The Veritian Derelict (Junkyard Dogs)

by Nolte, Phillip

  The personnel from the Istanbul's cutter efficiently loaded up a couple of travel modules containing spacesuits and a few larger equipment items belonging to the two Federation officers, before assisting them with their personal gear and motioning them onboard the small craft. Harvick and Carlisle took seats next to one another for the fifteen-minute hop out to the Istanbul.

  "I have been informed, Ensign Carlisle," said Harvick. "That you have not had the benefit of any formal diplomatic training?"

  "...Miltary historian...new degree...ah...No, Lieutenant, I haven't," she replied. The tall Lieutenant proved his diplomatic credentials and instincts immediately by his -- what else -- diplomatic approach to the Ambassador's choice for liaison.

  "That is, of course, most unfortunate for you in your current assignment. While I can certainly believe that the Ambassador and his wife have their own very good reasons for requesting your services, I think it best that you follow my lead on matters concerning diplomats. There are many fine nuances to the art and science of diplomacy and, believe me, it is ridiculously easy to commit a faux pas. Indeed, Kingdoms have been lost due to the utterance of a single careless phrase." He nodded sagely. "Yes, I think it best that you spend the bulk of your time, especially in the early stages of this mission, observing rather than doing. Our mission is of utmost importance and we simply must take every precaution to ensure its success. I think you will find me to be a very reasonable sort and if you merely follow these simple guidelines, Ensign, you and I will get along fine."

  Carlisle, somewhat stunned by the honey-coated torrent of words, simply nodded.

  ***

  After the outright rude or, at best, indifferent fashion in which she had been greeted by most of the Naval personnel onboard the Santana Nexus Station, Carlisle's reunion with Ambassador Saladin and his wife couldn't have provided a starker contrast. The Ambassador was just as she remembered him, tall, athletic and immaculately dressed. He was also immaculately groomed with short, neatly-combed black hair and a pencil-thin mustache. His wife, standing next to him, was a woman of exotic and exceptional beauty. Her sleek shoulder-length black hair was classically styled, with the ends curved slightly inward and bangs straight-cut across her forehead. Her hair framed the perfect, light-olive skin of her oval face. The Ambassador, his wife and all six of the guards present appeared to be of Old Earth Middle East origin.

  The two dignitaries and Lieutenant Harvick greeted one another stiffly and formally, following the stuffy, time-worn diplomatic protocols required by the occasion to the letter. "Ambassador Saladin, Lady Sondia," said Harvick, "It is a distinct pleasure to meet you and your most gracious wife, Excellency. It is my hope and my trust that our interactions here will be most fruitful." He then executed the short bow dictated by Meridian tradition before extending his hand to the Ambassador in the Federation manner. The Ambassador and his wife smoothly performed the mandatory responses.

  Then it was Carlisle's turn. The Ambassador, his demeanor completely changed, spoke warmly to the ensign, his chiseled features breaking into a smile as he did so. "Ensign Carlisle," he said, as he shook hands with her, "how wonderful to see you again!"

  Lady Sondia went a giant step further, she embraced the Ensign and called her by her first name.

  "Tamara," she exclaimed. "You look wonderful! We heard that you had finished your Doctorate. Congratulations!" She looked meaningfully at her husband. "Come, let us leave these two men to their talk. We have just enough time to get you changed into something decent." Carlisle couldn't help but see the look of shocked horror that swept across Harvick's face, the first time she had seen any ripple in his polished façade. The look was there but only for the briefest flicker. Sondia wisked the Ensign away towards their personal chambers. As soon as they were out of earshot, Sondia's manner became conspiratorial.

  "Who is this Lieutenant Harvick," she asked.

  "...Admiral's choice...trained diplomat...He was Admiral Kingston's choice for this position. She was...ah...less than pleased with me."

  "The Admiral can be a meddling old fool sometimes," said Sondia. Her look grew sincere. "It truly is good to see you! We had several reasons for wanting you for this job, your brains and your recent experience out here, your knowledge of the history of the Succession War, and last but not least, the fact that we totally trust you. This Lieutenant Harvick might have all the proper credentials, but what are his beliefs? His passions? Who does he answer to? There is so much we have to accomplish and dancing around this newcomer will do nothing but slow us down!" She stopped and shook her head, "I suppose we can accommodate him but we certainly did not ask for him!"

