As they crested a space wave and the ship’s course finally smoothed, Lissa was hailed by Octi from the navigation station. The blue-ringed octopus waved a fleshy tentacle in her direction without stopping his ceaseless tap-tap of the other seven appendages on the underwater screen that gave him access to the ship’s onboard navigational computer. Lissa marveled at his skill. The longer she worked with him, the more Octi’s skill with calculus and trig made her dizzy—and admiring.
“What is it, Octi?” she strode over to see. Silently, he pointed a tentacle at the screen that was flashing. It showed a sector just north-west and positive three degrees off their current course.
Lissa tapped the silent alarm on the screen, which warped for a moment, and then words began to scroll along at eye level. She read aloud, “Kweep cruiser ship … What’s a ‘kweep?’”
“You’re about to find out.” Octi sounded chipper enough that Lissa was not alarmed.
Drifting toward them from that sector came an enormous spaceship—easily fifty times the size of the Forty-Five. It was shaped like a twirling doughnut and spinning slowly on an invisible axis—Lissa knew enough by now to recognize that such motion would provide its inhabitants with a natural gravitational pull. The outer ring was translucent, much like the Forty-Five’s atmodome, and within lay a deck covered in grass and a spattering of trees.
Clearly, whoever these guys are, they prefer a vegetation motif. She laughed silently to herself.
As they neared, she could begin to gain perspective on the sheer size of the ship. She could see there were easily ten kilometers of grasslands along the inner ring of the doughnut, and its glass ceiling must have been over one hundred meters high. Upon this pastoral scene walked an alien spacefaring race unlike anything Lissa had ever imagined.
“What is that?” she gasped, pointing at one.
Octi looked. “That’s a Kweep.”
Lissa gaped at him. “They’re huge!”
Aewn popped his head above the ladder onto the deck. He grinned widely. “Well, that simplifies matters a bit.”
“What do you mean?”
“That is the 3rd Patrol, flagship of Lieutenant Commander Briar Semo, the senior ranking Space Patrol officer in this galaxy.” The Corian grinned. “That’s why Will sent us here. If anyone can approve your petition for membership into the Universe Co. it’ll be her.”
“They’re hailing us, Captain,” Octi announced. “What do you want me to say?”
Lissa took a deep breath, and Aewn nodded encouragingly. “Tell them we’re the Forty-Five requesting to dock with them. We have three members of the 108th aboard, and Captain, no, Ambassador Lissa Phelps of Earth would like to meet with them.”
Lissa glanced at Aewn for approval of this message, and at his nod, Octi tapped furiously on his Tri-D screen for a moment and then, “Message away, Captain.”
“Thank you.” Lissa’s palms were sweaty and her neck and face felt hot. In an effort to get a hold of her nerves, she wandered over to the helm in order to give herself something to do while she relaxed her tight muscles.
A reply came a moment later from the 3rd Patrol’s con, giving their assent. Data scrolled across her screen, confirming for the Earth ambassador that the Kweep ship had a compatible atmosphere to Earth, a 1.25 gravity ratio, and a clean bill of health.
As they sailed closer, her hand tight on the wheel for fine-tuned adjustments according to Octi’s direction, Lissa saw several Kweeps galloping toward the airlock. Octi maneuvered into a parallel rotation with the doughnut until the Forty-Five locked on like an oddly shaped protrusion.
A quick meeting occurred below deck between Lissa, and her guests and crew. It was decided that Ash should attend as Lissa’s bodyguard, Octi for his knowledge of the Kweep race, and Lollipop, whom Octi said without explanation that the Kweeps would be very pleased to see.
“Krywith and I should remain aboard with Will,” Aewn said, “We're probably facing a court-martial for losing our ship. Diplomatically speaking, it would be better for you to be introduced without us present.”
Exiting the airlock was somewhat difficult seeing as the artificial gravity of Lissa’s ship was now perpendicular to the naturally occurring gravity of the spinning doughnut. They were forced to clamber over the side of the ship and then swing onto a ladder and climb “down” at a ninety-degree angle.
