Space Patrol!

by Sarah Nicole Nadler

  Stephanie nodded. She flashed a smile at Shiro, who looked like his heart skipped a beat for a moment, and then flounced off into the meadow. He watched her go for a moment, her petticoats bouncing.

  “Octi, take Shiro and make ready to cast off. I’ll follow as soon as I can.”

  Octi scuttled down Ash’s shoulder to tap Shiro on the arm. Shiro tore his gaze off the retreating girl and offered his wrist to the octopus, who took it and sat there like an odd blue-spotted bracelet.

  Shiro let out a shrill whistle to call Rasta, who dove for them, cut the air with her wings at the last instant, and landed heavily on Shiro’s other wrist, digging her claws into the thick leather gauntlet he wore for this very thing. She eyed the octopus far too interestedly until Shiro hooded her eyes.

  “Perhaps Rasta should stay,” Lissa said suddenly. Shiro frowned at her. “She probably needs exercise,” she suggested. “I doubt being cooped up in the hold is good for her.”

  “She is a warrior. She will do her duty.” Shiro’s voice dared them to argue. Then he softened. “But perhaps we will return.” His glance took in the vast expanse of curving meadow and the black starry sky above them where the Forty-Five hung suspended in stationary orbit. “This is a fine way to travel the stars.”

  Lissa thought Shiro would make an excellent representative from Earth to Space Patrol. He was trustworthy, loyal, and had the mindset of a soldier, which would do very well to match the military branch of UC.

  “This is highly irregular,” Jasuk’s thought-voice filled her mind as he and Stephanie paced nearer. “The issue of the loss of the 108th Patrol has not even been discussed yet for court hearing. She cannot speak if there is no one assembled to listen!”

  “Then assemble them quickly!” Stephanie was heard to snap at him.

  “Impossible,” Jasuk said flatly.

  “Surely, you have recording technology?” Stephanie’s voice oozed with teenaged contempt.

  “I’m not so sure Stephanie was the best choice for diplomacy with Jasuk,” Ash whispered in Lissa’s ear.

  “Are you kidding?” she whispered back. “Steph is brilliant at this stuff. Watch and learn.” Lissa grinned.

  Jasuk’s thought-voice took on, if possible, an even more bristly tone. “We are not accustomed to dealing with idle requests in justice hearings. This is an internal matter within Space Patrol fleet.”

  “I don’t think the ambassador’s desire to speak in the defense of an innocent man could be termed an “idle request,” Master-at-Arms,” Stephanie insisted, her tone a touch too civil as she stressed the gaffe he had just stuck his foot into.

  “Actually,” she went on, inspecting her nails nonchalantly, “I’m pretty sure Earth’s population will be interested to know how this trial plays out. How do you treat innocent members who fall foul of vile accusations? Are they allowed the dignity of a fair trial …? Perhaps I should stay,” she said suddenly, as though it were just occurring to her. “Perhaps I should watch the proceedings while the ambassador continues with her itinerary.” The way she said it not only called into question his motives for denying her request, it implied that she had the ear of the people of Earth and might report back whatever he said.

  Jasuk, to his credit, was only offended at her tone, genuinely more concerned with giving Will a fair trial—within the due course of the law, of course.

  Lissa was glad of her decision to leave her best friend behind to tell their story, feeling that Will would do better with Stephanie and Shika there to defend him from an unnecessary penalty.

  Confident now that Stephanie had it under control, Lissa turned her attention to her remaining crew. Shiro left for the ship, carrying Octi and Rasta. Ash squeezed his sister’s shoulder and chattered at her in Ethiopian for a moment, earning him a small smile, before he fell in beside Lissa.

  Tilting her head to gaze directly at Jasuk, Lissa did her best to give him a regal smile as he stopped several yards away—a comfortable distance apart when one of them was over six meters high.

  Does he hear everything I think? Lissa wondered suddenly. Had it been unwise of them to discuss things while aboard the 3rd Patrolship?

  “Hello?” she thought apprehensively in his direction.

  Silence.

  He had never answered anything but verbal communication, she realized, not once since they had come aboard had any of the Kweeps given a sign that they heard her inner thoughts.

