by Jacen Aster
Serira, short for a Brillian at only two and a quarter meters, nevertheless dwarfed Henry and Vivian as she somehow drew herself up in her chair, making her already stiff Brillian posture rigid enough to look painful. He kicked Vivian under the table before she could make a snarky comment. Brillian's were long lived, physically superior to most species, and extremely intelligent. Unfortunately, their stagnant society was structured and hidebound in the extreme. To be honest, the stoic, arrogant Serira was pretty typical of the species, and the whole species irritated Henry just as much as they did Vivian, but now was not the time to try and needle their crewmate into losing her icy composure.
Her voice, when she finally spoke, was characteristically precise. “A lot actually. Their shields are a joke. I was able to do a full molecular scan right through them.” Ignoring a frown from Vivian, as she hadn't approved anything that invasive, Serira pulled up a diagram of the good captain on the holotable. “They are a fascinating species. As even a surface glance makes one suspect, they are the first mobile forms of sentient plant life that has ever been recorded. Even that pales in significance, however, beside the presence of an unknown energy type they all radiate. As it spiked in him when he grew and shrank, and he did in fact truly lose and gain mass, I believe it is energy storage for those changes. Mass cannot be lost after all, only converted.”
Vivian broke in, looking at a side screen, “As fascinating as that is, he's almost here. Anything useful?”
Serira glared at her before biting out, “As I was about to say, before being rudely interrupted, the changes don't seem to be conscious. He can likely override them with emotional control in much the same way a willful Human, such as yourself, could control a ‘blush’ or ‘flush’ reaction, but in general, his size changes will likely indicate his emotional state. They also seem to need a slightly higher oxygen level than the usual range. I've already made the necessary life support changes. They are minor enough not to affect us.”
Before Vivian could open her mouth, probably to protest her overstepping orders again, Henry interjected, “So much seemed obvious, but the confirmation is useful. Now, he's almost here. Try not to kill each other while I retrieve him.” He quickly left the room, telling himself he was not fleeing, even if some part of him knew he was deluding himself.
Thankfully, it was a small ship, less than twenty-five meters nose to engines, and thus it was only a few short seconds between the small conference room and the modular docking port. The port had been installed specifically for the expedition, of course, as it was highly unlikely anyone they met in this distant space would adhere to any galactic engineering standard. Henry arrived just in time for the inner iris of the circular airlock to start spinning open. He patted the concealed pocket that held his side arm, ensuring it was there. Just in case.
He needn't have worried. Rekukal was far too busy being awed by the airlock to be any sort of threat. Thankfully, he also seemed to have reduced his height to roughly mimic Vivian's, the only person he had actually seen thus far, come to think of it. Vivian wasn't short by any means, but Henry was a good half head taller, and thus was unexpectedly looking down at his visitor rather than up as he'd anticipated. Not knowing the race's customs, Henry simply raised an opened hand in a common sign of peaceful greeting and addressed him, “Greetings, Captain Rekukal. My name is Henry Harper. Please follow me. Our conference room is just a few hatches down.”
Rekukal didn't speak as he allowed himself to be herded to the conference room, where he was quickly gestured to a seat at the holotable. As he sat, his various limbs were shifting with increasing speed. Henry had noticed slight changes in size and shape from the moment he boarded. Anxiety perhaps?
When the alien captain finally spoke, his words seemed to lend credence to that thought. “I am sorry,” he said, upper arms almost writhing as they rapidly altered size and shape, “But I do not know your customs. I apologize if I give offense by speaking.”
Vivian casually waved his concern off, not that he was likely to recognize the gesture. “Nah, as you might be able to tell from Serira here,” she waved in Serira’s direction, “we're a multiracial expedition, so we try not to stand on cultural customs much. So long as you don't try to headbutt us in greeting or something, we're all good.”
