“She’s correct,” Coren added.
“I call them the Mechanics,” Sofia said. “While my primary mission focused on the Forinths, when the Mechanics arrived, I got a chance to immerse myself in the study of two completely different species and cultures.”
“Happy to be a test subject,” Coren said with a hint of what sounded to Tag like sarcasm.
“You know you like the attention, Coren,” Sofia said, cracking a mischievous smile. She faced Tag again, and he saw a fiery passion light up as she spoke. This was likely the first time she’d spoken to another human about any of her findings or experiences over the past years. “I nicknamed them the Mechanics because they truly are evolved to work with their hands. More so than us humans. We’ve got thumbs, but they have triple-jointed limbs, and their fingers are so flexible and strangely jointed that each of the six can function like pseudothumbs. You should see their natural adeptness with all things technological.”
“I appreciate the flattery,” Coren said, although Tag could tell he didn’t appreciate it at all. “But technology is crucial to our survival.” He sighed. “Our bodies aren’t so strong, and, I regret to say, evolution didn’t empower us with the endurance and strength you humans and these Forinths share.”
Tag had never felt human beings were particularly strong compared to other lifeforms on Earth and some of the alien species they’d encountered. But he wasn’t about to argue the point. Coren’s limbs were extremely thin, as was his torso.
“Technology was our only mechanism of survival,” Coren continued. “But it wasn’t enough. My ship was on duty, investigating Eta-Five.”
“Why did you need an entire cruiser-sized vessel for a research expedition?” Tag asked, not buying the story.
“As I said, technology is crucial to us. Not just on our planet but beyond. Space has not been friendly, and neither have its inhabitants. Most we have dealt with through brute force. Our power now comes from lessons learned over a millennium of space travel and exploration. Our people prefer to be careful. That’s why our research vessels are well armed, though our troops aren’t quite as well outfitted as our warships. You saw how our ground troops don’t have energy shields like the marines that belong to our warfaring vessels do,” Coren said.
“May I?” Sofia asked, looking at Coren. He nodded and looked away. “It was hard to get this out of Coren, and no other Mechanic would speak to me about it. But their population is in decline. Their resources in nearby solar systems were depleted by war, and the truth is, they can’t lose expeditionary vessels and science vessels. They can’t take the risks we can.” A glimmer of pity crossed her face. “From my estimates, their culture and species are endangered.”
“And that was before what we call the Mutiny Incident.” Coren nodded somberly. “We were several light-years away from Meck’ara.” He paused, staring at some unseen spot in the distance. An expression of grief filled his face. His thin lips twitched. His good golden eye shimmered. “So we never knew what happened until we were on the last leg of our return to the planet.”
“Was this the Incident?” Tag asked.
“Yes.”
Tag could sense the sincerity in Coren’s words. Maybe the Mechanic was good at manipulating human emotions, but Tag wanted to believe him. He forced himself to remain skeptical. This all might be a trap. But then again, what did they want with him? He’d be dead if they really wanted him to be.
“Once we arrived in normal space, we were inundated with distress calls. Our normal docking station orbiting Meck’ara was wrecked. Spewing atmosphere. Chunks of debris. Even bodies frozen in vacuum.”
A shudder crawled through Tag at the grisly imagery. “And these distress calls? They were coming from the station?”
“Not just the station but also the ships, broken and shattered, floating lifeless next to the station. The distress calls were on automated repeat.”
“The rest of your species was eradicated then.”
“No,” Coren replied, standing. He started pacing the small room. “The distress calls mentioned exactly who the attackers were.”
“Who?”
Coren paused. “Us.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“I don’t understand,” Tag said. “Was there a civil war?”
“There wasn’t when we left my planet,” Coren said. “Instead, according to the distress signals we received, almost a quarter of our people turned hostile. We saw no signs of vessels from other species, destroyed or otherwise.”
“Turned hostile?”
