“Perhaps they learned where we call home.” Thad offered.
Sarge countered that idea before Mirikami could. “Trakenburg wouldn’t share that information with Henry, even if he knew. He’d keep it for himself, as a bit of knowledge that isn’t valuable now, but could be a bargaining chip later.”
Dillon tried an idea. “Some other secret then. Concerning our gene mods, because we know they have taken samples from all of us. Perhaps they figured out where some genes must have derived from, the hypothetical source.” He was obviously thinking of ripper and raptor genes.
Mirikami shook his head. “Henry has access to a planet load of experts with far better resources to use for that purpose than Trakenburg. It isn’t Henry briefing spec ops right now; it’s the other way around. I’m wondering why the aloof colonel included a subordinate like Captain Longstreet in a briefing of sensitive information to the general, unless Joe was involved, or was required for corroboration. I think Joe is the wild card here. What could he know about, that he’s needed by Trakenburg to brief or convince Nabarone?”
Thad said, “If you’re thinking secrets, then Joe and his men are with us and the TGs every day for training. You already addressed someone accidentally leaking the location of home, and the colonel knows that, he is probably holding onto that information. What other secrets do we have they could have learned? Somebody mention rippers, rhinolo, raptors or moosetodons?”
“Nah,” refuted Sarge. “When I first heard of those they didn’t mean crap to me. They were just words, without a picture of them. Did anyone slip up and bring recordings from home, and even if they did, where do the new animals live? It doesn’t help them find home. Besides, why would Trakenburg bother to tell Henry? They aren’t good buddies.”
“There are other, more intangible pictures they could receive,” offered Carson.
“But we don’t send images, or words, without consciously trying to Tap,” countered Ethan.
“You two can certainly receive them without much effort from anyone not shielding.” Mirikami offered. “Figuring out that our TG1’s have that ability would be a big revelation. Worth explaining to Henry, and discussing what it means and how much we could know about their own plans and secrets. Ethan, Carson, have you seen any hints that Joe or any of his men suspect what you can do?”
“Uncle Tet, per your instructions we don’t Tap them. Not to send images for certain, and not even to receive. We respect their privacy. They are not the Krall.” Ethan protested.
Mirikami shrugged. “Mostly that’s true. But receiving happens unintentionally sometimes.” He smiled, not mentioning Kally’s inadvertent encounter with Longstreet.
Carson had the best suggestion. “We send to each other all the time, in group Taps during and after training sessions. How many times have the instructors commented how we learn so fast, that they don’t need to repeat things to us often? We’ve become rather casual about the rings we form for group Mind Taps, pretending they are just part of team building. Captain Longstreet sees us do that all the time, and he’s a sharp, observant man.”
Mirikami took that as a working hypothesis. “That may not be it, but it fits with how they’re behaving, and ranks up there with the sort of thing that secretive Colonel Trakenburg would fear the most. If that’s it, then we want to be ready to handle their questions.”
“You don’t think a denial will work, Sir?” Ethan was feeling a bit of guilt, as one of the TG1’s that may have let the blue rat out of the bag.
“No. We’ll want them to trust us later, and this knowledge will eventually come out anyway. If that’s the issue, I think a full explanation and demonstration is called for, input and output Taps, as well as telling them how we non-Tapping SGs can fool you TG1s, and shield our thoughts. And we definitely know the reverse is true, don’t we?” He winked at the two TG1s, who had hidden far more than their fair share of youthful shenanigans from the older generation.
“What if this isn’t what they’re worried about?” asked Thad.
“Then we’ll all be surprised together.”
It was another eight minutes before Jakob informed them that the three men were walking towards the Mark.
****
The six Kobani were standing at the far end of the conference table, sipping various beverages when the three officers arrived. Mirikami smiled and started forward with Thad, when Nabarone, blushing, held out both palms in a push gesture, and said, “No offense, Tet, Thad, but let’s keep a table between us for now, please. Until we conclude the strangest discussion, initiated by the colonel and captain here that I’ve ever had with anyone.
