He held out a piece of jerky on the open palm of his hand and spoke evenly and quietly to the apprehensive animal.
“Come on, you really know I’m okay. I may not look like what you’re used to but you know a good guy when you see one.”
Hayes noticed that he was attracting an audience as the groups in the field coalesced into a single group focused on what he was doing.
It was easier this time; she, cautiously, slunk up to him and removed the meat from his hand with a delicate side-bite before retreating a meter to eat it. There was an approving murmur from the audience.
He smiled at the creature as she enjoyed chewing the jerky, “That was easy, wasn’t it?”
He slapped his legs gently, “Come on, you can come closer; I’m really very friendly.” He was counting on the fact that this animal had already been a companion to a Forester and would respond favorably. She was still apprehensive, but she did scoot a little closer. Another ten minutes and a couple of more small pieces of jerky, and she stopped moving away to eat, and he managed to stroke her head.
“See, I’m not so bad.”
He gave her a couple of large pieces, “Here, take this to your babies and I’ll see you later.”
He started to return to the stool as she disappeared under the bush but changed that to a full standing position when he realized that Joe and a couple of the leadership group had been standing behind him.
“I am Hayes; Ames and Twisst will be here soon.”
Joe did not look concerned about that.
“You
Hayes waved a hand at the Santana, “I am the pilot, the controller of the starship. My job was to bring them here so that they could talk to you.”
“You
“I can talk with you if you wish. It is Ames and Twisst that were sent to do that, but I have knowledge of this problem.”
“How much knowledge”
Hayes thought for a moment then indicated that they should take seats; he took a seat close to them and swept an arm across the sky.
#
Twisst stepped off the ladder to stand behind Ames; the group of Foresters sitting in the field were facing away from them and watching Hayes talking to Joe.
“We’d better get over there.” She said.
Ames held up a hand to stop her, “No! Wait.”
#
“My people number in the tens of billions. We are spread across hundreds of light-years and hundreds of star systems. Yet, we are alone; we had never found another intelligent, tool-using species like us until we came here and found you. We found you about fifteen of your years ago, and, for the last seven years, I have been involved with others in watching you and learning about you and the problem you face.”
Hayes looked into Joe’s eyes and wondered what Joe saw in his eyes, “We formulated a plan to bring ships in and move you to another planet, but it looks like we have waited too long. The ships that are on their way here now are all we had in the area. A great plan has turned into an incomplete act of desperation.”
Hayes leaned closer to Joe, “Our best scientists believe that all life on this planet will end soon.”
Joe’s expression changed; Hayes couldn’t tell what it was because he just wasn’t familiar enough with Forester expressions. He did know it wasn’t a smile. Joe and his companions rose and walked back toward the town.
#
Ames glanced at Twisst, “It looks like we have the day off; come on.”
They walked through the Foresters toward Hayes, not noticing the startled expressions.
His head was bent forward and his eyes were closed as they approached.
“What did you tell him?” asked Ames, quietly.
“The worst thing I possibly could, their end and our inability to do enough about it. Sorry, Docs; I’m not much of a politician, I don’t lie very well.”
They took seats facing him.
“Don’t worry about it;” Ames said, “our job wasn’t to come here and lie. They got a bit of a shock yesterday, and they really have no time to make decisions. It is better that we get it over with. Now that I think about it, I have no idea what I would have done except tell them that we can save some of them and the rest must die. I suppose I must thank you for relieving me of that task.”
“You’re not welcome, Doc.”
##
A tendency to deny the existence of hostility during periods of peace and prosperity had led to a reclassification of the Kellogg and Rance as Patrol Escorts. In fact, they were both Grimes-class destroyers and had been kept updated with the latest advances in technology. As with many times in human history, the people responsible for such things knew that if there ever was a real need for destructive capability, notification would, most likely, come in the form of the pointy end of a weapons system of some sort oriented up one’s posterior. Advanced technology was part of the equation; paranoia, caution, preparedness--call it what you will--was the other part.
The confined and heavily armored bridge of the Kellogg is dark except for the glow of the readouts and consoles in front of the five, tightly restrained crew members.
“Breakout in five, four, three, two, one.”
The blackness of the isolator drive environment in the arc of screens suddenly snapped to a view of real space. The star-filled display barely had time to register with the bridge crew before the AI executed a random evasion maneuver that had become operational policy for arrivals in unknown situations. The six reactors ran up to fifty percent of rated power and poured most of it through the triple ring structure that circled the hull and passed through the support structure for the two neutron beam projectors.
“Negative radar targets! Negative radar targets! Negative radar targets!”
“Negative mass conflict!”
“AI, stand-down evasive maneuvers.”
The AI settled the Kellogg back on an intercept course for the Forest primary, swapped ends and ran up the power to begin deceleration.
The officer at the navigation station brought up the view of the star they were approaching, “Sir, the situation has not improved. Recommend a by-pass and snapshot.”
