by S. H. Jucha
“Doesn’t this speak to the Messinants’ return?” Pickcit asked. “Who else would have the expertise to repair what our people had cunningly stopped?”
“If only we knew how the gate was finally disabled,” Roknick lamented. “The last group to make it back were techs. They brought some of the wounded with them. The dome protected our few remaining soldiers, when our energy weapon was destroyed along with everyone at the deployment site. According to the techs’ statements, the last soldiers at the dome were attempting to provide Pinnick, a console operator, with precious moments of protection. It was said that he had an idea how to disable the console. Our dome supervisor reported that after the techs and wounded returned to Jatouche, they anxiously waited and watched. Finally, one of our console operators announced that the Gasnar gate was deactivated.”
“I find the construction of the domes and gates confounding,” Tiknock, the scientist, said. “Consider gate five. If the Messinants had designed our dome with six separate and distinct consoles, which would individually power each gate, we could have shut down gate five against the Colony’s incursions, hundreds of years ago. Instead, one console powers and controls all our gates.”
“I agree,” Pickcit echoed fervently. “What were the Messinants thinking? This is an ancient race capable of raising an innumerable number of species from forests, deserts, and seas to achieve sentience. And, somehow they envisioned these species intermixing with only peaceful intentions.”
“For such an ancient, powerful, and technologically advanced race, the Messinants strike me as unbelievably naïve or full of hubris, take your pick,” Roknick added in disgust.
“It appears we’re at an impasse as to how we should proceed, now that the Gasnarian gate is operational,” Tacticnok stated. “We don’t know why or how the gate was activated, but I think it’s time we found out. I propose a small team make the trip.”
“To accomplish what?” Master Scientist Tiknock asked with interest.
“First and foremost, we must answer the question of who activated the gate,” Tacticnok stated firmly.
“What if the Messinants are there?” Pickcit asked.
“That’s highly doubtful,” Tiknock replied. “I believe that race played geneticists for millenniums with the creatures of many worlds, raising them into sentience. Then they tired of their activities and moved on, leaving all of us to make our own way. No, I’m definitely a proponent of the idea that a new race has discovered the dome and repaired it.”
“If Tiknock is correct, we have linguists and sophisticated communication devices that can facilitate a conversation with this new species,” Tacticnok offered.
“That’s if these aliens give us an opportunity to communicate,” Roknick groused. “They could be even more cunning and dangerous than the Gasnarians.”
“That seems improbable,” Pickcit replied. “Of our six gates, only two connected us to aggressive species. The ratio is even more palatable when you consider the connections of the other races, which have multiple gates.”
“I would venture to say that the species who repaired the Gasnar gate is technologically superior, which enabled them to deduce the console’s problem and repair it,” Tiknock reasoned.
“In which case, it would be better to visit Gasnar before they learn to operate the console and visit us,” Tacticnok said. “If they are as superior as Master Tiknock imagines, it would serve us well to play the part of gracious neighbors and greet them first. I’ll lead a small team to investigate.”
An uproar ensued, at least as much of an uproar as could be demonstrated in front of His Excellency.
Tacticnok waited for the advisors to air their objections. In the meantime, she noticed a toothy grin on Jaktook’s face, and she smiled at him.
When His Excellency Rictook raised his fingers a few degrees off his lap, the advisors immediately quieted. He turned toward his daughter, who leaned close to hear her father’s whispers.
“His Excellency approves of me acting as the emissary to Gasnar for the Jatouche,” Tacticnok announced. “Thank you, advisors, for your precious time at this late hour.”
The meeting’s attendees rose and waited for Rictook to leave the audience chamber. The advisors were arguing, as they left the royal residence and headed to the subterranean levels, where they could command transports.
Jaktook had let the advisors precede him out of the room. He had no desire to share a car with them to the lower levels. That small delay allowed Jaktook to catch Tacticnok’s signal to remain. As he expected, the advisors never looked back to see if he was in their presence.