Rekukal stared for a moment and Henry cringed, thinking maybe he should have been the one to play diplomat. Then the plant man seemed to shake, emitting an odd sort of broken, grinding noise. It took them all a few moments to realize that he was apparently laughing. They weren't completely sure until he spoke again. “You are amusing, Miss Vivian, but I do not think that will be a concern. My people are not given to headbutting for any social occasion. Unless that has changed in my time away from the home planet. Still, I feel it unlikely.”
Henry, thinking he'd better steer the conversation a bit while the alien was still in good humor, decided that comment would make for a good segue to other things. “You make it sound like you've been away for some time, Captain. Might I ask how long?”
Rekukal's upper arms made a sort of shrug-like motion, more growing and shrinking than a proper shrug, as he answered. “It has been nearly ten years since I have seen the beauty of the homeworld.” He collapsed a bit into himself. “Though its beauty was already much marred by the time I left her.”
Vivian piped up again. This time, Henry didn't begrudge her question, though it was perhaps a bit blunt. “Yes, about that, you said before that your world is dying. What's happened to it?”
There was silence for a few moments, and Henry thought Rekukal would not answer, but an answer did come. Albeit slowly, hesitating.
“That...I'm very much afraid that is not an easy question to answer. Even we do not fully understand what is happening.” His lower hands moved up to rub at his craggy face, while his uppers rested against the holotable, seeming to anchor him against turbulent thoughts.
“The beginning is usually a good place to start.” Henry knew it was trite, but it was still true. And who knows, maybe this species didn't have that particular saying and he'd sound clever.
The plant-like being drew himself up, taking a deep breath, growing with it until he was almost too big for the chair, then shrinking with the exhale. Though not quite back to the Vivian-size he had been before. “Yes, perhaps that is for the best, but there are many beginnings, and I wonder how long your patience lasts?”
Vivian, looking him in his eyes, took his measure for a moment before answering, “As long as it takes, I should think, to get the story right.”
He nodded slowly and seemed to gather his thoughts before he spoke again. “I will start with a little background then, so that you might fully understand our predicament. Until just five centuries ago, we of the Bralnchie had no idea there was life beyond our own star. We were hardly primitive, we had our cities and sky transports, communications technology and other such things. We are a long lived and peaceful people and much of our time had gone into studying the sciences and arts. Even the Great Builders of the Xeroteais were impressed with our observatories, with our medical sciences and our culture as a whole. Despite far superior technology overall, they felt they had much to learn from our philosophy, our arts, and our way with nature. The latter, of course, because that is our species’ medical science. We could manipulate the land in ways that fascinated them.” He paused, letting out a deep sigh. “They wanted to uplift us, to take us to see the stars. Something we ourselves wished we could do. Sadly, it was not possible. There was a reason that we had not left our home, and not even the Xeroteais could change that.”
Serira looked confused, an odd expression on her. She spoke up for the first time since Rekukal entered the room. “What do you mean? Was there a cultural issue? Religion perhaps?”
He gave another of his odd laughs, though it was low and somehow sad even to their ears. “No. Nothing like that. It was a physical inability. That likely doesn't make any sense to you, given that you can see me here now, in space, but i
t was once true. You see, when the Xeroteais first found us, and in truth even as recently as a century ago, we were bound to our planet by our anatomy. Our internal energy, what we call patho, though I think the Xeroteais had another name for it, allows us to shift our form.” Here he grew half a meter and shrunk again, showing that he did have fine control of his shape when he wanted to. “It, the patho, was generated only by our home planet. We, at that time, did not generate our own, only absorbing what the planet itself gave off, what it radiated freely from its own natural processes. We had never found a way to generate it artificially, and thus had always remained planet bound, not even reaching out of our own orbit. Even the Xeroteais, when they found us, had never encountered an energy like it before, and I don't know that they ever did after either. It is, so far as I know, unique entirely to our planet.”
Serira protested. “But our scans showed that you were generating it yourself.”
