by C. R. Daems
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Decisions
"Welcome back, Captain Reese. Admiral Wattson sends his regards and would like a debriefing at your convenience," he said. I could visualize the smile on his face. At my convenience meant immediately, if not a whole lot sooner.
"Inform Admiral Wattson, we should be in orbit with the Golden Eagle within eight hours. If he doesn't mind, I'd like you, Captain Gabisi, and Alena to attend in addition to Captain Pavao, and Commander Iglis."
"I'll relay the message. Corbitt out."
"Pavao, Admiral Wattson has requested our presence, at our convenience," I said, imagining her smile.
"I'll get Martin and Iglis out of A1 and send her over to the Mnemosyne. They will need to get cleaned up after four days cooped up in A1. From the preliminary discussions I've had with them, it should be an interesting meeting."
* * *
Terril and I were quiet on the way to the Golden Eagle. We had found something, but what? And what next? A Lt. Commander met us in the shuttle bay when we exited. We were halfway to the conference room before I realized it was Bradshaw. I stopped so abruptly that Sean was several steps ahead before he realized I had stopped.
"I'm sorry, Sean. I'm afraid we've returned with more questions than answers, and it has my mind spinning." Things were bad when the sight of him didn't send a tingling sensation rippling through me.
"I think everyone is distracted. I know Admiral Wattson hasn't been able to settle down since you left. He would have loved to have gone with you but knew his duty was here." He opened the door and Iglis, my detail and I entered. It seemed I was the last to arrive. Wattson sat sipping a glass of wine.
"Sorry—" I started, feeling my face heat up.
"Sit, Reese. Normally, I'd give you a day to rest and get organized, but, besides being impatient to hear what happened, I think the situation requires some urgency. I'm not looking for solutions today, just to understand what we know and don't know." He looked around the table as if evaluating each of us. "Why don't you start, Reese."
"When we entered Kamboja we found nothing out of place … " I described our positions the entry of the merchant, the unidentified ship that followed it, the subsequent chase, and the disabling of the Alien's ship. Pavao described sending the prepared message to A1 and how the ship had outrun the Bobcat. Byer described the encounter with A1 and Seng the boarding action.
"What have you found on A1, Commander Iglis?" Wattson asked, when they had finished.
"There were no controls for organic beings. Although our first impression was that the entire craft was automated, we've since come to the conclusion that the robots operated the equipment." Iglis shrugged, and took a sip of water. "I have nothing to prove that feeling, and I think it's going to take months, if not longer, to be certain one way or the other. The computer language is like nothing my people have ever seen before, more like the Symath symbols the Riss use. And the robots, in a sense, committed suicide—they destroyed their memory boards."
Wattson nodded thoughtfully. "Chief Martin?"
"We were lucky, sir, The ship had no missiles but was equipped with fifty-centimeter lasers. As Commander Byer has attested, they are nasty weapons if you get close. Internally, the hallways and rooms were all equipped with heat sensing lasers. Anything that generated body heat would have activated them. And there was a switch to cause the engines to overheat and destroy the ship. The Sharks struck the power unit in a way that shut down the engines. That deactivated the fifty-centimeter lasers, the internal lasers, and the ship's destruction method. It's going to take time to take it apart, but I can tell it's an Alien craft by the metal composition and the power system."
Wattson laughed, much to everyone's surprise. "Sorry, I'd like to know what the officers passing through the War College would have made of this problem. Today, we spend our time making up conventional problems we can understand." He closed his eyes for several minutes. "We have discovered some tantalizing clues:
They are more advanced than us judging by their ability to send robots to independently collect information.
They are extremely cautious, judging by their defensive measures.
They are locating inhabitable planets by following ships from one planet to another.
They shut down any planet they occupy.
And we now know what their scout ships look like.
If we were at the War College, the question would be, knowing what we know now, what is our logical course of action?" He laughed. "That’s your homework assignment."
You could hear people breathing—the ones not holding their breath—the room was so quiet. Even Wattson sat with his eyes closed. Eventually, he opened them and looked towards me and Pavao, who was sitting next to me. "I leave it to you and Pavao to decide the best way to securely dismantle A1. It may be years before we learn anything, but we need to try anyway." He stood and exited the room. After a few minutes, everyone rose and began leaving.
"Pavao, Iglis, please stay." When they sat again, I motioned to Terril to close the door. "I would like to let Da'Maass and his people assist us in dismantling A1—"
"Captain, that's a top secret ship. We can't let anyone else near it," Iglis said, rising out of her chair. I looked to Pavao, who frowned but said nothing.
"Iglis, that is not a top secret ship. It belongs to a nation that potentially threatens the SAS, Riss, and the clans. I agree with Wattson, but if there is something to be learned, we need the information as soon as we can get it. The clans have the facilities and equipment, and every reason to help. We can provide army security, navy, and Riss personnel to work alongside the clan's people."
