Eye of the Gazelle

by Marcia Tucker

  In Xandee culture, a formal audience, called a Gedzra, was not taken lightly. The Gedzra involved a high degree of stylized ritual, almost a dance of flight, a rigidly designed activity that had been a feature of their common culture for centuries. It also underlined the seriousness of the anticipated negotiations.

  (“Why do you think he is resorting to this extreme?”) Zanil-nilox-el asked his superior. They landed at the residence cone of the community leader, Yur-hazeg-el, on the outskirts of their colony.

  The discussions had gone on for a full two days. A consensus had been reached in favor of relocation, but Xiel had wanted more unity than that, so the debates had been scheduled to continue.

  (“I can only guess that it has something to do with why Druxa-el's forces were stopped from attacking us,”) Dr. Xiel signed back. (“He may think we have a new defense system. We cannot let him know that we do not, though we may need to tell him of our new allies.”)

  (“If only they didn't resemble Ruena,”) Zanil replied morosely as they joined the others.

  That was the prevailing opinion of the others at this little gathering. Besides Yur-hazeg-el, the outspoken Wiq-bexa-el and the elder Niz-donaq-el were also present.

  Once a round of the Xandee favorite beverage, spiced Jy water, had been served, the five settled in on perches to discuss this new development in earnest. The notice from Druxa-el had been delivered by a government courier specially trained to perform the Gedzra invitation dance. It was a summons that could not be ignored. Fortunately, the Gedzra could only occur when security of both parties could be assured. No weapons, no show of force, no hostility could be present.

  (“A good sign, but a surprising one,”) Bexa-el commented. (“Why the Gedzra? I wouldn't have thought Druxa-el had any respect for us at all.”)

  (“Could it be a trick?”) Donaq-el asked.

  (“They wouldn't dare!”) Zanil frantically signed, shocked.

  (“Not even Druxa-el would use the Gedzra to trick us,”) Dr. Xiel replied with surety. (“But we may still want to have our new friends help to watch for anything unexpected.”)

  Vekta had left him with a Fiftheye communicator he'd adapted for localized use since of course there was no planetary network to utilize. It would allow the teleXandee to reach the Elektra if they needed to contact Stander.

  f

  The twins had woken first, pouting that their father was gone, then were curious to find Stander sleeping as well. “Scorpa, are you around here?” Story inquired aloud.

  There was no answer from the energy entity. Cepting around, the qild did not sense his presence, either. “No answer. Guess he's gone,” qe murmured.

  “Wow, we slept a good ten hours,” Cory commented, then padded over to poke the adult Dracon's shoulder curiously. “Major? Everything okay? Where's Bapa?”

  Stander, thanks to his Tryker training, did not move a single muscle upon being stabbed by the girl's finger. He woke fully, immediately aware of where he was and who was with him. He remembered the brief merge5 with Vekta Rentclifv. I've been in merge depletion, he noted somberly. “Everything is fine,” he replied, then opened his eyes. “Your father has returned to Althaea to let the Commander General know what's been going on here,” he added, and sat up.

  “Oh.” Cory backed off, blinking at the pale man. “Well, I guess we all needed to sleep, eh?”

  Nodding, Stander rose smoothly, moving past the girl to enter the control room of the little starcraft. He looked over the controls quickly to ascertain that their position in orbit around Xanda was still stable.

  “I'll get some food together,” Cory declared while Story went to use the refresher. She danced down the hall to the little lounge, going to the autochef.

  “Nothing for me, thanks for asking,” came a familiar drawled voice. “Where's your Bapa?”

  Cory's fingers were flicking dexterously around the autochef’s Sixtheye interface. She didn't look up. “Bapa has gone to let the Commander General know what's going on here,” she replied smoothly. “Sorry, you won't get your ride home just yet.”

  Scorpa, leaning against the nearest wall, sighed heavily. “Not looking for a ride just yet,” he murmured, watching her. “Besides, he gave me a job.”

  “Yeah?” Story inquired, entering with Stander. “What job?”

  The entity looked nervous for a moment as all three Dracons abruptly glared at him. Well, the Tryker didn't exactly glare. “Collecting data on the Xandee, of course,” he said, glancing away. “Been in and out of a lot of those dragonfly minds, you know. You'll be surprised what's really been going on.”

