by S. H. Jucha
“That was a simple game?” Tomas asked.
“No, Ser Monti, that game was one of the later iterations. As the New Terrans mastered one game level, they simply invented a more complex one for their entertainment. In the beginning, we—I refer to Méridiens—helped them learn. Then the New Terrans became quite proficient, and the crew formed mixed teams to make the games more challenging. After a while, it became quite difficult for either team to win.”
The concept of a team was new to Tomas. Méridiens didn’t have formal sports. They strove for excellence in individual pursuits. “How are teams chosen?” he asked.
“Our referee balances the teams based on achieved implant scores.” When Terese saw the confusion on Tomas’s face, she said, “The Admiral created an algorithm for Julien to employ in scoring the crew based on their daily implant use. Their scores rank their skill levels, which the referee uses to balance the teams. Then the referee monitors the game and scores the winner.”
“Who’s the referee?” Tomas asked.
“Julien,” Terese replied.
“Fascinating, Ser. I’d love to play this game,” Tomas said.
“And I like a man who likes to play,” Terese returned, savoring the knowing smile that spread across Tomas’s face.
“I look forward to it, Ser Lechaux,” Tomas said formally, giving Terese a gentle nod of his head. “Another question, if you will indulge me. The Admiral appears to be quite formidable where it concerns his implant. Where does he rank on your list?” Tomas found himself the target of Terese’s laughter once more, but he discovered he was growing fond of the sound.
“The Admiral isn’t on the list, Ser,” Terese explained. “Julien said we would need to employ a logarithmic scale to compare us to the Admiral.”
“By us, you mean…?”
“All of us … New Terran and Méridien.”
“How is that possible?” Tomas wondered.
“According to Julien, the Admiral was an extraordinary mathematician in his own world before he gained his implants.”
“Pardon me,” Tomas said, interrupting Terese. “You said ‘implants,’ as in plural. I understand the Admiral received his first implant less than half a cycle ago.”
“That’s correct, Ser,” Terese said. “The Admiral came to me when he exceeded the number of simultaneous applications that could run at one time on his single implant. The most unnerving question he asked me was: ‘How many implants can a person safely embed?’ I told him that I could give him a second implant, which I did, but a Méridien implant engineer would be required for a third implant. Personally I believe the Admiral is an alien in disguise.”
While Terese was chuckling over her jest, she held up a finger to silence Tomas while she received a comm. When the call ended, she tucked her hand into the crook of Tomas’s arm, as she had seen Alex and Renée do, and led Tomas through the crowd still surrounding the New Terrans.
Tomas had lost his family when he was declared an Independent, and Angelina’s outrage over her father’s banishment soon became the cause of her joining him. During Tomas’s eighteen years of confinement to the colony, he had never formed another partnership. Today, though, as Terese led him toward the Admiral, he found strolling arm in arm with her to be quite pleasant and companionable.
“Are we ready, Ser Monti?” asked Alex as Tomas and Terese approached.
“We’re ready, Admiral,” Tomas returned and gestured him toward the distant terminal building.
Alex signaled Renée, Pia, Terese, and the twins, Alain and Étienne, that they were following Tomas, and his people fell in behind him.
Inside the terminal building, Tomas led them to a large conference room where a group of people, both adults and children, had gathered. As the two groups merged and began the Méridien tradition of exchanging bio-IDs, first Pia, then Terese hurried across the room. The targets of the two women had crossed their arms and bowed their heads in greeting, but Pia and Terese would have none of it. Pia threw her arms around a middle-aged woman in Independent-style dress, vibrant colors swirling in a cloud of cloth that draped her body. Terese fiercely hugged a middle-aged man, trapping the astonished Libran with his arms crossed in front of himself. Both Pia and Terese were crying tears of joy.
Pia turned to the room. “I am pleased beyond measure to introduce you to my niece, Sophie Sabine,” she said with her arm around the woman’s waist.
Terese added, “And I have the honor of introducing my brother, Marcel Lechaux.”
What ensued was a rapid fire exchange of history and present circumstances, revealing that Pia’s niece was a grandmother. Sophie’s partner was present, as was her son with his wife and two daughters. Marcel was also accompanied by his partner and son.
When the excitement died down and the comms slowed, Pia and Terese turned to eye Alex, who stood against the far wall wearing a lopsided grin and offering them a small shrug of his shoulders.
Tomas was intrigued by the transformation in the Admiral’s demeanor. The larger-than-life Admiral, Co-Leader of the Military House, commander of ships of war, had been transformed into an unassuming young man. Tomas watched Pia and Terese render House de Guirnon’s endearment to their Admiral, the traditional buss to both cheeks, with kisses that were soft, tender, lingering. Then together, both women threw their arms around him and hugged him tightly. Tomas saw tears cloud the Admiral’s eyes. The man appeared not to care whether it was or wasn’t a proper display for a House Leader. Tomas looked around the room to see how the Admiral’s people were reacting to their Leader’s emotional display and discovered they were beaming at him. Smiles threatened to reach their ears.
