by Jim Rudnick
The Lady St. August allowed a moment to pass, then looked over at the captain to her right, and said in a slightly sarcastic voice, "and agenda point number two, Captain?" and then squared herself away to face Sachem Hassun directly.
Tanner squirmed only a bit and then nodded.
"Yes, my Lady, it's now the turn of the Barony to make their offer to the Ikarians—number two, yes—that's where we are," he said dryly and almost rolled his eyes at her but didn't quite give offense—at least as far as she could tell.
"Sachem Hassun, as you know, my Royal family is the ruling noble family of the Barony of Neres, a realm of nine planets about thirty-four light-years away from us right now. We have a variety of various settlements on those planets, and some have millions of inhabitants and others a few thousand as they are growing.
“But one thing we also do have is a planet, a planet that is empty of any sentient life forms but is ready and yes, eager for new inhabitants. Inhabitants like the Ikarians on your ship, Sachem," she said as she stared directly into those blue eyes opposite her.
Hassun looked at her waiting for more.
"The planet has an enviable climate, great huge continents, and the sea and land are populated with game and fish, and the life that one could lead there would be everything that the Ikarians would hope for ... your future, Sachem, lies on Throth ... the name of your new home world," she finished off.
Hassun sat and looked down at his desk pad in front of him, and he toyed with the pen at the edge of the pad.
"Do both planets have game that we as a nomadic culture would and could live on?"
Helena nodded and said yes but was interrupted by the Premier over on the Novertag side of the table.
"In all honesty, Sachem—sorry I must speak on that—but as I said, in honesty, our own continent, Yassuk, has huge migratory herds of various four-legged game and their own predators too. Hundreds of thousands of various species that roam the vast continent that as yet has not a single living human or alien living there. Our seas teem with and are full of all kinds of fish and seafood of all types and species. Our skies are alive with birds of all kinds, and they sometimes block out the sun as they fly over Yassuk, the new home of the Ikarian people. Yes, Sachem, a society could be built that could survive and prosper on that kind of a pastoral, nomadic life ... and we think that Novertag should be your choice. But before you move on, Lady St. August, care to comment on what the Ikarians would find on Throth—if you would do so honestly?"
He stared not at the Ikarians to his left but directly at the Barony side of the table and held out his hands palms up, as if hoping that her words could be taken at face value.
Helena's stomach churned at the Premier even suggesting that she would not be honest and forthright, but she swallowed that as this man held a seat at the Council table.
"Premier, with all due respect and honor to you and your Novertag Council seat, our world of Throth is a complete world with, I believe, six major continents, seas alive with fish, and plains flooded with ample game. Any initial group of ten thousand new inhabitants would be able to live on Throth and yes, prosper."
She remembered to smile at the Sachem but also to look the Premier right in the eye when she finished her defense of the Barony Throth world.
"Pardon, Lady St. August," the Premier interrupted again, and while not looking at her but at the Ikarians, he spoke to her nevertheless.
"Would you care to comment then, Lady, on this recording that we brought along with us?" he said as the political officer beside him held up a large tablet display and pointed it at the Ikarians while ensuring the display was also picked up by the wall-mounted monitors around them.
The screen jumped from black to a full color display of what looked like a corral with a few small pony-sized four-legged shaggy beasts of some type. They were docile and milled about the trough one could see that held food, and they were simply chewing on whatever food was provided. Brownish looking but almost monotone in color, they had long shanks of hair that fell down between their three ears—if that's what was standing up above the area that was probably the animal's foreheads. Over against the far corral fencing was a small building one could see with windows and some kind of venting on the roof.
"Exactly what is this, Premier?" Helena asked, her voice slightly on edge, "and we were not told anything about this kind of a recording being shown. Therefore, I ask you to cease and desist the playing of same. Immediately, Provost?" She waved to her ship's head of the military police, and he jumped directly to her side.
The recording stopped as Vetochkin punched a button on the tablet and the room froze.
