Nua'll

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Nua'll Page 23

by S. H. Jucha

Pia replied.

  Alex closed the comm and hurried to evening meal. The expedition’s leaders, who would sit with Alex at the head table in one of the Freedom’s meal rooms, were occasionally absent, at one time or another. This evening was no exception. Only Renée, Mickey, and Julien were present with Alex. He ordered, and a server hurried to dispense and deliver his meal and thé.

  “You appear dispirited, despite our progress,” Julien commented.

  “Pia’s medical staff has investigated the drone implants,” Alex replied, “and she’s spoken with Faustus. The summary is that the adults can’t be saved.”

  Renée reached out a comforting hand to Alex’s forearm. “How long do the adults have to live?” she asked.

  “Six to eight years,” Alex replied.

  “That creates a conundrum,” Julien said, thinking through future scenarios. “If the expedition moves on, the drones can’t be protected from being harvested, and, if we stay, we aren’t focusing on our primary goal.”

  “I hate to complicate matters, but we’re failing to control another factor,” Mickey interjected. “Mining, processing, and in-system shipping are ongoing. Alex, I know you’ve halted the warships and freighters from leaving the system via Faustus, but there needs to be some kind of endgame.”

  “Suggestions?” Alex asked.

  “We can have the drones stockpile what they produce. For the most part, we can’t use what they’re creating, certainly not the metals. And, I don’t think we want to leave these assets for federacy representatives, who will come to check out why there haven’t been deliveries.”

  “You needn’t worry about the curious,” Julien said. “Faustus sent a request for help. The master race knows who’s here, and the interested parties, the recipients of the shipments from this place, have been warned to stay away.”

  Alex ate, while he thought. His plan to lever an alien race away from the federation had been preempted. Now, he faced the major problem of finding a means of cleaning up this system before the expedition moved on. Waiting eight years for the drones to age out wasn’t an option, but leaving immediately wasn’t an option either. He considered taking the children and the drones with him aboard the Freedom, but that was a totally unsatisfactory solution. He put the greater problem aside and focused on Mickey’s issue.

  “Stockpile the metals near the New Terra and place the gases in an open area of space,” Alex said. “Then put your engineering teams to work. When we leave, you’ll inject nanites into the stockpiles and the colony ship.”

  “Are we dissociating the metals only?” Mickey asked.

  “No, take down as much of the secondary material as possible. Err on the conservative side for lifespan,” Alex ordered.

  “What do you intend to do about the children and the drones?” Renée asked.

  “I don’t have an answer for them, yet,” Alex replied, “but I’m sure Julien will have one soon,”

  Alex winked at Julien, who replied, “Undoubtedly,” while frowning at Alex.

  -23-

  Etoya

  “My warriors have been conducting stealth investigations, during the times when the drones sleep, their night, Dassata,” Homsaff said, during a briefing update with Alex and Myron, “and we have important news for you.”

  “I’m listening,” Alex replied.

  “During the night, we hear the movement of small humans, much as we did when we searched for Faustus,” Homsaff said.

  “Have you tried to apprehend one of them?” Alex asked.

  “We’ve no desire to scare these human pups,” Homsaff replied. “We believe that catching some of them would drive the others deeper into the ship, with stories of alien monsters.”

  “Any idea why they haven’t been reported before now?” Alex asked.

  “With the ongoing bridge and staff security duties, I’ve only had a few warriors to spare to search the ship. It has taken time to cover a ship this big. The warriors hunt in pairs, hiding and listening. Each night, as we’ve ranged deeper into the ship, we’ve begun to hear them more often.”

  “How many do you estimate there are?” asked Alex.

  “It’s hard to tell, Dassata, the warriors have been far apart, while hiding and listening. Recently, I received three reports of movement, estimating three or four pups each.”

  “So, at least ten, which means, it’s possibly double that number,” Alex mused.

  “It would seem so, Dassata.”

  “Did the warriors hear speech?” Myron asked.

