“I know once the Tau Cetins retrieve the Codex, you’re going to have to explain to the Forum, to thousands of other species, why you tried to exterminate a bronze age people because you don’t like humans. And from what I know of the Forum, you don’t have many friends.” I motioned for Jase to cut communications.
“Skipper, that’s a terrible plan!” Jase said.
“Can the Tau Cetins really do that?” Marie asked incredulously.
I shrugged. “Who the hell knows what they can do. The Matarons sure don’t and that’s all that matters.”
“They’re hailing us again,” Jase said.
I relaxed into my acceleration couch, ignoring their hail, studying the plating in the ceiling absently. “We really need to get the atmo scrubbers replaced. Remind me next time we’re in Hades City.”
“Are you going to answer them?” Marie asked anxiously as the star loomed before us.
“Yeah, but not the way they want,” I said, switching my console to weapons. I winked at Jase, then opened the outer doors and fired the drone at the star. A point of brilliant white light accelerated away from the ship at over two hundred gravities. The drone’s shielding, designed to withstand short range defensive fire as it approached its target, would get closer to the surface of the star than the Lining ever could. “OK, let’s hear what the snakeheads have to say now.”
The flight deck’s comm system erupted with the Mataron Commander’s synthesized voice. “What have you done, human?”
“If you want the Codex, go get it. It’s got a homing beacon on it to make it easy to find. Easy for you, easier for the Tau Cetins. I’m done talking.” I motioned to Jase to terminate the link, then spun the Lining to face away from the star. Behind us, the big Mataron cruiser rolled out from behind us and dived after the drone.
Jase and Marie both gave me astonished looks.
“Will they catch it?” Jase asked.
“Who cares! I just hope for their sake that fancy ass shield can handle the heat down there.” The spacetime distorters began charging, indicating the Matarons had stopped jamming us. “Now let’s get the hell out of here while we can still fly!”
I caught one last glimpse of the Mataron ship streaking down through the chromosphere’s superheated orange plasma clouds then our screen went blank.
“Punch it,” Jase said, confirming our surviving sensors were all safely tucked away.
I ordered the autonav to execute another micro-bubble, then for several seconds, we crawled away from the star at sublight velocity. When the bubble dropped and we could see again, we found Vintari no longer lay ahead of us, but floated like a great seething wall of gas to port.
“Any sign of the snakeheads?” I asked.
“No,” Jase replied, studying his sensors. “The star’s masking them.”
“You know,” Marie said, leaning forward, “technically, they’re only distantly related to snakes.”
“Yeah, but snakehead says it all.”
I rolled the ship and began decelerating. We might have got away with a couple of sublight blinks, but we couldn’t cruise safely until Izin’s hull crawlers repaired some of the damage we’d taken breaking away from the Soberano. While Izin patched the hull, we’d kill our flat space velocity so there’d be no surprises when we unbubbled next time.
I rubbed my throbbing head, realizing I was tired and hungry. “So, what’s for lunch?”
* * * *
Two hours later we were all in engineering watching one of Izin’s crawlers tip toeing around the ragged hole in the hull where the port side airlock had once been. Almost ten percent of the Lining’s pressurized interior volume was now exposed to vacuum, although the flight critical sections were undamaged.
“Lucky those blinks didn’t tear us apart!” Jase said.
“We didn’t bubble long enough, or travel anywhere near fast enough, for the quantum forces to build up,” Izin said. “A catastrophic failure would have required several seconds of superluminal flight.”
“How long before we can get out of here?” I asked.
“It will take several days to install replacements for the two distorters we lost near the airlock and –” Izin suddenly froze.
We watched him for a few seconds before I stepped toward him and looked curiously into his unblinking eyes. “Izin, are you OK?”
“The ship’s engines have stopped.” He motioned meaningfully to the biosonar lobe bulging from his forehead. It gave him a sensitivity to the ship’s vibration Homo sapiens could never fully comprehend.
