by Jim Rudnick
"Captain Scott, I'm Captain Vennamo and this is Lieutenant Coriander. Thank you for coming over here so quickly, Sir," she said and seated herself to look at him directly.
Bram paid no attention to the small talk. Instead his eyes were drilled down at the Barony Adept officer who faced him. Her smile was warm looking, but as he peered more closely, he saw that her eyes were not smiling. The coldness of the blue was icy blue. Her eyes drilled into his own, and he was sure directly into his brain. The nursery rhyme he said in his mind’s voice over and over continued to play and hide what he was really thinking, but he wondered why he bothered. This Adept was better than he was, and that was something he'd only felt ... now he saw that right in front of him as he played that nursery rhyme over, and over, and over.
She stared at him and the smile slowly faded.
She's getting nothing, he surmised and upped the volume on the rhyme and kept it up continuously.
Leaning back, she half-turned away toward the two captains who were discussing robo-docs and the power they appeared to be needing and other factors. Both compared notes on their healthcare passengers and what a bunch of un-Navy types they were. Both agreed that they all need some careful monitoring.
Moments later, they got the tour of the various new clinic spaces and the huge cryo-recovery rooms. While Captain Vennamo didn't say how many they could handle at once, from what they could see, it was a thousand or two at least.
Moving back down to the shuttle bay, they said their goodbyes and loaded up to return to the Marwick.
Bram knew that while she was a superior Adept, what was also obvious at least as far as he could tell, he had been able to hold his own ... maybe, he hoped.
#
Onboard the Keshowse, the discussions had been long. Over two hours had been spent in discussions and still there was no overall Tribal consensus on which of the two fine offers to accept. Sachem Hassun had in fact not controlled the flow of back and forth between the offer of the whole world of Throth as opposed to the continent of Yassuk. For a while, there had even been talk of not accepting either offer.
It had been the Shaman Nadie who had spoken against that, and yes, he had gone on and on about their past and the need to honor their Sigil. What he'd been able to accomplish, Sachem Ahanu thought, was to unite the awakened crew behind the belief to go out into the blackness beyond the galaxy.
We live long now, Ahanu thought. Longer than ever before.
I am 241 years old, and I am not even in my prime really. Once I awaken from my upcoming cryonic sleep, there might be no telling to what age I and the rest of we Ikarians will live to be. We must protect our children from what we can determine is the best versus the second-best offer. We must do that with all respect we can offer to them. He made the sign of respect to the Tribal Council leader and waited until Sachem Hassun turned to him to speak.
"It is with great sorrow that I now rise to speak to the Council," he said and noted that stopped most of them in their tracks. Conversations between council members who sat beside each other stopped; no one talked as his words sunk in, and he looked at each of them in turn.
"Twenty-four of us live as the third cohort of awakened crew of the Keshowse. Twenty-four of us who are all 241 years of age and not close to what one could call our middle age. We have surpassed the previous cohort of elders, not by age, but in my minds' eye and I'm sure your own, we look so, so much younger than the twenty-four elders we put back into cryonic sleep 120 years ago that surely the proof is there. We live longer. And we will continue to live longer still. Our Kikinamagan youngsters will age as we have but even longer ... I doubt in 120 years that any of them will even look half as old as we do now. Ikarians age ... but we age longer with each of our awakened crew. And what that might mean for our Sleepers is the real question ..." he said and then turned back to the Shaman to address him directly.
"We know, Shaman, do we not, that the history of our Tribe is one that we need to consider at all times, yes, Shaman?" he said directly and nodded to the three drummers at the left-hand side of the circle of elders as the drumbeats began in steady measured cadence.
"That is so ... we are Ikarians," the Shaman intoned, his words said on every beat of the drums.
"And is our collective memory correct if we all remember that after the comet strikes and the release of the virus, that we had no idea of what we were to face?"
Again, the Shaman nodded and showed his own sign of respect to the Sigil overhead.
"And do we all remember what happened once the climate failed, our crops wouldn't grow, and then the first generation after the comet strikes was born and the ones that lived grew?"
The Shaman added, "Yes, Sachem Ahanu, and we know that it was puberty itself when coupled with the comet's virus that made that first generation live so long—at least that was what our Science Sachems found a generation later. As our children reach puberty, the virus begins to work its longevity magic upon the Ikarian lives, and we lived longer."
"And longer and longer ‘til our world so badly decimated by the comet strikes hundreds of years earlier could no longer support the population that then lived on our home world. We lived so long that the herds we lived on were depleted, our few crops not enough to feed what few tamed animals we had, and we slaughtered them to feed our growing ranks of Ikarians. The virus, in fact, had cursed us to live long enough to empty our world of game and life ... I remember that well as we all should."
He looked at them again, one by one. Some nodded back at him, and there was not a look of incomprehension on any face that was focused on him.
"And the choice was made then, to leave our world ... to find another ... one that would allow us to live as free Ikarians, but one that would also be big enough to let us also age to whatever number we can reach. A world that can handle citizens to live to be 300 or more ... 400 even," he stated and then signed his respect to the Sigil above them all in the Council room. He had them. He knew he did.
