THE LOST COLONY

by D M Arnold

  She gasped. “NYK! You didn't!”

  “It worked. It was more of a joke...”

  “You DON'T joke about that!” She pulled from him. “Now, I'll have to sit in on those sessions, looking at Ogan's smug face -- knowing he thinks the only reason I'm here is as YOUR plaything!”

  “Andra -- you're an indispensable part of this team.”

  “But Ogan doesn't know that! Get out of this bed! You can sleep on the sofa for that remark.” Andra planted her foot in the small of his back and pushed him onto the floor.

  “Andra! I was joking!” She pulled the covers to her chin and rolled with her back to him. “Andra... Andra, I'm sorry...”

  He sighed, shook his head, walked into the living room and sat at the media terminal.

  * * *

  Nyk heard running water switch off and Andra stepping from the shower. She approached him from behind. “Nyk -- I'm sorry I kicked you out of bed last night.”

  “You were right to. I deserved it. Andra, I'm very sorry. Please forgive me.”

  She drew in a breath and exhaled it loudly. “I forgive you. I think this place is getting to us. All I want to do is go home.”

  “I think I have the answer to that.”

  “Did you sleep at all?”

  “No -- I spent the whole night writing.” He handed her his handheld.

  She began scrolling through the document. Her jaw dropped.

  “It's a report addressed to Kronta, but it's intended for the Secretary of Colonial Affairs.”

  “I see what it is...” Her eyes began to brim. “Oh, Nyk! Do you really feel this way?”

  “With all my heart.”

  “I was so worried you didn't... Oh, Nyk -- I was so afraid Ogan was right!”

  “How could you be, Andra? You KNOW me. After all the two of us have been through together, how could you think...”

  “The remarks you made... 'The novonids didn't bother you ... a reasonable solution ... one YOU might've come up with' ... the way you were coming on to Laida...”

  “Oh, no Andra. I was willing to take Ogan's remarks at face value. Now that I've seen them with my own eyes...” Nyk watched her reaction as she read his report. “I understand, Andra -- and, I am so sorry.” He opened his arms to her, embraced her and caressed her hair. “An artificially-created person ... crafted to be recognizable on sight ... specially trained and conditioned... You know I hate the genetic counselors and the finishing schools -- the institutions that created you. You know how happy I am you escaped that system.”

  She sniffed. “I know. It's what I couldn't reconcile. How couldn't you see?”

  “The fact that good can come from an institution doesn't excuse the institution itself. It must be moral, standing on its own. Ax'amfinen and novonids are two faces of the same evil. I don't know how I was so blind.”

  “I saw,” she replied. “I saw from the first. I know how to read people, Nyk. I saw the oppression on their faces. The young man in Ogan's office, the street workers ... even Laida. You can read the same thing in every one of the faces in the finishing schools. Why couldn't you see it? It is such a short step from an ax'amfin assignment to enslavement.”

  “Why indeed... Your insight in such was the very reason I insisted you come along -- and I ignored it.”

  “That night Laida took us to her home. Didn't you see it? She began to regard us as peers -- as friends -- instead of masters. Didn't you see how she blossomed?”

  “I see it now. Destiny sent Laida to us to open our eyes.”

  “Will you stop it with your Destiny nonsense? Maybe YOUR eyes needed opening.”

  “They are uncovered, now. I put it all in this report.”

  “Oh, Nyk...” She peppered his face with kisses. “Will you really send this to Kronta?”

  “It is on its way to the Secretary's desk as we speak.” He took his handheld from her. “It was a productive night. I need to be kicked out of bed more often...” He poked the screen. “After I finished my missive, I worked on this... ” He held up his handheld. “Floran version...” He pointed to the media screen. “Varadan version. I also passed these to Kronta in the wee hours. He got them fast-tracked to the office of the chairman of the High Legislature's Subcommittee on Colonial Security, who obtained approval from the Secretary.”

  “You went over Tomyka's head.” Andra put her arms around his neck and kissed his lips. “She'll be furious.”

