by Ryk Brown
The interior of the house was also not as Nathan remembered. The last time he had visited Captain Dubnyk, his home had been small, sparsely furnished, with little in the way of decoration. It had also been poorly kept and in disarray. This time, it was the complete opposite. The interior was well decorated in traditional Tannan stylings, and it was spotlessly clean and tidy.
Nathan was led into a small sitting room just off the main entry foyer.
“If you’ll please take a seat, the captain will be with you in a moment. He is just finishing up his afternoon teachings.”
“Teachings? What does he teach?”
“History, religion, philosophy,” she replied, “the captain is a very wise man. He has lived over a thousand years, you know.”
“Yes, I am aware.” Most of it in suspended animation, Nathan thought to himself as he took his seat.
“Can I get you anything?” the young woman asked. “Something to eat or drink? Some spiced tea, perhaps? It is a wonderful blend that we grow in the garden here. It goes very nicely with the tarts I made this morning.”
“No thank you, I’m fine.”
“Very well. It will just be a few minutes,” the young woman assured him. She nodded politely and excused herself.
“How are you doing out there, Sergeant?” Nathan said in a near whisper over his comm-set.
“I am fine, Captain. Further scans confirm my original assessment. This structure is actually two structures that were recently joined. There has also been considerable remodeling done to the interior in recent months.”
“How can you tell?”
“My sensors can detect weaknesses in the structure,” the sergeant explained. “Newer construction tends to be stronger, due to better methods and newer materials. There are a total of four exits. One on each face of the building. There are also many windows through which one can exit, none of which appear to have been reinforced. Should you need to exit quickly, it should not be difficult. Furthermore, the front door has only a single locking bar, which my weapon will handle with ease. I can be inside in seconds if needed.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Captain Dubnyk is not a violent man.”
“I have read the files on Mister Dubnyk,” the sergeant replied. “The only conclusion I was able to come to was that he is intelligent, and is willing to do whatever is necessary to stay alive. Those two attributes alone make him dangerous, in spite of his advanced age. Other than that, we know alarmingly little about him, which makes him even more suspect as a threat.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nathan replied.
The young woman reappeared. “Captain Scott, if you will please follow me, Captain Dubnyk will see you now.”
Nathan rose and followed the young woman down the corridor.
“Captain,” the sergeant called over the comms, “It appears you are being led to a large room at the end of the corridor. There are seven men in the room. Six of them to your left as you enter, and one of them to your right. I believe the one to your right will be Dubnyk, as the other six persons are facing him. I still detect no weapons.”
Nathan refrained from answering the sergeant as he continued to follow the young woman down the corridor. He was not sure if she was aware of their comm-link, and he felt no need to advertise the fact.
The young woman opened the door at the end of the corridor and stepped into the room, holding the door open for Nathan. He followed her in, and found exactly what his sergeant had described. Six men to the left, and Captain Dubnyk to his right. The room was tastefully decorated, with rich tapestries on the walls and floor. Captain Dubnyk sat in a comfortable, overstuffed chair on one side of the room, and the rest sat in more modest chairs arranged in a semi-circle facing the captain.
“Captain Scott,” Mister Dubnyk greeted in earnest. He gestured to the young woman who had escorted the captain in, and she quickly moved to his side to help him rise from his chair. “I did not think I would see you again,” he continued as he took a few shaky steps toward Nathan to greet him properly. He reached out to shake his guest’s hand.
Nathan took the old man’s hand. Mister Dubnyk’s grip was weak, but his hands did not tremble as much as before. Nathan shook his hand gently. “I am happy to see that you are doing so well,” Nathan greeted. “When I approached, I was positive that I had made a wrong turn somewhere.”
“Ah, yes. I was fortunate to acquire the residence next door when the owner passed.”
“How have you been able to afford so much in so little time?” Nathan wondered.
“Please, Captain, won’t you sit?” Dubnyk said, as he gestured to one of the young men to give up his seat.
“I hope I’m not interrupting?”
“Not at all, not at all,” Dubnyk insisted. “What better opportunity for my students to learn about history than to meet a man who is making it day in and day out.”
“I think you are exaggerating my contributions, Mister Dubnyk.”
“The good captain is too modest,” Mister Dubnyk told his students.
“I would feel better if only you and Mister Dubnyk were in the room, Captain,” the sergeant said over the captain’s comm-set.
“I wasn’t expecting an audience, I’m afraid,” Nathan told Mister Dubnyk. “Perhaps we could talk in private? I promise I won’t take too much of your time.”
“Nonsense, Captain. I am always available for you. I have already cleared my calendar for the afternoon. I gave the order as soon as I was made aware of your arrival.” Mister Dubnyk looked at his students. “Please, gentlemen, the captain and I have much to discuss. We will continue your lessons tomorrow morning, at the usual time.”
Nathan nodded at the young men as they rose from their chairs and left the room. “They are all so young,” he commented after the last of them had left the room.
