoulder,) Jackie sent, flopping down in the middle.

  Li’eth settled against the armrest and tucked his other limb around her when she slouched against him. (Sure. Wait, what is this word “dibs,” exactly? Where did it come from?)

  (I don’t know. Now, hush. Napping time, now,) she ordered . . . and received a mental smile and a physical hug from one arm in return.

  CHAPTER 19

  MARCH 25, 2287 C.E.

  O’AHU

  “We should have used the naval base on Ni’ihau,” Ayinda muttered as soon as she joined Jackie and Li’eth
on the beach. The tide was set to come in for a few more hours, bringing with it what looked to Jackie like perfect, calm, easy surfing weather, with puffy clouds that would do nothing but drift placidly on by, and maybe dump a little rain on the highest peak. The navigator, however, wasn’t looking at the surf. She bumped Jackie on the arm with her elbow and lifted her chin at the shoreline. “That, at least, would have been far more private than all this.”

  Houses lined the grassy gardens marking the end of the high tide zone. And on nearly every single piece of property, though they were respectfully staying back behind the flimsy-looking low barricades, throngs of cheering, hollering, waving Terran Humans were busy trying to get the attention of the V’Dan exiting the hovercars.

  “Ni’ihau is a protected reserve for the Hawai’ian culture,” Jackie demurred. “Even more so than northside Kaho’olawe. It’s far easier to get cooperation from the homeowners here on O’ahu to allow us to rope off a section of their beach than it is the people who live out there.”

  “. . . Is it always going to be like this?” Li’eth asked her. “We have been all over this planet, from hot to cold, mountaintop to canyon gorge, and now this beach, and only in the most remote locations have there not been . . . crowds . . . of Terrans all trying to get our attention.”

  “So what’s wrong with that?” Ayinda asked him. She dipped her head to the side, dreadlocks swaying. “Aside from being pestered and annoyed and yelled at, so on and so forth.”

  “It’s . . . It’s their lack of focus,” Li’eth complained, finding the right words. “When they do get our attention, they hardly know what they want from us. Most are not business owners or government employees; those, at least, know what they want to discuss. These . . . masses of people have no business, no agenda . . . questions yes, but purpose, no. Back home, people don’t usually cross the Tiers without knowing what they want from someone.”