“Your Highness,” Jaktook said, dipping his head politely, when the doors of the audience chamber slid closed behind the advisors.
“In public and in company, that is my address, Jaktook. When we’re in private, I’m Tacticnok. I noticed that you didn’t always approve of the opinions offered by the advisors.”
Jaktook couldn’t tell which of Tacticnok’s statements threw him off more, or maybe it was all of them. However, he chose to tackle the most dangerous one. “I meant no disrespect Your … pardon, Tacticnok —”
Tacticnok interrupted the administrator’s apology. “Be at ease, Jaktook. That wasn’t a criticism. I’m interested in hearing your thoughts.”
Tacticnok noticed Jaktook’s hesitation, and she sought a means of convincing him of her sincerity. “Here,” she said indicating a comfortable lounge for two. “Sit with me.”
Jaktook couldn’t have appeared more uncomfortable if he had sat on a bed of spikes, but he did as he was bidden.
“I’m not my father, Jaktook,” Tacticnok began. “Royalty’s formality can be stifling … personally and publicly. Over time, that has to change. The activation of the Gasnarian gate is an opportunity to show the people of Jatouche that members of the royal household can take a hands-on approach to governing this planet. We don’t have to be locked here in this metal tower and protected at all costs.”
Jaktook wasn’t sure of what sort of response was required of him. On this subject, he opted for keeping his mouth shut.
“What are your thoughts, Jaktook?” Tacticnok asked, staring at him intensely.
“I agree with Master Scientist Tiknock. Those who repaired the gate are neither the Messinants nor the Gasnarians, and they might or might not be technically sophisticated.”
“Explain,” Tacticnok requested.
“It was a console operator, essentially a tech, who supposedly disabled the gate,” Jaktook replied, warming to a subject that he had long considered. He was one of the Jatouche who yearned to ascend to a higher level in society. In his spare time, he researched many subjects, modern and historical. “And time was short. What options do you think he had?”
Jaktook couldn’t believe he was treating the royal daughter as if she were a new console operator that he was training. But the expression on Tacticnok’s face said that she wasn’t offended. She wore a frown, indicating she was deep in thought.
“I think I see where you’re leading, Jaktook. With the fight taking place beside him and his comrades dying, the operator would have only moments to accomplish what he intended. And, he wasn’t a scientist or engineer. His approach wouldn’t have been an attempt to render the console inoperable via its programming. It would have been elementary and direct.”
Jaktook smiled and his head dipped approvingly. Tacticnok beamed in reply, but the smile quickly left her face. “How does this answer the question of whether this new species is technologically adept or not?” she asked.
“It doesn’t,” Jaktook said apologetically. “What it does is make a case for the alternative argument.”
“Ah, I understand. If our tech did something simple, which might have had a devastating effect on the nearby soldiers involved in the fight, it would mean the console’s repair would be simple,” Tacticnok reasoned. “But then the Gasnarians could have made the repair too.”
“That’s a distinct possibility, but an improbable one
,” Jaktook replied. “I believe that the Jatouche operator disabled the console, and it collapsed the dome. When the Gasnarians saw their planet disrupted and their dome and gate deactivated, I believe they descended into anarchy and consumed themselves. They would have had no home and no place of refuge. Within a year, they were probably nonexistent as a species.”
Tacticnok shivered at the thought of the ugly ending that the Gasnarians met, but Roknick was correct on this one issue. The Gasnarians had started the fight.
The Jatouche were a much more advanced species when the two races met. The Gasnarians were cordial and earnest in their greetings. Over the years, they worked hard to learn the Jatouche culture and master the technology. They became advanced pilots, engineers, and techs, always focused on the technological positions.
Then, one day, the Gasnarians made their move. They flooded through the gate in droves, weapons eliminating everyone. Once they had control of the dome console, they flooded out onto the shuttle base via the transports. Most Jatouche pilots electronically locked the Gasnarians out of their shuttles’ bridge controls and died for their sacrifices. The Gasnarians loaded those shuttles that they had commandeered and headed for the Jatouche home world, Na-Tikkook.