“It was some act of rebellion. Only there was no clear reason why. There was internal conflict within ships, between ships, on the planet.” Coren’s thin nostrils flared. “On our approach to Meck’ara, we saw one heavy cruiser drifting, mostly undamaged, from the orbital station. When we saw it wasn’t sending out any distress signals, we hailed it.
“They returned a single message asking, ‘Where does your loyalty lie?’ My captain said, ‘to the M’jar Emtoradajo,’ of course. And with that, they opened fire on us. Our ship couldn’t withstand the onslaught. The bridge was destroyed almost immediately. Pulsefire riddled our sidewalls before we could even get our energy shields up. Due to that single attack, as the chief engineering officer, I became Captain of the MES Stalwart, a duty I neither wanted nor deserved.” Coren tucked his chin against his chest. “At that moment, I knew we wouldn’t survive long against them. I directed the Stalwart to retreat to the safest place I knew. Here.”
Sofia nodded. “Eta-Five’s atmosphere is both our boon and bane. The Mechanics were interested in the planet for the same reason the SRE was—it’s not just about the Forinths. There’s something in the atmosphere—the strange gravitational and energy fields—that masks all communications and signals. It muddles every sensor array the Mechanics and humans have developed.”
“Yes,” Coren said, “and since I hadn’t reported that information back to Meck’ara yet, I had hoped to use those phenomena to my advantage.”
“So far, we haven’t caught any Mechanic ship probing the planet,” Sofia added. “And thankfully, we’re shielded underground from any curious scout ships that might venture to the planet’s surface.”
Tag mulled over the reluctant captain’s story. “I still don’t understand why your people turned against each other or why they attacked me.”
“I regret to say that even though we’ve tried to figure that out”—Coren’s expression appeared vaguely human, almost remorseful—“we still aren’t sure.”
“Coren granted me access to the data they had left,” Sofia said. “We scoured the recorded distress signals and comms together.”
“The best explanation we came up with was also one of the strangest,” Coren added.
Sofia booted her holocomputer. “This is one of the vid-comm messages we recovered.”
An almond-shaped head floated on the holoscreen with a face much like Coren’s. Only when this one spoke, the voice sounded distinctly feminine through Tag’s translation device. “Captain N’Dreen of the MES Gallant. Almost a third of our crew has mutinied. My XO was killed when he met with the mutineers. They have no demands and no interest in bargaining. I am locked in the bridge with only four of the original twelve bridge crew. Five officers attempted to overtake my watch, but we prevailed. I cannot be certain what happened to incite such violence. Medical Officer B’jir suspects some kind of virus. But we have been unable to verify these assumptions.”
Sofia gestured over the holocomputer. No vid-comm images appeared. Instead, a haunting voice shouted over the tinny sounds of explosions and gunfire. “They’re like drones. They don’t respond like normal people. Something’s wrong with them!”
Sofia paused the recording. “That message is why we call the mutinous Mechanics Drone-Mechs.”
Another recording played. In this one, the voice came out like a whisper. “The best way I can describe these people is that they’re acting like robots. It doesn’t make sense. I’ve se
en them demand to know, and I quote, ‘Wherein does your loyalty lie?’ They blew several officers away in pulsefire when the officers didn’t give them an answer they liked. I ran, and I’m hiding here in life support on the MES Lancer. If you should see our ship approach, proceed with caution!”
Sofia clicked off the computer. “There are more recordings like that. Similar occurrences on other ships and orbital stations, along with broadcasts from Meck’ara.”
“Bizarre,” Tag said. He searched his mind for reasons for such abhorrent behavior. The SRE had overtaken Earth by sowing discord within the UN and pitting individual member states against each other. Could this be similar? Had something or someone manipulated the Mechanics? “Have your people been in contact with any new species?”
“No,” Coren said. “None that I’m aware of.”
“Of course, you can’t account for the time between your trip to and from Eta-Five,” Sofia said.
“True,” Coren said. “There would’ve been a limited time during our expedition here and through hyperspace when any communications, emergency or otherwise, regarding some sort of invasion or interaction would’ve been lost to us.”