"Our children lie sleeping; our future is at hand for the Ikarian race. We need a full world so that we and our progeny can grow, live, and develop—there can be only one offer then to consider ..."
He signed his respect again to Sachem Hassun and then to the Sigil above them all in the Council room and sat cross-legged again.
The talks went on for an hour more. Ahanu believed the points being made by those who favored the Novertag offer were simply challenging his own choice of Throth. There was no mistaking that a full whole world would be a better start for their race.
Some talked of splitting the Sleepers into two parts, one for each offer, and that quickly was discounted by most of the elders. A few of the Kikinamagans asked about details of the offers with regards to this offer of citizenship and what that might mean under the Barony, which was a monarchy. They had no experience with that, and no one could answer them.
Sachem Hassun stood then, took the center of the Tribal Council circle, held up a sign of respect to the Sigil above, and the discussions went silent.
"I have heard you all speak on these two offers. And as the Tribal Sachem, it is up to me to make the decision. I have decided. We will accept the offer of the Barony and take the world of Throth as our own. I have spoken for our race, and we shall live on our new home world as the free people of Ikaria.|
He turned to face the banner that hung over their heads.
"Oh Sigil of the Feathered Serpent Ikaria, hallow our council and make us forever remain as true as we have done for more than a thousand of generations. We plead you to listen to our council and lead us to what must be done. We are your band and we look to you for guidance in our choice of a new world for us to call home."
#
On board the Marwick, the final preparations for the Ikarian party had been done for an hour, and yet Tanner still couldn't get a handle on what he'd been told earlier in the day. He stood at the view-port that looked out on the Keshowse and wondered what to think.
As a part of the
Council offers to the Ikarians, one thing the Ikarians had to acquiesce to was the medical tests that would need to be done first. The resulting diagnoses and test results would be tendered to both the Barony and Novertag officials so they could learn more about their new citizens. Full testing was required, the Marwick had stated, and his XO had arranged with Lieutenant Shipberg, the Marwick's Chief Surgeon, to test all of the elders and about half of the younger ones too.
It had taken only two days to complete the tests even though there had been one issue with the robo-doc that had been somewhat disconcerting. One of the elders, the Sachem of the Delta Row, had almost gone crazy when they had learned she would have to lie down in a closed shell to allow the robo-doc to scan her from head to toe. It appeared that the word 'claustrophobic' was not translatable via their technology. That elder had not been tested, and Tanner figured the scientist who had been pushed and knocked down on his rear end would be fine.
Even keeping the Barony and the Novertag officials here away from the testing on the Marwick had been a real headache, but his simple declaration that he would book no nonsense when it came to any lack of security held sway. The Barony had made offers almost hourly that their own medical equipment and healthcare professionals were so much better, more talented, able to do more and quicker testing, and willing to work twenty-four-secven had to be turned aside time after time. Novertag had simply offered to transport the Ikarians back to their home world a day away for testing at their own medical testing facilities and then right back. That too had to be rejected.
He slugged another mouthful of that wonderful Scotch down and continued to stare out at the Keshowse.
The tests using the medical equipment down on Deck Nineteen of the Marwick had been completed on all the Ikarian elders other than the claustrophobic one. The results were, according to the ship's Surgeon, easy to read.
Each of the elders was in perfect health. Not a single telltale factor had been found that was either out of the ordinary or odd. The elders were all uniformly healthy and in good condition. The numerical quotient that was used was "in late youth" when it came to their age. The robo-doc couldn't really come up with a number when it came to the age of the elders, but it modified the report to show that the elders, all admittedly over 240 years old, were "young."
That had brought some raised eyebrows from the scientists who looked after the tests, and Tanner had no doubts they had also reported this back directly to the Council. He was sure that those raised eyebrows occurred back on Juno too.
But more than that, what was surprising was that the comet virus could not be found. Yes, it was an alien race. Yes, the virus itself was unknown from whatever else might be "in" the Ikarians, but as far as Tanner could make out, from reading between the lines of the overall report, the virus as a live living being could not be found.
No virus. And the elders were ”young.”
The fact that the few younger Ikarians who'd been tested showed exactly the same results as the elders though was the big surprise. They too had been ranked by the robo-doc as "young."
So, scientists claimed, the fact that the elders older than 240 years old, when compared with the younger Ikarians, the Kikinamagans as they were referred to or “tribe students,” were 120 or so years of age meant that the medical tests showed them both as the same age.
He sipped on his Scotch as he leaned on the sill of the viewport and then sipped again.
If an Ikarian of 120 or 240 was the same "age" according to the best medical testing that the Confederacy had—what did that mean when one considered how long their lifetimes would be?
No one knew. That he was sure of, and the scientists were no more aware than he was, and the Ikarians too were unknowing.
That was not the big issue though. The thing Tanner knew would rankle the Barony and Novertag officials most would be the lack of an identifiable virus that could be spun off ... he knew that could be a sticking point for either offer.
