Diverse Similarity

by Sharon Rose

  “Please consider my circumstances,” Kena said. “If you’re going to deploy craft, I must leave.”

  “Do not be alarmed,” Pernanyen said. “It is only one. They must make haste to our craft, for its power is dangerously low.”

  Another voice spoke, choppy and nearly squeaking. “Enough. End the suspense. Tell me what you found.”

  Kena gentled her voice. “I offer you my condolences. The hull was breached. There were two adult bodies.”

  Murmured voices uttered unintelligible words.

  The choppy one spoke again. “There was”—she drew a ragged breath—“a little girl with them. Did you…” Her voice broke.

  Quon shook his head and mouthed the word no.

  What point in delaying? They would soon find the empty, soiled sleep harness within a sealed chamber. “Do not grieve for her,” Kena said. “She is safe in my arms.”

  Strained breathing filled a pause. “You—you have her?”

  “Certainly. I had no way to know that anyone was coming, or how long the shield would hold. I couldn’t leave a child to die.”

  “What have you done with her?” the frantic voice demanded.

  “Done? Cleaned her as best I could, and dressed her. Also gave her a little water. There has been no time for more.”

  “What—what are you going to do?”

  Was it really necessary to be so frantic? Kena kept her voice neutral. “I think it may be time to give her a little more water.”

  “You must know that’s not what I mean!”

  “There is no cause for alarm. My only intent is to keep her safe.” Kena dribbled water into Pearl’s mouth.

  Rapid breathing came over the channel, but at least the voice tempered a little. “Is she—does she seem to be…well?”

  “I have no medical training,” Kena said, “so I can only guess. She seems weak and dehydrated, but she can still cry. She clings to me.”

  Pearl gulped at the water. When Kena attempted to turn her, Pearl abandoned the water and grasped Kena even tighter than before. Kena resigned herself to a wet nav suit and let the baby drink with one cheek pressed against her chest. The instant she pulled the water bottle from Pearl’s lips, the child began whimpering.

  “What are you doing? Why is she crying?” the choppy voice demanded.

  “She disagrees with me on how much water she should have at one time.” Kena stroked Pearl’s hair and murmured in English, “Sh-shush, little Pearl. All is well. You are loved.”

  “The communication is unclear. Repeat.”

  “I am only soothing her,” Kena said.

  “You aren’t bonding with her, are you?” The voice asked, tense again.

  “That is a Prednian word with no counterpart in any Human language. We are not natural telepaths. I doubt it’s even possible for me to bond with her. I wish I could convince you that I intend no harm to this child. What is her name?”

  “You need not know.”

  “As you wish. I’m tired of calling her child, so for the time being, I will call her by the name of Pearl.”

  “You’ve no right to name her. You have no idea what you’re doing. Do you really think you can keep her and care for her? She is mine!”

  Pernanyen murmured in the background, “Gwillenin, you must calm yourself. This will not help.”

  “What do you mean?” Kena asked. “I assumed she was the daughter of the couple in the craft.”

  “Her mother is my sister. Now that her parents are…are dead, I become her mother. You don’t understand what she—”

  “Gwillenin.” Kena waited for silence. “I have a sister. She has a little daughter, three years old. If my niece were orphaned, I would raise her as my own child. In this, we are much alike. I would gladly place Pearl in your arms, but that is much easier to say than to do. Let’s discuss how it may be accomplished.”

  The first rough voice spoke again. “If you meant that, you would already be in our hold.”

  “Your hold is what concerns me. Do you command the ship, or is there another?”

  “Where is all this peaceful intent you wanted to demonstrate? Bring us the child so we may see it.”

  Quon’s chest heaved ever faster with his carefully silent breath. He swung his head from side to side.

  “My peaceful intent,” Kena said, “is waiting for even a hint that you will return it. Permit me to be blunt. No Human has ever attacked a PitKreelaundun. The reverse is not true. I have been chased by your fighter craft. Their determination to kill me was quite clear. I will not approach until I know who holds authority and what their intent is.”

  “If so, you must have been in our space, violating the treaty. The fault is yours.”

  “Another false assumption. It was a PitKreelaundun fighter that broke the treaty. Who holds authority?”

  “So you say. You could have been mistaken.”

  “I was there. You were not. I’m an experienced navigator. I don’t make mistakes with spatial coordinates.”

  Another deep voice spoke clear Prednian. “Enough. You are dismissed.” A brief pause. “Kena Talgarth, I am TarKeen, commander of this ship. Though I have just arrived in this room, I’ve heard this entire conversation. I have no interest in debating your past encounter with us, but would like to confirm a point. Was it only one fighter craft that pursued you?”

  “It was.”

  “You may already know our fighters do not travel alone. If one chose to pursue, there were others who chose not to. I make this point to assure you that not every PitKreelaundun is so antagonistic as the watch officer I just dismissed.”

  “I see.”

  “You enquired about authority. I have command of this ship, known as the Epri7, and all of its support and fighter craft. A member of the governmental ruling families may countermand my orders. On this ship, Pernanyen of Frayunomen represents the PitKreelaundun government. You spoke with her a few moments ago. Pernanyen, would you care to confirm what I have said?”