When Tomas had received Julien’s request to locate some of the Méridien crew’s people and assemble them at the terminal, he’d been puzzled. He presumed it was for the purpose of updating families of passengers lost during the Rêveur’s attack. However, updates of this sort were usually managed via comm notices, as was common for any Méridien House. Now Tomas realized the request had come from the Admiral, not Julien. The New Terran Leader cared so much for his people, acquaintances he had just made, that he had prepared this personal surprise for them. It was a telling moment for Tomas. I might have found people to teach me how to be truly independent, he thought.
On a simpler note, Tomas liked this hug he saw so freely given by the Admiral’s people, which included his Méridiens. He had queried Terese on the custom, and she had explained it was how the New Terrans expressed happiness, appreciation, and many other emotions, all positive and administered even in public. Terese told him she had often administered hugs for therapeutic reasons … a statement he was still trying to understand.
* * *
During the reunion, Alex received a query from Captain Bonnard.
Tomas didn’t hesitate at all. Relishing the immediacy with which the Admiral moved in the storm he seemed
to create around him, Tomas queried the terminal manager, requesting assistance. Terminal personnel came to his aid, setting up tables and chairs in the lobby.
Alex and Andrea decided to organize the tables by function—engineering and techs, pilots, medical specialists, navigation and comm specialists, and a final table for those who didn’t fall into any of the other categories. Alex and Renée chose to manage this last table.
The families of Pia and Terese happily provided assistance. They greeted the volunteers at the terminal’s lobby entrance, querying their bio-ID and directing them to the appropriate table.
Alex instructed his crew to interview the applicants, categorize them, and grade them for eligibility. His directions included instructing the applicants that they would be contacted within two days. The Rêveur’s crew interviewed the volunteers for hours, and the engineering-tech table was the last to finish.
Alex and Renée were surprised and pleased that in addition to the odd assortment of individuals, who were directed to their table, they received several fabrication plant operators. The message was the same from each operator. Their machines were either shut down or nearly idle as their final products were completed or already in transit to the colony ships, the entire planet’s efforts shifting entirely to completing their giant ships, Freedom and Unser Menschen, the latter of which translated as Our People. The facility operators were pleased to offer their machines and workers, but were apologetic about the lack of raw materials. For that, they recommended Alex and Renée request Leader Monti organize a meeting with the ore refinery operators, who they said were idle as well.
Alex had learned from Cordelia and Z of the several large metal-dense asteroids in a geo-stationary orbit 260K km out from Libre. Ore reclamation was shut down and the workers had joined the city-ships’ manufacturing and construction phases. It appeared to Alex that the Independents were wearing as many hats as each of them could manage. Then again, who would want to be responsible for the late launches of their only escape vehicles if the enemy arrived early?
After the interview of the last volunteer, Alex sent his request to Tomas to organize a meeting of the mining operators. He was about to order his crew back to their ships when a sudden thought halted him in his tracks.
Renée finished her comm to Andrea and turned to find Alex staring into space, his body utterly still. “Alex, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“We have a major problem, Renée.”
“Which is…?” she asked.
“Renée, you’ve left your House, and my New Terran creds have no value here. We don’t have access to any funds. Black space! We can’t purchase the material, the labor, or the services of a crew from these people.”
Renée was careful not to laugh, which had been her first reaction.
“Yes, I see what you mean, Alex. Perhaps we should ask for some advice before we assume that the problem is insurmountable.”
Renée sent a priority query, and Andrea, Pia, Terese, and Tomas hurried to join them. “The Admiral has a dilemma that requires our immediate attention,” Renée said, struggling to control her expression in the face of the deadly serious looks her audience was paying their Admiral. “We’re broke,” she said, using the New Terran term, and waited. Her audience looked at her in confusion.
“If you mean we’re without funds, well, of course we are,” Terese replied.
“And…?” added Pia, not comprehending the problem.
“We can’t pay for anything—the materials, the labor, the crew,” Alex replied.
Renée watched confusion make its round again.
Then the light dawned in Pia’s eyes. It was replaced by sympathy as she addressed Alex. “Yes, Admiral, we’re broke, as you say. Did you think it mattered to anyone?”
“We can’t ask these people to donate everything to us, to work for free,” Alex objected.
“My pardon, Admiral, did you expect to pay us?” asked Tomas. “Why would you think that?”
“Why wouldn’t we think that?” replied Alex, now having his turn at the wheel of confusion.