Lissa and Ash both managed it, with Octi sitting on Ash’s shoulder, his tentacles draped about his neck like a sort of odd scarf, and Lollipop hugged tightly in Lissa’s left arm.
3rd Patrolship
When her stomach stopped doing flip-flops from the gravity shift and the airlock had deposited them on the grassy surface of the Kweep ship, Lissa got a better look at their hosts. They were each at least six meters tall—towering hugely over the humans, with four legs and two shorter arms that had hands with three long fingers. They had small torsos in ratio to their extremely long legs, much like a giraffe, and large heads that resembled the hammerhead shark on Earth. Lissa noticed that their skin was smooth and gray—also like a shark—and they had curious antennae like a pair of horns on their heads. With their having no mouths, Lissa wondered how they would communicate with these large aliens. Her translator bot floated forward but was silent as the Kweeps approached.
There were three in the greeting party, the first of whom bowed his long legs in welcome to them all. As he did, Lissa heard a booming voice echo through her head, “I am very happy to see what excellent care you have taken of that sprout.”
“Sprout?” Lissa blurted. As her mind caught up with her mouth, she realized that the Kweeps were telepathic. No sound had touched her ears yet she could clearly hear his words in her head.
“The being you call Lollipop.” The Kweep stamped one large hoof on the ground near the pink puffball. “Young Friss are just sprouts of the great trees they will later become.” His gesture this time encompassed a nearby tree, and Lissa saw it did bear some resemblance to Lollipop. A deep red fur covered it like bark, and its crown, which she had mistaken for waving branches, were actually eyestalks—hundreds of them—all waving in the soft artificial breeze of the ship. Several of these floated down to get a better look at the newcomers, and Lissa found herself surrounded by blinking eyeballs, all strangely curious and looking on Lollipop with some recognition.
“That is so weird,” she heard Ash mutter.
“The Friss are a native tree of our home world,” the Kweep explained. “While we do not need their assistance to communicate with other beings, as most species do, we still enjoy their company and many agree to be planted on outbound ships such as ours.”
“They’re sentient?” Lissa wondered aloud.
“Of course,” And she got the impression of polite surprise.
“Sorry, this is all very new to me.” Lissa opted for a polite curtsy in his direction. “I suppose that Lollipop doesn’t speak in words because she is a baby—a sprout, as you said.”
“Indeed, she is too young,” he agreed. “Now, please, allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Naarl, captain of the 3rd Patrolship.” He gave another bow, which Ash and Octi returned. Lissa curtsied again.
“This is my colleague, Jesuk, our master-at-arms.” The Kweep to his left bowed in turn. Lissa noticed that Jesuk had a slightly darker shade of gray skin, although he appeared otherwise indistinguishable from his colleague. “And this is my mate, Kiij.”
The female Kweep had a less muscular and more delicate frame, and she gave a slightly impatient stomp of her front hoof as she bowed. “Surely they did not come all this way to stand in the grass, Naarl.” Her thought-voice was audible to the visitors as she scolded her husband. “It is very nice to meet you all. Won’t you join us for a sun bask?”
Her mind was sweet and gentle as it touched Lissa’s, reminding the young girl for an instant of her favorite aunt.
“It’s really great to meet you, too,” she told them all. “My name is Lissa, and that’s Ash, and Octi. Ash and I are from t
he planet Earth, Octi is from Europa, and we were hoping to meet up with you guys. We’re here to see Lieutenant Commander Semo.”
There was a moment of silence in which Lissa thought the three might have been privately conferring, for they each shifted back and forth and Captain Naarl made an abrupt gesture, but she heard not a word.
“The presence of the commander on this ship is highly confidential,” Jesuk said at last. His thought-voice was seamed with suspicion. How came you to know of it?
“We currently have three members of the 108th Space Patrol aboard,” Lissa admitted. She cursed inwardly. Why hadn’t Aewn mentioned that fact? “I am the ambassador of Earth and was on my way to a meeting with the CEO of the Galactic Trade Company. We had landed on Jeropul for supplies when we met Captain Will of the 108th. He’s from Earth, too. We had all just sat down to a meal together when Jeropul was attacked.”