  “They're not dragonflies!” Cory snapped, then as the autochef beeped in readiness, she removed the tray that emerged. Turning to place it on the nearest table, she purposely stepped on his foot. “Oops, sorry,” she muttered, not in the least sorry.

  “Geesh!” Scorpa exclaimed, hopping aside. “Look, I'm really trying to help here! Give me a break, kid, will you?”

  “You've got a long way to go before getting a break,” Story murmured, sitting down at the table. Qe reached for the pitcher of freiascha and poured qerself a glass. “Or breakfast, for that matter.”

  “Don't worry, I don't want your food,” Scorpa retorted, although at the odors of the food, he suddenly felt hungry. Well, this body doesn't work like theirs, he noted to himself, irritated. I can't even taste the food. I just convert anything put in here directly to energy.

  Cory waved Stander to sit beside her qother, then passed out plates from the tray. “Good, more for us,” she said, grinning. On each plate was a fruit pie and a small souffle of vegetables and a protein-rich grain grown on Draco called allthit which due to its gelatinous and starchy layers, was extremely versatile in its use.

  Scorpa leaned a little closer to peer over Stander's shoulder at the food. “Um... no meat? That isn't meat, is it?”

  “Hardly,” Cory said, a forkful of souffle aloft. “We don't eat meat.”

  “Consuming animal flesh. How barbaric,” Story murmured, qer mouth full.

  “Children,” Stander said, setting down his glass of freiascha after taking a swallow. “Many sentient peoples eat the flesh of nonsentient species. We don't ask them to eat like us. Our hosts, the Xandee, in fact, are carnivorous. I'm surprised you would even comment on that, Scorpa. You don't normally manifest a form that requires physical subsistence, do you?”

  “Fine, I'll shut up. When's Rentclifv coming back? I got a lot to tell him.”

  “You can tell us,” Story suggested brightly.

  “No, thanks,” Scorpa muttered. He glanced again at the enticing food, then disappeared.

  “Anti-social,” Cory commented.

  “Full of himself,” Story noted.

  Stander didn't comment. I wonder what he means by “what's really going on?”

  *

  Scorpa had returned to the planet surface, but then suddenly found himself sitting in an office in a chair beside an enormous frilly green plant which had put out tendrils that were now reaching for him. “What the—?!”

  “A Freen, don't mind it,” Vekta Rentclifv said quietly. “You have information for me?”

  The energy entity looked up, saw the Dracon, and froze. What... this is the Andromedea? When did it arrive? Where is this? He jumped as a tendril wrapped around his wrist. He yanked it away, but the tendril was stronger. As soon as he stopped pulling, it released him. This... did I just hear it? It's... disappointed?

  “Freens are native to Alsafi IV, my home planet of Draco,” Vekta explained smoothly. “We prefer having them in space with us. It's very friendly, as you saw. I think you hurt its feelings.” But he wondered why the plant would react to a nonDracon at all.

  “It's creepy,” Scorpa muttered. “Yeah, I got information. But... where are we?”

  “Hmm... this is Xost Universe, but we're about seventeen light years out from Pollux. We'll slip back into Gamma — what your friend called Hendor — in a
while. Gamma has a significantly faster speed of light than Alpha or Xost. We're enroute to Vega, of course.”

  “Your starship can switch between universes, but then so can you now, right?” Scorpa was beginning to calm down after the initial shock of displacement. “Why bother with the transit?”

  “We have things to do — data to collect — and I need the information you've gathered for me,” Vekta said. He flicked a finger at the Sixtheye field node beside his desk. “Majors Tauscher, Aurand, abe Ti, please report to Conference A.” Closing the field, he stood then teleported himself and Scorpa to the nearby conference room. “You are finished collecting data, right?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Scorpa rolled a shoulder, glancing around. To his consternation, this room, too, possessed one of the giant ferns. He was careful to keep away from it. He was wary of Vekta Rentclifv, too, feeling quite intimidated by the powers the Dracon now possessed. Gotta stay calm, be good here...