While Alex’s Méridiens searched for a way to explain to him what was transpiring, Tomas called to a nearby engineer who had interviewed for a position. As the man came to his side, Tomas obtained his bio-ID. He was imminently qualified as a master systems engineer. “Admiral, this is Bertram Coulter, an engineer who volunteered to provide his services. Bertram, we would like your help with an important question, if you would?”
“Yes, Leader, however I may be of assistance,” Bertram replied.
“The Admiral would like to know how much your services will cost, Ser,” Tomas asked.
“Why would the Admiral expect to pay us?” Bertram asked, looking first at Tomas, then Alex. “Admiral, you came light-years from your home to help us. You fought our enemy for us, and you lost one of your own when you did so. We are humbled by your actions. It’s an honor to be of service to you in any manner we are able. No one would expect to be paid. It’s we who owe you.”
Alex looked around at those surrounding him, sympathetic expressions on their faces. He settled on Andrea. “But our Méridiens …” he began.
“Admiral,” Terese replied instead. “I don’t know why you’d think it’s any different for us. We knew the day we declared as Independents that all our assets were forfeited. We joined House Alexander for one reason: to defend mankind.” She glanced at Renée, and they shared a quick grin.
“Admiral, allow me to explain our circumstances,” Tomas began. “Librans have always suffered under economic constraints. We have no manner in which to expand our enterprises. Our economy is stagnant. We created an Exchange to trade credits for our work. But essentially we are a barter society, caring for one another as needed. Those ships above you were built with House Bergfalk funds. I understand that Leader Stroheim has spent every last House credit to ensure our escape. He felt it was his duty when the Confederation Council chose not to provide any plan for our transportation off planet if the aliens came our way.”
Alex revised his estimate of Leader Stroheim. Despite Eric’s prickly exterior, he was an honorable man. Whether Eric was providing for the Independents because he truly cared for them or whether he felt obliged to do so as his duty, it didn’t matter. The House Bergfalk Leader, who had been tasked with maintaining the colony, had stuck by the Independents when their society had abandoned them.
“Leader Stroheim’s funds bought the sophisticated technology and his ships provided the transport,” Tomas continued. “We donated our local industry and labor. And it’s our combined efforts that are building the city-ships. Essentially we’re all volunteers working to build two gigantic escape pods. And if the messages I’ve received today are any indication, there are many more people who were not here today but who also wish to help you in any manner they are able.”
“Thank you all,” Renée said. “I believe the Admiral was about to order his crew to lift off to return to the Rêveur.” Renée locked eyes with Andrea, who took the hint and began ordering the crew back to their ships. Renée nodded politely to Tomas and Bertram as she took Alex’s arm and guided him toward the terminal exit.
The engineer watched the Admiral leave. He was concerned by the perplexed expression that the New Terran wore. “Did I say something that displeased the Admiral?” Bertram asked his Leader.
“No, Bertram,” Tomas replied, “I believe your answer was perfect. It’s just that we are different people and have much to learn about one another, and I, for one, look forward to it.” He smiled at the engineer and gently patted the man’s shoulder.
On the way out of the terminal, Alex turned to Pia and Terese. “I don’t expect to see you two for three days. You’re on family leave. Get going.” It earned Alex another round of hugs before the two Méridien women hurried off to join their families.
After liftoff, Alex sat contemplating their extraordinary circumstances. On New Terra, every item had a price and you paid that price or you did without. Now those rules, at this moment in time and here on Libre, had been set aside by circumstances. His Méridien crew was working for free and so were the Independents and House Bergfalk personnel. Alex had an epiphany on the extent of their isolation. If we can’t make it or get it donated, then we’ll have to take it or we’ll have to do without until we return to New Terra¸ Alex thought and was reminded of his sister’s fictional vids of old Terran pirates.
-7-
In the House suite the next day, Alex met with Renée and his key officers to lay out his plans. He had come to terms with the fact that he had an entire population willing to commit their resources to his needs, gratis … so long as their progress on their city-ships was not impeded. In exchange for their services, Alex vowed he’d help them complete their escape pods, as Tomas had referred to their city-ships, any way he could.
“We’re going to pursue two goals at once,” Alex announced to his officers, “a short-term one and a long-term one. The long-term goal will involve the implementation and successful completion of a series of simultaneous projects. On the manufacturing side, we must organize the miners and process more refined ore from their asteroids. The fabrication facilities have to be set up to produce the parts we need, and that will also involve the transport planetside of the GEN-2 and GEN-3 machines we have in storage. We’ll need two specialized locations—one for the growth of our fighter’s crystals, presumably they have such a facility, and a place to assemble and run preflight checks on the fighters.
“We’ll also need a scaled-down Barren Island operation for a training school. On the recruitment side, we’ll need flight crew, pilots, and support staff for the freighter, our new carrier. Finally, we must convert that freighter into an operational carrier. Hopefully the freighter crew will remain with us, but since they are House Bergfalk personnel, I don’t think we can count on it.