“The young are usually the most eager to expand their horizons. They are at the age when all the world is a mystery, and life has not yet locked them into the daily routines and responsibilities that so often hamper one’s continued personal growth.”
“And their parents approve of your teachings?”
“On the contrary, Captain,” Mister Dubnyk said, surprised by Nathan’s accusing tone, “they encourage it. I am helping to broaden their understandings of humanity through the teachings of history. Being a student of history yourself, I would expect you to understand the value of its lessons more than most.”
“History can be both objective and subjective,” Nathan pointed out.
“Ah yes, the old ‘history is written by the victorious’ argument. I suppose there is some truth to the matter, as well as your assertions. But that is where philosophy comes into play, is it not? We present the facts, the objective aspects of a historical event, and then we look at them subjectively as we try to understand the how and why of the events. It is in the analysis of those objective facts wherein the value of history’s lessons lie.” Mister Dubnyk chuckled. “If nothing else, Captain, I am keeping restless young men off the streets of Klondell and out of trouble.”
Nathan smiled wryly. “Why do I feel like I’m being given a sales pitch?”
“My apologies,” Mister Dubnyk replied. “I have had to defend the value of my teachings on more than one occasion. I am running a business, after all.”
“And a quite lucrative one at that,” Nathan replied.
“Yes, I have been fortunate in that regard. As I said during your last visit, the Tannans love their stories, and there is so much they do not know about the past. Their own history has been nearly erased on two separate occasions…first by the bio-digital plague, and then by the Jung centuries later. There is a great void in their own cultural history that is dying to be filled. That is where I come in. In exchange, I accept whatever remuneration my customers are willing to bestow upon me. Some are even willing to pay for regular sessions, like those young men who just left.”
“And how many students do you have?” Nathan
wondered.
“A few dozen, I suspect. My assistant, Fayla—the young woman who greeted you—she keeps track of such things.”
“You can even afford an assistant?”
“A sad story, one of many, I’m afraid. She lost her father. He was serving on the Jar-Keurog when it was destroyed. Her mother died when she was young. She had nowhere to go, so I took her in. She has become quite indispensable to me. Almost like a daughter, really. She takes care of me, and in exchange, I share everything I have with her.”
“And the others? Are they lost souls as well?”
“A few others might fit that description, each in their own unique way, I suppose. I do have some students who regularly exchange labor for lessons. In fact, most of the remodeling of my home was accomplished by such arrangements.”
“Quite the enterprise.”
“It has worked out well for me here on Tanna. That is why you pop in periodically, is it not, Captain? To check on my well-being?”
“Perhaps.”
“Or is it my magnetic personality that draws you back time and again?”
“Let’s stick with the ‘well-being’ thing.”
“Of course,” Mister Dubnyk replied with a smile.
“I trust you are in good health?”
“Indeed, at least for a man of a thousand. From what I hear, you are doing quite well for yourself as well, Captain. How many systems have you liberated now? Eight?”
“Two, actually,” Nathan replied, “and I had a bit of help.”
Mister Dubnyk looked confused. “I was under the impression that it was far more.”
“This system, and Sol. All those that followed were liberated under the command of Admiral Dumar of the Alliance.”
“But you did lead the attacks, did you not?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then it is your name that history will remember,” Mister Dubnyk insisted. “People like to hear stories of those who led the battles, not those who made the decisions to send others into battle.”
“I’m not sure that my history professors would agree with you.”
Mister Dubnyk leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me, Captain, to whom does the child whose father was killed direct their hatred? At the general who gave the order to attack, or at the man who pointed the gun and pulled the trigger? Make no mistake, Captain, you are the one who will be remembered in the centuries that follow. Of this I am quite certain.”
“As I have no control over how future generations judge my actions, I am quite content not worrying about their judgments,” Nathan replied.
“A bold statement,” Mister Dubnyk observed. “Some might call it disconcerting, as well.”
“How so?”
“I know that you consider the consequences of every order you give, however, others may not. Take Kent, for example. How many millions died because of your failed attempt to remove the Jung from the Alpha Centauri B system?”
“And how many more on Earth might have died had we not eliminated those forces?” Nathan asked.
“That question can never be answered with any amount of certainty,” Mister Dubnyk replied. “I am not condemning your actions, Captain, nor am I agreeing with them. I am merely pointing out the value of such historical analysis. Each and every one of us must make similar decisions on a daily basis. Perhaps not on such a grand scale, of course, and most likely few of us must make decisions of life and death for others in our entire lifetimes. But knowing of others who have been forced to make such decisions, and contemplating their reasons, good or bad, can help prepare us to make our own decisions in a more timely and responsible manner.” Dubnyk again looked at Nathan, studying him intensely. “Or have I given you more credit than you are due?”
“How do you mean?” Nathan asked.
“When you attack Jung forces, when you destroy ships, when you take lives, when you put the lives of innocents at grave risk… Do you consider the possible consequences, or do you simply dismiss such potential outcomes as acceptable losses, given what you consider to be the dire nature of your own situation?”