Commander Ross Pressler, Captain of the Kellogg, replied, “Do what it takes.”
Pressler knew that the heavy armor and hardened systems of his ship could, probably, take what was apparently happening ahead of them, but he also knew that a less strenuous path was available that would not compromise his mission.
“Can we punch a signal through that crap?”
Lieutenant Commander Liz Milbank, First Officer of the Kellogg, had been working at the com panel, “The Santana should have been on the ground for a couple of days now, but I’m not receiving its beacon.” She looked to her left at Pressler, “At this point, I’m not worried; wait until we clear those flares.”
Pressler nodded and watched as nav altered their previously planned course and lined up a snapshot transition past the Forest primary.
#
The fallout from the talk that Hayes had with Joe that morning was spreading to the general population; the mood of the group on the field had switched from curiosity and wonder to something dark. Like all information that gets handed from one to the other, some of it got confused. The sun was setting as Hayes sat on his usual seat, talking to a large group, and, for the fourth time, assured them that he, Ames, and Twisst were not there to kill them.
Twisst was standing out in the group so that her translator could be heard by as many as possible, “What is happening to your star is far beyond what we can do. All that we can do is to move some of you to a safe place.”
An older male stood and pointed at Twisst.
“In our time of
&nbs
p; Hayes leaned toward Ames, “I hadn’t seen any indications of religious inclination. Is this just galloping paranoia from the fringe cave-dwellers?”
Ames had a surprised look on his face and just shrugged his shoulders.
Twisst was, also, a bit surprised by the outburst; she turned to face the fanatic.
She spread her hands to indicate the group as a whole, “You are an intelligent people, and it should soon become obvious to you that what we are trying to do is disorganized and haphazard. We are billions of people spread across a vast area of space; we possess wealth that you can only imagine, but because of the distances involved and the lack of time, what we can do will be limited to what was available at our star system nearest to yours.”
She pointed at the Santana, “This small ship only had room for the three of us, and we were sent to tell you what we can do for you. The next ship to arrive is a small ship designed for exploration. That will be followed by two warships that have little room for people but can get some of you away from here. There will be two cargo ships and one true passenger ship that will only hold a few thousand of you. The biggest ship that will arrive is an old colony ship that has not been used in fifteen years.”
She turned from one side of the group to the other, “It is all that we had available, and it may not be enough. If we had wanted you for evil reasons, I should think that we would have done a better job of planning. In the end, if you do not wish to go, then we will leave and go back to our own world; we will not force you.”
The fanatic settled back to the ground and began an energetic discussion with those around him. Hayes got the impression he was meeting resistance.
“CONTACT WITH SHIP’S BEACON - IDENTITY, PATROL ESCORT KELLOGG.”
“AI, acknowledged. AI, transmit updated translator program to all ships entering the Forest system and switch traffic control operations to the Kellogg.”
Ames had heard and was looking at him; Hayes hollered to Twisst, “Doctor Twisst, the Santana just picked up the Kellogg’s beacon.”
“AI, full exterior lighting; illuminate extent of game field as much as possible.”
Hayes should have thought about that before he ordered a bazillion watts of lighting to appear on a world where electric lights were limited and low-powered.
It took a couple of minutes to change a wave of panic into general wonder.
“Kellogg to Santana; Hayes, you down there?”
That sounded like Liz.
“Santana to Kellogg; I’m down at Watts as planned and have just activated my exterior lighting. What’s your ETA?”
“We just got a visual on the loom of your lights around the edge. We should be in equatorial orbit in twenty minutes and another twenty to ground. Is everything under control?”
He knew the actual intent of that last question; the Kellogg was a warship, crewed by people that knew how to use it. If he said something nonsensical like ‘Jasper is playing chess’, their arrival would take on a much different tone.
“No problems for us; we’re getting along very well with the locals although they are having the expected problem dealing with the situation.”
“Good to hear that. Be advised that the last we heard before we jumped was that the Streak may not be coming due to reactor problems.”
He and Ames exchanged a look, “Acknowledged.”
Ames looked depressed, “What were her words, ‘disorganized and haphazard’?”
#
The word spread through the rest of the town that more aliens were arriving. In spite of that, it proved fairly easy to keep the central part of the field clear. Hayes knew that the Kellogg only carried two general purpose floaters; if they managed to fill them with refugees, it would be all that the Kellogg had room for.
Joe and several of the town leaders stood with Hayes, Ames, and Twisst as the floaters settled silently to the ground.
“CONTACT WITH SHIP’S BEACON - IDENTITY, PATROL ESCORT RANCE.”
“AI, acknowledged.”
Joe looked curious about what had not been translated for him. Hayes told him, “Another ship like this one has just arrived in your system.”
The floaters were designed like standard planetary surface floaters but with more power to enable orbital capability; their seating was oriented fore and aft like common wheeled ground transport but placed on a flat, widened base to accommodate the larger grav plating. Hayes could see that they were empty except for the two pilots in each. He could also see that Commander Pressler was in the right seat of the nearest floater.
