by S. H. Jucha
“Yes, Minister,” the captains chorused.
“I’m concerned about the difference between your views of the final events at FYM-552 and those of the Omnians, and, I should tell you, I trust their opinions far more than the two of yours. My question to each of you is this: Did you or didn’t you do right by your crews? Fillister, I’ll start with you.”
“I saved my crew and ship, Minister Gonzalez, and I don’t regret that. I don’t understand why Admiral Tripping put us in that untenable situation. But, it made me realize one thing. While I love these ships, the Tridents, I’m not cut out to be a war captain.”
“Admiral Tachenko, how would you rate Captain Fillister?”
“Superior,” Tatia replied, staring quietly at Bart, who nodded his acceptance of the compliment.
“Hmm,” replied Maria, taking time to consider Tatia’s answer. Then her eyes speared Captain Jagielski.
It occurred to Alphons that the minister’s civilian clothes were a disguise. Underneath them, she was entirely an ex-TSF general.
“Let’s try the same question on you, Captain Jagielski,” Maria said.
“Permission to speak plainly, Minister,” Alphons replied.
“Among this group,” Maria replied, sweeping her arm around the room, “that will always be the case.”
“The appointment of Admiral Tripping was a terrible mistake. He wasn’t qualified on a Trident, and he wasn’t qualified to command a warship squadron. If I had the choice of serving under his kind again or jockeying a desk, please point out my admin chair.”
“Well, Captain, I can set your mind at ease on that point,” Harold interjected. “The Omnians have made it clear that, in the future, any of our naval officers who sail with them and are to hold a rank higher than captain must meet their approval.”
“Most appropriate, Alex, Admiral,” Alphons replied, and Bart tipped his head twice to add his approval.
“Continue, Captain Jagielski,” Maria ordered.
“Do I regret not following Admiral Tripping? No, not really. I lament the loss of the New Terrans, many of them friends, who were aboard his ship. I keep wondering what I could have done differently.”
“That’s the terrible price of command, Captain,” Maria replied. “If you had the opportunity to sail with the Omnians again, would you take it?”
Alphons looked hopefully at Tatia and Alex, but he couldn’t read anything in their expressions, neither encouragement nor dismissal.
“If they allowed it, I’d serve,” Alphons said firmly.
“And whose orders would you ultimately follow, Captain?” Maria asked.
“Those would be the orders of my squadron commander, as long as they didn’t contradict the fleet’s Omnian commander,” Alphons replied.
Maria glanced at Alex, who said, “An acceptable answer.”
“Captains,” Maria said, “I have the authority to ignore the Board’s recommendations that you be removed from command and given administrative positions. Those who haven’t been in a fight have no idea what it takes to survive one. Captain Fillister, I appreciate your honest appraisal. How would you feel about training newly appointed Trident captains?”
“Could you be more specific, Minister?” Bart requested.
“At this time, we’re turning a Trident out every three to four months. I need someone to bring new captains quickly up to speed on these ships and teach them basic squadron maneuvers in the Omnian style. That includes command methodology, SADE communications, ship controllers, and all.”
“I’m your man, Minister,” Bart exclaimed.
“I appreciate the offer, Captain, but you’re a little young for me,” Maria quipped, smiling.
Bart blushed and attempted to stammer a response, but Maria held up a hand to forestall him. “With what the Omnians are discovering, the future promises to be a hard road,” Maria added. “Don’t lose your sense of humor, Captain.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Bart replied, returning Maria’s smile.
“And, as for you, Captain Jagielski, I’m returning you to duty, as the captain of the Arthur McMorris. That ship, for its namesake, needs the best we have to offer.”
“Thank you, Minister,” Alphons replied, his shoulders straightening.
“Don’t thank me yet, Captain,” Maria replied. “You’re going to be a busy man. You have two weeks to evaluate the group of potential captain appointees with Captain Fillister and send me your recommendations for the three available Tridents.”
“Two weeks, yes, Ma’am,” Alphons affirmed.
“When those captains are in place, you’ll be promoted to senior captain, which the Omnians have already approved,” Maria said.
Alphons looked across the table at Alex and Tatia. They were grinning now, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.
“Now, mind what I say, Captains. Vet these people carefully. We’re not looking for people who are good at sailing ships around the system and keeping their crews happy. We’re looking for individuals who aren’t afraid to join the fight that the Omnians tell us is coming. Understand me?”
“Yes, Minister,” Alphons and Bart replied.
“Your orders will be in your readers this afternoon. One last item, Captains, New Terra’s Trident defense force is a new entity that reports to me. It’s separate from all existing naval operations. Dismissed,” Maria said.
When the captains left the room, the leaders regarded one another.
“A long road,” Tatia said, echoing Maria’s words.
* * *
Alex asked Svetlana to apologize to the crew, but he needed some time with Maria Gonzalez, now that she’d been appointed Minister of Defense.