Greeves and Mirikami, not acting surprised, glanced at one another, and stayed at their end of the table. Mirikami had a half smile, observing the acute red-faced discomfort of Nabarone, the embarrassed and guilty look on Longstreet’s face, and the shrewd observer’s penetrating gaze from Trakenburg.
Mirikami half bowed, and said, “We were discussing reasons for your delay, since Colonel Trakenburg is normally such a stickler for punctuality.” A nod to the colonel.
“Frankly, we talked about what the three of you must be saying in private. I’m not surprised you are behaving a bit reserved.”
Mirikami paused, and added with a sense of mischievousness, “You must have read our minds.”
The stricken and confirming looks on the three officer’s faces was so hilarious, that none of the other six could hold back their laughter. Thad and Sarge were nearly bent over, and Mirikami, highly amused at his own impromptu quip, was leaning on the table with one hand supporting him, as he released an uncharacteristic gale of laughter that almost left him breathless.
Raising a hand towards them, Mirikami, still laughing, tried to speak. “I’m…, sorry. That was mean…,” he laughed some more. “It just came out…, and you looked petrified.” He struggled to get control, but when he looked up at them, he burst out laughing again.
“This isn’t funny,” Nabarone said. “You overheard us somehow, and set us up.” Despite his words to the contrary, he was starting to laugh at what he thought was a joke on him. He shot a look of irritation at Trakenburg, whom he now wondered if he had a funny bone after all, and had planned this. The colonel wasn’t looking at all amused, and his face was red with anger. Longstreet was simply looking puzzled, wearing a half smile.
Thad regained his composure and his voice. “Henry, Tet did make a joke, but we didn’t know for sure what you three had been talking about.” He chuckled. “We guessed at several possibilities, but it had to be some startling secret the two of them needed to tell you, and that would take some time to get you to accept. You half confirmed our best guess when you held back from handshakes. Your expressions when Tet made that loaded remark, was a clincher.”
Nabarone had cycled back from laughing at the joke he thought was on him, to confusion. “What the hell. Is this a bullshit story about you having mindreading ability, or is it real?”
“Henry, for me, any of us SGs for that matter, it is crap. For Ethan and Carson, and some others with a later genetic mod, it is real. With limitations that you appear to know something about, because you avoided physical contact just now.”
Longstreet spoke up. “The term TG1 apples to the TGs that have this extra ability. Is that right?”
“Yes.” Mirikami had finally recovered his demeanor. “We had ten TG1’s total when we left home, with what was a new genetic ability for humans. Three of them are on our other two ships. Please note that I said this is a new human ability. We discovered its existence in a native life form where we live, nearly twenty years ago. It seemed a useful feature to copy when we learned how to do it, and we were ready.” He grinned. “It’s pretty neat, huh?”
Trakenburg was still not amused by the light-hearted tone Mirikami was following. “You might have shared that information from the start.”
“Share that with the man that sent his troopers fully prepared to kill our kids, before you even knew a thing about u
s? Tell you a secret you wouldn’t have believed anyway. Yet which might have provoked you into issuing an order that could have forever blocked cooperation? Our caution was as reasonable as yours seemed to you, and avoided a disaster.”
Trakenburg snapped off a reply, “You know what we’ve been thinking and we don’t know your real intentions.”
“Actually, you do know what our intentions are because we told you, and we were truthful. If there were no TG1’s, how would that have made our intentions any more believable? We are a small group, exposing ourselves to people that might consider human genetic modifications worthy of the death penalty. What did you risk sitting in your office, watching us through your spy bots? The risk was all ours.”
“I’ll accept that, but how do we get around the trust issue if you always know our every thought? Do we have to always avoid contact?”
Looking at the other two men, even without Mind Tap ability, he could see that question was on their minds. “The ability has more limitations than requiring physical contact. It actually is strongest with hand-to-hand contact, because that is how it was designed to work with humans. Fingers have a high density of nerve endings, and actual contact is essential, although we have found that a diluted form of transfer is possible via a conducting material. For example, through a conductive metal for a short distance.
