by E. M. Haeger
"Yes," agreed the President, assuming they meant well. "The loss of life is always a great tragedy. As such, it has been greatly discussed among our people." She waited to see if her words were sinking in.
"Go on." Galentide gestured with a hand.
"As a result, we have decided that it would not be fair to let this tragedy go unpunished. That is the reason for our visit today. To request proper reparations for such carnage. On Earth, such an act is punishable with a prison sentence, a period of confinement and reflection for the one who transgressed. At the very least, we demand this."
"Demand." Galentide said the word blankly as if he didn't quite understand the meaning.
Wrong word. I closed my eyes.
"We request," the President corrected.
When I opened them again, Rhine and several of the other military men had shifted closer to her side.
"In the past few months, we've developed enough of a relationship to request this for the crime that has been committed by one of your people against one of ours."
Galentide studied her, dark eyes unfathomable. He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating slowly throughout his chest and then outward until it filled the room.
"According to our laws, Madam President, a female may defend herself against a male who breaks code. Perhaps if we were on your planet, you might have the right to punish those who transgress. On our ship, you must abide by our rules, yes?"
The President considered. "Yes." Her posture slipped a little. "I would have to agree to that."
I sighed. It had been a long-shot anyway.
"Agreed." Galentide gestured dismissively. "Besides. Where are our...reparations...for the loss of life you have caused?"
No. Kymera would have told me.
The President proceeded cautiously. "I wasn't aware any of your people had perished."
It was the honest truth. If Kymera had told me, I would have reported back. I clenched my fists.
"Indeed," Curran interrupted. "Approximately twenty. Only from the main ship. however. It doesn't seem to have spread as strongly among the rest of the armada."
Thank god.
"We weren't aware," the President repeated.
"No," Curran agreed. "You couldn't have been." He glanced meaningfully at Galentide. A look passed between them. "We've kept the number secret even from our own people so as not to induce panic."
The President nodded. "I understand."
"Our scientists are working on a cure as we speak," Curran continued, and I detected a bit of defiance in his posture. Or maybe it was pride. "It is only a matter of time before we crack it." He looked directly at me. "We have Lena Cordell to thank for providing us with a sample of your own vaccine. It will be put to good use."
The sample?
Kymera and I had tried, repeatedly. None of our trials had succeeded so far, but Curran was confident they were nearing a breakthrough? It didn't make any sense. Unless they truly were keeping secrets and Kymera's reluctance to let me help her patients had less to do with their fear of me and more to do with Etrallian politics.
I nodded to Curran and smiled politely. "Glad I could provide assistance." Purposefully, I met Galentide's eyes. "And my condolences on the loss of your people."
Later, when we were back in the good graces of the Etrallia, all past transgressions laid aside, it occurred to me that the root of our current predicament was still a lack of intelligence.
On Etrallia territory, their rules reigned supreme. Would we have handled things any differently? I imagined an Etrallian guard harassing a female back on Earth. If she had shot the guard point blank, would we have blamed her?
The next day, I managed to get Henry alone. As usual, he was quiet as he walked me back to the pod where I was to return to Earth for the night. In an alcove near the landing bay, I stopped, considering how best to broach the subject.
"Henry," I began. "I wonder if I might ask you something."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, but he otherwise seemed open to the matter.
"I'm afraid my people are lacking in knowledge of Etrallian laws and customs and I was wondering if you might explain a few things to me..."
Henry tilted his head slightly. "You know the basis of our customs, surely. The hierarchy."
I remembered the brief two weeks of training I'd received on the Base prior to meeting him for the first time. "The basis, yes. But what about the penal system?"
"I don't understand," he admitted.
"Punishment. For a crime committed."
He nodded and thought for a moment. "It is...very serious."
I waited for him to gather his thoughts.
"Someone who breaks code or breaks a law, as you say, they could be thrown out the airlock for such an offense."
"You only get one chance?" Surely, he didn't mean every crime.
"We live in confined space," Henry explained. "Bad people...there is no need for them. They put the greater whole at risk."
"I see." They valued utilitarianism, then. The greater good always came first. Still, it seemed harsh, medieval even, to flush every offender out an airlock, thereby taking their life no matter the crime. No wonder they thought we'd gotten off easy.
"That would be the only time that killing is allowed aboard ship."
It made sense in an archaic sort of way. In order to keep people from murdering freely, they had to have rules about when it was okay to kill.
Henry's words stayed in the back of my mind for a long time.
MARS
Apparently, in space, you get one chance. If you blow it, you're dead. According to Lena, the Etrallia lived by a code and they governed like a bunch of badasses.
"So, I guess this means we shouldn't even think about stealing their giant purifier, right?"
Rhine snorted.
"What it means," said Lena, "is the fact that they've chosen to forgive us for the epidemic we caused is a very rare occurrence. We shouldn't take it lightly. When we return tomorrow, we've got to start focusing on how we can help them. The more we help, the more likely they'll let us use the water converter."
Return?