  “I confirm it is so. I will add, TarKeen has never given me reason to countermand his orders. Kena Talgarth, I request that you bring the child to us. I commit that you will be permitted to leave in peace. TarKeen, do you concur?”

  “I agree with your choice.”

  “Then, I entrust the details to you,” Pernanyen said. “Gwillenin, know that we will recover your daughter. I will send for you when she arrives. Leave us, now, to arrange it.”

  “Permit me to stay with you.”

  “No, my friend, for grief disrupts your normal gentleness. Too many voices will invite dissention. Only TarKeen and I need to talk with her.”

  During the brief silence, Quon shook his head and mouthed the words, “Don’t trust them.”

  TarKeen spoke again. “Kena Talgarth, will you accept our assurances?”

  “In conversation my name is shortened to Kena.” She turned her craft and realigned its drift toward the Epri7. With only nav thrusters, she gave it a little nudge along its new course.

  “As you wish, Kena. A more definitive answer would be appreciated.”

  Kena licked her lips. “All that you say sounds acceptable.”

  TarKeen paused again before answering. “I have never spoken with a Human before. It is difficult to know what I should infer from that.”

  “You have given me only words. I still bear all the risk. Once you have Pearl, you no longer have a motive for ensuring my safety. It would be well if your arrangements for receiving Pearl demonstrated that your assurances can be trusted.”

  “I cannot imagine how we can prove our commitments until after you have given her to us.”

  “I can,” Kena said. “How far can you extend an energy field to capture a remote object?”

  He was slow to answer—perhaps reluctant to reveal their capabilities. “That would not be an acceptable solution. The child was deprived of contact for too long. She should pass directly from your arms to Gwillenin’s.”

  “That may not be possible. Would you pr
efer that I guess the distance, or would you like to tell me your range?”

  He drew an audible breath. “I realize this requires considerable trust on your part, but it is possible to bring your craft into our hold and safely depart again.”

  “Ah, yes.” Kena drew her words out. “Considerable trust. I’m trying to determine how much trust to extend, and you decline to answer a simple question.”

  “We do not have technology to extend fields,” TarKeen said. “An object must be at the plane of the hull before we can engage it.”

  “Unfortunate,” Kena murmured.

  Pernanyen tried again. “Perhaps I should explain that the PitKreelaundun government is dissatisfied with the high degree of tension at the borders. The treaty was supposed to help, but it did not. We have been seeking a means to improve relations. Such encounters as you have described live in memory for decades. As you pointed out, words alone are inadequate. I view this as a rare opportunity. When you leave our hold and continue on your way, we will have demonstrated the truth of our words. Not just to you, but to all who will learn of this. So, we do have strong motivation to let you depart in peace.”

  “I see.” Kena let the silence stretch.

  “Do we have a complete impasse?” TarKeen asked.

  “No.”

  “At your current approach rate,” he said, “you should arrive in a week. Is there a problem with your primary drive?”

  Kena chuckled. “Oh, surely not more than five Prednian days. You must have short weeks.” She nudged the ship a little faster. “You may consider that an indication of my plans. My drive is fully operational. For now, grant me a little patience. I occasionally must respond to physical needs, which some races consider unmentionable. Pearl is not making that any easier for me. You’ll need to endure some minutes of silence, and then I would like an explanation of docking maneuvers.”

  “Certainly.”

  Kena cut communication and let out a long sigh.

  Quon looked too appalled to speak. After a moment, he asked, “Do you really need to relieve yourself?”

  “Not nearly as bad as I needed an excuse to talk to you.”

  He opened and closed his fist. “Please tell me you’re not planning to take us into that ship.”

  “I won’t, but I want them to believe I will.”

  His hand stilled. “How do you intend to convince them without getting so close that all hope of escape is gone?”

  “We approach fast, reach the highest speed we can manage, release what they want, veer away, and head for safety. They’ll need to decide whether to pick up Pearl or chase this craft. I believe they will opt for Pearl. By the time they have her safe, you’ll have that head start you wanted.”

  He frowned at the console. “It might work.”

  Kena squirmed out of the awkward restraint. “Start planning the course, while I go aft. I’ll be back in a couple minutes.

  Out of Quon’s view, Kena released the guard on her demeanor. Her shoulders heaved. Automatic, physical motions could not claim her attention. Her thoughts churned, lurching back and forth. Oh, God, help me! If I had left her, she would have been safe with her own race by now.

  Stewing over if-only regrets was pointless, but this one stabbed tangible pain through her chest.

  I was doing good. Oh father, maybe I should have asked you, but the choice was so obvious! I was rescuing a child. Now I’m on the verge of capture by the PitKreelaundun. She’d jeopardized Quon, too. If the PitKreelaundun got this craft, they’d get additional technology, which would make them even more dangerous to the entire Collaborative. Please, father, show me some other way out of this mess. Please!

  She’d started shaking. Her trained navigator’s mind snapped an order at her fears. You do not fall apart in danger! She took several calming breaths. It was so hard to hear God when focused on fear.

  He spoke the instant she turned her attention to him. I love you. I work all things together for good. I have promised: I will never, never, never leave you!

