by S. H. Jucha
Alex saw the queen’s eyes light up, and he grinned at her.
Nyslara watched Dassata bare his teeth wide at her, and she huffed in reply, and then opened her jaw and curled her lips away. If Dassata wanted to compare teeth, she would show him a Dischnya’s formidable set. She added her own chortle to let him know she was adopting his Haraken habit. Dassata clapped his hands and the boom from both his hands and voice were ear-splitting, and Nyslara couldn’t help joining him in celebration. They were two leaders solving problems together, a lost practice on Sawa Messa.
When Alex and the queen finished enjoying themselves, Xavier looked between the two of them and held up his hands, indicating that a little more information should be forthcoming.
Nyslara began a long conversation with Willem, outlining her idea.
“The queen says that she was impressed by your shuttles, as any Dischnya would be,” Willem said. “If Dassata would carry her emissaries to other nests, land, and let them deliver invitations to the queens to attend a Fissla, she is sure that the majority, if not all, would accept.”
“Yes,” Alex shouted enthusiastically, clapping his hands together again, the sound careening around the room, and held his arms wide.
The similarity of the extended arms to the Haraken’s gesture of surrender completely defeated Nyslara’s attempt to understand. “Is Dassata annoyed?” Nyslara asked anxiously of Willem.
“Your pardon, my queen, Dassata is overjoyed at the idea.”
Picking up on the queen’s confusion, Renée addressed Willem. “Please tell Nyslara that Dassata displays that mannerism when he’s most pleased by a person’s efforts. In his excitement, he typically would hug the individual,” and Renée pantomimed closing her arms tightly.
The translation produced a growl from Nyslara, and not a friendly one.
-20-
Queens’ Invitations
The Tawas Soma lookouts reported to the wasat that a Haraken ship was landing near the meeting site. While they waited for Pussiro’s arrival, they were astounded to see their queen exit the shuttle, which immediately departed.
As Pussiro jogged toward the lookout post, he was joined by a sub-commander, who relayed the warrior’s update. In response to Pussiro’s order, the sub-commander commed the queen’s attendant, Cysmana, requesting she fetch the queen’s cape and headdress, and tell her a warrior would guide her to the lookout.
Nyslara felt exposed, walking in the open without escorts or feedwa, but she strode resolutely toward the nearest lookout post. In the distance, she saw the hatch pop open. Two warriors jumped out and ducked their heads in greeting. Before Nyslara could wonder why they didn’t race to her side, Pussiro leapt out from behind them, and he raced across the ground, closing the distance to her in no time. He skidded to a stop in front of her, dipping his head in obeisance.
“You’ve returned, my queen,” Pussiro said in amazement.
“You’re not normally prone to stating the obvious, Pussiro,” Nyslara said, but she cuffed his muzzle softly, which brought his head up sharply. “Come. I have much to tell you, and then you and I have much to do.” The two of them walked side by side back to the lookout post and through the tunnels, headed toward her rooms. Along the way, the soma, surprised by Nyslara’s return, chuffed at her, sounding their pleasure at her safe return.
“You faced a ceena,” Pussiro said, when Nyslara spoke of the meeting on the shore, amazed that the queen survived.
“Three of them, Commander,” Nyslara replied. “And I can’t tell you which left a greater impression on me … their enormous size or their intelligence. I was provided with a translation of the conversation. What the leader, Wave Skimmer, wanted most of all for his people, which he called a hive, was their safety. The assembled leaders have accepted a proposal of sorts that protection will be provided for them. It’s complicated and involves Zhinni, but that explanation can wait.”
“Protection for the ceena?” Pussiro asked.
“Their name is Swei Swee,” Nyslara said, but it came out more like a pair of short whistles than words.
“Appropriate,” Pussiro commented, comparing the sound to the manner in which the ceena communicated.
“You wouldn’t believe who the Swei Swee revere.”
“Dassata?”
“Certainly, he’s respected. It’s known by his soma and was communicated to the local Swei Swee that he freed many of the hives through the destruction of a giant sphere and lent them sanctuary on his home planet.”