"Stand down, Provost," Captain Scott boomed out and stood as the meeting came to a standstill, and he commanded them all.
"Premier, my apologies, the Lady—um the Lady overstepped her duties here as our host, and I apologize on her behalf. Provost, return to your post. And please, in a moment, please continue to play the recording, Commissar Vetochkin."
He continued to stand and waited for the Provost to re-take his position behind them at the closed doorway. Until he had done so, he held out his hand. Satisfied that the room had been somewhat defused, he nodded to the Novertag side of the table and then sat back down.
"Lady, this is tape from your own Barony research files tendered to the Council about three years ago that shows one of your research stations on a southern continent on Throth. I present it today as a simple look at the 'game' that you mentioned previously so that the Ikarians can see exactly what you are referring to—this is your own tape, Lady ... not something we've 'cooked up' at all! You will see," he said as he waved at his political officer to continue, and the screens relit with the video images.
"Ah, yes, here is one of the researchers now ... feeding time it appears is at hand," he said, and many in the room noted the tone he used was one of sarcasm.
On screen, a person appeared somewhat distant, carrying what looked like a pitchfork full of some kind of dry foliage, and as he approached the animals, they seemed to notice his presence and went to the trough like any tame farmed animals would. But what was surprising was that as the man got closer and closer to that trough, he grew in height until he towered over the animals.
"Wait," Helena said, "those are babies that are still so young that they are ..." she trailed off as suddenly many real live baby animals could now be seen that were nowhere near the size of their mothers ... much, much smaller than what was expected.
"As the Lady has noticed, these are fully grown adults and their young can be seen as well. Note that they are tame animals. Note that they are small—the fully grown adults come up to the waist of the researcher in this recording. Hardly what I—what all Novertagians—would call the 'game' upon which to build a new hunting society ... more like farm type existence, rooted to one location. Then there's the issue of the farming of the grains needed to feed the herds of these tiny animals. This is your own recordings, Lady—not ours—and it speaks volumes."
The recording faded to black.
The Premier was not even looking at Helena but over at the Ikarians.
The aliens sat quietly. Each appeared to be lost in thought, but it was apparent that the Premier had made some real traction with the recording. None of them made a comment and continued to sit quietly.
Eventually minutes later, Sachem Hassun looked at Helena and then the Premier and spoke.
"Do both planets offer full citizenship in their realms to us?"
Again all nodded and then no one spoke for a moment. That moment stretched into another and another ...
"So ..." Captain Scott said, trying to see if there would be an answer at this point, "can I ask on behalf of the RIM Navy, is there an answer that you can tender at this point? Or will you need time to make that decision?"
Hassun was nodding before Tanner even finished speaking.
"Yes, Captain ... after more than 1600-plus years, I would think that taking a bit of time to decide the futur
e of our race would be an allowable circumstance. Agreed, Lady St. August and Premier Sigalov?" he said as he turned back to face her.
She was anything but happy but nodded and gave the alien a big smile.
"But of course, Sachem, take all the time you need," she said furious at Captain Scott for not demanding to get an answer but frustrated since she couldn't show that anger. Her anger it might poison her offer to the Ikarians and she couldn’t risk that ... as if the damn recording hadn't hurt her offer enough.
Minutes later, she sat alone in the conference room, sipping an ice water when Captain Scott came back into the room and she turned to him stone-faced.
"Lady, I wanted to say thank you for the hospitality shown by the Barony and yourself too, of course, for today's meeting. I believe it went well—as far as it went, and I would hope that the Ikarians would agree too," he said, and while he wasn't smiling, she felt that he did mean what he just said. So she asked for clarification.
"As far as it went—what does that mean, Captain?"
"Ma’am, the Yassuk 'continent' is barely a thousand miles long ... and the lack of any kind of a major river system means that much of it is dry, sere plains even though well populated with huge yak type beasts. And Throth, as you probably know, Ma’am, while it has 'game,' most of it doesn't even come up to our waists—that recording was accurate, Ma'am. Hardly the kind of prey herds that would support a whole nation of Ikarians. Ma’am," he said.
