“The good news, Titan, is that the guidance systems are nearly ready. I should have them operational within a month.”
Titan sat up straight and gave the engineer his full attention.
“But?”
“But the hull damage is another matter entirely,” Gee confided. He shook his head, hesitant to continue. The news was not positive. “I have looked at the damage from inside, and it’s extensive. It could be even worse when viewed from the outside.”
“How long?” Titan asked simply.
“It would take years for me to repair the damage in good weather. In this cold, and in the dark?” Gee shrugged. “It might never be repaired. I’m sorry.”
“Gee, we’ve been here three years, and you’re just now telling me this?”
“I didn’t realize it myself until a few months ago.” Gee held his hands palm up. He was sorry he had not told Ceeray or Titan the news before now. “Besides, I thought you were satisfied here, helping the Telgorans fight the Minith.”
Titan sighed. He was obviously discouraged.
“I guess I’m tired of hitting my head against a wall that never moves.” He appeared defeated. “It’s time to try something new.”
“And what do you propose, Titan?”
“I cannot propose anything unless we can get this ship off the ground and headed back toward Earth.”
“And if we could?” Gee inquired. “What then?”
“Then I could talk to someone who might have a better idea on how to help the Telgorans.”
“The person you have talked about before? Grant?”
“Yes. Grant Justice,” Titan said.
“Funny name, isn’t it?”
“Yes. And he knows it. Says ‘he has heard it all before,’ whatever that means.”
“Well,” Gee explained, “it sounds like he may have heard all of the comments and jokes that one might ever hear about his funny sounding name.”
“Hmm. You may be right, Gee.” Titan squinted at the engineer and slapped his knees in merriment. “Ha! Never thought of it like that.”
Gee smiled. Titan was a good man. He was strong, considerate, and loyal.
But not the brightest person at times.
There’s no way I will ever tell him that, Gee thought wryly.
“Hey, what if we ask the Telgorans to help with the repairs?” Titan offered. “They do much better in extreme heat or extreme cold than we do.”
It was Gee’s turn to sit up and take notice. Why had he never thought of that?
The Telgorans were masters at shaping agsel. Why couldn’t they do similar work with the metalwork needed on the mothership? Agsel ore might work. If not, they could cannibalize portions of the interior of the ship—corridor walls, if needed—to use as patching material for the rents in the hull.
They would have to nod over the proposal, but if he and Titan presented it to them in the correct way, they might be swayed.
“Ha! I never thought of that,” he admitted, slapping his own knees gleefully. “Titan, you are simply a genius at times!”
“Right, Gee,” Titan looked at the engineer sideways. He pointed his index finger accusingly. “What you mean is that I surprised you with a good idea.”
“See there. Genius, I tell you!”
Chapter 27
The Waa were a dying race.
Rala had to remind herself of that fact regularly, lest she forget.
She gazed out the window of her office to the ship-building fields in the distance—the fields where many of the few hundred remaining Waa toiled. She wondered why she had never thought about the Waa before being posted to the planet. Like most Minith, she had never given the original owners of this planet a second’s pause.
When the Waa came to their planet so many generations ago with offers of trade, the Minith recognized the opportunity in front of them. And it was not trade.
It was interstellar travel.
The Minith had marveled over it, snatched it, made it their own.
The Waa never had a chance.
The thought that the Waa were dying grew into a question of what would happen when the last of their race vanished. Who would build the ships the Minith relied upon? Certainly not the Minith themselves. While her people had numerous strengths, Rala understood they also possessed significant weaknesses. The inability to grasp complex engineering concepts or learn highly technical skills came to mind. Both of these were areas where the Waa excelled. They were a resource that had to be retained.
She had been having more and more of these strange, unwelcome reflections over the past several months. Perhaps they came with age. Perhaps the stress of her position as Minith Trade Minister brought them on. She had been delighted upon receiving her promotion from Governor Truk. It satisfied her to know that she held the role that her former superior had once held. The knowledge that he was now dead satisfied her even more, but the years spent dealing with their partners, and the continued inability to please them, was wearing on her.
Whatever the reason for her thoughts of the Waa, she often wished they would go away. Worrying about her future and the futures of her children was hard enough. Worrying over the future of a lesser race was not productive.
Still, she could not shrug off the question of what they would do when the Waa passed. Like those other, similar notions, this one burrowed into her mind like a hungry worm. She knew it would refuse to be cast out until she found a solution.
She sighed in resignation and filed the questions away for further consideration.
But later, not now.
A tap on the door interrupted her thoughts and she turned away from the mile-high window.
“Enter.”
As expected, General Soo entered.
Rala noticed, as she did every time she saw Soo, that he and Treel shared many of the same physical characteristics, but few of the emotional or intellectual ones.