  "I'm sorry, Lady Sondia," said Carlisle. "To be honest, he doesn't seem to be as bad as I expected he'd be."

  "It is certainly not your fault, my dear. Besides, Saad and I have handled much worse than the likes of him in our time." They arrived at Sondia's quarters. "Come in, I was serious when I said we needed to find you something nice to wear for dinner."

  "I...I brought my dress uniform."

  "Of course you did and I knew you would but your orders do not specify that you must work in uniform. Perhaps we can take advantage of the unexpected addition of Lieutenant Harvick to make even better use of your talents."

  "What do you mean?" asked Carlisle.

  "We will be entertaining several guests this afternoon for some opening discussions and then will have a larger group this evening at dinner. We will introduce Lieutenant Harvick as the official Federation liaison. We know that some of these people are among our detractors in this part of the quadrant. We do not have to tell them that you are Federation Navy, you will be introduced as a tutor for our daughter regarding Federation affairs, an advisor whose parents are trusted friends of ours."

  "...tutor...daughter...Do you...think I can pull that off?"

  "I doubt you'll have any trouble at all my dear. But you will need to study up on some of the newcomers to our summit meeting. Let's see, you should be able to find information on the Kiwi group using your...Oh, that's right, you don't have your wrist computer any more do you?"

  "Um...they took it away back at the Academy," said Carlisle.

  "I forgot about the computer until this very moment. You must be lost without it."

  "It has been difficult."

  "A moment please," said Sondia. "I believe we can help you." She went to the intercom and pushed the call button.

  "Faiza? You should come now."

  A few moments later, Sondia's door chime sounded. The Ambassador's wife went to the door and opened it to let in a young, slender, strikingly beautiful girl. In spite of her age, which looked to be somewhere around fifteen or sixteen years old, the young lady exuded a poised and confident manner. Carlisle was stunned by the almost uncanny resemblance between the young girl and the Ambassador's wife. She could have been looking at a younger version of the Lady Sondia herself.

  "Ensign Carlisle? Our daughter Faiza."

  "...younger Sondia...daughter?...Ah... pleased to meet you, Faiza."

  The young woman smiled at Carlisle with just a hint of mischief in her eyes. "And I you, Dr. Carlisle. I have heard much about you." The Ambassador's daughter spoke perfect standard without a trace of accent. "I have something for you." She held out a small box.

  "Your new wrist computer," said Sondia. "Faiza has been getting it ready for you. You'll also note that she has one of her own. The two of you should compare notes while I find you something to wear."

  Carlisle opened the box and eagerly took out the new computer. Faiza had already activated it and, presumably, had also stuffed it with information that the Ambassador and his wife considered important for Carlisle to have. The automatic tensioning system on the wrist band clamped the device securely, but comfortably to her left wrist. The computer activated immediately, audibly announcing itself to its new owner.

  "Hartwell wrist computer activated. Loaded parameters indicate that the current user is Tamara Carlisle. Is this correct?"
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  "Yes," said Carlisle.

  "Please respond to queries necessary for final configuration..."

  "Proceed," said Carlisle. The computer then asked her a series of short questions that were necessary to configure the computer to the user's preferences for voice, virtual keyboard and other input parameters. Having used a similar computer for the last year or more, Carlisle was intimately familiar with the workings of the sophisticated device. The entire process took no more than a few minutes.

  "There is also a cranial sensor net for each of these," said Faiza, showing Carlisle a small box that contained the sensor module in question.

  "Have you tried it?" asked Carlisle.

  "Not yet. They're supposed to be absolutely amazing but it takes a couple of hours to get them calibrated."

  "I wonder how it would work in a spacesuit?"

  "Now that would be interesting. You must try it, if you can get it calibrated."

  The Ambassador's wife returned carrying two different outfits, one on each arm.