Thankfully, he showed no sign of being offended by this, merely nodding. “Indeed, Miss, I am. However, we have only gained that ability in the last century. While it has been greeted as a good thing, it has mostly been a view of salvation, as our planet was already dying. The great shield of the Xeroteais had long turned on us, destroying the planet after having protected us from disasters and invaders alike. When it was discovered we could now survive away from the planet, it brought us hope only that some of us may survive.”
It was Henry that interjected this time. “You've mentioned twice now that it was Xeroteais devices that are responsible, and this time that they are a shield. How could a shield be responsible for destruction?”
Rekukal shrunk in on himself. “That is the crux of the matter, Mr. Harper. The trouble is that it isn't exactly a shield in the sense you might be thinking. I mentioned that we are a peaceful people, yes? Well, we had little military of any kind when the Xeroteais found us. When they came to consider us a cultural treasure of sorts, and learned that we could never leave our home, they determined to protect us from anything that might bring us to harm. We appreciated the gesture, but could never have imagined their solution.” He paused as he took in their suddenly wary expressions. He gave another of those grinding noises that seemed to signal laughter. It was lighter, almost mirthful sounding this time. “I cannot read you well, but I think your reaction means you have some idea of the extremes the builders tended to take things to, yes?”
“You could say that, yes,” Vivian reluctantly replied.
Rekukal made another of his not-quite-a-shrugs. “Then perhaps you will believe what I have to say. They didn't settle for a simple shield around the planet. Oh no, that was far too easy. Too uncertain. Enough power could overwhelm such a shield. No, instead they created a device using the unique energy of our planet to, as absurd as it sounds, take the entire planet slightly out of phase with the rest of reality.”
It took a moment for that to sink in, then the shock rendered them silent longer still. It was almost three minutes before Henry managed, “And this had detrimental effects on the planet?”
Rekukal sighed deeply. “Not at first, not for centuries even. The Xeroteais knew what they were doing. They accounted for the need to allow their ships on and off the planet and the need for sunlight to reach us. Indeed, they seemed to have accounted for everything. More, it worked. When their enemies, and other unfriendlies, came calling in our system, they were never able to breach the phase around our planet. For we would not let them pass, and without our opening a corridor from inside, not even the Xeroteais could come through. But then the plague came. The Xeroteais retreated from our world in fear of spreading the disease to us and we quarantined ourselves using the phase shield. That was the last time, until you happened upon us, that the Bralnchie people have seen any other race. We assume that it was not just the Xeroteais who were driven away from this sector, perhaps even wiped out, by the plague.”
His voice hitched a moment, before leveling off at a lower pitch and slower cadence. “It was only centuries after their disappearance that their device, a prototype made just for us, seems to have begun breaking down. The sounds coming from it changed, the very air grew noticeably heavier, and the planet began to...for lack of a better description...simply break. Fields of volcanoes have risen from the earth, earthquakes and tidal waves that even we cannot calm wrack our cities on a weekly basis. With every year that passes, the devastation grows. Our best calculations have the planet breaking apart in less than a decade. At first, we tried to shut off the machines, of course, but they were protected and beyond our understanding. Then we hoped that the Xeroteais would return to us as they had promised to. We despaired of that, however, and only regained any hope when our ability to leave the planet was discovered. It was then that we began to build Life Ships. Though our starship technology is still very primitive.”
♦♦♦♦♦♦♦
Rekukal had answered many questions the best he could, even sharing the limited data his people had gathered without the slightest hesitation. Eventually, however, he was led back to his ship to take sustenance, none of their food being suited for him, and it had to be discussed what to do with the information. Serira was all for proper procedure, returning to the base on the Transient Planet. Once there, they could pick up a diplomatic team, likely including St. Claire, and make use of all the proper First Contact protocols. In the end, Henry and Vivian soundly overruled her, pointing out that aiding in disasters had its own section in the protocols, and that they needed to discover whether they could help or not. If they could, it would drastically ease First Contact, and what's more, the current situation of the Transient Planet wouldn't allow for a quick response. The least they could do was come back with readings and a good idea of the situation to plan with.