  “I know. I can't wait. I decided it was high time to put an end to this diplomatic dithering.”

  11 -- Letter of Intent

  Nyk sat beside Andra at the conference table. Ogan walked in. “After our respite, are we ready to have at it again?”

  “Yes,” Nyk replied. “Before Envoy Wells arrives, Prefect, I would like to share with you an observation.”

  “Which is what?”

  “Prefect -- I spent the night before last and yesterday sharing the shelter of a novonid family. For me, it was an eye-opener. Of course, I have no way of knowing if what I saw was the norm for the urban cousins of your rural fieldworkers -- but I suspect it was. Tell me, Prefect? Why not show us novonids in their natural urban environment? Have you ever visited it yourself?”

  “Mr Kyhana...”

  “What I observed in my stay was a loving family -- a mother, a stepfather and a daughter. Their interactions were every bit as tender and giving toward each other as any human family I've known. More so, perhaps.

  “Prefect, I don't know if the statements you've made about their inferior intellectual capacity are officially-sanctioned fiction, national self-delusion or simple ignorance and prejudice. The people I met were perfectly capable of weighing facts and making decisions; and as fully aware of cause and effect as you or I. I watched the mother of this family teaching novonid children from the same ghetto household how to read and how to add and subtract. I watched as child after child stood and read aloud from a textbook; and then answered questions about what he had read.

  “If novonids believe they are inferior, it is only because they have been taught they're inferior. Sooner or later, they will discover they are NOT, Prefect. They are not only stronger and more robust than you or I, but at least as smart. They require a smaller standard of living. The bulk of their nourishment comes from the sun -- and, to date, no one has figured out how to put a meter on that. I suspect their biology is designed so the chloroplasts in their skin deliver energy on demand. I haven't seen a fat one among them.

  “And, Prefect, they are resourceful. That woman teaching the little ones lacked books, so she made her own out of scrap materials. When they become aware of their superiority -- watch out. The young woman who's your assistant told me she welcomed them filling the lowliest jobs. What happens when they learn they can do HER job, too -- at half the wages? In no time at all, one will be applying for YOURS, Prefect.

  “You have created a monster. I don't mean the novo hominid species. I know you consider them Varada's finest achievement. They are, and they are finer than you imagine. What I mean is your own society that smugly thinks it can get away with enslaving a superior people. This is a time bomb, Prefect. The clock on it is counting down, and the day of its detonation is closer than you think.”

  Nyk glanced toward Andra. She smiled and made a gesture imitating applause. Ogan sat slack-jawed.

  “I suppose there's no point in continuing these discussions, then,” the prefect finally said.

  “I don't have the authority to make that assessment. It lies with the envoy and her superiors. What I do have is the ear of an ExoService liaison, who in turn has the ear of the chairman for our subcommittee on colonial security. This chair has the ear of the Secretary for Colonial Affairs. I have already forwarded a report outlining my experiences to this liaison.

  “Prefect -- please don't take what I said in the wrong light. I meant it as friendly advice. You created these beings, and now they share this world with you. I think both species will benefit if you embrace them as partners. You a
re correct that I have limited experience with them. I do have direct experience living on a world that ... could also benefit from this sort of advice. I like your people, Prefect. I like the novonids. I welcome both of you as friends.”

  Ogan smiled. “Very good, Nykkyo. I welcome your friendship, also.”

  “One word of warning. If you believe you can deal with a novonid problem by exporting it -- you have another think coming. That is something we will not tolerate. My people are fully prepared to welcome them as peers, but NEVER as chattel. I have that from the very top, Prefect.”

  “Export? Where did you arrive at such a ludicrous assumption?”

  “It is the rumor circulating among the novonid community here in the capital. There are some in that ghetto who see our very presence onworld as proof the rumor is true.”

  “It is nonsense. Where did you see any mention of novonids in our agreement drafts?”

  “Nowhere, Prefect.”

  “Sending them offworld is an idea as repugnant to me as it is to you. You have my absolute assurance nothing of the sort is being planned.”