I glanced at the energy and propulsion displays. They indicated everything was functioning normally. If there’d been a mechanical failure, a warning alarm would have sounded. “Looks OK to me.”
“I assure you, Captain, we are no longer decelerating.” Izin glanced at the other data displays. “In fact, we’re in a stable orbit.”
I didn’t doubt his judgment, but it should have been fifteen hours before we were slow enough to enter any kind of orbit.
“Around what?” Marie asked.
Izin listened for a moment longer, studying screens filled with engineering numbers. “Ambient spacetime curvature indicates a planet, and that could only be possible if we were no longer in control of the ship.”
“It’s the Matarons!” Marie exclaimed. “They’ve come back.”
While Izin began wading through engineering diagnostics, we ran to the flight deck. I expected to see the Mataron cruiser floating alongside us, preparing to exact retribution for my stunt with the drone, but when we entered the flight deck the view screen was filled with the image of long, sleek silver dart. Its glistening hull reflected starlight with mirror-like efficiency and a ghost-like shimmer enveloped it from bow to stern.
“That’s not Mataron!” Jase said as we climbed into our acceleration couches, “Is it?”
“No, it isn’t,” I said, activating the intercom. “Izin, forget your diagnostics. You won’t find anything.”
“I agree, Captain,” Izin replied. “None of our monitoring systems are giving correct readings.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the ship,” I said, gazing at the view screen. To my knowledge, the EIS had exactly four images of such ships. All had been taken by the Earth Ambassador who’d been transported halfway across the galaxy in one about four hundred and fifty years ago to the Forum meeting that had ratified ending the Embargo.
“You know what it is?” Marie asked.
“It’s a Tau Ceti Arbiter.” Few humans had ever seen such ships because when the Tau Cetins came to Earth, they did so in small, deliberately unimposing diplomatic craft so as not to unsettle us. “It’s the most powerful warship in this part of the galaxy.” One like it had stopped the entire Mataron Fleet from destroying Earth two thousand years ago – without firing a shot.
“They sure got here fast!” Jase said.
Somehow, the Tau Cetins had discovered one of Vintari II’s moons had been destroyed and sent an Arbiter to investigate in just a few hours. The odds of such a ship being near the this system were small, which meant it had come a long way, very fast.
Vintari II was visible below the Arbiter. Its upper atmosphere glowed with orange light as vaporized rock from the destroyed moon continued to burn up in its atmosphere. Dirty gray clouds were forming close to the surface and beginning to spread across the planet.
“I’m getting nothing from the Arbiter,” Jase said as he tried to detect energy readings from the Tau Ceti ship, “but there’s a big reading behind us. Guess who!”
He reoriented the optical feed to reveal the Mataron cruiser floating ten clicks away. Its hull was scored black as if a giant plasma torch had blasted it. The edges of the ridges running along its hull from bow to stern had melted and its weapon blisters now looked like burnt out craters laced with melted metal.
“They don’t look so good,” I said with some satisfaction. Clearly, their shield wasn’t quite as resistant to star heat as it at first appeared.
“I wonder if the
y got the Codex back?” Marie said.
The image of the Mataron ship vanished as the Tau Cetins took control of our view screen. A pale skinned, vaguely humanoid face appeared. The Tau Cetin’s eyes were green, horizontal almonds set lower than a human’s on a face half again as wide. A shallow central ridge of a nose divided the face above a small mouth and a weak, slightly pointed chin. The TC had no hair of any kind, although his skin was slightly dappled, a natural camouflage inherited from the shadowy forests his species had evolved in hundreds of millions of years ago. He wore a dark green jacket that lacked a collar and was decorated with vertical silver insignia running down the center of his chest. Tau Cetins were bipedal and almost as tall as humans, although they weren’t mammals. Earth xenobiologists classified them as oviparous ratites, a fancy way of calling them large flightless, egg laying birds, but such analogies scarcely made sense for such an advanced species.