Pussiro stopped dead in his tracks, his great claws seeking purchase on the tunnel’s hardened floor. “You spoke of the sphere to the Harakens?” he asked.
“I didn’t. The time was not appropriate. It might become so later.”
“You were speaking of the Swei Swee’s admiration,” Pussiro reminded Nyslara.
“Yes. It’s Zhinni.”
“Our Zhinni … the little female with the topknot the color of Nessila?”
“Do we know of another, Commander?” Nyslara replied, the skin surrounding her muzzle rippling. Her world had been turned upside down by the aliens’ arrival. One moment she was prepared to defend her nest to the bitter end, and the next she was offering herself in exchange for her soma’s lives. Then, much to her great surprise and relief, neither Dassata nor the Swei Swee accepted her offer of sacrifice. Now, once again, she was walking beside Pussiro. That in itself was pure pleasure — she had missed him terribly.
Nyslara knew she had an opportunity to unite the queens in peace, and, better than that, it might provide the means by which the Dischnya of Sawa Messa might rise again into a developed society, conditional, of course, on receiving the Haraken’s help. Have no fear, Dassata, I want your goodwill, as much as you want mine, she thought.
“Why is Zhinni favored?” Pussiro asked, after he’d digested Nyslara’s comment.
“Fellum says she’s known by the Swei Swee on her home world as Little Singer.”
“But would the ceena on Sawa Messa know this?”
“According to Fellum, the Swei Swee of our waters knew of her capabilities by the sounds of Zhinni’s whistles. She’s a perfect imitator of their hives’ singers.”
“Why would they honor an alien over their own singers, my queen?”
This time, it was Nyslara, who halted to regard Pussiro. Three days in the company of the Haraken aliens had drastically altered her perspectives. But Nyslara realized that if her commander’s point of view hadn’t shifted, then certainly her soma’s perceptions wouldn’t have either. It gave her an idea of the impediments facing her to successfully form a Fissla.
Pussiro saw the frown form on his queen’s brow. During the long walk to her rooms, he’d detected subtle changes in her, some good and some odd. She was calmer, mellower than he’d ever seen her. The cuff on his muzzle was one indication. But, more important, she was less dictatorial and much more thoughtful. Now she waited for him to act in the same manner.
The first image that came to Pussiro’s mind was the pile of steaming ceena legs served to Nyslara as a delicacy. Others were the ceena hunters’ reports of lives lost, and their strange stories of the whistles and warbles from dying ceena — young, females, and males. He shuddered and fur rose along his entire body.
“Yes, Commander,” Nyslara huffed softly, taking in Pussiro’s reaction. “We’ve been hunting, killing, and feeding on an intelligent race, which had done no harm to us before we attacked them and drove their entire race into the great waters.”
“If I stood in Dassata’s place and knew what he knew, I might burn every Dischnya nest into an empty, black hole,” Pussiro said, and he shook his head, trying to clear it of the Swei Swee images he’d called forth.
“Then we’re fortunate that this alien is a wiser leader than you or me, Commander.”
Nyslara’s attendant, Cysmana, met her in the tunnel, holding out her royal robe
to her, but Nyslara waved her off. The female’s confusion was displayed in her face and body. Nonetheless, she fell in behind her queen and wasat, carrying the robe in front of her as if it was a stately object, belonging to the nest, whether Nyslara wore it or not.
Pussiro halted again, as a disturbing question occurred him. “If Dassata is as informed as you say, then why did he release you, my queen? Not that I’m not pleased to see your return … for the soma’s sake, of course.”
Nyslara glanced down. When Pussiro was embarrassed or otherwise attempting to disguise his feelings, the primary great claw on his right foot rose, as if the effort could hide his emotions. It stood upright. So you’re personally pleased by my return, Nyslara thought, and more than just a little. “We’re going to summon a Fissla, Commander.”