  “I'm pleased we see eye-to-eye, then Prefect.”

  Ogan checked his timepiece. “I wonder where the envoy is?”

  “We have all day,” Nyk replied.

  A chime sounded. “That must be her, now,” Ogan said and stepped to the door.

  Tomyka Wells stepped in and glowered at Nyk. “Have we recovered from our little bender?” she asked.

  “Before we start,” Nyk said, offering each phrase in both the Floran and Varadan tongues, “I have taken the liberty of reconciling the Floran and Varadan versions of this document. There really was little differing in them.” He set polysheets before them -- each presented the Letter of Intent in Floran on the left and Varadan on the right. “As I said, I have the ear of a liaison on a High Legislature subcommittee. I took the liberty of forwarding this document to him. He was able to use his influence to pass it by the appropriate minister, who has given preliminary approval. So, Prefect -- unless you find something objectionable -- we consider it a done deal.”

  Wells glowered at Nyk.

  “If you don't mind,” Ogan said, “I'd like my own translator to have a look at it.”

  “Certainly,” Nyk replied.

  Ogan picked up his copy and left the room.

  “Why, you little shit!” Wells exclaimed. “You went over my head. You and Kronta -- what a pair you make.”

  “Tomyka -- You may be able to milk this assignment. I have a job to do -- a job on Earth.”

  “Are you going to rub my nose in that, too?”

  “I've wasted ten days here already. I need to get home, and so does Andra. It seemed to me we were going around in circles for nothing.”

  “What do YOU know about diplomacy?”

  “Enough to stay away from it in the future. Andra and I can't wait to be back on board the 501 and headed home.”

  “Nykkyo, you and Andra must remain here. I have some follow-up meetings and I need an interpreter.”

  “Follow-up? Follow-up to what? My assignment was to help draft a Letter of Intent. The Letter of Intent has been drafted. My work here is done. If you have follow-on meetings, Tomyka -- you are on your own.”

  “The 501 broke orbit today,” Wells replied. “Your only way home IS on my courier.”

  “No, it didn't,” Andra interjected. “I was speaking to Zane today. There has been no clearance requested or granted to break orbit.”

  “Andra and I intend to be on that scout tomorrow, Tomyka. Once I'm back on Floran, they can map my brain for a Varadan language program. Then, you can subliminally train an army of interpreters for an army of envoys like yourself. I'm going home.”

  “You will regret this, Kyhana. Mark my words. When my report...”

  “Report whatever you want,” Nyk retorted. “Andra and I both have careers, and it's past time we return to our day jobs. We took this assignment as a favor to Illya. If you'd like -- I'll be happy to escalate your concerns to him for clarification.”

  Wells glowered at him.

  Ogan returned to the conference room. “Yes, this looks good.” Wells glowered again. “Let me present this to our affairs minister and I can have an answer this afternoon.”

  * * *

  Nyk sat beside Andra at a table in a private dining room. “I was proud of how you stood your ground with Tomyka today,” she whispered. “Imagine being stuck here for who-knows-how many more days and then riding home to Floran on her shuttle.”

  “There was a time in my career when I would've caved in to her request. I figured -- now I'm Assistant Agent-in-Chief for North American Operations. I don't have to take stuff from the likes of Tomyka Wells. To be safe, I bounced it off Kronta after our meeting with Ogan broke up.”

  “What did Kronta say?”

  “Illya agreed with me. We have what we came for. There's no reason for us to tag along with Tomyka while she attends soirees and shmoozes the locals. And, he told me he would reiterate his orders to Captain Hayt, using words of one syllable or less if necessary: The 501 is to bring us home.”

  “It leaves one bit of unfinished business,” she replied.

  “Laida. I still wonder if Ogan is involved with her disappearance. I'm going to try to slip in a question to him about her whereabouts. I want you to evaluate his reaction.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I don't know -- I'll have to wing it.”

  “Wing it?”

  “I'll know the moment when I see it.” Wells walked in and sat. “Cheer up, Tomyka,” Nyk said. “We got what we came for. Who cares if our visit is cut short?”