  Kena wrapped herself in his words. As an energy shield protected her body, so his words protected her mind. She let herself drift in mid-air for a moment, rubbing Pearl’s back. If only another idea would come to her. But it didn’t.

  She took a deep breath, grabbed her EVA belt from its anchor, and returned to the cockpit.

  Quon eyed the belt. When he spoke, his voice was subdued, echoing her unspoken fears. “There are your acceleration and release options.”

  Kena touched the console to select one then made a slight alteration.

  “That’s getting awfully close, considering the speed.”

  “I know, but I’m not sure how fast we can accelerate with Pearl on board. We’ll just have to adjust as needed.”

  He eyed the belt again. “That needs to contact the body all the way around, and the closure must be engaged correctly.”

  “Yeah. For some strange reason, there’s no baby-sized EVA belt on this craft.” She’d meant it to sound light, but sarcasm edged her words.

  “You’re planning to go out with her, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t see any other way.”

  “No, Kena. Do not do this!”

  “I can't let them have this craft,” Kena said. “It needs a pilot. I made the decision to rescue Pearl. It’s my responsibility to salvage what I can out of this disaster.”

  “I can't just fly off and leave you here.”

  “I was hoping you’d feel that way.” She tightened her lips to keep them from trembling. “I'm going to ask them to let me out of their hold and withdraw. If they do, you can come back for me. If not, you will return to the Ontrevay.”

  “Kena…” His hands clenched and extended, the fingers arching as though he longed to grab something.

  “I'm open to better ideas, so long as they keep you and this craft out of PitKreelaundun hands. They must also keep the PitKreelaundun from chasing us all the way back to the Ontrevay. I will not start a war.”

  Silence stretched. Kena wiggled her computer from between her belt and Pearl’s leg and anchored it to the console. She uploaded a recording of the conversation she’d just had with the PitKreelaundun. “If they don’t let me go, give my computer to Ghent and ask him to get it to my family on Earth.”

  “Understood.” His voice was barely audible. He forced confidence into it. “But it will be here waiting for you when I pick you up.”

  “I expect so.” Kena got the EVA belt around herself despite Pearl’s objection to any movement that interfered with her grip. She settled into her couch. “Engage the primary drive. Let’s get this over with before I get peed on.”

  TarKeen’s voice came back on the comm channel with a description of docking procedures. Kena listened and questioned as though she intended to use them. Another tidbit of information to return to the Collaborative, assuming Quon escaped. She had never docked within a spinning cylinder, and the method the PitKreelaundun had developed intrigued her. Rather than the chambered bay of the Ontrevay, they had fashioned a receiving bay interlaced with a web-like version of energy shielding. A relief, since she and Pearl would be propelled toward them with all the momentum of her craft.

  TarKeen was silent for a few minutes then returned with the statement, “The captain of the Ontrevay has contacted us.”

  “I’m sure he has,” Kena said.

  “We have given him a summary of the situation and assured him that you will be permitted to return.”

  “I see. Would you care to explain why I have not received communications from him?”

  “They have sent several requests for your status,” TarKeen said. “We are blocking the communication signal.”

  Pernanyen rushed into speech. “I would like you to understand our reasons. You offered peace to us as a Human. We are dealing with you as a Human. However, we understand that you are a member of an Interstellar Collaborative crew. This presents possible contradictions. We do not wish to destabilize an already sensitive situation.”


  Quon made a derisive face at the ship in their display screen.

  “I perceive your concern,” Kena said “However, withholding communication is likely to increase distrust. I assume you have recorded our conversations. If you will not let me speak with Ghent directly, I request that you send him the recordings.”

  “We will consider your request,” Pernanyen said.

  When Kena closed the comm channel, Quon rudely parroted Pernanyen’s last sentence.

  Kena smirked. “You would never make it in a diplomatic position.”

  “Believe me, I will stay with navigation. Do you really think we’ll ever be able to trust them?”

  “I’ll let you know in an hour,” Kena said. “Pearl is breathing hard. You’d better level off the acceleration rate. Keep an eye on the craft that went into the nebula. And let me know if the Ontrevay changes position.”

  Kena kept their attention on navigating, determined to ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach. Increasing detail of the Epri7 came into focus. “Look at this!” she said. “It’s not a single cylinder. There are several…kind of like separate decks nested inside each other, all spinning at different rates.”

  “Wonder how they move from one deck to another?”

  “I’m reading considerable shielding between decks. They could enclose airlocks and let them rotate.” When they drew a little closer, she said, “Look at the way the shield is configured over the flat end. It’s not flat at all, but stepped in. Every deck is completely self-contained in its own shield.”

  “Redundant to the extreme,” Quon said.

  “Not a bad design if you fly around explosive debris all the time. Failure of the outer hull would have no impact on the decks within. See that all this data gets to the Ontrevay.”

  TarKeen addressed her again. “Why are you still accelerating?”

  “First, you complain that I approached too slow; now too fast. I would like to hand Pearl to her new mother and be on my way as soon as possible.”

  “You’re more than halfway here,” he said. “Additional speed is both inefficient and concerning.”