Alex and Renée, along with others, were hosted at Maria’s home.
“You can walk in the forest again, Renée,” Maria said, when Alex and his people arrived. “That nest of biters is gone.”
“Gone where?” Renée asked with concern.
“Permanently gone,” Maria replied, laughing and throwing an arm around the slender Omnian, who she considered a daughter, as they walked into the house.
After an exceptional midday meal on which every human complimented Maria, she said, “Now, I know this group, with your capabilities, has detected Oliver in my house, but I have a surprise for you. Julien, would you request Oliver’s presence?>
Oliver joined the group at the table, and Alex took note of where the SADE stood. It was close to Maria, perhaps a little protective of her.
“While Oliver and I worked together, we grew attached to each other. When his contract with our government ended, he was loath to return to the Confederation, and I was sorry to see him leave. So, we struck a bargain,” Maria explained.
“I have this domicile,” Oliver said, indicating the house with a wave of his arm, “a place from which to work and the company of a friend.”
“Are you happy?” Alex asked, testing Oliver’s progress.
There was the slightest of pauses before Oliver replied, “I am content, Ser.”
“A good place to be,” Julien commented.
“Oliver, my guests were raving about the food. I thought you would like to know,” Maria said.
“You cooked the food, Oliver?” Renée asked.
“In a manner of speaking, Ser. Maria obtained a set of dispensers, food stocks, and recipes for me from Haraken. However, I’ve been experimenting with native materials and creating new recipes.”
“Haraken-style dispensers have established a foothold in the food industry here,” Maria explained. “But, what’s propelling much of the new explosion is Oliver’s recipe books. He’s become extremely popular and is earning a substantial number of credits from sales,” Maria said proudly.
“Is that what you want to be, Oliver, a chef?”
“It’s an interesting pastime, Ser. However, my priorities will now shift to
supporting the minister in her new duties. That’s what will make me … more content,” Oliver replied, directing his gaze toward Alex.
* * *
Renée gazed at her hands. They were powerful. She held them away from her and saw her arms bulged with muscles. She was bewildered but not frightened. It was the familiarity of the limbs that prevented her fear, which might have awakened her from the dream. The realization intruded that what she was observing were Alex’s arms and hands, and she chuckled. I’m huge, she thought.
There was no sense of place, which confused Renée. She swiveled her head and saw nothing but emptiness. I’m floating in space, she thought. Tiny distant lights appeared. The more she stared at them, the more she saw … thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands … the harder she looked, the more lights appeared.
In this enormous span of space, the lights blinked. They didn’t blink as one, but individually. Each light pulsed with regularity but with an odd rhythm that didn’t resemble the twinkling of a star. That’s when Renée felt her body move, slowly at first, then faster and faster. She sped through the blackness, the lights streaming past her in a blur.
Then Renée abruptly stopped. There was no sense of deceleration. One moment, the distances between the blinking lights were crossed in mere ticks of time, as she zipped through the dark, and the next moment, she floated in place again, with no forward direction.
But something had changed. The tiny lights were to her left, right, above, below, and behind her. But they weren’t in front of her. Everywhere that Renée looked, the lights continued their incessant beating, but forward of her was pure blackness, no lights, nothing. She felt a sense of foreboding, anticipating that in front of her was an abyss that endangered her or that it was the deep dark that had sought her out.
An intense desire for preservation intruded on Renée’s subconscious, and she was shocked awake. Sitting up in bed, she gazed at Alex, whose eyes and limbs were twitching. Her anxiety subsided, replaced with sympathy. She realized her dream was that of her partner. It was a consequence of the frequent and intimate bonding of their implants.
Well, my love, if I must endure your dark dreams to enjoy what we have in bed, then it’s well worth it, Renée thought. She reached over and gently shook Alex until he mumbled, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, my love, or I was until I shared your dream,” Renée replied.
Alex groaned. “Apologies,” he said.
Renée laughed softly and leaned over to kiss his cheek, letting her lips linger. “Well, if nothing else, my love, yours are so much more interesting than mine.”
“Should I ask?” Alex inquired.
It fascinated both of them that Alex’s implants didn’t record what his subconscious created and Renée’s didn’t record what she received, even though the only way the dreams were transmitted was via an implant-to-implant connection. To add to the mystery, no one else received Alex’s broadcasts, despite the intensity of some of his dreams.
“It was an odd one,” Renée explained, sitting up. “I was you … in your body, I mean.”
“Massive weight gain,” Alex mumbled.
“Hush,” Renée replied, lightly thwacking his arm with her fingers. “I, we, were floating in space with stars all around us, except they weren’t like regular stars.”
“Why not?”
“Well, they didn’t twinkle. They pulsed, with these strange rhythms.”
“All in sync?”
“No, each light had its own rhythm.”