  "Stand up, my dear," said Sondia. She held one outfit on either side of the Ensign. Which of these do you like?" she asked, indicating a soft, pastel green, floor-length gown and a much more somber mauve business suit. Still uncomfortable with any sort of elegant clothing, Carlisle selected the business suit. Sondia smiled at her. "I might have known! No matter, you will wear this gown for an occasion sometime in the near future."

  "The Ambassador's private conference begins at one this afternoon, my dear. Your quarters will be the same ones you had last time you were on board. Go! Take Faiza with you and spend some time getting more familiar with your new wrist computer. When you are ready to get dressed, Shawndra will assist you. I suggest that you arrive at the conference room at twelve forty-five, fifteen minutes or so before meeting is scheduled to start."

  In Carlisle's quarters, Faiza and Carlisle used the two hours or so before the Ensign had to get dressed for the conference helping Carlisle get familiarized with her new wrist computer. Carlisle had a hard time discerning any difference between the new model and her older one, which was not an altogether bad thing. After about twenty minutes spent with Faiza skimming through a small portion of the information that had been preloaded into the computer's data banks, Carlisle retrieved the chip containing the material that had been downloaded, after considerable redacting, from her old unit. She transferred the contents of the chip to her new unit and, with some trepidation, attempted to access the material.

  She immediately noted that the situation could have been worse. Her historical information appeared to be mostly all there but there was very little information remaining on any Federation military ship type that was less than ten years old. With relief she noted that this left almost all of the material she had accumulated about the New Ceylon Reclamation Center, including the last several inventories. She nodded to herself, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all, they had left her most of the material she thought she'd want to have anyway.

  She had just begun looking over some of the unfamiliar material that the Meridians had added, including an unexpected section outlining the specifications of the Istanbul, as well as many modern units currently in use by Islamic navies from all over the Quadrant, when Faiza pulled her out of her reverie.

  "Ensign Carlisle? You've used up about ten minutes of the time you need to get ready for the conference."

  With a sigh, Carlisle prepared to close down the displays but she had one last thought." I assume you've networked these two computers?"

  "Yes, I have Ensign. You just need to say 'contact Faiza' and it will connect with my unit."

  "Good," said Carlisle."

  "Indeed." The younger woman looked thoughtful. "You do know that there is one more reason that my mother and father wanted you for this position, don't you?" she asked.

  "And what might that be?"

  "Your hand to hand combat skills," replied the young girl. "They think, and I agree with them, that we will all be safer with you nearby."

  "I...I don't know what to say..." said Carlisle, "Why me?"

  "There is much unrest in our home system, Ensign Carlisle. My parents are not completely sure of the loyalties of everyone on the crew of this ship. Perhaps there is no danger but we must both stay alert. Unlike many of our guests and even some of our crew members, they totally trust you."

  "I'll do my best," said Carlisle, blushing. "Thanks for the information."

  "Mother was going to talk to you about it. I'm surprised she hasn't already. Nice meeting you, Ensign," said the younger girl.

  "You should call me, Tamara, Faiza. I'm supposed to be undercover."

  "Sorry, I meant Tamara. See you later."

  Faiza called on the ship's intercom for Shawndra before excusing herself. The elderly woman whom Carlisle had met during her original stay on the Istanbul again remained silent the entire time they were together but she quickly and efficiently helped the ensign with her outfit and her hair. At least this time she had smiled briefly and nodded her head in approval when Carlisle was ready to depart for the conference.

  Chapter 22.

  Onboard Meridian Imperial Diplomatic Ship Istanbul, near the Santana Nexus Station, December 3, 2598.

  Shawndra led the way to the conference room although Carlisle could have easily used the schematics loaded on her new wrist computer to find it. She was surprised to discover that the room was the very same one that she and her two companions from the Scrapyard had been interrogated in after they had been rescued by the Ambassador's cutter nearly two months earlier. There was a small group of men gathered near a refreshment table. Lieutenant Harvick was there in his dress uniform but the Ambassador and his wife had not yet arrived. One of the men wore a simple but elegant business suit with a quaint addition, a very old fashioned and very flamboyant orange bowtie. He was also wearing another old-fashioned accessory, a pair of dark-rimmed eyeglasses. This elderly gentleman looked disturbingly familiar to Carlisle but, in spite of her excellent memory, she couldn't quite place him.