  Reassured, she spoke aloud, “We’re leaving now.”

  “You’re going to see the commander?”

  “Yep.”

  “And what of your aide’s request to speak for Captain Will of Coria?”

  “I will make my statement now, please,” she said politely but in a tone that said no argument.

  “It is not only me who needs to hear.” Jasuk bobbed his head slowly in a Kweep sign of disapproval. “I have only today determined who shall sit as chairman on the inquest.”

  “Who is it?” Shika demanded.

  “We would like to speak to this person, if they will listen,” Lissa added more diplomatically. Shika’s bare shoulders were tense with unhappiness.

  “I will listen,” Kiij’s thought-voice spoke in their minds. She came over the horizon followed closely by Naarl.

  “You’re the judge of Will’s court?” Shika asked, hope in her dark eyes, solemn as she gazed up at the Kweep female.

  “I am. I will be the chairman of three who will listen and decide.”

  “Who are the other two?” Lissa wanted to know.

  “A Friss elder has been chosen,”

  “And your Mr. Piff has agreed to be the third,” Jasuk added.

  “Mr. Piff!” Lissa and Shika cried together. The relief that passed through the five humans was palpable. Mr. Piff would know the truth when he saw it. He would be most likely to believe Stephanie’s testimony, as well.

  “That’s great,” Lissa said, smiling at last. “I’ll leave it to Stephanie to tell what we saw, and Shika to stand as Will’s … character witness.” She nodded at the older girl, who moved to stand next to Stephanie.

  “The rest of us are going to Space Station 42,” she finished.

  “Very well,” Naarl said. He gave a deep, respectful bow to Lissa. “I look forward to your presence aboard the 3rd Patrol in the future, when our two peoples are united and your planet becomes our chief springboard for UC in this galaxy.”

  I hope so, Lissa thought.

  “And now,” Kiij said, “I will hear your statement.”

  So Lissa told them. She told them how they had met Will and about his reaction to the explosion of the 108th. She told of his resolute decision to rescue Kiera and his crew’s loyalty to that decision. She told how she had tried to hold him up when he was shot as they escaped, and her eyes flooded with unshed tears as she recalled the horror and fear of that moment. What it was like to realize he might die, and know the dread of it and the understanding of what he must have suffered when he saw his craft explode.

  “No one should have to watch their friends die,” she said at last. “No captain should have to bear the weight of that burden. To know that men who trusted their lives to you are dead and there was nothing you could have done to prevent it—what could be worse?”

  She glanced at her own crew standing silently around them and was moved to see the solemn understanding reflected in their eyes.

  “Captain Will bore it with courage and a resolution to save as many lives as he could and to set things right. A resolution he almost died for when he was shot trying to rescue one of the Corians under his protection,” she said emphatically. “He deserves your respect. He certainly has ours.”

  Nods around the circle from the others proved they shared her sentiments. She looked up into Jasuk’s large black eyes. For the first time since they had set foot on the 3rd Patrolship, she felt accord in his mental touch—firm, as always, and stern, but understanding—as though he finally recognized what sort of being she was and liked what he s
aw.

  For once there was no hostility or suspicion in his thought-voice as he said, “We accept your statement as a witness.”

  “Thank you for your knowledge,” Kiij added formally. “I will share it with the others during the proceedings.”

  Lissa curtsied slightly, and then turned on a heel and walked away. As though they had drilled it, Ash fell in behind her, and they walked in silence to the lift that would take them up to the airlock and the Forty-Five.

  Lissa turned as they neared it and looked back one last time. Off to the left of the small group watching them go she spotted Kiera. The blue-skinned woman was standing with an affectionate arm thrown over the shoulder of her human son. Will’s eyes were grave as they met Lissa’s—but he nodded slowly to her. She smiled suddenly and waved. He brightened at that and grinned back. It will all be okay, his expression seemed to say. Go, do what you have to do.

  And Lissa knew he was right. Whatever happened now, it would at least be in their own hands. They would win this battle of galactic politics, or not. The hearing would happen whether she was there or not. At least she had told her part.