Shaking his head, he added, "As far as I'm concerned, Ma’am, the offers are about equal, but it's up to the Ikarians to make their own decision, Ma’am." He spun on his heel and left the conference room.
Wouldn't wait for a comeback, she thought, too bad. Of course, she didn't know much about the Yassuk sub-sub-continent, but at least she now had some more ammunition to spread out over on the Ikarian ship in what would pass as "small talk." And as far as the height of those pony-sized animals over on Throth, some she was sure got above the waist of a normal person—well, at least she thought so. She might have to check. Still, the audacity of this captain would surely need to be considered, but what she could do about the Premier as yet, she had no idea at all.
#
"Sir, incoming ... ah ... Ansible says it's the Gibraltar, Sir," Lieutenant Greelay said as he looked up from his console on the Marwick bridge.
Beyond his station on the huge bridge view screen the huge 1200-foot long Barony destroyer winked into existence and lay at the far edge of the formation slightly above the Keshowse and Sterling but astern of the Drozir, Marwick and Bunker Hill triad. Destroyers were big, but in her Barony china-blue toned colors and the huge Barony crest of its blue and red crown on the expanse of hull above the bridge array, she looked impressive. Moments later, two Barony frigates winked in. The Coventry and the Shield took up flanking positions off the Gibraltar, and they too signed in with their Ansible frequencies too.
Nodding, Tanner said as he sipped on his double-double spiked coffee, "Noted, Lieutenant, and have they anything to say yet?" He doubted they'd be talking to him, as the Sterling lay to port, but one never knew, so it was good to ask.
"Sir, no, Sir," Greelay answered back, and Tanner could see him speaking through his throat mic at someone but didn't need to ask—he'd be told when they checked in with the RIM Navy, and he turned back to the officer standing to his right.
"Lieutenant Paterson, your reports are late—well, at least a bit tardy—can you update me, please, on exactly what the hell that cargo bay down on Deck Seventeen looks like now?" Tanner knew there had been a large amount of new equipment loaded into the largest cargo bay on the Marwick, and he knew that it had changed and most likely drastically.
His chief science officer nodded.
"Sir, it appears that whatever it is they've 'installed' in the cargo bay, only they know about its real use and functionality, Sir. CPO Sharkey—the best electrical officer we have—has been run off his feet, giving them collateral power stations, alternate generator access, complete digital security lines ... Sir, the list is long, and yes, I'll put it in my report for this week too, Sir. But the biggest change, Sir, is this new robo-doc—Sir, it’s bigger but, Sir, it seems to be AI that—at least in my experience—I've never seen," he finished off and remained standing at attention.
Tanner contemplated that and said little. Robo-docs are pretty much the same throughout the RIM as we all get them from the Leudies, he thought. And they go inward for same ... so if there was a new model, a much bigger model it'd be just a beta model.
"Thanks Lieutenant, and the extra personnel we took on over at Juno? Have they settled in okay? Been here, what a month and a bit now?" he said, knowing the answer already.
"Sir, with more than fifty of them, we figured that they might be a bit like us, you know ... all types and kinds, Navy through and through. But it appears that they're all about the same really—standoffish in all things, either in quarters or the cargo bay. I think I heard a steward say that out of these fifty new crewmen, only one had ever even been to the Officers’ Mess—a Lieutenant Nancy Holt, I'm told, who loves her Old Fashioneds—triple cherries, I'm told. Other than that, Sir, they are aloof ... almost like they're in someone else's Navy," he finished off, still at attention.
That caused Tanner to pause for a minute, but then he remembered that the healthcare types were different for sure. He'd met too many in his time in many Navies, and when you brought life and death into it, the psyche of the adherent changed, he'd learned. Different drummer and all that, yet it was still interesting to note that at least one of them liked Old Fashioneds—triple cherries, indeed!
"Sir, Ansible from the Gibraltar, Sir ... on screen?" Lieutenant Greelay said, his finger poised over his console.