“As for pulling information from someone, it isn’t as general and detailed as you may think. You actually have to be thinking of the subject for a TG1 to receive the images, which sometimes have words embedded.” He suddenly laughed.
Shaking his head, he said, “Why am I, a blind man, describing what a person with eyes can see? Carson, would you please describe the process before I put a foot in my mouth?”
“Yes Sir.” He paused for a few milliseconds to sort thoughts.
“OK. For one thing, words are harder to receive from a non-TG1. Ethan and I can do that easily with other TG1’s, but from anyone else the words are partly inferred by the mental images we see, and we can sense emotional content for most pictures. To Mind Tap someone that doesn’t know what we can do, we might start with a leading question or statement, to get them actively thinking of what we are interested in learning. If they know what we can do, and don’t want us to know, the simple act of not wishing to tell us is sufficient to block us. If I ask who you slept with last night, and you said none of my business, or just refused to answer, I can’t get around your refusal to extract that thought.”
Nabarone said, “The words Mind Tap, and just Tap was used. Is that what you call doing this?”
“Yes Sir. You might also hear someone call it frilling, because the intelligent animal we discovered this ability in, called a …,” he was interrupted by four SGs and Ethan.
Red-faced and sheepish he apologized. “Oh crap, sorry Dad, guys.”
Explaining, “I almost said an animal name that the Krall could instantly connect to our home world if they heard it from a human. The genetic mental ability we copied is from an animal, and we initially called the experience frilling. We still do when it happens with one of these animals. The Krall do not know that word, or of this ability in those animals.”
He paused for an instant, trying to remember what he was going to say before his near slip.
Ethan stepped in. “Anyone can send us a mental image that they want us to see, even a false picture they made up; perhaps to convey or illustrate an idea, and they can hold back anything they wish. Apparently, due to thousands of years of humans practicing deceit, people are very good at withholding information, and at lying in a Mind Tap.
“A person that is unaware of our ability, or unguarded, might leak a bit about what we just asked or said, but it isn’t as if they spilled their guts of a lifetime of secrets. If I ask what you had for lunch, I won’t see a picture of your breakfast. If I ask what you had to eat today, and you don’t hold back, I might get it all in a fast series of mental flashes.
“Once you know of my ability, it’s not hard to hold back anything. I know my saying this won’t convince you, but that’s how it works. My friends that are non-TG1s can block me, as can virtually every one of the SGs block me. These guys,” he nodded a head at the older men, “and all of those at home.”
Longstreet, for Nabarone’s benefit, asked a pertinent question. “Warren Brock beat two of my men in a fight in that parking garage. Do you know about that?”
“Oh, sure. He’s a TG1 and shared it with all of us.”
“Did he read their minds?”
“Sure, at least as to what they each intended to do first. Each of them had a couple of moves they could start with, and Warren set up the ones he preferred. Jenkins was going to move in if Warren was distracted by a move from Bender, or if Warren attacked him first, he’d block, sweep the legs, and take him to the floor. Warren helped him decide by looking away at my dad, keeping Bender in his view to hold him in check. It was done to draw Jenkins into moving.”
“How did he get them to think of what he needed to know?”
“Ah, he didn’t. He was too nervous to think of that. My dad helped by suggesting he shake hands to start, and he told Warren to think of what he would do first. Both the other men had their minds tricked into focusing on exactly what dad knew Warren needed to know. Naturally, they didn’t know to block their thoughts.”
Longstreet looked pointedly at the general and the colonel in turn. Ethan’s description matched what they had just watched several times (again) for Nabarone’s benefit.
Taking the initiative, Longstreet started walking towards Ethan, his right hand extended. “Tell me what I’m thinking, but wait until I shake with Carson and then ask you both to speak, to see if you agree.”
Their hands locked in a firm grip, and they stood facing each other a moment. Ethan looked puzzled. Longstreet released his hand and turned to Carson for a handshake.
Pulling back his hand after a couple of seconds, he said, “Both of you together, what was I thinking?”