To our historians, the Gasnarians’ grand plan remains unclear. The invaders were heavily outnumbered. Within a quarter annual, all shuttles were returned to Jatouche control, and the dome retaken. At the time, the predominating thought was that it was simply the Gasnarian nature that was at fault. Their base instincts were compared to dangerous animals, and, despite the genetic manipulations of the Messinants, those aggressive tendencies remained. While they might have pretended to possess polite mannerisms, those merely masked their predilection for domination over others.
Tacticnok shook herself out of her reverie. “I find your ideas refreshing, Jaktook, and I’ve decided you’ll accompany me on our investigation. What do you say?”
Jaktook was severely shaken and squashed any immediate response or visible reaction. He freely admitted he was essentially a passive male, one who was at peace with administrative positions. Flying in the face of that comfortable existence was the offer of a royal daughter to perform a field operation, perhaps a dangerous one. It didn’t seem as if he had an option, and he chose to make the best of it. “It would be my honor, Tacticnok,” he replied.
“I’m pleased that you joined the expedition, Jaktook,” Tacticnok said, rising from her seat, and the administrator hurried to stand.
“I want the tech who discovered the lit panel on board too,” Tacticnok added.
“The tech, Kractik, has been promoted to console operator,” Jaktook replied.
“Well deserved, I’m sure. Make the necessary arrangements with her supervisor,” Tacticnok ordered. “I’ll be in touch, Jaktook,” she added, as she gestured toward the salon’s exit.
-6-
Gasnar
Tacticnok joined her father in his royal sleeping quarters, and the aging monarch dismissed the servants.
“A bold move, daughter,” Rictook commented. “The advisors were unsettled.”
“How is it that not one of these elevated males thought to suggest we investigate the Gasnarian dome?” Tacticnok retorted.
“Perhaps, they presumed my head-strong daughter would do that anyway,” Rictook replied, laying a hand on his daughter’s cheek.
Tacticnok smiled at the gentle rebuke, but the fierceness in her eyes quickly returned. “I spoke with Jaktook at length, father. It’s obvious that he’s studied the events at the Gasnarian dome. His counsel was illuminating.”
“What did you learn?” Rictook asked, stretching out onto a comfortable, elevated pallet.
“Jaktook offered an alternative perspective on the capabilities of those who might have repaired the gate based on what we could have done to shut it down,” Tacticnok said.
“Interesting analytical approach,” Rictook replied. “I didn’t find the advisors’ arguments for superior beings to be convincing.”
“Neither did I,” Tacticnok replied. “Jaktook thought the argument for superior beings was weak. He favored the idea that a simple, but effective, shutdown of the console could easily be reversed by a less technologically advanced species. He answered the question of why the Gasnarians didn’t repair the dome by saying they would have witnessed the disappearance of the dome itself. With few of them left and the planet’s surface becoming uninhabitable, the remaining Gasnarians would have withered like old fruit on the vine.”
“A chilling image, daughter.”
“Sorry, father. Those were my words, not Jaktook’s,” Tacticnok replied. “I’ve requested he accompany me on our passage to Gasnar, and he has agreed.”
“Who else do you intend to recruit for your team?” Rictook asked.
“The tech, Kractik, who discovered the gate’s activation, has been promoted to console operator. I will take her.”
“Who else, daughter?” Rictook asked. His aging, but piercing, eyes stared intently at Tacticnok.
“We will need a competent linguist,” Tacticnok added, thinking through her needs. These were the discussions with her father that she relished. He curbed her enthusiasm and tendency for immediate action with questions that made her think before leaping. She glanced at her father and recognized the expression that said he was still waiting.
“That’s four noncombatants, when you include me, father. For protection, we’ll need four well-trained military personnel to guard each of us.” When Rictook nodded his approval, Tacticnok quickly added, “Soldiers who can take orders from a female.”