“And at the same time,” Sofia said, “not to play devil’s advocate, but we didn’t exactly uncover anything about a new alien species in any of the emergency distress comms. You think that’s something most people might mention if it was a cause for concern.”
“You’d think,” Tag said, eying Coren suspiciously. No explanation offered so far proved Coren was innocent in all these matters. It seemed lucky—too lucky—that the Mechanic had escaped such a violent uprising and return to this planet to meet him here.
Coren seemed to sense his skepticism and let out a long exhalation. It came out almost like a whistle through his flat nostrils. “I’m afraid the cutter you ran into was not from the Mechanics you see on this planet. We’re the victims, the survivors. As far as I know, we’re the only ones left who haven’t been converted or turned into drones or infected or whatever has happened to the rest of my people.” He leaned forward, holding his hands in a pleading gesture. “Despite what you might think, the Mechanics are not a warfaring people. We protect our own. We defend ourselves when threatened. But the sneak attack on your vessel is unlike us. It is a dishonorable tactic. It is absolutely disgraceful to attack a research vessel, military or not, and massacre its crew without so much as a warning.”
“It’s true,” Sofia said. “Everything I’ve seen in their ship’s data library seems to support that notion. Granted, I haven’t had time to go through a fraction of all the information stored there, but by every indication, they’re an honorable, proud race. Deceit doesn’t play such a large role in their history as it does ours, which makes the whole rebellion situation doubly strange.”
“I don’t mean any offense to you or your profession,” Tag started, “but one anthropologist’s claim regarding a species she’s only known about for—” He looked to her for an answer.
“Roughly six months,” she offered.
“Roughly six months. That’s not enough for me to be convinced of anything. Especially after what I saw.”
“I understand,” Coren said. “You have every right to be dubious, and I wouldn’t respect you if you weren’t. I sincerely apologize for our assault on your air car. Our guards have been jumpy ever since we crash-landed here.”
Silence hung in the air as Tag studied Coren and Sofia. He tried to run through scenarios in his mind, figuring out what game these two—or maybe just Coren—were playing at. Why would they leave him alive? Why would Coren concoct this elaborate scheme?
Coren sat on the stool again. “I’ve failed my people. I was never meant to captain that ship. And without a working ship, it’s hopeless. We’ll die out here, with no chance to reclaim our planet or our honor.”
“We might have a working ship now.” Sofia’s cot creaked as she leaned forward. A glint shone in her eyes. “Tag, you didn’t just transport out of nowhere. Tell us about the Argo.”
The ship, Tag thought. Of course, that’s what they want. Coren needed that ship to get his people off the planet. Undoubtedly the relentless snow, ice, and wind had covered the Argo by now. It would take months, if not years or decades, for the Mechanics to dig through the snow and find it. Tag was the only living being who knew where the ship was buried.
Coren wanted the ship. That was the only reason Tag was still alive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“I can’t give you the Argo,” Tag said. “Nothing you do to me will convince me otherwise.”
Coren cocked his head, and his velvet fur creased across his forehead in shallow furrows. “I don’t mean to abscond with your ship. You must believe me.”
“Believe you? I’m not falling for any of this treachery.” Tag stood. “Sofia, I don’t know what he’s said to you with that snake tongue, but I’ve seen the Mechanics’ true colors. They gassed my crewmates. They slaughtered them in the passages. They tried to drive the ship into Eta. They aren’t good natured or honorable. Far from it.”
Heat coursed across Tag’s cheeks. He wasn’t sure when he had clenched his fists, but his knuckles were white. The Argo didn’t hold just the bodies of his crewmates but also the coordinates of the Montenegro and the rest of human civilization’s roots in the stars. Giving the Mechanics the Argo meant giving them the keys to humanity’s destruction. With his teeth gritted and eyes narrowed, he stared into Coren’s good eye. “I don’t know what kind of ruse you’re trying to pull here. But kill me if that’s what you want. Torture me. I will not let you finish the job your people started. With my last dying breath, I’ll defend the Argo.”