They spoke over each other, but it was easy to understand them. They didn’t agree.
From Ethan it was, “Nothing, you must have been shielding.”
Simultaneously, Carson said, “You want to leave with us.”
Trakenburg blurted, “Which one is right, Captain?”
Longstreet smiled. “They both are, Colonel. Captain Mirikami, I’d like to know the answer to the request I passed to Carson.”
Mirikami had the answer ready, which they had decided on just fifteen minutes earlier. “We don’t want a virtual prisoner at home, who might long to return to Human Space, and there succumb to pressure to be welcomed back by revealing our location. It isn’t really a fear of the Planetary Union that concerns us so much, not while they need us anyway. It’s the leaks about us, which might reach the Krall.” Before Mirikami could continue, Longstreet jumped in, proving he’d considered exactly this point.
He spoke in a rush. “I’ll accept the clone mods you four have, making sure I have as much legal risk as Sarge here if I wanted to return.” Then he added his real motivation. “And then I can go with you on raids against Krall planets.”
Sarge gave him a sour look, and a pretend accusation. “If you have a Booster Suit and my genetic mods, you’ll beat me at arm wrestling, you cheater.”
Mirikami looked sternly at his court jester apprentice, then at Longstreet. “Captain, before you cut me off, I was about to make an alternative offer.” He let him dangle a moment.
“To give you, at a minimum, the clone mods and then accept you as a citizen of our world. The Booster Suit might not be yours to take.” He looked at Trakenburg.
The jester’s apprentice simply couldn’t hold his tongue. “You’d be immigrant New Citizen number two. I’m number one.”
For the first time in weeks, Trakenburg felt a lessening of the tension that had been building. “Your only condition for accepting joint operations with Special Operations, to trust us, is if our people accept your SG genetic modifications.
To physically become what only our surgery, implants, and these damned chaffing exomuscle suits gave us?” Even when feeling relieved, the starch and skepticism that was a natural part of his personality showed.
Mirikami relaxed his stern look. “I have one other concession I need from you, Colonel.”
Trakenburg thought, I KNEW that smart little shit had something else up his sleeve. It had been too easy. Prepared for the worst he asked roughly, “What is it?”
It was worse than he feared.
“Among only the older men in this room, in friendly conversations, might you allow us to call you Frances?”
He turned red in the face. “You picked my mind! Tapped it, whatever you call it. It’s Frank on any records you can find.”
Mirikami calmly looked at Nabarone. “Henry, care to explain?”
With a big charming smile, he did. “Sure. As I previously told you, Thad, Dillon, and Sarge…, oh excuse me, I mean Garland. The colonel’s real first name is Frances, not Frank. Generals have a deeper reach into sealed archives than colonels do. And he confirmed the accuracy of my digging just now.”
“I will not answer to that,” insisted the former Frances Trakenburg.
Mirikami offered a half bow. “Then to offer you a concession in return, I modify my request to call you Frank. Is that acceptable, Frank?”
“Fine.” He answered with a snap to his voice and a glance over to Longstreet, which suggested the captain had better use discretion.
Sarge, still playing jester, added, “At least your real name isn’t a Christmas tree decoration. What are you so sensitive about anyway? At least your last name wasn’t changed to Trakenburgfem.”
A female dominated society of three hundred years ago largely blamed men for the Clone Wars and the Gene War. They had frequently used dual-purpose genderless first names for the sons that were born from the male survivor breeders after the Collapse. Others had changed family names, such as Johnson to Johnfem, or added other feminine sounding prefixes or suffixes.
When laws changed to grant men greater rights a hundred years ago, they regained the right to change birth given names when they reached twenty-one, which was the age they could register their names to vote. That didn’t prevent mothers, who retained contractual naming rights on their children, from using the feminine forms of names for their sons and daughters. Some of those rebellious, freedom-seeking sons changed their names when they turned twenty-one. It appeared Frances had been one of those, who apparently was sensitive to the teasing other boys with more “manly” sounding names had heaped on him.
Koban: Rise of the Kobani Page 40