  Vekta wasn't done gathering his team. “Stander, I need to bring you here now,” he menttransed to the Elektra and his Chief Navigator. “Just tell the twins I need you for a while. The Andromedea will be arriving in a few days. I'll send you back there after this meeting.”

  Rising from the table, Stander bowed slightly to the children. “I must excuse myself for a short while. Your father needs me on the Andromedea for a meeting. I'll be back soon.”

  The twins jumped up. “You're not done eating! When's Bapa coming? Can we come now, too?”

  Then they froze as the diamond-sharp menttrans of their father came to them, too: “Not now, twin stars. The Andromedea is enroute. We'll be there in a few days. But I need Stander right now. Be good.”

  Surprised, the twins nodded as one. Then Stander disappeared.

  Moments later, other officers arrived — and were also shocked when they saw who else was in the room. “Stander... er, Major Kvaan!” Austine blurted out, then noticed the other man. “Who the hell are you?”

  Novella didn't say anything, but also looked at the strange man with a frown. Veladasser widened his eyes, but waited for their commander to explain.

  Stander nodded to the executive officer, then gestured at the stranger. “This is Scorpa, who is now working for us.”

  Austine's hand folded into a fist. “You bastard, you're the one who interfered with the Rentclifv kids.!”

  Scorpa put his hands out in defense. “That was Slimy, the self-styled Polluxanvega,” he said quickly. “I was a victim, too!”

  “You paralyzed our personnel, including Vekta and me,” Austine snapped, stepping in his direction menacingly.

  “Not doing that anymore, and I apologize,” Scorpa said hastily.

  “I don't want to take a lot of time for this,” Vekta broke in, a hand on Austine's shoulder to defuse her ire. “Let's all sit down.” He steered her to the seat to the right of the head of the table, where he sat. The others took seats; Scorpa was careful to leave a couple seats empty between himself and anyone else.

  “Now, before we discuss the situation at Vega, something else needs to be done first,” Vekta began quietly. “Scorpa has been collecting information for me. I'm going to effect the Link with Crater, and then gather the information. Are you ready?” He directed the question to Scorpa.

  The man frowned, shifting in his chair uneasily. “Yeah, whatever.”

  Vekta effected the Link. “Crater, we're going to tap into Scorpa's memory and read everything he's found out without analysis. I'll let you do that, then you can give us all a report on it.”

  Yes, Kviatha, Crater thought his response. He waited, then when the flood of conversations, data, views, observations passed into his database, he automatically sorted it all out. But he also couldn't help but be confused as well as impressed. For one, Scorpa had done exactly as promised, reading minds both in Center Cone and in the capital, including the leaders of both sides. He'd also read through a substantial amount of communiques going around the government officials about the teleXandee as well as Dr. Xiel's own studies on their genetic peculiarities that allowed them their extradimensional powers.

  Being that Scorpa could unmanifest at will, he made a formidable and valuable spy.

  There's a lot here! Crater thought to his creator. And many surprises.

  “I see that. I didn't realize Scorpa was going to be able to sponge up so much data...”

  “Are we done?” Scorpa muttered under his breath, slouching down in his chair, arms crossed insolently over his chest.

  “Done,” Crater said aloud. “And I'm almost done with my analysis.”

  “Great, so I can go now, Rentclifv?” Scorpa glanced nervously at Austine, who was still glaring at him.

  “Stay put; I'll send you back when I'm ready,” Vekta said, ignoring the prickly tension between the two. “Crater, I'll turn this over to you.” He broke the Link gently and sat back.

  “Very well,” Crater replied, then, keeping an eye on Scorpa, started in. “There exists an uneasy and unstable truce between the Xandee and a species on the sixteenth moon, the Ruena, who are very similar to Humans, except that they possess large and versatile prehensile tails. While their hands and arms — except that they have four fingers, not five — are Humanlike, their lower anatomy is more like a... a—”

  “Kangaroo,” Scorpa supplied, smirking. “I know, I thought so, too. But I don't mind saying it.”