“An interesting question,” Nathan admitted. “I do consider the possible consequences, to an extent. But as I took an oath to defend my people, and by extension the people of any world who choose to join our Alliance, I have to accept those consequences, and not allow the horror of their nature to dissuade me from meeting the responsibilities entrusted to me.”
“Very well put,” Mister Dubnyk congratulated, sitting back in his chair again. “Very well put, indeed. But, do you actually believe that?”
“If I did not, I would resign my position,” Nathan insisted.
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
Mister Dubnyk leaned his head to one side, rubbing his cheek. “I wonder. Power and authority can be quite addictive. You know as well as I that history is replete with those who violated their own ethics in order to maintain the position.”
“As well as those who did not,” Nathan countered. “Although history rarely remembers them with equal interest.”
“Indeed, acts of great horror are far more memorable, it seems. So tell me, Captain,” Mister Dubnyk continued, “how do you wish history to remember you?”
“To be honest, I would be quite content if history were to completely forget about me.”
Mister Dubnyk chuckled. “There is little chance of that, Captain. For better or worse, your name will likely be known for many years to come. Perhaps not by all, but by many. Of that I am certain. The question remains, however, if you can live with their judgments?”
“As I said before, their judgments do not concern me. The only judgments that concern me are my own, of myself, as I am the only one who must live with my decisions.”
“You are grossly mistaken in that regard,” Mister Dubnyk argued. “Millions of us have to live with your decisions, as well as the decisions of your superiors, whether we like it or not. Your Alliance has taken it upon themselves to decide which of us lives, and which of us dies. Your Alliance believes that they have the right to dictate to the Jung where they can and cannot position their forces, and whether or not they have the right to conquer others.”
“You believe the Jung are justified in what they do?” Nathan wondered in disbelief.
“Not at all. However, I strongly suspect that they feel they are justified, otherwise they would not have taken such actions.”
“And the rest of us should just accept whatever the Jung do because they feel they are acting within their rights?”
“I believe you’re missing the point, Captain,” Mister Dubnyk said. “There is no absolute right and wrong, here, for right and wrong are subjective as well. What is right for you may be wrong for me, and vice versa. The Jung have committed no crimes, at least not in their eyes. Now, if they had done something that they felt was wrong, but did it anyway, then that would constitute the commission of a wrongful act, but still, not necessarily a crime. You see, there is no accepted, universal set of rules. No agreed upon system of order against which to measure the actions of each and every one of us. Because of this, there can only be chaos, at least at the universal level. Sure, we can have little pockets of order, here and there, but because of the inconsistencies in our interpretation of right and wrong, order and disorder, chaos will always exist. It is the natural state of humanity.”
“There is one common human belief,” Nathan began.
“Ah, yes, that which is taught by all of man’s religions. ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ Also one of the least followed teachings of humanity, I might add. A better lesson might be to expect that others will do unto you what they must in order to survive. That is what I have come to expect over my many years of life.”
“Perhaps your opinions are somewhat jaded by your own experiences?”
“Influenced, yes, but not jaded. I have seen humanity at its best and at its worst, Captain. I have seen the good and the bad, and the bad usually win. And d
o you know why?”
“No, but I expect you are about to tell me,” Nathan replied.
“Because the bad are generally the stronger. They have the strength to pull the trigger. They simply see what they want, identify what is preventing them from obtaining it, and take action. To the bad, the ‘right’ is that which gets them what they want, and the ‘bad’ is that which is in their way. This is precisely why the Jung have been so successful. It is also why you will never defeat them. You are not willing to be as strong as them.”
“You mean, as evil as them.”
“Evil, just as beauty, is in the eye of the beholder,” Mister Dubnyk insisted. “If you do not believe that the end justifies the means, you cannot win the ultimate victory.”
“I’m not sure it is that simple,” Nathan argued.
“Ah, but it is, my dear Captain,” Mister Dubnyk laughed. “It truly is. The sooner you see that, the better off you will be.”
* * *
“One minute to first target,” Luis reported from the Celestia’s tactical console. “All cannons show hot and ready to fire, parallel pattern, single shots, range will be twelve-fifty.”
“Very well,” Cameron replied. “Shields up, Lieutenant. I don’t want any debris bouncing back at us.”
“All shields at maximum,” Luis confirmed. “Thirty seconds.”
“Contacts?”
“Board is clear,” Ensign Kono replied.
“Comms, broadcast a warning, all directions, all frequencies,” Cameron ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Ensign Souza replied.
“Weapons free, Lieutenant. Fire when ready.”
“Weapons free, aye. Fifteen seconds.”
Cameron looked down at the new, clear touchscreen to her right and tapped the controls. She glanced over at the large, clear, display screen to the right of her helmsman, which was also new. The view from the starboard cameras came up on the screen, showing a rather large asteroid passing to starboard about twelve hundred meters away. She tapped another button on her touch screen and the view on the right screen swapped with the forward cameras currently displayed on the main view screen, bringing the starboard camera view to the main screen that wrapped around the front half of the bridge.