So it was that, a few hours later, with Rekukal's wife and second in command Serasul aboard as a guide, they found themselves cruising near light speed, using the infinity engine to build up the massive energies needed to make a Ringless Fold. There were a few minutes left until the jump and Henry had already done his part for the moment, so he turned to their new guest. In truth, to his alien eyes, there didn't seem to be a clear difference between genders. Serasul was a bit more streamlined, her face less craggy and her coloring more of a rosy red and tan than the deep reds and browns of her husband, but he had no idea if those were gender indicators or just variances from one individual to another. When she saw him looking, he decided to dig for any useful information.
“So, Serasul, can you give us any more of an idea what to expect when we arrive? Rekukal briefly told us what state the planet was in when he left, and projected it would be worse, but what about the people? Are we going to have any problems?”
She met his eyes and made a rumbling noise, one they had heard from Rekukal a number of times, which seemed to indicate they were thinking. Finally, after nearly a minute, she answered him. “As far as our people go, there should not be a problem. We have long hoped another species from the stars might find us, for even the worst of them might have at least been persuaded to share the secrets of their star drives for a sufficient price.” She hesitated before continuing. “That is, of course, if there are any people left. Given the rate of damage progression, most of our former cities are likely gone. Great bastions were built, and it is hoped that they will stand until the world breaks. So long as even one of them remains intact, we will be able to request a channel to be opened in the phase shield, and can be guided to whatever passes as a safehold among the encroaching chaos.”
Henry nodded as he kept an eye on the clock. The jump was nearly upon them. “I see.” Feeling the need to channel a tiny bit of Jack's showmanship for their guest, Henry clandestinely signaled for Preitus to slave the jump command to his console. Using the hand hidden from Serasul's view, he jiggled the power controls, deliberately bleeding a tiny bit of excess power, a mere token of what they had collected, into a blazing corona around their ship. Addressing their guest, he waved his hand at the viewscreen, caus
ing her to gasp when she saw the corona. “Well then, here's hoping for a brighter tomorrow!”
He threw the proverbial switch. There normally isn't much to see during a jump. If you're using a Ring there's an impressive buildup of light as the pathway opens, but even then, the jump itself is generally just a few instants, heartbeats really, of utter blackness, then arrival. With Ring-less jumps, it was even less spectacular. That is, unless you were Henry or a small handful of others who knew this trick. He'd picked it up from a jump-jock on the outer rim who'd used it, in the classic and time honored tradition of razzle dazzle, to impress inexperienced young ladies he'd picked up on some rimward planet or other. Come to think of it, entirely too many of his more showy tricks had been developed for reasons like that. As the corona around the ship collided with the jump corridor, there was a kaleidoscope of colors that exploded out like strikes of lightning from the contact point, streaming out in a flash to cover their vision. It was over before the jump even started, but the after image carried them through, looking for all the world like they were traveling through a coruscating and writhing rainbow of light.
Henry snuck a look around the cabin. Preitus was smirking. He was an experienced jump-jock and had likely seen the trick before. He also seemed to have signaled Teluk, as said individual hadn't reacted. Vivian was grinning and, humorously, had a hand clamped over Serira's mouth. Serira's eyes were, in turn, comically wide as saucers.
He only felt a little guilty about that. She'd probably thought something had gone wrong. Ringless jumps were dangerous. He mostly felt guilty that some part of him was satisfied at making her lose her cool. That was probably a good chunk of the reason Vivian was grinning fit to match the Cheshire cat, come to think of it. Serasul...Serasul looked utterly awed, like a child shown that magic was really real. Henry gave a soft smile—totally worth it. Maybe he'd track down that jump-jock, if he was still alive, and buy him a drink. He had a feeling none of the Bralnchie had a reason to believe in magic for a long, long time.