Mirror of Stone

by Corie J. Weaver

Doug lay crushed and bloody.

  Adam screamed for a medic, but the call was lost in the woman’s voice that came from everywhere, reverberating across the ship, from within the ship. The halting words made little impression on him as he knelt over the broken boy and remembered fragments of the beginning of a friendship, before everything spun out of control.

  The words began to register in Adam’s mind, almost in time with Doug’s blood as it seeped through Adam’s uniform. Slowly, inescapably, the words poured in. The woman’s voice spoke Standard, with a strange, stiff accent. As the words continued, the oddness fell away, cadences grew familiar.

  “I repeat, I have come to parlay, to speak with you as an ambassador. The Tamkeri, those whom you would fight, wish to converse with you.”

  Shocked silence.

  “It was not their intention this day that any human ships be destroyed. They did not come here to attack you, but to speak with you, to force you to hear them.”

  Mutters from crewmen. Adam stared at the wreckage of Doug.

  “I hear your words of disbelief and I know there is much to explain, much to answer for. However, there is much to explain of Claro’s behavior as well and the Tamkeri will have answers now.”

  Adam jerked back. She could hear them?

  The woman continued on. “Please begin to prepare your committee. I have a final gesture, a token to show the intent of the Tamkeri toward the humans is not what you may have been told.”

  A gasp from behind him drew his eyes away from Doug’s face. A strange form stood in the wreckage of the bridge. The shape wavered in and out of focus, flickered, held, spoke.

  “I am the ambassador the Tamkeri have chosen, as a signal of their wish for understanding and for peace.”

  A human woman stood before them, wrapped in shimmering drapes of fabric, head shaved, arms at her sides, fingers trembling. Her eyes swept from left to right and despite himself Adam shivered. It was almost as if the projection could see into the ships, see him.

  He looked away, disconcerted. A recording? A hostage? Either way, a disturbing image and potentially effective if it sowed the idea through the armada that the aliens had previous, more peaceful contact with the humans.

  Blood from Adam’s wound dripped onto Doug’s face. The boy’s eyelids flickered.

  He focused not on Adam, but past him, towards the hologram of the woman. Doug’s body shuddered with sudden effort as he grabbed at the image. Adam barely heard the boy’s soft whisper.

  “El...”

  The woman’s head snapped towards the movement.

  “Doug?”

  Her eyes moved up, registered Adam’s presence.

  And the image winked out, even as Adam felt the last shuddering breath leave the boy’s body.

  Chapter Twenty

  Eleanor huddled on the floor of the communications room, arms wrapped about her legs and struggled to control her breath.

  Here. Somehow, across all the system, the Guard was here. And Doug, wounded and broken. Impossible, she told herself. An after effect of the drugs. Every nerve in her body shrilled to turn away, to run. She knew it was the Guard.

  But she had to go see Doug anyway.

  She drew herself up from the floor, brushed the wrinkles out of the fabric of her gown and strode in to the light.

  Mikka and Shivuk both waited for her on the bridge.

  “My Lady, do you think they will listen?”

  “Shivuk, I do not know yet. They’ve taken on more damage than we had hoped for. And the destruction of that little ship when it hit the beam has frightened them. They will need to calm down before we make any progress.”

  Eleanor stilled her fingers, gathered her thoughts. “There’s something else. I saw someone on one of their ships. I need to go over to that ship, as soon as you can identify which it was.”

  Mikka exploded. “Hatchling, are you mad?” She grasped Eleanor’s arm with rigid fingers and hustled her back into the privacy of the communications room. Shivuk followed. In the dim lighting, Eleanor wasn’t sure if he showed concern for her, or amusement at Mikka’s tone.

  The door shut behind them and Mikka continued. “Why would you walk into a nest of our enemies? And you’re just now healed. I don’t think you’re well enough. No.”

  Eleanor repressed the urge to wrap her arms around Mikka’s thin frame. “Mikka. If I don’t go into human places, how will I treat with them? When we get to Claro, I will be equally surrounded. It will be worse.”

  She turned and bowed to Shivuk.

  “My Lord Caprat, while we wait for them to decide how to deal with us, it matters little where exactly I am, correct? I propose sending a message to them, expressing my wish to visit one of their ships. I will let them know that if I and my guardian,” she gestured to a silently protesting Mikka, “are not treated well and do not return at the prearranged time, you will destroy every one of their craft.”

  Shivuk signaled surprise. “Gladly! I would have preferred a more direct path of retribution all along. Why have you decided to agree with me?”

  “I don’t. But if their military leaders will not honor an agreement to keep one human girl safe for an hour, when they can see before their eyes what the consequences will be, I am not sure if there is any hope for a treaty at all.”

  Eleanor strode down the gangway of the shuttle into the landing bay of the Galileo. She kept her head high and smothered her nerves.

  The escort of Tamkeri warriors had been arranged at Mikka’s insistence. Seeing the pale faces of the three human officers standing before her, she wondered if it had been the right decision. Of course, there had been no other way. Surely she could not go unescorted and if her escorts seemed alien to the humans, well, that was the point, wasn’t it?