Unlike many Minith females, she was satisfied with her choice of mate and had no desire to select another. Even though she no longer believed Treel to be alive, she held onto his memory and a tiny sliver of hope. After all, they did not know for sure what had become of the Earth-based mothership or its crew.
“Trade Minister Rala,” the general greeted her simply. Like Treel, he was a man of few words.
“Good day, General Soo,” Rala replied. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.”
“Rala,” Soo grunted. “Why the formality? You are still my brother’s mate, after all. I thought we were past all that.”
Rala smiled and gave a quick bow of her head. She knew Treel’s brother would never accede to being addressed as anything other than his title, whatever he might claim to the contrary.
“As you wish, General Soo,” she replied as she sat in the royal purple chair located in the center of the office. It was the only seat in the room. “Let us get down to business.”
She studied the general as he glanced around the room and noticed there were no other chairs. The unspoken message registered. He would have to stand. Soo’s ears twitched, but he allowed the slight to pass without comment.
Now that Rala worked directly for Governor Truk, she wielded as much influence and power as the general. More, actually. Her work as Trade Minister was the governor’s top priority.
As it should be, she thought.
She understood better than the governor or her brother’s mate how much the Minith needed her skills and expertise. If the Minith were to flourish—no, if the Minith were to survive—it would be a direct result of her efforts. Neither the governor nor Soo fully grasped that.
“Have we learned anything more about the mothership? Or its crew?”
Their interest in this topic was mutual for several reasons. The obvious, their link to Treel, was shared. Outside of that shared interest, Soo was responsible for the soldiers stationed on Telgora, and was tasked with unraveling the mystery of the mothership. Rala had influence over the civilian miners, and dire
ct control over the ore they brought forth. It was a key element of her negotiations with their off-world partners. They freely shared whatever they discovered.
“No.” Soo shook his head. “Nothing has changed. The mothership is there, but there is no sign of the crew.”
“How is that possible? Could it have landed with no crew?”
“The Waa designers tell me it is possible, as you know. But it’s unlikely.”
It was his standard response. She had expected nothing else, but always hoped. He had explained years ago how the ship could have been programmed on Earth to travel to Minith, dump the payload it carried, and then proceed to Telgora.
He just could not explain why any Minith would do such a thing.
“And we have not made any further journeys to Earth.”
It was a statement. They both knew Governor Truk had barred any trips to the planet. Earth was at the extreme limit of their control and was of no immediate importance. The resources it offered could be gathered more easily from other, closer planets. When their situation with trade was not so precarious, that might change.
Rala knew it would not be any time soon. Unless Treel was on Telgora—which seemed less and less likely—he was either dead or sentenced to a life of permanent exile on Earth.
She brushed away those thoughts and moved on to the real reason she had asked General Soo to see her.
“There has been a development with the Zrthns.”
Soo stood straighter and his ears canted forward. She had his attention.
“As you know, we have been getting better at meeting our trade promises,” Rala continued. “Governor Truk was successful in pushing our agreements back for the first year, and I negotiated reduced deliveries for years two through four.
“For the past year, the agsel, borax, and thorite shipments have been moving well, especially now that our supply chain has been reestablished. Those all come from Waa and other near-worlds, which helps.
“But the deliveries of non-mineral shipments have been less than ideal.”
Rala briefly wondered how much detail she needed to give and decided the general would not care for details—most Minith rarely did.
The general proved her correct.
“Get to the point, Rala,” he growled. She felt her ears try to twitch, but stilled them. For someone who demanded the use of his title, he was quick to forget hers.
She ignored the comment and pushed on, anxious to get the information out.
“My spies stationed at the end of our supply chains have reported that the Anoel and the Cha’aka have ceded their rights to the Zrthns.”
“Ceded their rights?” General Soo asked. “What exactly does that mean?”
“What it means, General Soo, is that the Zrthns have either purchased the rights to all our deliveries, or they have conquered the other traders and taken over those rights by force.”
“Interesting,” Soo replied. Rala could see that he was processing the information, wondering what it meant to them.
“What that means, General, is that the Zrthns now own all our trade. We have no other partners.”
“And that is bad?”
Rala angrily swallowed her initial retort. Calling him a fool would do neither of them any good. How could he not see the danger?
“What do you know about the Zrthns, General?” Rala asked. “Specifically, what do you know of the Zrthn military?”
She once again had his full attention. She knew Soo understood that question. He, more than any other Minith, knew that the Zrthn forces were considerably stronger than they were. It was a fact they had decided to keep secret from Governor Truk, who believed Soo was making progress toward his goal of turning the tables on their partners.
“No need to answer, General.” Rala waved his response away. “We both know that the Zrthns could wipe us out. It might not be easy, but they could prevail. Would you agree?”
She received a curt nod and a twitch of ear in return.
It had to shame the general to admit that his forces would not be victorious over those of a lesser race. It shamed her as well.
