by J. Blanes
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, the Pakma,” Preto’or said as if he’d remembered something. “Admiral?”
“Yes?”
“You’re dismissed.”
“Always at your service, Preto’or.” The admiral said his name as a way of good-bye and walked to the door, happy to get out of there.
“Admiral, come back now,” Preto’or called him back suddenly.
“Yes?”
“You didn’t understand me when I said you’re dismissed,” Preto’or told him when he approached. “Let me explain in more detail; there’s something you should understand.” The room was now in complete silence. Nobody knew what Preto’or pretended to do. It was one thing to taunt a warrior, but Pok was an admiral worthy of respect. Even Kotar didn’t find it funny.
“Several solar cycles ago I ordered all my generals and admirals to inform me about every particular event that occurred in the portal net…”
“I know, but—” the admiral interrupted Preto’or, trying to justify himself. That only worsened the situation for him, as he awoke Preto’or’s ire.
“Do you dare to interrupt me!” Preto’or snapped, shouting menacingly at him.
“I…I…” The Admiral wanted to apologize, but it was forbidden, even to the leader. “No, of course not,” he said instead as firmly as he could.
“Every general and admiral had complied with my order, except you!” Preto’or was now shouting louder, visibly angry with the admiral. “And because of you, the event I was expecting was ignored and a valuable time lost!” Preto’or was now just in front the admiral, almost touching him. “You are a disgrace to the officer program, you are a disgrace to the Tukma, and you do not deserve to live. Get this traitor out of my sight and kill him!” With these words he pushed the ex-admiral so hard that he sent him flying backward, almost to the end of the main chamber.
“No, no, you misunderstood! I did it for you!” the ex-admiral screamed, but no one could hear him now, as he had no control of his armor anymore. The guards had already remotely locked it as a cautionary first step, just in case he decided to retaliate. Then, two of them grabbed him and carried him outside, where they stripped him of the armor, breaking the seal and spilling the serum contents to the ground. His naked, fragile Tukma body got exposed to the environment for the first time in tens of thousands of years, burning him, squeezing him, suffocating him, until a merciful death finally came.
Inside the chamber, Preto’or directed his words to Kotar. “You did a good service to the Tukma,” he praised him calmly. “Now, where do you think those portals were directed?”
Kotar was still in shock. Not only had an admiral been killed in the most terrifying way for a Tukma, but Preto’or seemed not to care at all about it. Kotar’s admiration for his leader grew exponentially.
“The first was a small interstellar portal, directed probably at the second system, where the second event was detected. This second system is in an uninhabited system, very strange for the Pakma to roam over there,” Kotar informed him. “The second portal was programmed to transport to ST-404, another rather uninteresting system.”
Preto’or said nothing. He stood still, mulling it over for a while, until the two guards who had taken away the ex-admiral came back. “Good, you’re back. I have to make an announcement. Kotar is the new admiral of the border fleet,” he told them.
This was unprecedented in Tukma history. Admiral was a prestigious position, only within reach of the best Tukma officers. The promotion system ensured that only an extremely decorated Tukma officer could achieve such an important position. Kotar was neither decorated nor an officer. It was a very risky move on Preto’or’s part, a breach from Kaar’s beloved merit system, and it could bring unpleasant consequences. But the Tukma also loved boldness, and Preto’or was not known for making rash decisions without careful thought, so nobody paid attention to it; they simply acknowledged his announcement.
In a matter of minutes, Kotar had climbed the rank ladder to an extraordinary level. A normal Tukma would need several thousand solar cycles to achieve the same feat, if it was even possible. Kotar could not have been more pleased. Rank was power, and power was everything for a Tukma.
“Congratulations, I know you won’t disappoint me, Admiral,” Preto’or congratulated him, although he managed to make it sound like a threat.
“You can count on me,” the new admiral replied.
“And I have your first assignment. I want you to go to that star system to find and destroy whatever ship crossed those portals before it reaches the Pakma,” Preto’or ordered him.
“I’ll do it,” Admiral Kotar answered. “I want to inform you that those star systems lie outside our jurisdiction. I’m not making any excuses; I just feel that you should know about it. The coalition will notice our presence.”
“I don’t care. Do whatever you have to do, but don’t come back unless that ship is destroyed.”
“Aye, Preto’or.”
Admiral Kotar walked out of the room, proud of himself and his leader. He would do as ordered without hesitation. If the coalition interfered, he would harshly deal with them.
He arrived at the border fleet’s mother ship, where the news of his assignment had already spread. His unexpected appointment had gained him instant praise and admiration from the other Tukma. If Preto’or had given him this responsibility, it could only mean that he deserved it, and achieving what no other Tukma could accomplish before added extra bonus to his already prestigious career.
His first actions were to prepare the fleet for their mission. He gathered all his ships’ captains and informed them of Preto’or’s orders. A portal would be immediately programmed to jump the fleet to ST-404 and all the ships ready in three planet cycles. Everything must be carried out with the utmost urgency, and anyone found dawdling would be put to death. No excuses were allowed, and a captain with a ship not ready for departure at the designated time would be stripped of rank and sent to the mines.