Hayes approached as Pressler exited through the forward hatch and exchanged salutes. Pressler was slightly shorter than Hayes with black hair, dark eyes, and light brown skin; he slowly scanned the quiet crowd along the edge of the field.
“Hayes, I’m here strictly as transport, and I am ready to take on passengers at your order. Are they ready to go?”
“If I had to swear to it, I’d say ‘I don’t know’. Indications are that they are still in denial although I have had one indication of what could be called anger. Basically, there have been no indications of anyone packing and heading for the station. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the Mayor of the town.” Hayes pointed at his com pad, “Hang your pad like this so it can translate.”
The walk over to the main group was done in the continuing crushing silence; no one even coughed. What Hayes knew of Forester facial expressions--and what he was seeing now--gave rise to a sudden conviction that the Foresters had not believed them--until now. Now they were staring at proof of what they had been told was going to happen.
“Doctor Twisst, Doctor Ames, this is Commander Ross Pressler, Captain of the Kellogg.”
Pressler shook hands with both of them, “Yes, we’ve met before at a couple of the Admiral’s get-togethers. How are things going for you?”
“Glad to see you, Commander; things could be going better, I suppose.” said Ames.
Hayes indicated Joe, “This is Joe; he is the leader of this town. Joe, this is Commander Pressler; he is the Captain of the first ship to arrive to evacuate your people.”
Pressler was quick on the uptake and had noticed the rigidity in the expression and body language of Joe; he did not attempt to shake his hand but saluted instead.
“Sir, my ship is ready at any time to help your people.” He swept his hand back toward the two floaters, “Unfortunately, my ship is not intended to transport people. I will only be able to take as many as will fit in these two carriers.”
Joe’s eyes shifted to the two floaters, to Hayes, to Pressler, to the floaters….”
Hayes saw a problem, so he put his arm around Joe and turned him to face Ames and Twisst, “Why don’t you go talk with Ames and Twisst and work something out.” He made a thumb and little finger drinking motion at Ames who nodded in return.
He stood next to Pressler and watched the leadership group head into the town.
Pressler looked at him, “Did that go well?”
Hayes shook his head, “Not a bit.”
#
Hayes and Pressler sat on the low edge of the grav plate lip of one of the Kellogg’s floaters and watched the two floaters from the Rance settle behind them. They waved at Commander Rose Mays, the Captain of the Rance, who was piloting one of them.
Pressler looked down at the far end of the field and then to the far side, “The Winslow and Pugnacious each have two large cargo floaters and the Gregory Falls has six passenger floaters and two cargo floaters. In two to three days, this field is going to be a used floater lot.”
##
“Well, what do you think, Madigan?”
Hans Madigan, Captain Stewart Weathers’ personal steward, stood back to take in the glistening culmination of a year-long effort by Weathers to create a proper dress uniform for a man of his exalted status.
“Don’t you think the sword is a little too much, sir, especially with the jewels all over the hilt?”
“Nonsense, I know those Navy people; they�
��ll all be strutting around in their formal dress uniforms trying to impress the locals with their gold braid and medals.”
“Of course, sir, there is also the fact that this uniform is not yet approved by the Paradise Found Board of Directors.”
“Oh, it will be. When I get my sector command, I’ll be able to push it through. Now, help me get it off.”
##
It was 0015 hours ship time as Wills stepped off the elevator on crew-deck 1. He had taken the 1800-0000 watch and CeCe had the 0000-0600 watch; this gave them some time during the day to move around and talk to people. His original intent was to take some time after his watch to walk around and surprise what should have been the very few other crew members that would be awake at this hour. Instead, his current direction of travel toward the CD1 dining hall followed the most powerful, mind numbing pheromone known to human biology, and filled the halls with the irresistible smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls.
It turned out that one of the passengers from the Gregory Falls was something of an amateur pastry chef and had found vast and unused resources in the kitchens of a ship designed to transport a quarter million that now had less than a thousand aboard. It had taken just the four days they had been here to turn the midnight hour into the biggest social gathering on the ship.
Wills turned into the crowded dining hall and grinned at the scene; almost all the tables were full with a variety of coffees and teas washing cinnamon rolls down every throat. He wasn’t surprised to see Helt there, but it was a bit odd to see him fiddling inside an open panel on the master conduit at the back of the food prep area.
“So, what’s the problem?”
Helt turned to Wills, “Did you notice the higher strength of the cinnamon smell as you stepped off the elevator?”
Odd question, “Well, yes; I would have to say it was a pleasant slap in the face. Why do you ask?”
Helt pointed at the screen inside the open panel, “One of the normal functions of the Weasel’s ventilation systems is to suppress odors as much as possible; the galley systems are especially effective at that. The first night we had these rolls, I heard someone say that this is one odor that should fill the ship. So, I verbalized a half-hearted order to the AI to allow cinnamon roll smell to flood CD1.”
Ariticle Six Page 9