  “None, only their movements,” Homsaff replied. She chortled, adding, “They’re as crafty as Dischnya pups on the hunt.”

  “I wonder how they’re surviving,” Alex asked rhetorically.

  “The warriors say they can smell water from below,” Homsaff supplied.

  “That makes sense. The colony ship carries enormous water tanks that would have served fifty-thousand colonists after they made planetfall,” Alex agreed. “One or more of them could be leaking or the children may have found a way into them.”

  “The warriors have discovered supply rooms. The doors have been pried open and the larders raided,” Homsaff continued.

  “What kind of larders?” Myron asked.

  Homsaff snorted. “While Omnians use food stock, the less-advanced races, such as the Dischnya, stored preserved foods. A larder was where food was kept. The children have raided these larders and taken dried, preserved items, and some kind of food called an MRE. Only the label was found, which means we don’t know the contents of the package.”

  Alex laughed. One of Renée’s ancient vids spoke of soldiers’ MREs. “They’re called meals, ready-to-eat,” Alex explained. “I wonder if they’re still good after a thousand years.”

  “They must be, Dassata, none of the larders contain these foods. The pups have cleaned those out.”

  “Any suggestion as to how to recover these wild ones?” Alex asked.

  “It won’t be with our help, Dassata, except to determine where they might hide during the day,” Homsaff replied. “But I can tell you some things about them that will aid you. These pups chose to run away from Faustus’ laboratories. That took courage. They’re resourceful, which means you won’t catch them by throwing a net. They’ll have a deep distrust of adults, who were their minders. This forces them to hide deep in the ship and only venture out at night.”

  “That’s it?” asked Alex, a frown on his face.

  “I wish you good fortune,” Homsaff replied, her jaw opening and her tongue lolling out, indicating her humor.

  * * *

  After Alex’s discussion with Homsaff, he immediately sought out Etoya and Pia. He had to wait, while Pia and her staff took delivery of another child from the embryo lab. When Pia was free, the threesome met in a small New Terra conference room that was clean but incredibly spartan.

  Etoya and Pia entered the room in remarkably upbeat moods. They’d made incredible progress with the children and the drones who occupied the colony ship. For his part, Alex hated to be the one to throw another problem in their laps.

  “Oh, no,” uttered Pia, when she saw Alex’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s nothing wrong,” Alex said, raising his hands in protest. “But you do have a challenge.”

  “We have a challenge?” Etoya repeated and regarded Pia. “Why do I think that means our leader hasn’t an answer to the problem, therefore we inherit it?”

  Pia sent to Etoya.

  “My colleague reminds me that, as an old woman, my mouth moves before my brain engages,” Etoya said, dipping her head.

  Alex waved away the apology. “The Dischnya report that this ship has runaways. I won’t go into the story of how they know this, but, suffice it to say, their reports aren’t to be doubted. At least ten or more children are hiding in the lower decks of this ship.”

  “Only children?” Pia asked.

  Pia’s question caught Alex off gua
rd. He hadn’t considered the implications. If children had been running away from their minders for a long while, why didn’t the Dischnya report the movement of adults?

  “You bring up a good question, Pia. All I can tell you is that the Dischnya said they heard only small children,” Alex replied. “And they’ve been moving at night, raiding storerooms for food.”

  “Why are we here?” Etoya asked.

  “The Dischnya fear if they try to capture the wild children, they’ll frighten them and drive them deeper into hiding,” Alex explained. “We need a means of drawing them out. If we don’t incorporate them into your educational programs soon, they’ll get left behind. Given more time, the Dischnya will pinpoint the children’s hiding place or places.”

  Etoya regarded Alex, while she considered how to rescue the wild ones, as Alex called them. An idea occurred to her, but she kept it to herself. Instead she said, “You’ll need to prepare a new dormitory, Alex.”

  “How large?” Alex asked.

  “Might as well make it big enough to house sixty or seventy,” Etoya replied. “These children will need the extra space, and we’ll need the Dischnya.”