“General, without other trade partners—partners who have an interest in our well-being—we are at the mercy of the Zrthns,” she explained. “The only thing stopping the Zrthns from capturing our planets and their resources are the Zrthns themselves.”
“I see,” Soo admitted. His ears were flat against his head. He was not pleased at this announcement. “Does Governor Truk know this?”
Rala paused a few moments before answering. She returned the general’s hard stare without twitching an ear or batting an eyelid.
“I felt it wiser to alert you first, General.”
Rala dropped the nugget and waited for the general to catch up. It did not take long.
He smiled.
If the Zrthns attacked, they would need someone to sacrifice in order to save their own hides.
Chapter 28
Once the suggestion was made to Patahbay, it took three months for the Telgorans to finally nod.
But once they nodded, activity began right away. In pure Telgoran fashion, the work to repair the mothership progressed steadily and without letup. Gee was surprised to discover the mothership’s hull was formed from agsel, and he wondered why he had never thought of that possibility.
The natives to the planet were barely affected by the chill that surrounded the mothership. After all, it rested only a little more than ten kilometers from the equator, well within the tolerances of the average Telgoran body.
Even working night and day in shifts, it took the Telgorans more than a year to repair the damage and patch the holes that spotted the outside of the vessel. Gee spent most of that time directing their efforts, using the exterior cameras. The only delays were those that took place while he was sleeping or otherwise indisposed.
It was another two months of rigorous testing, followed by additional repairs, before Gee proclaimed the mothership ready for the journey back to Earth.
When he made the announcement to Ceeray and Titan, they celebrated and started preparing.
* * *
“Gee, it cannot be helped,” Ceeray argued. They were in her dimly lit cave, a hundred meters under the Telgoran surface. “They nodded. And you know what that means.”
“But we do not know if a Telgoran can survive the trip. What will happen when Patahbay is removed from the mass mind? Can he survive that?”
Ceeray was just as frustrated as Gee was. She did not have any more answers than the engineer, but the Telgorans had just nodded that one of their kind would join the humans on the journey to Earth. And she knew that once they nodded, it was done.
“Gee, there’s nothing we can do unless they nod again to reverse the decision,” Titan added. “And that could take months, even if we could convince them to re-nod.”
“Fine.” The engineer threw his hands into the air. “Just fine.”
He pointed his index finger at Ceeray. It would have been considered Peacefully incorrect on Earth, but none of them gave it a second thought.
“But tell the Telgorans that they are responsible for whatever happens.”
“Gee,” Titan stated simply. “They nodded. They always take responsibility for what happens after a nod.”
* * *
Three days later, the three humans and their Telgoran escort closed the outer bay doors for the final time.
When they lifted off, the trio had spent more than five years on Telgora.
Chapter 29
General Soo strode quickly along the covered walkway that led to the governor’s residence. He had been summoned to provide an update, and the update would not be well received.
He, nor his forces, knew where the mothership was.
Regardless of his ignorance, he felt comfortable with his position on the matter. It was only through his planning and foresight that they knew the ship had left Telgora.
When ordered there five years earlier, he had included a sophist
icated monitoring system to the inventory of equipment being sent to the planet. The system tracked all inbound and outbound traffic. Normally considered overkill for a minor planet like Telgora, he had added it to the manifest on a whim.
Needless to say, the Minith stationed on Telgora were surprised when the system’s alarms sounded and the data showed that an unknown ship—a mothership, no less—had lifted off from the planet’s surface.
He had immediately been notified, as had Governor Truk. Soo hoped their decision to keep the mothership’s presence on Telgora a secret did not get out. The cries for vengeance had subsided over the past few years. If the link between the ship and the death of the Minith planet was revealed, it could mean disaster.
Soo was as perplexed as he had ever been. The mothership had become a secondary—no, more like a third-rate—problem years ago. When his forces had moved into Telgora to replace the existing Minith fighters on the planet, they had scoured the mines and facilities for anyone who did not belong. No unauthorized Minith had been found.
So who was operating the mothership?
Soo gnawed on the problem as he approached the governor’s front entrance. What had they missed?
He kicked himself for allowing the mystery of the mothership to fall off his priority screen. The only solace he could take in his oversight was that it was also an oversight of Truk. The governor had decreed early in his rule that reestablishment of trade and defense of the race against its trading partners—specifically, the Zrthns—were the key issues facing the race. Everything else, including finding the swine who destroyed the home planet, had been swept aside by the need to protect what was left of the Empire. At least, that’s what Truk would have the populace believe.
Soo knew the governor had actively suppressed knowledge of the mothership’s part in the destruction of Minith. Besides Soo and Truk, the only other Minith he was certain possessed the information was Rala. She knew because he had told her. As Truk’s aide, it was likely that Ghin also knew, but Soo had no evidence of the knowledge, just a suspicion.
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