The Tau Cetin’s tiny mouth made small, rapid movements, which came through into the flight deck perfectly translated. “I am Siyarn. I speak for the Forum to preserve order.”
My diplomatic training was limited, but I knew that was a formal introduction telling me he was an Observer, responsible for maintaining the rule of law throughout the Galaxy. That made him the Big Cheese in the Orion Arm.
“My name is Sirius Kade. I’m captain of this ship.”
I could have claimed to be an Earth Ambassador, knowing the EIS would confirm it later, but that would have made my actions authorized acts, increasing any penalty against Earth. If Siyarn’s judgment went against us, I’d already decided to declare myself a renegade, hoping to reduce whatever punitive measures were to be imposed against mankind.
“The Mataron Commander claims your entry into this restricted system is a violation of the Access Treaty.”
“About that,” I said. “We can explain-”
“As the authorized Observer for this Protectorate, I am required to conduct an investigation. If I find you have committed a treaty violation, because your species has only probationary status, a Forum Inquisitorial will be conducted at which time your explanation will be heard.”
“An inquisitorial? Where would that be?”
“The next Forum Session will be held at Anrak Orn in ten days.”
I was afraid of that. I’d never heard of Anrak Orn. “And where is that?”
“Sixty one thousand light years from here.”
“That’s kind of a problem for us. It would take,” I did a quick calculation in my head, “forty five years for us to get there.” That’s if I knew where it was!
“If an Inquisitorial is convened, we will transport all those required to provide evidence to the Session.”
The image of the Tau Ceti Observer was replaced by our own sensor feed of the damaged Mataron cruiser.
“Those lying freaks over there are framing us.” Jase declared. “We should lodge a complaint. We can do that, right?”
“Yeah.” I pointed to the screen. “With him. He’s the guy.”
“Oh,” Jase said, deflated.
I reoriented the view screen so the TC Arbiter and the Mataron armored cruiser were both visible above Vintari II. The planet was now suffering the most extreme upper atmosphere event it had experienced in several billion years, although fortunately there was no impact on the surface.
“We are in a restricted system,” Marie said ominously. “Technically, we broke the rules.”
A stream of tiny brilliant red points of light emerged from the Arbiter and streaked out across the Vintari System. Some dropped towards the planet, others found the trajectory the Silver Lining had followed, some moved off into the more remote corners of the system while a few passed outside the Vintari System altogether.
“I guess we’re going to find out how advanced the TCs really are,” I said. I’d never seen their technology before, but they were obviously piecing together what had happened. Several of the TC snoopers skimmed the Mataron ship’s hull while a couple gave us the once over.
“If they decide we screwed up,” Jase said, “Will they shut us down, like before?”
“That’s the Mataron plan,” I said.
“But we saved the damned planet!” Jase exploded.
“And destroyed its moon.” Marie added soberly. “And probably scared two hundred and eighty million people half to death!”
Presently, the red points of light came streaming back to the Arbiter.
“Now what are they doing?” Jase demanded.
I tapped my console impatiently. “Working out who’s guilty.”
Marie leaned forward. “They’re supposed to be fair.”
“They don’t do favors,” I said, “and they don’t have much evidence to go on. The Matarons saw to that.”
Siyarn appeared on the left side of our view screen and an image of the Mataron Commander appeared on the right. The Mataron seemed identical to the two snake heads we’d encountered on the Soberano. He wore an ornate black uniform with a chest scabbard containing a Q-blade and a thin black circlet around the top of his head marking him as a high ranking member of the Black Sauria.
“I demand you execute the Violation Provisions!” The Mataron Commander declared. “The law is clear!”
“Indeed it is,” Siyarn agreed, “however there are discrepancies between our analysis and your explanation.”
My hopes began to rise.
“What discrepancies? A human ship deliberately destroyed one of the moons of Vintari II, affecting the primitives on the planet. It is a clear violation of the rights of the Vintari II civilization. Under the First Principle, the humans must be held responsible.”