  “Even if they scare the young ones?” Alex asked.

  “That’s what I’m counting on until the children get to know them. We’ll be dealing with escape artists,” Etoya replied, narrowing her eyes.

  Alex nodded at Etoya’s acumen in anticipating who they’d be rescuing.

  “We’ll wait to hear what the Dischnya have to report, concerning their locations,” Etoya finished, which ended the meeting.

  * * *

  Five nights later, the Dischnya identified the children’s hiding place. It was on the lowest deck, where the New Terra’s array of water, reaction mass, and gas tanks were located. Homsaff handed off her locator to Etoya, with the hiding place highlighted on it.

  Etoya turned to Julien. “Is the dormitory ready?”

  “Everything has been prepared, as you requested,” Julien replied.

  “Including the —” Etoya began to say. She abruptly halted, when she caught Alex’s grimace. “Apologies, Julien. Of course, your preparations are thoroughly complete,” Etoya finished. She watched Alex’s expression ease into a frown, and Etoya reminded herself of the gulf between the cultures of the Méridiens and the Omnians.

  Old woman, she thought, even after years with the Omnians, you still think as if you’re living among Méridiens.

  “What now?” Alex asked.

  “Now I bring the children out,” Etoya said. Those around her wore their disbelief on their faces. “I’ve spent my life in service to the Confederation, doing my job the same way every day until I thought differently,” Etoya explained. “This is my opportunity to put my theories to work for these children and whomever else I discover below. I don’t intend to fail them, but I need to do this by myself.”

  Several individuals started to object, but Alex silenced them with an upraised hand. Etoya’s eyes were focused on Alex, and they transmitted her conviction.

  “How long do you need?” Alex asked.

  “It won’t be hours, maybe a day or two,” Etoya replied.

  “Good fortune,” Alex replied.

  Etoya left before Alex could change his mind, a slight smile on her face. She picked up her pack, which waited in the corridor, and headed aft. It was only 14.75 hours, but she had a long way to go, and she wasn’t a young woman anymore.

  Using the locator lent to her by Homsaff, Etoya traveled two-thirds of the ship’s length to the rear, searching for the stairs that the queen had identified, which would lead her below.

  Where’s a lift when you need one? Etoya asked herself, as she descended level after level.

  When Etoya reached the last deck, she stopped, dug through her pack, and extracted a small light, powered by crystal. She clipped it on a shoulder strap, entered a hatch, and stepped onto a grated, metal walkway. Her light illuminated 8 meters in front of her, but there was little to see. A walkway stretched out in front and behind her, fading away, when her light couldn’t penetrate the darkness. Steps away from where she stood, a utilitarian stairway headed down. The bulkhead was to her right, and to her left, beyond the handrail, was nothing, a vast emptiness.

  Etoya had been warned by Homsaff that the bowels of the colony ship were cavernous, but the concept hadn’t sunk in until now. She wanted to turn the light off and allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then, she shook her head at the foolish thought. There wasn’t any light down here. The aliens, who set up the drone processes, had delivered power only to the areas necessary to facilitate their needs.

  -24-

  Wild Ones

  Deep in the dark cavern, Ude was woken by the soft whirring of his ancient chronometer, a gift from the previous leader. He struggled awake and made the rounds, stirring the members of the band, one at a time. This was always a chore. The children were hungry and tired. They wanted to sleep, not be woken to forage for food.

  Tonight, like any night, Ude performed the rounds a few times, shaking them awake, until they sat up and crawled out of their holes.

  Each child had a tiny hiding place, under piping or in tight spaces between tanks. Material had been pilfered over the years and formed into insulated sleeping quarters.

  Ude retrieved the band’s water bucket, pouring some into each child’s cup. This was another routine taught him by the previous leader. After the band was hydrated, they crept to a drain and removed the cover to relieve themselves.