“My queen —”
“Pussiro, we’re never going to reach my rooms if you keep halting our progress,” Nyslara teased. “Never fear, there is a plan in the works. We’ll be working with Dassata.”
Nyslara strode on, and Cysmana glanced up at the wasat, who was rooted in place, bewildered and uncertain. Then she hurried after her queen.
* * *
It took a significant effort on the part of the Harakens to coordinate the emissaries’ dispersal operation. The ships in orbit carried a total of ten travelers, but the captains and security voted heavily for risking only part of them on the ground at once. No one knew what the reception would be for each ship as it touched down at six, seven, or more nests.
Willem added a piece of logic to the planning stage, stating that each emissary would need to be accompanied by a SADE to manage translation. “While many of you carry my dictionary in your implant, I carry a significant amount of data pertaining to conversational circumstances, interpretational conjectures, and other ancillary information,” Willem said. “Only a SADE can carry that much data and make use of it when translations with the Dischnya get stretched thin. I recommend six travelers and six SADEs.”
“Who would be the sixth after Julien, Cordelia, Z, Miranda, and you?” Alex asked.
“Rosette,” Willem replied, looking at Asu.
“Why not any of the others who’ve accompanied us?” Alex asked. He knew the answer, but Asu needed to hear it from a SADE. The captain was quite protective of Rosette, as she was of him.
“Our appearance, to a great degree, Ser. The six of us are not easily distinguishable from humans in our usual avatars,” Willem replied, but he glanced at Z, who still wore his Cedric suit.
“I’m sure the Dischnya will simply mistake me for Dassata’s older and heavier brother,” Z riposted.
“Much older,” remarked Julien.
“And much heavier,” added Cordelia.
Alex, the only one who maintained a constant link and secondary conversation level with the SADEs during the planning meeting, enjoyed sitting on the sideline as a visual war broke out with Z and Miranda pitching images against Julien and Cordelia, who responded in kind. It was over in a few ticks, but hundreds of static images and short vids flew between them in that tiny breadth of time.
“Asu, if either Rosette or you are against this, I will understand,” Alex said gently.
“It’s her decision, Alex,” Asu replied, but everyone could see he was uncomfortable with that statement.
“Security will be aboard every traveler,” Xavier said, “and I will be aboard whichever ship Rosette rides in, Asu.”
The Sojourn’s captain nodded his head in appreciation of the gesture.
“Rosette agrees,” Julien commented.
“Then it’s six each of travelers, emissaries, and SADEs,” Reiko announced.
“The emissaries’ reception at the first nests will be a strong indicator of the challenges that this operation might face,” Xavier said.
“And they’ll be in great danger,” Lieutenant Marie Soucis added, rubbing the shoulder that was wounded, despite the injury’s complete healing. Captain Escobar ordered her to remain aboard the Sojourn for this operation while he traveled planetside. As he phrased it, circumstances were too precarious to have both officers down below, at the same time. Marie was able to keep abreast of events, during her recuperation, by staying in communication with Rosette and receiving a full stream of Willem’s vid.
“But Nyslara’s Dischnya have acted as the queen’s messengers before,” Reiko objected.
“Who will be stepping out of alien ships, this time,” Xavier riposted.
“True,” Cordelia added. “Who’s to say that the lookouts won’t think that what they’re seeing before them isn’t an emissary but an apparition … an alien disguising itself as a queen’s messenger.
“It was tricky enough trying to guess the maneuvers of our enemy when they were human,” Reiko complained. “I don’t know how you people twist your minds to accommodate the machinations of aliens.” To which, the table responded by turning to regard Alex, many with grins on their faces, and he shrugged his shoulders in response.
“Great, we’re saying we have only the one alien expert. But what about the SADEs?” Reiko asked, glancing around the table.
“Don’t look at us,” Cordelia replied. “We were too busy celebrating having escaped certain destruction at the hands of the last group of aliens to think about the inconsistencies that Alex saw.”
“But, Julien, I heard that you agreed with Alex,” Reiko said.
“Yes, I did support his theory, even though I worried for his sanity, but the man saved my life. I owed him a certain amount of leeway.”