  The lift opened, and Ash stepped inside. After a brief glance around, he turned and nodded to her. Lissa turned her back to the others and entered.

  “Ready for the next adventure?” she challenged the African.

  “Totally,” he grinned. “Let’s go hunting.”

  Justice for Will

  Lissa knew, in a distant way, that she was not dreaming. She stood in the center of a grove of Friss trees whose many eyestalk branches were still. Behind her, she could sense the presence of Naarl, his shadow cast upon the ground by the bright artificial lights of 3rd Patrolship. Jasuk stood before her, and beside him at attention was Captain Will, in full Space Patrol uniform, his blue eyes bright and pale hair freshly cut.

  Jasuk was reading from a Tri-D screen, a repetition of the statement that Lissa had provided to the defense, reciting it word for word into the minds of all those present. The Friss were solemn, listening to his thought-voice, and Kiij, who stood patiently beyond them all in her position as chairman of the proceedings, seemed calm and untroubled.

  Several accusations were read out to which Will responded in an even voice with his plea. Lissa was glad to hear him plead not guilty to many although he took full responsibility for the loss of his ship, which she thought was perhaps a stretch. Finally, all evidence having been shared with those present, Will was given a chance to speak.

  “Chairman of the court, I have only one request. Yes, it’s true I lost my ship … and my men.” His eyes darkened with grief. “I would not be standing here if I did not feel some culpability. But although the loss of my command is a crime in itself, it is my duty as a Space Patrol captain to push this point: the Dragg’k destroyed my ship, not through any intention or foul play by me or any of my crew, but as an act of callous defiance of all that we stand for. They are on Jeropul now, terrorizing the citizens of this galaxy and acting as worse than space pirates! What better proof can I offer of my innocence than for you to travel to Jeropul and see for yourselves? They cannot know any of the 108th escaped. They will be unprepared to meet your questions, and I’m sure there will be remnants in orbit our sensors can detect.

  “Take us to Jeropul,” he urged Kiij and Jasuk. “Let me prove to you what happened and carry on the purpose of Space Patrol—the purpose my men died for, by bringing justice back to the Great Bazaar.”

  Mr. Piff was nodding before Will finished speaking. “I agree.”

  “All in favor?” Jasuk asked.

  The Friss began to wave eyestalks in the air, creating a pattern that Lissa could not read. But Jasuk surely could for he said decisively, “It is unanimous … Captain,” the master-at-arms then began in a formal tone, “the recommendation of this court is for 3rd Patrolship to journey to Jeropul for a formal inquiry into the loss of 108th and determine the legality of the Dragg’k occupation.”

  “Recommendation accepted,” Captain Naarl agreed.

  Stephanie, through whom Lissa had been observing all this as she slept, now turned away. Kiera came to hug her son, joined quickly by Aewn and Krywith, both wearing looks of satisfaction at the findings of the court.

  Lissa woke up smiling. So, the Kweeps were going to Jeropul. That would give Will the chance he needed to prove himself. She rolled over on her bed in the sterncastle of the Forty-Five, with Lollipop curled up beside her. The Friss sprout was still dreaming, in contact with Stephanie no doubt.

  Stretching, her fingers grazed the inlaid carvings of the wooden bed frame above her head, and her thoughts turned to its previous owner. Had Captain Arol Nask ever given a moment’s thought to the cares or feelings of another? It seemed unlikely.

  The next few days would determine the fate of every human on Earth. Whether she could make Lt. Commander Semo listen to her was now the deciding factor in the future government of the entire planet. Lissa hoped fervently that she could find the words to persuade the alien commander. There really was no other choice.

  Space Station 42

  The approach to the space station that housed the renowned Survey & Research Center was a sight worthy of any pilot, however experienced. The station basked in the light of the Rosette Nebula—also known on Earth as Caldwell 49—a deep-space birthplace of stars and new solar systems. The Rosette put on a spectacular show, throwing off radiation that made the atmosphere dome of the station glow pink and blue.