A quick nod changed the bridge view screen from a look at the ships around them to the bridge of the Barony destroyer. Facing him was the gaunt face of the ship's captain; one Eleanor Vennamo whom rumors said was a hard-nosed bitch of a captain. She wasted no time on pleasantries.
"Captain Scott, we need to meet—can you come over here immediately, Sir?" she said, and he wondered why she'd even added the complimentary title.
"I believe" he said dryly, "that as the ranking Navy officer here, you might want to come over to the Marwick, Captain ... so ..." He let his sentence trail off as he didn't want to antagonize her, yet in effect, he was in charge here. Even thinking that made his coffee taste a bit sweeter, and he knew he'd need to slop some on his shirt again to go to quarters for a new shirt ... and a shot.
Captain Vennamo nodded her agreement briskly.
"You are the one in charge here, Captain Scott—I didn't mean to infer anything else, but I did want to at least show you the complete labs, healthcare stations, clinics, and cryo-recovery rooms we've installed here on the Gibraltar. If you see them, you'd know just how much the Barony has put into their offer, and if you're ever asked by the Ikarians, you could speak with some authority. Sir" she added with what Tanner thought was politeness. Even if forced, it was good to see.
He took a moment and realized she had a point and then nodded.
"Not a problem, Captain, I'll shuttle over and get the tour ... say at 1300 hours. That suit?" he said, and in his haste to answer, he'd somehow slopped a bit of coffee down the front of his khaki uniform shirt.
He motioned to his Ansible officer to cut the link and rose to speak to Lieutenant Paterson.
"Lieutenant, I'd like you to accompany me on this tour of the Gibraltar—please notify Bram too that he's to come along—let's say 1230 hours in the shuttle bay. See you both then," he finished off and left the bridge for his quarters, taking the stairs just to the port side of the lift doors.
Room in the cup for another nice shot of Scotch while he found a new shirt too, he thought. Wonder if maybe a double would fit ... no sense in looking over a Barony destroyer cold sober, eh!
#
In Lieutenant Bram Sander's quarters, his sense of foreboding was as heightened as it had ever been. H
e was just leaving at his door when the wave of uncertainty hit him—a feeling of anxiousness that made him lean on the bulkhead beside him and freeze in that pose for a minute or more.
For some reason, he knew—he didn't know how—but he knew that over on the Gibraltar lay something that he did not want to face, to envisage, to encounter ... and he knew the reason for that was an Adept officer, an Issian that he'd only ever felt at great proximity before now.
He shrugged himself upright and the door to his quarters slid closed. He walked off toward the lift down to the shuttle bay. Moments later, he belted in beside his captain and Lieutenant Paterson, and they took the quick jaunt over to the Gibraltar.
"Bram, one thing?" Tanner said quietly.
"Sir?" he said, knowing what was coming. His recent escalation in the Adept world by now being able to meld with others had also brought a widening ability in looking ahead—not far he knew—but in this instance, he knew what he'd be asked.
"Bram, I want you to look at every single thing we are told—not what we see, but the person doing the explaining and reasoning. I want—the RIM Navy wants—to know about any back-story, any equivocations, anything said and not meant, or not said and meant.
Bram agreed and reminded the captain that his skill levels were not the best that they could be. He had no intention of telling Tanner that he actually had grown somewhat in the past few months.
The rest of the quick flight was uneventful, and they landed in the Gibraltar shuttle bay and disembarked quickly and were met by a squad of Provost Guards.
"Captain Scott, would you and your party please accompany me to the Conference room on Deck Thirty-eight, please, Sir?" the squad leader asked and snapped to attention at the same time.
"Aye, Squad Leader, we're behind you," Tanner said, and they made their way across the huge bay floor to the lifts located on the central axis of the destroyer. Moments later, they were whisked up, turned out, and escorted to the meeting with Captain Vennamo. They were seated for only a moment when their hosts walked in briskly, and Bram's hackles rose instantly.