If they can't take the virus and generate it for them, then that might be enough of a "no-thank-you" to negate their offer, but that was only his worst-case scenario thinking.
He downed his glass and then looked over at the half-full bottle that stood on the counter. A tall, square bottle of blackened glass with a gold side label, half-full, and yes, still ready to serve so he poured another short one.
Downing it, he made his way down to Deck Fourteen and the large reception planned for the Ikarian announcement and following party. The Provost Marshall from the Lady St. August’s ship, the Sterling, and the XO from the Novertag cruiser the Drozir met him at the door. He nodded to them and then led the way into the large cargo bay that had been outfitted with tables, chairs, and a head table.
He nodded when he was supposed to as Lieutenant Rizzo walked him through the party setups and various protocols. He handled the small items that the Barony wanted done as well and informed the Novertagians about placement of the seated head table. As mutual Council members, they would be equal in all things—seating included. No changes were to be allowed, and while they both grumbled, the two competing Council Members accepted their lot and they moved on.
Within another half hour, the reception room had filled up, and the Ikarians were at the door to enter, and he was "on." He sighed and got up off the small pew against one of the walls and made his way to the cargo bay door.
"Sachem Hassun, I greet you with welcome," he said as he made the Ikarian sign of respect and then swung his hand into the bay behind him.
"Your own seat is beside mine at the head table to the left, and the rest of your party has spaces on the tables that we have marked with their band names. We do welcome you with honor, Sachem!" he said and moved to one side to allow them to enter.
The Sachem also touched his forehead with the back of his right hand, moved into the bay without saying a word, and motioned to the rest of his small party to take their seats. He means business, Tanner thought, and his gut was suddenly sullen with the thought that perhaps this was not going to be an announcement that would be rewarding for the RIM.
The Novertag contingent with Political Officer Vetochkin interrupted the flow of the Sachem, made their own welcome greetings, and then took their own seats.
Tanner noticed that the Barony was not here—yet—and he knew in that moment that the simple fact was that to be a Royal was to be different ... and he sighed.
Nevertheless, the balance of the reception party from Ikaria was seated and the room waited. Tanner retook the spot at the inside of the door. A few minutes later, he was pleasantly surprised when the lift door down the ship’s corridor opened and out came the Lady St. August and her four EliteGuards. She walked slowly down the expanse of deck and presented herself for entry with Tanner who nodded at her.
"My Lady, so nice to have you join us ... may I escort you to your place at the head table, Ma’am?" he said, trying to be sincere. He didn't know if he'd failed, but the stone-faced countenance of the Royal might have been an indication.
She walked directly to the table on the dais and took the center seat—the one that was clearly marked as his own—and he held back any comment and waved away Lieutenant Rizzo who had suddenly appeared with a clipboard and a shaking head.
He walked behind the head table and to the one side of the Sachem and tapped the microphone for effect as the room silenced. He knew the proceedings were going out live via Ansible to the RIM Council meeting over on Juno and wondered how it'd be received.
"The Right Honorable Lady St. August and party, the Novertag Political Officer Vetochkin, and our honored guests Sachem Hassun and his Ikarian party, I greet you all on behalf of the RIM Confederacy Council who are watching via our live Ansible feed," he said. He gestured to the far wall and the large view screen that was panoramically showing the Council in their room on Juno.
The Council Chairman from Alex’n, Chairman Gramsci, nodded to the group on the Marwick and simply said, "Proceed, Captain," and then leaned back to watch
what might be the single most important announcement of his Chairmanship. At least, Tanner thought, it could well be.
"We are gathered here today to hear the answer from the Ikarians—from their Tribal Leader, Sachem Hassun. Sachem?" he said and moved away from the microphone and waited until the Ikarian had taken his place before he sat off to the left.
Hassun looked out to the display of the Council in front of him on the screen, gave the Ikarian sign of respect, and then did the same to both the Lady and the Novertag representatives at the table to his left and right. He paused then, looked down at the floor in front of him, and gathered his thoughts.
Shit, Tanner thought, here it comes. He was glad that he'd had a parade squad of Marwick Provost Guards stationed around the room, and he, like everyone else here and over on Juno, waited.
Hassun looked around the room and then finally spoke.
"We come from a world far, far away, and it has taken us hundreds and hundreds of years to get as far as we have. And we have been both lucky in that we have lost few Sleepers and now the time has come for us to decide where our race will settle and where we will wake our Sleepers," he said quietly, and the room was as silent as a tomb.
"We have listened to both of the kind offers from Novertag and from the Barony. Both offered up lands for us to settle though varying in size; both offered to make our race full citizens of their realms; both offered us full medical and healthcare for our Sleepers who will need to be awakened from cryo-sleep; and both expect an answer now." He looked over at Tanner and made the sign of respect once more.
"We know that we are going to need support, need help, and yes, we will need it on an ongoing basis too. But what we will not need is the kind of study and analysis of our society, our religion, our morality, and yes, our longevity too. We know that you all know that for some reason, when the comet struck our home world 1600-plus years ago, that the virus that the comet strikes unleashed has made its way into our bodies so that we live longer now than ever before."