"I agree," Pavao said. "Think about it. The clan could build a Riss cruiser, which is top secret. So what? Without the algorithms it would be nothing more than an ugly," Pavao smiled at me, "merchant ship. Reese is right. If there is anything to learn from A1, the faster we find it the better."
After a minute staring at her hands, Iglis looked up. "Sorry, Captain, I forgot to step back and take a deep breath."
* * *
The next day, the Bobcat towed A1 to the repair station. Iglis, the three Captains, and I met with Da'Maass. By the end of the afternoon, we had identified the navy, army, and clan personnel who would be assigned to examining A1 and established the protocol. Army personnel would guard all rooms with A1 equipment, Iglis's people would in addition to examining the computer systems, sign in and out all equipment moving from one room to another, and navy and clan personnel would dismantle and examine each piece of equipment. I presented the plan to Wattson the next day, and he blessed it.
Freeland was a beehive of activity for the next three months. The modifications continued to the Bobcat, Lynx, and Merlin. The modifications to the Shark proved successful and work began on modifying the eight on the Mnemosyne and the two replacements. The Minerva was moving along ahead of schedule, and the disassembly of A1 was going well, although little had been discovered, except the equipment was made to perfection. The software was still a mystery, although the Riss felt there were similarities to Symath. If so, they had a chance of decoding the algorithms.
Wattson took over my normal weekly meetings after we had returned from Kamboja . On day one, a meeting with Da'Maass to review the status of each of the clan's projects and in the evening a meeting with the elders. On day two, an afternoon conference on the Golden Eagle with Wattson, the three SAS Captains on station, Alena, Byer, Seng, Iglis, and me, and afterward, dinner.
Tonight the dinner ran late and everyone exhausted, although Wattson appeared energized by the activity.
"Well, has anyone figured out the answer to the homework assignment?" Wattson asked, smiling like a cat viewing eight delicious mice sitting at the table. Everyone became fascinated by his or her kaffa, wine, or water.
"
No. But we need a SAS and Freeland protocol for when a scout ship shows up here and on another SAS inhabited system." I had been worrying about that for two weeks. The scout ships were the disease carriers. Stopping them wouldn't stop the disease forever, but it would slow it down and give us time. No one spoke. Wattson clapped his hands.
"Thank you, Reese." Wattson waved to a young Lieutenant who had arrived as we were finishing dinner. The young man look nervous, rightly so. Terril and the two other scorpions were watching his every move—like three mongooses and a snake. "Lieutenant Lacey is passing out your homework assignment for next week. In the packet are the facts I said we knew about the invaders. You may add more if you want. The question is what should the SAS and Freeland protocol be for an incoming scout ship? Part two, how would we would implement it."
* * *
As the captains began to leave for their shuttles, I pulled Pavao aside. "Nance, would you mind accompanying me back to the Mnemosyne? I'd like to talk to you, as a friend."
Pavao stared at me for a moment, then nodded. We each took our own shuttle back to the Mnemosyne.
"Walk with me to my office," I said, as she exited the shuttle. Pavao followed me without saying anything. At the office door, Terril seemed to sense my mood and stayed in the hallway when we entered the office. I waved Pavao to one of the padded chairs and sat in the other facing her.
"Damn it!" I banged the arm of the chair and immediately regretted it, as pain shot up my arm.
"What's wrong?" Her forehead wrinkled in concern.
"The SAS initially assumed the Riss all wanted to inhabit humans and leave their Gorillai hosts. That's why we have the Rh tattoos—fear. That assumption couldn't have been further from the truth. The Riss like their Gorillai host and didn't want to be locked away in a human body and mind. They felt we were barbarians, who had chaotic minds, and volunteered only to give the Riss an opportunity to prove they would make good allies."
"They've done that and have been recognized as allies," Pavao said, frowning. "So what's the problem?"
"Nance, the invaders are superior to us—"
"How do you know that?"
"Look at the facts. They can make robots capable of intelligent decisions on a par with humans. Those robots are an army of dispensable soldiers. So we kill a thousand robots. How many of us have to die to kill that thousand—"
"Are you saying the Riss shouldn't—"
"No, Nance. The Riss will stand with the SAS in defense of its people. What I'm saying is that the Riss ships are ready to fight the Aliens, but Alena, Jaelle, and Elissa aren't. They can command a Riss ship, but not to its potential." I closed my eyes and sat back exhausted. The room was so quiet I could hear my heart beating.
"You're upset because you want to ask Riss to accept humans as hosts to Captain the Riss cruisers?"