The new admiral would not disappoint Preto’or. Their target had no chance of escaping a Tukma fleet led by him; it would be completely destroyed.
And its occupants, whoever they were, would share the same fate.
SIXTEEN
The Mother Ship
No more overwhelming stench punching their noses, not even the vomiting because of the anesthesia—this time the portal crossing had been a relaxed and smooth ride thanks to their helmets. No one had to remind them to put them on; even so, Blip had been thoughtful enough to warn them about the impending portal crossing with plenty of time to prepare without having to hurry. And he let them sleep also.
The ship was now fast approaching the planet where their mysterious future guest lived. Blip had not given any more information about him, and they worried about their mandatory mission to bring him on board. The reason behind this Tolok request puzzled them, and they had been discussing it since late last night without reaching an agreement about a plausible reason.
In the morning, Blip had gathered them in the kitchen, waiting for the arrival at the planet, which he expected to happen in the next few minutes. They were sitting around the table, except for Keira, who was jogging in her morning exercise routine.
“But how do the builders come back after a day’s work?” Albert asked Blip. He was intrigued by the fact that a portal was one-way only.
“They don’t,” Blip answered. “Once a group of ships is sent to a star system to build a portal, they must finish it to be able to come back.”
“What if something goes wrong? What if the portal they build doesn’t work?”
“The fact that they are in a system without a portal doesn’t mean they can’t communicate. They just ask for help. Anyway, this may happen to an amateur civilization, but not to the Tolok; they are too experienced in building portals for such a careless situation to happen.”
“I
think you’re losing your touch, Albert,” Dylan said with a smirk. “A few days ago you would’ve thought of that yourself. You should check your head. All those blows to it seem to have affected you somehow.”
“Ha-ha, very funny,” Albert said mockingly. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”
“Now I have an important question for Blip,” Dylan suddenly said as he leaned forward. “Why did the Tolok build this ship so dull and…round?”
“Dull? Round?” Blip was trying to understand the enigmatic meaning behind Dylan’s words.
“Yeah, dull, not cool, a ball-like spaceship. Don’t they have any sense of coolness?” Dylan explained.
“Coolness,” Blip mumbled. “I don’t know what you mean, but if your question is why this ship is spherical then the answer is simple. It’s because the Tolok emulate the best natural spaceships that exist in the universe.”
Dylan was puzzled. “Natural spaceships, what a nonsense!” he said finally. “Your robotic brain has some damaged gears. The best natural spaceships, what on Earth could they possibly be?”
“Planets,” Blip replied calmly.
“Yeah, right, planets,” Dylan scoffed.
“I’m not joking,” Blip complained. “Planets are perfect spaceships. They wander through space at tremendous speeds, and nobody on them ever notices. Haven’t you realized that your sun drags your planet along, through the galaxy, at more than four hundred thousand miles per hour? Probably not, because Earth is a perfect spaceship for Humans. The Tolok just borrowed the idea and enhanced it.”
Dylan was speechless, but looking at Albert’s smile, he knew that Blip was telling the truth. Spaceships like planets—those Tolok were practical people, and crazy. “And why not the small ship?” he wondered suddenly.
“Small ships cannot be spherical because of limitations on the amount of technology they can carry. They are used mainly to travel back and forth from bigger ships to planets. A spherical shape wouldn’t be so practical on those cases.”
“Why don’t you teleport yourself instead?” Dylan had been a fan of teleportation since he had first seen it in a Star Trek movie. He wondered whether the Tolok had already mastered it.
“We could, but teleportation requires too much effort, and it’s not energy efficient,” Blip replied. “Small ships are better suited for the task. The fact that you know how to do one thing doesn’t mean you have to use it for everything. The perfect job requires its perfect tool.”
“Is this the reason why you didn’t use teleportation with us back on Earth?” This was something that had bothered Albert since the abduction.
“No. We can’t use teleportation on Humans. Teleportation requires precise calibration and location, and lots of testing with many different individuals before it can be used on a species. The Tolok didn’t have time for that.”
At this time, Keira arrived after having taken a shower and was ready to join the conversation. She was a little sleepy from the night before and yearned for a good cup of coffee. “Hi, guys!” she greeted them and sat next to them. “I’d kill for a cup of coffee right now, wouldn’t you?”
“Are you kidding? I miss it as if it were family,” Dylan replied. He recalled the coffees he’d ordered at Mike’s Place. “A latte—no, a cappuccino, I’d do anything for a cappuccino right now.” He closed his eyes and sniffed, as he could sense the aroma.
“Did you ask the ship?” Blip interrupted. “I’m pretty sure the ship is perfectly able to serve a coffee.”
“What?” the three friends exclaimed at once as they jumped up from their seats, startling Blip.
“What’s wrong with you?” Keira complained. “Aren’t you supposed to be our guide? How can you possibly hide something like this from us?”
Blip had learned to respect these three Humans because of their above-average intelligence—for Humans—and their peaceful attitudes, but he was starting to have second thoughts about the above-average-intelligence part. Did they really expect him to explain everything?