“They will be judged responsible for their actions,” Siyarn agreed. “As will you.”
“Me?” The Mataron Commander baulked. “There is nothing preventing us from being here.”
“That is true.”
“We are conducting long range, non invasive cultural studies of the primitives on Vintari II, as is our right.”
“Does the Mataron Supremacy typically conduct these cultural studies from within the photosphere of a star?” Siyarn asked.
Jase burst out laughing, then I silenced him with a look.
“We had engine trouble,” the Mataron said.
“Is that why your ship remained inactive while the two human ships approached the planet?”
“We didn’t know they were here. Our sensors were affected by the star’s plasma wind.”
“Your level of technology is resistant to such interference. Even if your sensors were disrupted, we have detected the presence of a small Mataron craft interacting with the human ships. Why did you send such a craft?”
“We ordered the humans to withdraw. They ignored us!”
“How did you know to issue such an instruction, when your malfunctioning sensors could not detect the human ships?”
“We didn’t know what we were detecting. It was only after our reconnaissance ship identified them that we ordered them to withdraw.”
Siyarn listened impassively. Like all aliens, if he had facial expressions, I couldn’t read them. “Once you identified the two human ships, you still did not act to protect Vintari II.”
“We tried, but the humans killed two of my crew! They are murderers and fanatics. We detected their transmissions. Listen to them yourself. They prove the human intentions.”
“We detected the transmissions, however, irregularities in the signal indicate a synthetic rather than a biological source.”
The Mataron ignored Siyarn’s observation. “The very fact the humans are here proves their guilt!”
“That is one interpretation.”
“The human ships attacked Vintari II! There is no other interpretation.”
“There is the Ninth Principle.”
“That does not apply!”
“It applies!” I said, daring to interrupt for the first time.
“Do not listen to that murderer!” The Mataron Commander demanded.
&
nbsp; Siyarn paused a moment, perhaps receiving advice or data. “The human ship known as the Silver Lining may have entered this system to preserve life. The Preservation Principle always permits an action to save life, irrespective of other Treaty restrictions – even for probationary signatories.”
“That is not what happened!”
“Yes it is!” I said. “We tried to save the planet from them!”
The Mataron gestured emphatically with his hands, but no sound came through.
“What’s happening?” Marie whispered.
“Siyarn just pulled the plug on the snakeheads,” I said.
When the Mataron stopped talking, Siyarn said, “I find discrepancies between the physical evidence we have gathered and the testimony offered by the Mataron Supremacy. While I reserve my right to Summation for a later date, all parties should understand that if we proceed to an Inquisitorial Session, the evidence I would present to the Forum will be conclusive.”
He knows! He wouldn’t say what he had, but he’d figured it out! I wanted to leap out of my couch and demand a hearing, but the risks of the decision still going against us made me hesitate.
The Mataron Commander stiffened, sensing a veiled threat, but said nothing.
“Our preliminary analysis indicates,” Siyarn continued, “the humans of Earth would be justified in invoking the Preservation Principle, nullifying other Access Treaty conditions which may have been technically violated. Does the Mataron Supremacy wish to challenge my initial findings and have me present a Summation to the Forum Session on Anrak Orn?”
The Mataron hesitated. He had no idea what physical evidence the Tau Cetins had found. Could it possibly implicate the Matarons in a plot to destroy a helpless bronze age civilization?
“I request that the Tau Ceti evidence be presented at Anrak Orn,” I cut in, “along with additional evidence in my possession.”
“He cannot make such a request!” The reptillian Commander snapped. “Humans have no standing in the Forum.”
“That is true, for now,” Siyarn conceded. “However, should an Inquisitorial be convened, I will fully and impartially examine any evidence Captain Kade possesses and if I find it relevant, I will present it as part of my Summation.”
Mapped Space 1: The Antaran Codex Page 30