  She stood before the human captain and looked him in the eye, searching for clues. A squarish face topped with hair clipped so short it was hard to tell if it had been brown or black before the grey took over most of it. Eyes that were dark with anger set into a carefully blank face. The corded neck of the blond man standing to the right of the captain seemed to indicate less control.

  That could be determined later. “Captain Bullfinch, did you receive my request?”

  The tall man studied her, gazed at Mikka, then returned to her. “Are you really working for these creatures?”

  “Believe what you will, I am working towards avoiding a war.” Bullfinch shifted his stare away from her to the Tamkeri arranged behind her. “As I sent in my message, while you and your fellow captains are conferring, I would appreciate finding out the fate of one of your crewmen. Is he present?”

  “Who?” said Bullfinch.

  The blond officer behind him leaned forward, lip curled. “Crewman Reilly, sir.” Then he whispered in the captain’s ear.

  “Ah.” He nodded toward the large hatch at the far end of the bay. “Houghton, take her.”

  The blond man muttered under his breath, and Bullfinch turned. “Actually, keep an eye on things here and let me know when the council reconvenes. I’ll take her down myself.”

  Mikka clicked rapidly and the soldiers shifted in response.

  Eleanor turned her back to the human group and spoke to her guards in Tamker. “Please, stay with the shuttle. Mikka and I will be fine and they are already distressed by our presence among them.”

  “Besides,” she twitched amusement, “This will make your eventual rescue of us more heroic, will it not?” She bowed, perhaps deeper than necessary for an Ambassador to soldiers. She faced the human party, heard clicks of laughter behind her and relaxed just a touch.

  As they walked down the grey metal corridors, Eleanor turned to the captain. “Have you and the other captains selected who among you will go to Claro and arrange for us to speak with the humans?”

 
Bullfinch shook his head. “I’d like to go myself, see what this is all about. But, we must wait for instructions from Claro.”

  Mikka spoke. “The Tamkeri have waited to hear from Claro for quite long enough. They tire of waiting.”

  Bullfinch stopped short. “You speak Standard? You understand us?”

  “I speak your language. But no, I do not understand you at all.” Mikka paused while she examined the man’s stunned face. “My apologies. I may not understand your humor, either. However, should we not continue to find the Ambassador’s friend? I promise that if you would like we can speak together at length later.”

  Bullfinch jerked his head up and down, eyes wide, and moved down the hall again. He paused when they arrived at a small door. “Ma’am. In the attack, we took a lot of damage. Not that I’m saying anything is anyone’s fault, per se.” He looked past her shoulder. “Well, you’d better come on in.”

  The room was small, dimly lit, with no furnishings other than a narrow bed and a pair of chairs.

  “We moved him here. I thought you’d appreciate the privacy.”

  Eleanor stood rigid at the doorway. The room was so still. Why wasn’t he being cared for? Where was the doctor, the machine to diagnose and cure him?

  Mikka looked at Bullfinch and he nodded once. “Ma’am, I’m sorry...”

  Eleanor couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move from where she stood inside the doorway. The little spot became her whole world, a black well with her at the bottom.

  The familiar, slick feel of Mikka’s fingers on her arm brought her back, opened the trap until she could at least breathe. “I am sorry you grieve so for him. I will send the human away so you can mourn in private.”

  Through the fog that had enveloped her, wrapped her with spider sticky lines, one word. “No.”

  Mikka paused. “You wish him to remain?”

  Every word a battle, eyes still riveted to the figure on the bed. “I need him to provide further assistance.”

  Eleanor looked for the older man. He stood close to the narrow bed and watched her.

  “There was another man with him when he was injured, correct?”

  He nodded.

  “Do you know if that man had been with SecDept or had lived on Travbon before coming here?”

  Bullfinch’s eyes lost focus as he recalled. His words halted as he rummaged through his memory. “Normally, no, I wouldn’t have much idea about a crew member’s past. But I review bridge crew’s files when they get assigned.” He returned his gaze to her and nodded. “Yes, he was. How did you know?”

  “Would you have someone bring him here? I would speak with him alone.”

  Bullfinch pressed his lips together. Through her fog Eleanor guessed at the reason. “He will not be harmed. I only want to know what happened.”

  His sharp nod told her she had guessed his concern correctly. Bullfinch stepped out the door, leaving them alone with Doug.

  Eleanor stumbled towards the shape on the bed. His face looked hard. What had happened after she left? She reached for his hand, shuddered at the cold feel. Strange, she thought. I had thought the shells of the Tamkeri would make this not so horrible. Even with them I can feel life. Here there’s nothing.

  Mikka remained silent for a moment more then burst forth. “This man you have asked for. Is he the one--”

  “Yes, the man that chased me, tried to kill me. The one in my dreams.”

  “Then you cannot see him.”

  “I must. And alone.” She placed Doug’s arm back at his side, smoothed the sleeve back down. No wrinkles, there should be no wrinkles. “What good am I as your spokesperson if one man can terrify me from across a room? I need to face him. I need to know why all of this happened.”

  “You have only now healed. I will not have you hurt again. I would rather not have you frightened, either.”