He scoffed at them. “Milk, coffee, juices, even a soda, most beverages are easy to synthesize, unlike solid food,” he explained. “It’s not my fault that you didn’t ask before. You know, it’s easy, like this: ‘Ship, prepare a cappuccino for Keira. Wait, dismiss!’” He paused and looked at Keira. “What kind of sugar?”
“Huh? Oh, sugar…brown, brown sugar,” Keira replied.
“One or two?”
“One.”
“Ship, a cappuccino with one measure of brown sugar,” he ordered.
In less than a minute, the coffee aroma flooded the kitchen, stroking their noses and sending all of them into an almost comatose, ecstatic state. They indulged in this unexpected pleasure for minutes, especially Dylan, who not only ordered three coffees for himself but also a hot chocolate and an orange juice.
Blip let them enjoy this moment as much as possible, but it was time to descend to the planet. He told them to follow him to the small ship, where he gathered them in the secure room.
“I just received some unexpected and puzzling news,” he told them. “This planet, in fact this whole star system, is not inhabited by any advanced civilizations but is full of primitive, fire-and-stone, warlike tribes and many dangerous animals.”
Blip was right; this was unexpected news. Dylan had imagined that they would have to sneakily infiltrate a city or a village full of aliens and contact their target before bringing him in. Albert and Keira shared the idea that the ship would deceive and lure him out to some place where they could grab him safely, as the ship had done with them back on Earth.
“So, are you saying that we’re going to bring back a primitive creature or a dangerous animal?” Dylan asked perplexed.
“The ship told me that our guest doesn’t belong to this planet and lives alone in a remote, isolated region. The small ship will transport us near his place. It will be easy to find him.”
“How did he get here?” Keira asked.
Blip’s information was, once again, sparse and vague. “I don’t know; the ship didn’t tell me, but he wasn’t born here.”
With these words, Blip left the room and told them to prepare for takeoff and a long flight. The ship was farther from the planet than the last time to avoid being seen with the naked eye, and this trip would last longer than the previous one.
Again, thanks to Blip’s skillful piloting, it was an uneventful flight, and they arrived on the planet a few hours later. The small ship landed on rocky terrain with some sheer cliffs surrounding the area, hiding it and preventing unnecessary attention, not that it needed much with its invisibility active.
They gathered once again in the secure room. “It’s strange,” Blip mumbled when he entered the room.
“What’s strange?” Keira asked, fearing that another unexpected problem would hinder their mission.
“This planet’s atmosphere is almost identical to Earth’s, and so is its gravity,” Blip commented. “Temperature is a little on the hot side, but perfectly bearable for Humans.”
“And why is that strange?” Dylan scoffed.
“Because finding two identical planets is rare, very rare,” Blip informed him. “I mean, almost any planet has several siblings out somewhere, but finding them among the billions of planets in this galaxy is extraordinarily difficult. And we just found one on our second stop. It’s strange. This planet’s atmosphere and temperature are so similar to Earth’s that you can venture outside without your helmets.”
“Seriously?” Albert couldn’t believe his luck. Not only he would have another chance to explore an alien planet, but this time he would also be able to feel it, and in a good way, not like his last painful experience. He still limped on that leg, but oddly enough, his burns had almost miraculously healed.
“Yes, seriously,” Blip confirmed, “but you’ll need another kind of protection instead. Follow me.”
Blip led them to the back of the ship and opened a hidden compartment in the back wall, one previously unknown to them. Inside the compartment, six identical objects, neatly organized one next to the other, left them shocked.
“What are you waiting for? Pick one up,” Blip insisted when he saw their hesitation.
“But…but…these are guns,” Keira managed to say. “You said that the Tolok don’t kill.”
“I never said they don’t use weapons, and I said they don’t kill unless it’s strictly necessary for survival reasons,” Blip corrected her. “And these are stun guns; they won’t kill anybody. They were designed and made specifically for you, so you could defend yourselves in cases like these.”
“Are they really necessary?” Keira insisted. She had never been a friend of guns.
“There are some very dangerous animals out there, and there’s also the possibility of an unpleasant encounter with an inhabitant. You’ll want to protect yourselves in those cases. If you shoot them with these, you won’t kill them or even harm them. They’ll just fall unconscious for a while. Better safe than sorry.”
Dylan took the first gun. It was shaped roughly like any normal pistol, with a handle, a trigger, and a barrel, but the similarities ended there. It was lighter than other guns he had handled before, even though it was clearly made from a silver-plated metal that, for once, Dylan thought was very cool. When he grabbed it, the handle instantly changed its shape to adapt itself to the inside of this hand, a nice touch by the Tolok. The barrel was not round but curved at the top and flat at the bottom, like a road tunnel, and there was no muzzle at its end, as the barrel top gradually narrowed until it sealed itself completely. The barrel reminded Dylan of the front pilot cabin of a high-speed Japanese train that he had seen once in a television documentary. Another feature was a tail that emerged in place of the back hammer and slowly curled and thinned itself toward the front, on top of the barrel, giving the pistol its perfect Tolok scorpion tail.