* * * *
In less than one lunar cycle, Tacticnok had worked out the details of the expedition to Gasnar. Master Scientist Tiknock had calculated the hour of their trip based on Tacticnok’s request that they arrive at the Gasnarian moon while the dome was bathed in early starlight.
“Are you ready, Jaktook?” Tacticnok asked. Although it was late evening by Na-Tikkook’s clock, she was hoping for an enthusiastic response from the administrator that would dispel some of her own fears.
While Jaktook searched for the right response, Kractik piped up, “I’m ready, Your Highness. I can’t wait to get started.”
The linguist and four guards, who were to accompany Tacticnok, dubiously eyed the young console operator.
“Well said, Kractik,” Tacticnok replied, casting a determined expression at her entourage. “After we arrive at Gasnar, if we encounter resistance, by that I mean weapons fire, we must defend Kractik, while she resets the console for our return. If there is no aggressive action, but an alien presence, no one is to move. Stay calm. Jittak, your men are not to raise their weapons or otherwise intimidate them. Our linguist and I will attempt to placate the aliens and get them speaking.”
“And if there is no alien presence, Your Highness?” Jittak asked. He was the one officer present. Tacticnok had lost that argument with her father, when she had pushed for four common soldiers.
“Then, we’ll have an opportunity for Kractik to collect console information and observe what evidence we can of who might have repaired the gate,” Tacticnok replied.
“And the length of our stay, Your Highness?” Jittak requested.
“As long as I wish,” Tacticnok replied, her eyes boring into the military officer’s until he ducked his head in acknowledgment.
“One more important item before we depart,” Tacticnok added. “After we arrive at Gasnar, you’ll not address me as Your Highness or show deference to me in any manner whatsoever. It’s critical that the aliens not recognize me as an important individual. I’m merely the head of an investigative team. You’ll call me by my name, Tacticnok. Am I understood?”
Confusion was written large on every face, but that of Jaktook’s. He quickly announced, “Completely, Your Highness. We’ll be most casual in address and treatment of you on the other side.”
Jaktook’s quick smile had added to the others’ consternation. It had been ingrained in Jatou
che since infancy on how to address and act in the presence of a royal family member, if ever that moment came about. Now, they were being told to drop those decades of habits and act in a most unusual fashion with a royal daughter, who would be in close proximity to them.
Jittak managed to save some face, when he replied, “My soldiers will do as you request, Your Highness, and they’ll remember to demonstrate the correct obeisance when we return.” He glared at his three soldiers to make his point.
“Let’s go,” Tacticnok announced, and the eight Jatouche stepped onto the gate’s platform. She pointed a finger at the console operator, who dutifully activated the gate’s beam. Energy from the platform speared the dome’s shield, merged with it, and the Jatouche disappeared.
The console operator glanced at Kiprick, the dome supervisor, who stood beside him. A forlorn expression on the young operator’s face indicated that he felt he had done something wrong to send a royal family member into unknown circumstances. In commiseration, Kiprick laid a steady hand on the operator’s shoulder. That his daughter accompanied Tacticnok made him no less troubled.
When the Jatouche appeared at Gasnar, it was all the soldiers could do not to raise their weapons in readiness, but no one wanted to disobey Her Highness’ directive.
“Well, this is disappointing,” Tacticnok said, surveying the empty dome. Her gaze fell on the bodies lying around the dome’s floor.
“What do you make of this, Jaktook?” Tacticnok asked, indicating those who died in battle. “The gate has been repaired, but the dead remain.”
“Recall our earlier conversation, Tacticnok, about the probabilities of the race not being as superior as the advisors proposed,” Jaktook replied.
Concern was exchanged in the expressions shared by the other team members. Evident in the administrator’s words was that he had conversed privately with a royal member, and they or he had contradicted the advisors’ learned opinions. The expedition was turning out to be surprisingly revealing, in more ways than one.