“Tag!” Sofia said, getting up from her roost. She took a step between Tag and Coren, but the Mechanic gestured her away.
“How arrogant, human,” Coren said, his voice dripping in measured calmness. “Your skepticism has bloomed into paranoia. I’ve told you only the truth, but I can see there’s nothing more I can say or do to prove that to you. It’s a shame. Truly. I’d offer my help to get you off Eta-Five.”
“Sure,” Tag said with a hint of derision etching his voice. “And you’d ask nothing in return?”
“It would be foolish of me not to. I would hope a gracious gesture would be repaid in kind. Surely the SRE could help us.”
“I told him I’d do what I can when I returned to the Montenegro,” Sofia said.
“You told him about the Montenegro?” Tag asked in disbelief. Now he realized he needed to get the Argo spaceworthy as soon as possible. The capital ship had to be warned of the Mechanic threat immediately. “This snake probably reported its location to the rest of the Mechanics, and they’re closing in on it as we speak. It’ll be destroyed just like the Argo.”
Coren shook his head. “I assure you—”
“No, Coren. Your assurances mean nothing to me.” Tag’s mind raced. He’d wasted enough time enduring supposedly mistaken attacks on his air car and participating in tribal sacrifices. Then a new thought struck him. When he’d been brought here, he had been so distracted by the strange sights of the Forest of Light and the looming threats to his life that he’d been disoriented. “Sofia, do you know the quickest route to the surface?”
“We’re not running away,” Sofia said.
“Please, Lieutenant Commander,” Coren said, “I insist you hear me out.”
Tag grabbed Sofia’s arm. “Come on, we—”
She evaded his grip and pushed him. His mouth fell open in shock, unable to believe she’d been fooled by this snake-person. “Tag, I understand what you’ve gone through, but we need to help them. It’s not right to leave them here like this.”
Tag was ready to protest, but he gazed between Coren and Sofia. They outnumbered him, and he’d waste even more time by trying to convince Sofia his skepticism wasn’t misplaced. But even so, he wouldn’t let himself be outwitted. “Fine. If you’re true to your word, you’ll let us go, and we’ll send an aid envoy back.”
“It was never my intention to make you stay,” Coren said.
Tag’s eyes turned to slits as he evaluated Coren. The alien maintained an unreadable expression, better than any human poker player, making any attempt to discern truth from fiction almost impossible. Without being able to read Coren’s true intent, Tag realized his life was still in the Mechanic’s hands. He reminded himself to stay cautious.
“Is the Argo spaceworthy?” Sofia asked. “You said it was attacked.”
“No,” Tag said. “But with a few repairs from our bots, we can be flying again.”
“It’s not just about repairing the damage, though, is it?” Coren asked as if he already knew the answer. “I’m afraid you can’t rely on any bots or AI. I’m guessing those Drone-Mechs that attacked the Argo inflicted an AI subversion routine on your ship’s comm systems. They tried to do that to the Stalwart, but I managed to establish working firewalls in time to ward them off. It sounds like from your story you weren’t quite as successful as we were.”
“That’s true,” Tag said reluctantly.
“I’m well aware this will only seem to support your hypothesis regarding my motives,” Coren said. “But I’d ask you to let me aboard your ship to fix what the Drone-Mechs have done.”
A plethora of reasons stormed through Tag’s mind, reasoning why he should refuse this proposition. But what did it matter? Coren was right. Tag didn’t know how to restore the ship’s AI. But then again, he had attempted his own fixes. “I’ve already created a new AI to monitor our repair bots and navigation systems.”
Coren’s good eye widened, and his mouth opened a bit, forming a recognizable look of surprise. “A new AI system? That seems a rather difficult procedure. One person developing a functional AI is an enormous feat of engineering. Something that would impress even us.”
Coren’s tone conveyed that he didn’t intend to sound derisive despite the slight barb.
Eternal Frontier (The Eternal Frontier Book 1) Page 15