“Hmm,” Alex grunted.
“Then we started speeding past the lights.”
“Lights or stars?” Alex asked.
“How do I know? It wasn’t my dream,” Renée replied, tartly.
“True. Go ahead.”
“Anyway, we sped through the dark, the lights flashing past us. I got the feeling that we crossed a huge distance of space, and, then, all of a sudden, we came to a stop. And here’s where it got strange.”
“You’re in my body, floating in space, and surrounded by oddly pulsing stars, and that isn’t weird?” Alex asked.
“You’ll pay later for interrupting my story, Ser,” Renée warned.
“Apologies, my delectable partner, please continue,” Alex replied in a conciliatory manner, while working to maintain a straight face.
“After speeding through the dark, we stopped, instantly stopped,” Renée continued. “The lights were around much of us but not in front. It was like we were embedded in the middle of a vast wall. Beside and behind us were lights but in front of us, nothing. The universe was divided into lights and no lights. The dark that was ahead of me scared me so much that I woke up.”
“Apologies, again, my love,” Alex said, pulling Renée to him. He hated that he wasn’t in control of this aspect of his implants, worse, that it impinged on Renée’s sleep.
“Listen to me, Alex,” Renée said, pushing away and taking Alex’s face in her hands. “There was something different about this dream. Normally, they’re a chaotic collection of imagery, which I can usually ignore, but this one was clear. Most important, it was coherent. It told a story.”
Renée’s eyes intently held Alex’s. He might have dismissed her tale of the dream, except that she wasn’t willing to take it so lightly.
“A regular or rhythmic pulsing,” Alex repeated.
“Yes,” Renée replied, pleased that Alex was focusing on the dream.
“And we came to a place where space was separated into pulsing and nonpulsing stars.”
“Lights,” Renée corrected, but it didn’t appear that Alex heard her. She heard him groan, a deep, strong sound that was usually reserved for a self-deprecating moment when someone realizes his stupidity. Before Renée could ask, Alex grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her, deep and warm. He leapt out of bed and ran toward the bedroom’s door. “Clothes, my love,” Renée yelled out in time.
Julien politely ended his conversation with Oliver, sending,
The request gave Julien a moment of pause. He didn’t want to disturb the camaraderie of his late-night conversations with Alex, but he considered the request from his friend’s perspective. Alex would be generous.
As Alex came through the front door, he saw both SADEs and glanced quickly at Julien.
“Welcome, Oliver,” Alex said. “You may observe, but this conversation will take place solely between Julien and me, unless you’re invited.”
“Understood, Alex,” Oliver replied. “Thank you for allowing me to witness the exchange.”
“One other point, Oliver, this data is to be permanently secured. Only you may ever have access to it.”
“Also understood, Ser,” Oliver replied, setting the parameters on the data folder where the conversation would be stored.
Alex leaned back in a comfortable porch chair and stared out at the night. He’d always enjoyed the woods, the sights, the smells, and the animals. They were such a contrast to
space, where he’d spent most of his life. When he was ready, he recited the dream sequence to Julien, as Renée related it to him.
Oliver was transfixed by the idea that Alex could dream, and Renée could receive the dream. This was an aspect of human implant exchange that he couldn’t have imagined and that fascinated him.
“I find the aspect of rhythmic pulsing a key indicator,” Julien said, when Alex finished.
“Me too. I’m thinking probes,” Alex replied.
“That was my thought,” Julien replied. “It seems your subconscious is indicating that we should map the probe signals that we’ve discovered over the star positions. Then, we could add the vectors of the spheres’ travels. This plotting might indicate the path of the Nua’ll expansion.”
“There is the possibility that we come up with blank areas. In those areas, the probes might be too faint to read or were destroyed by natural accidents. Then again, maybe the Nua’ll chose not to expand in those particular directions,” Alex postulated.
“I would think those options would have limited probabilities, based on the data we’ve collected so far,” Julien replied.
“Hmm, so you’ve not considered the idea that there are races out there that the Nua’ll fear or a group of intelligent species who are cooperating and destroying probes, as they enter their territories. All these would be ancient races that would have been in conflict with the Nua’ll before humankind walked upright.”
Julien focused on Alex, while he reordered several indices, expanding the possibilities, as Alex had suggested. He had dwelt on the data surrounding the Nua’ll, building schema about the species, their technology, their habits, and their probable actions. What he hadn’t done was step back and imagine the universe that the Nua’ll inhabited and postulate who else might be out there.
“My question, Julien, is: Do we have sufficient, sophisticated, and powerful enough telemetry capabilities in our warships to map that far out in front of us to detect the probes to the degree we’ve been discussing?”
“No, Alex, we would need the help of —”
“Willem,” Alex and Julien said simultaneously, and laughed.
“But is he out and about aboard the Sojourn?” Alex asked.