  Mikka left the room. Eleanor sat beside Doug’s body and wondered where her tears had gone.

  A long time passed.

  A gentle rap at the door brought Eleanor back to herself and the small barren room.

  She leaned over and pressed her lips to Doug’s cold forehead and then rose to face her nightmare.

  The door opened and Mikka walked in, her fingers locked around the upper arm of a man who struggled against her grip.

  Eleanor stared. Brown hair, clipped short, with a hint of curl, if allowed to grow. Hazel eyes in a nice face, plain, nothing she would have looked at twice in a crowd. This was the horror, the monster of her nightmares? He didn’t radiate malice and madness now, only fear.

  The man dragged his eyes away from Mikka to Eleanor and stopped fighting. Mikka shoved him into the chair across from Eleanor and stalked out of the room.

  The man’s bruised eyes never left her face. “The Weber girl. I thought it might be, you looked familiar and Doug recognized you. But...I didn’t know. I’m glad you’re not dead.”

  Eleanor stepped back and tilted her head. “What an odd thing to say, since you were the one who tried to kill me.”

  His face, paler now than she remembered, lost yet more color and he slumped in the chair. “I see. I don’t remember that, but there was some suspicion.” He looked at the occupant of the bed, looked away. “He always suspected I’d killed you.”

  Eleanor clutched her mask of calm. “You don’t remember? You chased me into the river. You hunted me through the mountains. You attacked me, bound me like an animal. You threw Frank down the cliff and you don’t remember?” She kept her voice low, hissing. “What do you have against me? I’d done nothing to you, nothing to anyone. And now,” she swept her arm towards the bed. “Now you’ve killed Doug.”

  His head snapped up. “Wait just a minute here. I wasn’t the one who fired on this ship. That was your bunch. You may as well have killed Doug yourself.” He ran his gaze over her. “What are you doing with them, anyhow? How can you side with the enemy?”

  “The Tamkeri captured the ships because they can’t get Claro to answer them. They’ve tried to communicate for years. We’ve ignored every message, and then settled on their moon. Besides, what was the fleet doing, coming to borrow a cup of sugar?”

  “Wait. What moon? We’re on their moon?”

  “Where did you think you were heading? Ladril. The Tamkeri are on Ladril. When the humans came to Travbon, they sent messages, but no one answered. They’re fed up with being ignored. How else were they going to get our attention?”

  The man struck the wall and Eleanor flinched. “That’s it. I’ve got to tell Jake. That’s what she’s been hiding. But why?” He headed for the door.

  “Stop. Sit back down right now.”

  He looked at her, startled.

  “You may have forgotten, but you are here because I wanted to speak with you. I don’t know who Jake is and I don’t know if I care. I don’t even know your name yet. And it’s not that important, actually.”

  She paused.

  “What is important is what we do next.”

  He eased back into the chair, tensed to spring for the door.

  “I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. But from what you just said, you know things. I want answers from you. About all of it.” She raised her voice, changed her language. “Mikka. I’m ready.”

  The man scrambled to his feet and stumbled away from the door as Mikka entered. Eleanor smothered a bubble of laughter at his discomfort, but only shared her amusement with Mikka.

  “We’re going to have a long time to talk. I’ve decided on a change of plan. You’re coming with me to Claro.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Adam struggled away from the nightmare in front of him. Tall, angular, the green color of rotted fruit; sharp mandibles thrust out as the alien gabbled at him. He pulled his eyes away. “What do y
ou mean? I don’t want to go with you to Claro.”

  The captain leaned against the corridor wall outside the small room. “Sir, they’re taking me with them!”

  Bullfinch shook his head. “I think we’d better talk about that, ma’am. I’m not in the habit of assigning out my crewmen, especially against their will.”

  The girl turned to Adam. “In there, next to Doug’s body, you sounded like you knew things I don’t.”

  Adam pressed his lips, looked away.

  “You may not want to go, but you owe me answers. You owe me a lot more than that.” Her face never softened, never changed expression, but her voice dropped. “And if you don’t remember, if you really want to know, I’ll tell you what happened in the mountains.”

  His eyes snapped back to hers.

  “Do we have a deal?” she whispered.

  “Yes.” More a sigh than an answer, but sufficient.

  A flash from out of the side hallway interrupted them.

  “Weapons fire, get down!” shouted Bullfinch.

  The alien holding Adam made a horrible noise, a yell of fury, then slammed him into the wall.

  Adam slid to the floor, head ringing, unable to do more than watch the scene unfold in fragments, hand pressed to his temple, the blood warm on his fingers.

  Houghton, face red and distorted, at the head of three or four other crewmen, rushed out of the corridor towards the alien and the girl. “Kill the traitor, see how they feel when we have hostages of our own!”

  Bullfinch stood to the side, shouting words Adam couldn’t hear.

  The girl, shocked, sad.

  The alien. Oh, the alien. It pushed the girl towards the open door of the room they had just left and turned to face the attackers. It made no sound after that first tortured scream, but began to move, slowly, picking up speed, jade limbs swirling like blades of a windmill, the long robe fluttering and flashing.