“An attack on Jeropul?” Kiij interrupted. “No word of this has reached us yet.”
“What happened to the 108th?” Jasuk demanded.
“They were blown out of the sky,” Ash said, tight-lipped with anger. “The two crewmen ashore with us and the captain were the only survivors.”
“A Patrol captain who survived the death of his ship?” Jesuk repeated, his suspicion still strong in their minds. “He must be called forward to speak for himself.”
“He was injured in a rescue party to save one of his passengers,” Lissa said quickly, “and is aboard my ship recovering. As soon as he is able, he intends to report for … whatever it is you guys plan for him.”
This last was said with enough worry that Naarl assured her, “We will, of course, listen to whatever the captain has to say in his defense when the time comes.” He stepped purposely on Jesuk’s hoof, as though in reproach for the other’s distrustful attitude.
Jesuk stumbled slightly and then recovering himself, added, “It was admirable to attempt such a rescue. I hope he was successful?”
“Yeah, we got her. It was Kiera of Coria,” Ash told them, his voice full of hope that they might have heard the name and be impressed by it.
“Certainly a noteworthy woman,” Kiij said soothingly, and Ash ducked his head, embarrassed at having been caught.
“Regardless of any of this,” Jesuk stamped a hoof impatiently, “why did the captain pass along this highly confidential information? Why are you here?”
“Will didn’t tell us about Semo,” Lissa corrected. “His second mate, Aewn did. Like I said, I was trying to arrange a meeting with GTC, to apply for membership. But Kiera convinced us it’s a bad idea, and said UC would be a better one. We want to offer you—that is, Commander Semo—a deal.”
The three shared another silent communication.
“The commander is not aboard currently,” Naarl said at last.
“I thought you just said she was.” Ash was skeptical.
“Her use of the 3rd Patrolship is confidential,” Jasuk reprimanded him. “But no, she is not currently present. She is on a special mission, and we have been called away to handle … something.”
“I see. Well, can you give us directions?” Lissa asked, finally getting impatient. “We’ve come a long way from Earth and we need to get back soon in order to handle … something.” She didn’t mean to mock Jasuk, but his supercilious attitude annoyed her.
“You said you want to join the Universe Corporation?” Kiij asked, after a moment’s thought.
Ash nodded.
“It was Aewn’s idea, really.” Lissa glanced away, distracted by Lollipop, who had quickly got bored of the adult conversation occurring over her head and was now hunting a bug in the grass. What could she say to convince the Kweeps to help them?
“Aewn thought that, if we offered to allow UC to use Earth as a base of operations in this galaxy, we would be afforded Space Patrol protection,” Ash told the three.
“And Earth’s people would be given the option of whatever kind of government we want,” Lissa stressed. It was why she had even come out here to dratted space!
“You do not like your current form of government?” Kiij asked.
“No,” Lissa said dryly. “I don’t.”
“It is true, we have been looking for an opportunity such as this,” Naarl thought-spoke slowly, as though mulling it over. “And you say you have authority to speak on your world’s behalf?”
“Um …” Lissa hesitated.
“Yes,” Ash said for her.
“You seem uncertain,” Jasuk pointed out.
“Is there anyone who would speak for your claim?” Kiij asked. “Somebody in authority in this galaxy, who could provide proof or witness to your character?”
“You read minds, but you can’t tell if I’m of upstanding character?” Lissa was sarcastic but really, underneath, she felt simply nervous. She didn’t know how Bilderbus would feel about her claiming to still speak for all Earth’s people. But then, wasn’t she out here trying to depose him, anyway? Who cared what he thought?
Ash nudged her shoulder, bringing her back to the present. “What about Mr. Piff?”
“Look …” Lissa held up her hands; this was all getting out of control. “I’m sure if you want, you can contact Mr. Piff on the 32nd Patrol; he’ll vouch for us.”
Naarl pressed a soothing thought in her direction and she tried to shove back her irritation.
“It’s perfectly understandable that you would want proof of our intentions,” she tried again. “I’d be just as suspicious,” that was a lie, “if I were in your … um, position,” Kweeps did not have shoes. “But I think you’re kinda overlooking the most important point here.”