  When everyone was ready, Ude led them through the maze of large tanks toward the stairs, which would take them to the upper decks. The climb out of the cavern was always slow, and Ude had to cajole the children, while they struggled. Like him, their limbs were thin and wasted.

  Ude nearly missed it. He was tired, and this part of the exit for the hunt was routine. He rounded the final row of tanks and caught the glow above. He hissed softly to the others, and they froze in place. The light didn’t move. It highlighted a minder, who sat on the stairs. Slowly Ude backed up and whispered to the group. They stealthily eased behind the tanks and returned to their hiding places. It would be a long, hungry night.

  Ude slept for a short while before hunger drove him awake. He dug into his emergency rations and snuck from one hideout to another, doling out small pieces of food, which the children greedily accepted. It wasn’t much, but it would keep them alive. Afterwards, he crept back to where he spotted the minder. The light was still there. The minder hadn’t moved.

  Emboldened by the thought that the minder was dead, Ude took his time circling through the tanks to come out under the walkway and behind the minder. He waited, staring up through the grated walkway. Eventually, the minder moved, taking out a container to sip from and digging into a large bag. Ude could smell the aroma of food, and his stomach betrayed him, growling and objecting to its emptiness.

  Ude was sure that he’d given himself away, but the minder sat still. He was confused by its lack of action. However, there was nothing he could do, and so, he worked his way to his hole, crawled in, and tried to sleep. But it was slow in coming. He could still smell the food.

  Hours later, Ude woke and dragged his body out of his hiding place. He grabbed his cup and dipped it in the water bucket. Sipping the liquid brought him no relief from his hunger, and it hadn’t for a long time.

  Sometime past, Ude had tired of his lessons and the constant pressure from the minders. When the opportunity presented itself, he slipped out the doorway and ran. He was lost and starving when the previous leader found him. He had no idea how long he had been part of the band. There was no sense of the days passing in the darkness.

  Ude’s ancient chronometer might have taught him a great deal about time, if he knew how to read it. Unfortunately, the only thing Ude knew about his timepiece was that he was to listen for the first tone that told him it was time to forage, and, when the chronometer vibrated, it was time to hide.

  I need to look again, Ude thought
. Using the previous approach, he exited the row of tanks, tiptoed to the far wall, and eased along it. Up above him, the minder sat in the same place. Maybe it’s dying, he thought. But, the longer he watched, the more convinced he was that the minder was healthy. It moved as it had before, sipping from the container and taking small bites of food.

  Ude heard a sound behind him, and he pressed his body close to the wall.

  “Who?” Ude heard Nata whisper. Her face was beside his, and, in the minder’s dim light, he could see her straining to see above them.

  Whispering in Nata’s ear, Ude said, “Back,” and then he led her along the wall, through the rows of tanks, to his hideout. Inside, Nata whispered, “Who is that?”

  “A minder,” Ude said. “That’s who I saw, when I waved everyone back.”

  “What’s it doing there?” Nata asked.

  “Don’t know. It does nothing but sit, drink, and eat,” Ude explained.

  “Smelled food,” Nata agreed, saliva spilling from a corner of her mouth.

  Ude considered Nata’s reaction. It was the same as his. If the young ones smelled the food, there might be no way to hold them back. Once the band was seen, there would be more minders searching the tanks for them. He stared at Nata, who was lost in thought. Nata was the next oldest, after him. Someday, she would take his place. That was the way it was. No one lasted too long among the tanks.

  “Sleep,” Ude ordered, but Nata shook her head.

  “Food,” Nata said simply.

  Ude understood. The nearby storerooms had been raided by the earlier leaders long before he arrived below. Now, the band was forced to roam far and wide to locate other opportunities, and they were having less and less success. In some cases, the doors were solid and locked, which meant they’d make too much noise breaking into the space.

  Ude heard scratching outside his hideout, a signal the young ones wanted to talk. He crawled over Nata’s legs to peek outside. From the snuffling and furtive movements, he estimated most of them were present.

 

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