"And here I was hoping I wouldn't have to babysit you two like a couple of children anymore." Heavily, Rhine lowered himself into his seat.
"What about him?" I nodded to Henry who was still waiting dutifully outside the pod to watch us depart. "Shouldn't we start with him?" I fastened my safety buckle. "Since he seems to talk to you and everything."
Lena opened her mouth, but Rhine interrupted.
"I don't like it," he muttered. "The way he has to follow us everywhere."
"Henry?" Lena turned to regard him incredulously. "He's harmless," she insisted. "He might be an Etrallian Guard, but he's friendly enough."
"That's it exactly."
I couldn't say I blamed the Major for his suspicions.
"I quite like him," said Lena, and I half-wondered if she said it just to annoy Rhine.
"Like him?" Rhine raised an eyebrow. "The alien from outer space that may or may not be here to destroy us? Christ Almighty. How did I ever get assigned to you two?"
"Hey," I piped up. "I never said I trusted them."
"Yeah, but I bet you think our little escort is a nice guy." Rhine shoved his buckle shut with a harsh click.
I frowned. "He's alright. Though I don't have much experience in judging Etrallians." I figured Henry could be exactly as he seemed, but there was always a chance he wasn't. Maybe the Etrallia had some kind of gift when it came to deception. Or maybe we were just being paranoid.
Our pod detached from the mothership, floating outward into space. Lena was still standing. She faced Rhine. "Why are you so against this alliance?"
"Against this--" the Major drew a rough breath, schooling the anger from his features. "I am here to make sure this alliance survives."
"So are we, Major." This was the Dr. Cordell I'd met on the Base several weeks ago. The one who worked out in the desert rescuing idiots too s
tupid to save themselves, all because she cared about people.
I, on the other hand, was under no illusions. Sure, it was fascinating to be one of the first to meet an alien species, but I wasn't here to influence the destiny of mankind. These two clearly hadn't checked their pay stubs lately.
Rhine and Lena continued to stare at each other in angry silence.
I clutched for the non-existent handrails in preparation for our entrance back into the atmosphere. No question about it, tomorrow was going to be a long day.
LENA
If you asked me if I sat Henry down on purpose in order to pry for more information, I'd have to say no. It wasn't by design, though I can understand why others might think it was. Instead, it was the natural progression of our relationship.
Besides, walking with him to the break room for lunch was something we did every day. It just so happened that today, Mars and Rhine weren't with us.
The President had personally asked Mars to reach out to the engineers to continue building a good relationship where the desalination machine was concerned. And Rhine didn't exactly know that I'd left for lunch without him. He was currently passed out in a chair in the med bay, clearly having suffered a rough night's sleep. And to continue in absolute honesty, I was still pissed at him.
If wasn't a difficult thing, then, eating alone with Henry instead of in our usual group. If anything, it was oddly peaceful. Henry didn't talk much, but as I'd discovered, this was typical of an Etrallian. He and I had developed somewhat of a companionable silence that I liked to think resembled friendship.
Half-way through our meal, however, I couldn't stand it any longer. "What is it like?" I asked. It was a question that had been burning at the back of my mind for a while now.
"What?" Henry looked up from his plate.
"What's it like traveling across space in a few small ships?" I couldn't imagine it. Living in a confined space like the armada and having to see the same people every day.
"That is a hard question to answer." He pondered for a moment. "What is it like on Earth?"
How could you describe Earth in a single sentence? "It's...beautiful. It's home."
He nodded. "My home is the armada."
But was it? Now, I had to ask. Not for my team or for my people, but out of utter curiosity.
"Henry." I tentatively set down my fork. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but where did you come from? I mean, don't the Etrallia have a home planet?"
Henry's face slowly darkened. "My home planet is dead."
I immediately regretted asking.
"It used to be a great civilization." He shrugged one shoulder gently. "Home to millions of souls." For a moment he seemed lost to himself, drowning in memories of the past.
"So, you left home." It made sense, I guess. They'd never claimed to be travelers or explorers. "But how did you find us? How did you find Earth?"
The silence stretched and I could see Henry weighing something in his head, something he didn't want me to know, or maybe wasn't supposed to tell me.
"We were lost," he finally admitted. "We've been lost for a long time. Our charts do not extend beyond the Squari star system."
"Squari..."
"It is what you call the Andromeda galaxy. Within this galaxy was the planet, Eros."
"Your planet."
"Yes. I will tell you the story, Lena of Earth." He leaned forward conspiratorially.
I smiled. "I'd like that."
"It is not a long story, though the passage was long."
I wasn't sure exactly what he meant, but I didn't question him.
"We were lost for ages...an armada of Etrallia amid an empty universe. Outside, it was cold and dark and lifeless. And inside, we were beginning to grow cold as well. As supplies dwindled so did my people's hope. It was almost time to begin the culling and then suddenly, a planet so blue. It appeared out of the blackness of the void like a gift from the gods. So many thought they were dreaming. But then our sensors picked up water...and life." He laughed suddenly, a deep chortling sound. "Life, Lena." His eyes grew wide. "We stumbled upon a refuge. It was what you call...a magic."