“Traitor,” Renée shouted good-naturedly, and Julien grinned at her.
“Okay, so one alien expert and a lot of believers. Sometimes, I think it would have been smarter, if not safer, to have stayed home.” When Franz threw Reiko a hurt look, she quickly added. “Except for you, my heart. You’re worth a trip across the galaxy.”
“Good save,” Renée commented, chuckling.
“Back to work, people,” Alex announced. “Nyslara said that she sends an emissary to each nest, and she estimates we’ll land at thirty-six or more nests. Each ship takes its load of emissaries, drops them, one at a time, at the assigned nests, and then returns to recover them in order.”
“What if the emissaries run into trouble?” Willem asked.
“And what could we do for them if they do?” Xavier replied.
It occurred to everyone that they would be safely ensconced inside their ships that could lift skyward at the slightest hint of danger. But once the queen’s messengers left the shuttles, they would be at the mercy of foreign nests, whose soma might be in a state of paranoia after sighting an alien ship landing in their territory.
“Is there nothing we can do to support them?” Marie asked. Silence greeted her question, and she shook her head in regret.
“Remember, Marie,” Alex said softly, “both we and our ships are alien. It’s Nyslara’s estimate that this is the only means by which we can gain the queens’ attention and impress on them the importance of attending the Fissla, and she knows these individuals best. We can only hope the emissaries will be a familiar enough sight, despite exiting our travelers, that the lookouts will hold fire and escort them to their queens.”
* * *
Franz, Svetlana, Orly, Verlan, and two other pilots set their travelers down in arcs on either side of a seventh shuttle at the usual meeting place outside the Tawas Soma nest.
Alex, Willem, and Z strode out to meet Nyslara and Pussiro, who hurried from a lookout post to join them.
“Dassata,” Nyslara greeted Alex, “we’re ready. I’ve prepared forty-two emissaries and believe the number will be sufficient.”
After Willem’s translation, which took some effort on his part, he relayed Alex’s instructions to divide the messengers among the six ships that he pointed out.
Pussiro barked a command and blue-and-white-masked warriors hurriedly climbed out of the tunnel entrance. As the emissaries reached Pussiro, he divided them into groups, as directed by Willem, o
rdering each to climb into the indicated shuttle. In no time at all, the last emissary disappeared into the sixth ship.
Alex sent privately to Willem.
Instead of a façade designed to fit tightly over the face, the emissary masks reached a good 30 centimeters above the crown of the head and dipped down into the chest, the blue and white alternating and jagged stripes creating a bizarre display.
“The Fissla will be joined in three cycles, Dassata, when Nessila is high overhead,” Nyslara said, dipping her head and striding back to her nest.
Pussiro nodded as well and seemed about to say something but changed his mind. Then he hurried after Nyslara’s retreating back.
“That was interesting,” Alex remarked.
“Yes, our commander seemed intent on expressing a thought,” Willem replied. “His body language was less hostile than usual, most relaxed.”
“Maybe he’s just happy to get his queen back. I know I would be,” Alex replied, smiling.
“I would be too,” Z added, thinking of Miranda.
* * *
Each pilot carried Nyslara’s layout of the nests, as she had laid it out on the Sojourn’s holo-vid and as originally reported to Pussiro and her by the emissaries. Alex divided up the thirty-six known locations among five of the pilots.
But it would be Svetlana’s job, piloting the sixth traveler, to scout the territories beyond the known nests and attempt to insert the emissaries. Willem rode with Svetlana to manage the translations with these messengers.
The pilots flew lofty arcs. They were ordered not to appear shooting low across the ground, frightening lookouts prematurely. So the pilots vaulted their travelers skyward and set down on a nest’s fringe, allowing the emissary to exit the craft, proceed 10 meters away from the ship, and halt. He would wait for a hatch to pop open and a warrior to gesture him forward. In the case that slugs were thrown the emissary’s way, his orders from the queen were to leap for the ship’s hatch.