"Yes and No. Yes, they have proven themselves and shouldn't have to give up their native host. But no, we can't just grab any human, willing or not, make them Riss-humans, and then make them Captains. Unless a person has known me and has been around the Riss for years, it won't work. This is not like putting chocolate in your kaffa. This is putting two intelligent beings into one body. One most people would consider an abomination or something to be feared. At a minimum, the right people would have to have extensive command and battle experience, know me and Thalia well, admire the Riss as a people, and want to participate." I stopped and stared at my kaffa. I had no choice. Alena might win against human opponents in conventional cruisers, but could she against intelligent Aliens?
"My god, Nadya, you're asking me!" She bolted out of the chair and stared at me. I stared back.
"Yes, and I'll understand if you don't even want to consider it. But I'm scared, for the Riss, SAS, and the human race. Everything we know says we're dealing with universe traveling conquerors with superior technology. Ironically, ignoring the reason for the offer, I'm offering you a precious gift—ask Alena, Jaelle, or Elissa."
Pavao continued to pace the room, occasionally stopping to stare in my direction.
"Damn you, Nadya. You are a dybbuk. You're in all our minds—the clans, Plimson, scorpions … " She sat with her head in her hands, mumbling, "damn you, damn you … "
There was nothing I could say, so I sat, mind numb, sipping my kaffa.
"I'm going back to the Bobcat and get drunk. I think that's what Plimson must do after a session with you. I now understand Plimson when he says you've given him a raging headache and another one of those I'm a fool or a genius decisions that depends on how it turns out. I might talk to you tomorrow. Good night, Captain Reese."
* * *
Nothing much happened over the next week. The crews working on A1 hadn't made any significant discoveries. We had been lucky capturing A1. The disabling missile had blown several pieces of metal into the power plant and severed a power line to the ship—a one in a thousand chance. What was left of the robots circuit boards revealed they were one-third the size of ours, permitting everything to be smaller including the spaceship, which made it difficult to detect it following the merchant and when passively collecting planet data. The operational panels appeared to have built in redundancy, and it had one small engine in addition to the main one, apparently for changing positions and leaving the area without being noticed.
Work on the modifications to the Sharks, Bobcat, Lynx, and Merlin, and the assembly of the Eirene were on or ahead of schedule. Freeland was alive night and day with activity and had added two new facilities.
I wasn't too surprised that I hadn't heard from Pavao. I had blind-sided her, and had presented her with a life changing decision. It had been an easy decision for a young Nadya with stars in her eyes and no thought of the consequences of hosting an Alien. Not so easy for a mature adult who understood the magnitude of the decision. I saw only the need. She saw the potential consequences.
Terril joined my detail as I left my office for my weekly meeting with Wattson.
"Have you been sick, Terril?" I asked, realizing she hadn't been part of my Scorpion detail during the week.
"No, I've been reevaluating our boarding techniques given what we know about A1, and the surprises we can expect entering one of their cruisers."
"Why are you here today, then?"
"I need a distraction, and this should be an interesting meeting."
"Why?" I asked. I couldn't think of any reason this meeting would be different from the last few.
"Your homework is due, in case you forgot, and Captain Pavao had that Plimson-look after her session with you." She snorted. "Plus I can always count on you for a surprise or two."
g in an old fashioned conga line.
<.You forgot the Aliens.> As soon as I thought it, three robots with party hats jointed the end of the moving line. I couldn't help but laugh. Terril smiled.
"I see Thalia agrees," she said, as we approached the shuttle. Commander Byer, Iglis, and Colonel Seng were standing there talking. I nodded and entered the shuttle followed by my detail, which violated normal protocol, then the others. I sat alone lost in my thoughts. When we arrived, I noticed shuttles from the Eirene, Bobcat, Lynx, and Merlin were already in the bay. We had taken our seats when Admiral Wattson entered the room.
"Good afternoon, everyone. I'm pleased with the status of our projects and the clan. Reese, your methods are unorthodox, but the results you've achieved are close to miraculous. I thought of them as prisoners when I arrived. Now I have trouble not thinking of them as allies." He walked to the sideboard and pored himself a glass of wine and smiled. "Well, let’s talk about your homework assignment. Corbitt, you first."
We went around the table. Everyone wanted some number of cruisers at each inhabitable planet to destroy the Aliens' scout before it could leave. Wattson seemed to have left me for last.
"Well, Reese, what's your version?"
"I agree in part," I said looking back at him. "We would need several cruisers at each inhabitable planet, since it's unlikely one or two could guarantee destroying a scout based on what we already know. That isn't feasible and would only slow the inevitable. They will eventually obtain a star map of the SAS and attack in sufficient strength to destroy our squadrons, one planet at a time."
"What part do you agree with?" Wattson asked, his eyes alive with amusement, although the situation wasn't amusing.
"I believe we should select six to twelve of the most logical planets for merchants leaving the currently quarantined planets. Station a medium-sized squadron at each system that has a military or strong mercenary presence. And a single light cruiser at each of the others."