  To some, the station resembled a giant snow globe floating through deep space. On its dark underside were propulsion systems, various storage units, and communications hardware. Above that stood an enormous dome, and within lay an entire city complete with skyscrapers that reached out toward the Rosette Nebula like fingers reaching out to the stars.

  Octi was at the helm of the Forty-Five. Lissa stood beside his tank, admiring his deft handling as he tacked back and forth across the solar winds coming off the Rosette and smoothly battled the astral waves of space dust and star matter. Ash and Shiro stood on the foredeck and watched as they soared toward the station. Once they were in range of radio communications, Octi hailed them.

  “Diplomatic courier ship Forty-Five requesting docking procedures,” he said.

  “Forty-Five, I see you,” the alien’s voice came through the translator bot. “This is Survey & Research Station 42, what is your business here?”

  “I’m carrying Ms. Melissa Phelps, Ambassador of Planet Earth, Sol system, this galaxy. She has business with a UC representative aboard station.”

  There was silence, and then, “Permission to dock at Airlock 9. Gravitational and atmospheric data streaming to you now.”

  The tightness in Lissa’s shoulders eased as, indeed, data began to scroll across the Tri-D screen next to the helm.

  “Thank you,” Octi acknowledged and signed off.

  The space station was two-thirds the gravity of Earth, but nearly identical atmospherically. There was no need to wear a breathing mask then, Lissa saw with relief, although of course Octi would need his wetsuit.

  Ash and Shiro, acting as crew, scaled ratlines to secure the sunsails as soot-bots stoked the boilers below. Octi used their steam-powered thrusters to maneuver into position next to Airlock 9. To Lissa’s surprise, this side of the station showed an ocean bay, with the water lapping up against the atmosphere dome. As they cycled through the airlock, gravity manipulators stabilized the Forty-Five as briny water rushed in until they were bobbing gently on the water, her hull completely submerged.

  “Looks like they’ve got some Europans aboard!” Octi declared. “I might jump ship for a bit and take a swim around the bay, if that’s alright, Captain.”

  “Once we’ve met Semo, you should definitely go visit, Octi,” Lissa urged. “I bet you could use a good swim!” She looked at him through the wall of his small aquarium, marveling that he had not once complained about the tight quarters. Krywith had helped him rig it next to the helm so he could navigate more com
fortably than in his wetsuit, but being stuck in an oversized fishbowl could not be appealing to him.

  “I most certainly could,” he agreed.

  They floated nearly a kilometer to a dock jutting out from the shore. A lone figure stood at the end to greet them. As they sailed closer, Lissa saw it was a human!

  The teenaged boy was lanky, about 160-cm tall, with an unruly mop of black hair and an open, friendly expression that made Lissa instantly like him.

  Under Octi’s guidance, Ash and Shiro finished hauling in the sails, and, as they kissed the dock, Ash threw the boy a line, which he caught with ease before tying them off with a smooth efficiency.

  As they disembarked, they got a closer look at the young port official: his uniform was a gray one-piece jumpsuit, tailored nicely with an insignia pin at his collar and a nametag on his left breast in some alien script. Octi, who was once again curled about Lissa’s shoulders, told her quietly that it said he was Cadet Jones, a dock messenger.

  The cadet extended an open hand in the universal symbol of peace, and said, “Welcome to Space Station 42, Ambassador. I’m Shane Jones, messenger-on-watch today.”

  His dark eyes were frank and admiring as he grinned at them all, eliciting a grin from Lissa in response.

  “I’m surprised to see a human out this far,” Lissa told him, clasping his hand. “And one who speaks English no less.” His hand was dry and warm in her grasp. As he shook her hand she felt the rasp of calluses on his palm. This was a boy used to hard work, she realized. She caught herself blushing at the touch of his hand in hers.

  “Second generation in space,” Shane told her and released her hand, to her relief.

  She clenched it for a second to rid herself of the sensation of his touch and sternly put her attention on his words.

  “My parents were freed by Space Patrol after an illegal slavering was busted. Dad came aboard as a solar engineer. He’s retired now. My sister and I were born in space.”

  Not Earthlings, then, but descendants. Lissa wondered briefly just how many humans there really were in the galaxy.