  “How little you know.”

  Prefect Ogan stepped into the room. “A job well done -- ample cause to celebrate. This restaurant is my favorite. It specializes in some of the exotic game and seafood found on this world.”

  “Exotic game and seafood?” Andra asked.

  “If the notion offends you, they do serve pomma...”

  “Prefect,” she interrupted him, “We were led to believe pomma is the only food...”

  “Oh, no,” he replied. “We would tire of it in no time. It IS the staple, but...”

  “'To tire of pomma is to tire of living.' You told us that yourself.”

  “Yes -- a Varadan aphorism. We also have another -- variety is the spice of life.”

  “It is the only thing we've been served.”

  “I was under the impression Florans were strict vegetarians. I gave orders...”

  “Not ALL Florans,” Andra replied.

  “I'm terribly sorry. If I had known...” A waiter wheeled in a cart carrying a pitcher. “Ah! I've ordered some pomma beer,” Ogan announced.

  “We've tried it,” Nyk replied. “It's very good.”

  The waiter poured glasses. “Let us drink to interplanetary friendship,” Ogan said and lifted his glass. “I should warn you -- it is Varadan custom -- when a toast is offered you must drain your glass.”

  Nyk held up his. “To interplanetary friendship,” Nyk repeated and chugged his.

  “What are you doing?” Andra whispered. “We'll get drunk.”

  “I hope so. Drink up.”

  Andra forced herself to empty hers. Ogan drained his. Tomyka sat with her arms folded. Ogan signaled the waiter to refill them.

  “To the Letter of Intent,” Nyk said and drained his second glass.

  “I feel it already,” Andra whispered. “I hope you don't think you can out-drink him. He's accustomed to this stuff and we aren't.”

  “Try to keep your wits,” Nyk replied. “One more should do. It's your turn to come up with a toast.”

  Andra looked upward, then lifted her glass. “To pomma!” she exclaimed.

  “To pomma,” Ogan replied and drained his glass.

  “Your turn,” Nyk said to Tomyka.

  “Leave me out of this silly game.”

  Nyk forced himself to fight the effects of the alcohol. “Prefect,”
he said. “Would you do us a favor?”

  “Well ... that depends.”

  “A novonid girl -- young woman, actually -- who served us at the guest house has gone missing.”

  “That's too bad.”

  “I understand law enforcement falls under your domain of responsibility.” Nyk glanced toward Andra and saw her nodding off. He nudged her under the table. She shook her head and looked up. “If your officers should come across her, have them thank her for us -- for taking such good care of us.”

  “Yes? Certainly. How is she known?”

  “She's known as Laida -- or , Three-eight-six.”

  “Three-eight-six... I'll remember that, and keep an eye out.”

  “Thank you, Prefect.”

  “What are you talking about?” Wells asked.

  “I was merely asking Prefect to try to locate a friend of ours -- a Varadan friend.” Nyk glanced at Andra. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Prefect -- is there a lavatory near by?”

  “Through the door to the left.”

  Nyk watched her walk out the door and thought she look unsteady on her feet. “I'd better make sure she's all right.” He stepped into a unisex restroom and saw the soles of her sandals from under a stall door. “Andra?”

  He approached her. “Andra? Are you all right?”

  She was kneeling over one of the toilets, her arms crossed across the bowl and forehead resting on her wrists. “I will be, now that I've thrown up all that beer -- plus some pomma pancakes I had for breakfast two days ago.”

  “Was this your first experience with alcohol?” he asked.

  “And, my last... How can you handle that stuff?” She turned her face into the bowl and retched. “Nyk, I really don't need any help, here ... excuse me...” She vomited into the toilet.

  He crouched and caressed her back. “I'll admit I feel a little green around the gills, myself. Suki's dad used to get me drinking sake and it gave me a similar sensation in my stomach.”

  “Mine felt like it was on fire.” She sat back on her heels. “I think I'm done. I'm glad I vomited. I was on my way to being very inebriated otherwise.”