A small smile pulled at my lips. "A miracle," I corrected.
"Miracle, yes."
"So, you left your planet. Your home." I started backtracking in my head. "That must have been difficult." I met his eyes. Surely, he didn't mean...
"I've never seen it." He watched me solemnly. "Eros is only a story."
I didn't know what to say. This wasn't anything I had anticipated--anything we'd anticipated.
"I was born aboard the sixth airship," Henry explained. "As all Etrallia are now."
I tried to keep my jaw from hanging open. He was saying they'd been lost in space his entire life. We'd already done that math and Henry was no older than me in Earth years. To be lost in space for thirty years?
I took a small breath to calm myself. I needed to know more and so much less at the same time. "How long have you been traveling exactly?"
Henry seemed to sense my caution, my tentative effort to keep the conversation going.
"Many ages." He picked up his fork and began eating again.
He was being vague on purpose, I decided.
"Henry," I said playfully. "Surely, you know the conversion for human years by now..."
He lowered his voice. "I shouldn't."
"Shouldn't what?" I insisted. "Tell me how long you've been lost in space? Henry, come on. You said you were a hatchling, barely thirty."
"If I tell you, Lena Cordell, we must swear to be honest with each other."
I didn't think that would be a problem. It was why we were here, after all. To share information. "I swear it, Henry."
"My people left Eros over one hundred Earth years ago."
In bits and pieces, he continued his story. The Etrallia hadn't left because they were feeling adventurous. They left because they were dying.
"Eros was not unlike Earth," said Henry wistfully. "I never experienced its beauty myself, but our archives hold pictures. It had perhaps half the number of oceans as Earth, but it was very pleasant."
In the beginning, it was enough. Eros was a plentiful land, the birthplace of life that would come to be the Etrallian race. At one point, it was full of promise.
That was thousands of years before Henry's time. His ancestors had known only death and sacrifice. When the water started to dry up and they crunched the numbers, they'd come to a dire conclusion. They couldn't keep reproducing and hope to remain on their beloved planet.
As others died around them, the Etrallia prepared for a long voyage. Several hundred boarded the armada for a one-way ticket into the universe. The hope was that they could discover a way to save their race and if not, that their people would live on, surviving as refugees out in the void.
"You left in search of water." There was so much that made sense now. I was almost dizzy as I considered the implications.
"There's more," said Henry. "Though we checked every viable star system, we could find no place like Eros. We couldn't find a planet with liquid water and a sustainable atmosphere. If we had, we could have converted enough water to fill our reserves. Instead, we waited and hoped."
His eyes were very far away. "This lasted for generations," he explained, "but when I was very young, we came upon a planet in the Zion nebula that looked like the perfect candidate. Its atmosphere was breathable and the sensors were picking up water along the surface."
I imagined the Etrallia's excitement at having found a planet that could sustain them.
"We sent drones to investigate and then a landing party. The people we encountered there called themselves the Zoron. And they needed our help. The water we'd picked up on the surface of their planet was all they had left. Just like us, they were dying. We, with our limited resources, could do nothing. After much debate, the Council voted against lending them aid. And so we left the Zoron to their extinction."
I sucked in a breath. "You let them die?"
"We failed them." Henry studied the table.
The clock was already ticking. What were they supposed to do? Sacrifice their own?
"It wasn't your fault," I said, completely sure of it. "It's not the Council's fault that they decided to protect you and it's not your fault because you were only a child."
"And now we find ourselves in a similar position." Henry met my eyes. "We throw ourselves upon the mercy of an alien species and hope they will make a different choice than we did." He shook his head in disgust. "Maybe we don't deserve water."
I considered this for a moment. "Henry, why didn't you tell us?"
He answered readily. "I was commanded to keep it secret from you. We were to establish ties...a diplomatic relationship. Believe me, asking for assistance does not come easy."
I closed my eyes. "How long?"
He knew what I was asking. It was the hardest question of all and I hoped he'd forgive me for it.
"Less than a year." His voice was barely audible. "But I do not make those calculations. The analysts are in charge of predictions."
It was a short time span. A dangerous timespan. And I was the only one who knew how precarious our relationship with the Etrallia truly was.
MARS
I'd been called to the meeting like everyone else. Unlike them, I had no idea it was an emergency, mandatory, high-stakes kind of meeting. So when I wandered in five minutes late, all eyes swung to me as if I might be some kind of enemy soldier instead of the rookie spy they'd made me into. I mean honestly, how hard could it be to get a little appreciation around here. It's not like the world was ending. Or at least, it didn't have to as long the Etrallia had that magical desalination machine.
"You're late," barked the General. He turned back to the others.
"Gee, I hadn't noticed," I muttered, but they had already resumed their conversation.
"One hundred. Are you positive?" The President looked more than a little rattled.
Lena nodded. "One hundred years as we measure it."