  “Terran kangaroo,” Crater finished. “Well, of course that original species is extinct, but the adaptation on Atuerid II, the roo, is a clear descendent. Not as large as either a kangaroo or Ruena, but similar in appearance. Yet bigger than the Terran wallaby. Anyway, the Ruena are significantly more advanced technologically than the Xandee, not telepathic, and are rather aggressive in their advances to establish a colony on Xanda. They have a robust space travel program which is more interested in commercial applications than recreational or scientific ones. For ‘research purposes,’ they claim, but the Xandee won't allow a colony, understandably.

  “Now there’s the teleXandee group at the Center Cone location. They're viewed with suspicion and just because they have pulled away from the main society, it's been easy to accuse them of collaborating with the Ruena. There's no basis for that. In fact, contrary to the teleXandee's fears, the leader of the main society, Gon-druxa-el, does not share the fears of the people.”

  “But he led a force that was about to attack Center Cone until I stopped them,” Vekta said to Scorpa.

  “Yeah, about that...” Scorpa murmured, slouching down in his chair. “Eh, you explain, Computerman.”

  “There's a xenophobic religious group named AllXan which preaches that peace in their world can only be achieved by suppressing all elements not ‘pure.’ They view the teleXandee as a genetic aberration which needs to be eliminated,” Crater explained. “Unfortunately, they have been able to get much of the public behind them. Druxa-el is in fact under a lot of pressure from these xenophobes.”

  Sighing, Vekta nodded. “I did not have a chance to read him deeper at the time, but I did sense duplicity in the man. So this AllXan group proposes genocide and have been pressuring Druxa-el.”

  Crater ran a quick search on genocide. “They're like Humans after all,” he commented, reviewing the many unfortunate entries. “Human societies have practiced genocide of specific racial groups all through history before the advent of space travel.”

  “What changed?” Scorpa asked. He didn't personally see anything wrong with purges if necessary to keep the peace or to get rid of unwanted elements in a society. It's what's done... even if I myself was one of those unwanted elements. It is what it is.

  “Environmental changes on the Human's planet of origin, Sol III, caused increasingly damaging patterns of weather until the year 2042 in which solar flares and hydrocarbon emissions combined to cause what history has called the Big Blow, a worldwide storm system that triggered an onslaught of hurricanes, tsunami, tornadoes—”

  “I don'
t know what those are,” Scorpa snapped, not wanting a long-winded explanation. “So basically a disaster convinced the planetary societies into banding together to solve their common problem, and the petty differences dissolved.”

  Crater wasn't used to being so abruptly interrupted. There was, of course, much much more to the explanation. He paused, then replied, “Something like that.” Really!

  “The Ruena are a common problem, yet the regular Xandee still cling to their suspicion of the teleXandee,” Vekta mused. “Or perhaps they have transferred their frustration with the Ruena onto their own people.”

  “So what's your thoughts on the teleXandee then, Vekta?” Austine wanted to know. “Do they really need to relocate to our universe?”

  Vekta took a deep breath. “Of course it's their decision, though I think it would be to their benefit. We could also research the region to find an environmentally acceptable planet for relocation in Xost, but that will take a lot of time, which I don't think they have. Except for differences in the intensity of radiation on Vriesia and on Xanda, the two planets are very similar. Vriesians don't want to live on the equatorial continent because of the humidity but the Xandee would prefer that.”

  “Lots of decisions to be made on several fronts,” Novella commented thoughtfully. “Vega Community on Vriesia. The Guard. The teleXandee. Would the teleXandee all want to leave their home planet, anyway?”

  Vekta looked at her sharply; this was the first she'd spoken in this discussion. He remembered her last words to him and his surprise. Feeling the strange sensation again, he murmured, “Well, that's an important consideration, of course. I guess the final decision isn't ours, is it?”

  Austine frowned at the change in their commander's voice, but didn't say anything. She glanced at Stander, who'd been silent throughout the meeting. “Do you think they'll go for it, Stander?” she asked, though more to hear his melodious voice than to get his opinion.

  “It depends, I imagine, on how strong their ties are to their society,” Stander observed coolly, looking at nothing in particular, his eyes unfocused and partially hooded. “Since this group chose to isolate themselves in their colony, it may be that they've already broken those ties. I sense in some of them a spirit of risk-taking and adventure, especially in their leader, Xiel-qoran-el. It remains to be seen how loyal the group is to him and how much of a risk the others are willing to take.”