  Another of the men wore the black suit and stiff white collar of the Christian clergy. Yet another wore the traditional robes and headgear of an Islamic Cleric. The last of them wore the traditional garments of the Jewish faith. As the only woman in the room, presumably the only person without any strong religious convictions and a Spacer to boot, Carlisle felt more than a little out of place but had little time to do more than register the feeling when Ambassador Saladin and the Lady Sondia arrived.

  "Please, everyone," said the Ambassador. "Have a beverage if you like, then everyone take a seat. We will be setting the agenda for the full meeting tomorrow. We have much to discuss." The group members each took a chair around the table. Harvick glared accusingly at Carlisle in her civilian clothes as he took a seat directly across from her.

  Ambassador Saladin opened the meeting. "Welcome. For those of you among us who aren't yet acquainted, allow me to perform some introductions." The Ambassador started with the man directly to his right and then went around the table counterclockwise, introducing each of the attendees and listing their titles.

  "This is the Ayatollah Mahmet Barzai, he is representing the Jade consortium of the Islamic Alliance." The distinguished old man nodded his head. The Jade Consortium was one of the most powerful of the members of the Islamic Alliance, representing even more people and more planets than the Meridian group. The Ambassador moved on to the next of the officials.

  "This is His Eminence Bishop Steven Sinclair who is representing the Kiwi Group." The Kiwis were made up of five planets that had been settled by immigrants from the ancient countries of Australia and New Zealand from the Southern Hemisphere back on Old Earth. By Federation standards, they were a small group. By Santana Quadrant standards, they were one step from being a major player. Clancy Davis-Moore hailed from one of the Kiwi planets.

  "This is Rabbi Murray Geller who represents New Tel Aviv." The planet had been colonized by Jewish settlers and had almost immedia
tely become a force to be reckoned with in Quadrant economics and politics.

  "This gentleman is Dr. F. C. Talbot, of the Talbot Institute." Carlisle's eyes grew wide and she found herself in a state of mild shock. Yes, the man across the table from the Ambassador was considerably older and looked a bit more frail than the man in the many videos she had watched, but as soon as it had been pointed out to her, he was unmistakably the same Talbot that she had spent so much time studying. Maybe the eyeglasses had helped disguise him somewhat.

  "This is Lieutenant Lawrence Harvick, the Federation liaison for my mission here at the Nexus and this is Dr. Tamara Carlisle, a military historian, who is tutoring our daughter about the Federation as well as advising my wife and I on Spacer matters." To her complete surprise, Talbot gave Carlisle a knowing wink. She was pretty sure no one else had seen him do so.

  "First off, thank you all for coming. As I said, we have much to discuss over the next few days and agreeing on an agenda beforehand will make things go much more smoothly."

  Bishop Sinclair had looked very uncomfortable after Talbot was introduced. As was his style, he immediately made his feelings known. "What is this avowed atheist doing at this discussion?"

  "Dr Talbot is here at our invitation," said the Ambassador. "He represents a...a different viewpoint."

  "And who ever said that I was an atheist?" said the old man, mildly.

  "All of your anti-religious ravings for one thing," replied the Ayatollah.

  "You mustn't mistake my criticism of organized religion as criticism of God, whoever he or she might be." replied Talbot, with a smile.

  "You play with words...." began the Bishop.

  "Gentlemen, please," said the Ambassador. "We are here to have an open discussion on the rising tensions out here in the Santana Quadrant and set the agenda for our meeting to address these problems. In my opinion, we are fortunate to have Dr. Talbot here for this conference. He was passing through the Santana Nexus and will be on his way back to the Sol Terra Quadrant within the next two days. I invited Dr. Talbot because he may just ask some of the hard questions that we have been avoiding. I admit it was something of a gamble to ask him here but, bear with me, I think we may find some of his insights to be valuable."