“Which is?” Jasuk demanded.
“We came here to offer you something you want.” She gave the master-at-arms a wide-eyed innocent look. “This is as much an offer of friendship as it is a deal.”
“You need a base of operations,” Ash said. “We need freedom from our oppressive government—tyranny, slavery, the works. Apparently, you guys specialize in freeing people from that sort of thing.” His glance upward was skeptical.
Kiij’s thought-voice was bristly with indignation. “We certainly do!”
More private conversing, and then, “Lt. Commander Semo is currently aboard Space Station 42, trying to convince its inhabitants to do the very thing you are suggesting,” Naarl admitted at last.
“Except they have no oppressive government there, and hence the difficult negotiations that are currently underway,” Kiij added.
“Oh, good. We were heading that way anyhow,” Octi interjected.
“We will send word to the commander to expect you,” Kiij said, her smooth diplomatic thought-voice restored along with her aplomb.
“Thank you.” Lissa smiled. They were getting somewhere at last!
“And please, may I extend the hospitality of the 3rd Patrol to all of your crew?” Kiij offered. “Our meadows are particularly fine this time of year.”
“So I can see.” Lissa agreed.
“One more thing …” Jesuk’s thought-voice was cold in a way that made the hair on the back of Lissa’s neck tingle. “I will need to speak to the members of the 108th that you have aboard your ship.”
Lissa looked at him. It was difficult to judge the emotions of a creature with no mouth, but still a chill went down her spine at the thought of turning Will and his crew over to this alien.
Lissa and Ash exchanged a worried glance. But what could they do? This was an internal Patrol matter and they were still outsiders. Even in her role as ambassador, it was undoubtedly outside her jurisdiction. She nodded slowly to Octi.
“Patrolman Krywith, comm officer of the 108th, currently has the con,” Octi’s voice translator also betrayed some nervousness in obeying the command. “You can speak to them directly if you wish, Mr. Jesuk.”
“Very well. I will contact the comm officer and let him know he and his superior officers are ordered to appear. Excuse me.”
“What will happen to them?” Lissa demanded o
f Captain Naarl.
It was Kiij who answered her. “A court-martial is a fact-finding body. They will gather evidence and statements of witnesses—such as yourselves—and determine Captain Will’s liability for the loss of his ship. Other members may be implicated as well if the evidence suggests it.”
Lissa worried her lip, nodding.
“What sort of sentences does Space Patrol pass on these matters?” Ash asked. “It would be interesting information to bring back to Earth about the level of severity and enforcement of laws we should expect as members.”
Lissa thought that was a stroke of brilliance on his part! A perfect excuse to gain the information about the fate of their friends, as well as insight into the judicial workings of UC, before they signed on the dotted line, as it were.
“If the captain is found to have intentionally harmed his ship, or been involved in any way in the loss of lives under his command—which seems unlikely given his reputation—he could face imprisonment up to the term of his lifetime,” Kiij informed them. “If it were determined he was at fault in some other way, such as violation of codes or neglect of duty, but not an outright betrayal, there will be reparation to be made and steps will be taken to ensure he provides what is due to any living relatives of his lost subordinates.” She sounded as though this were a more likely probability.
Lissa felt relieved. “That doesn’t sound so bad. You don’t space people, then?”
“A barbaric practice!” Captain Naarl bit out in disgust.
Lissa agreed wholeheartedly. Although … “Then why did Mr. Piff do it?”
“Space Patrol is bound to follow the laws and codes of the sector in which it operates,” Jasuk answered. “If Mr. Piff did so, it was because that is the law—not because he wanted to.”
“Besides,” Kiij said, “there is no need to be too concerned about your friends from the 108th Patrol. There is always the possibility of an acquittal. After all, if his ship were attacked while he was ashore and simply blown out of the sky without warning, that is hardly his fault. He will have to undergo a period of probation, of course, and there would be a mark on his record for losing his entire command, but that is all. He could even be commended for saving what lives he could and reporting back immediately with vital information about this invasion you spoke of.”
Space Patrol! Page 15