by Fanpro
Ever since Bustoe had been sent to Arsenault's section, Takuda had been brewing his own morning beverage. He even looked forward to the task as one of those little things that let him slip from the prison of command to the freedom of domestic life. Now someone else was doing it for him again. It had to be one of the Tetatae. He rolled out of the cot and slipped his feet into his armored combat boots.
Crouched in the outer room was the Tetatae who had "adopted" the DEST commander. The figure was attentively watching the tiny personal cooker that each DEST member was issued. The glowing fuel tablet cast a blue-green light onto the creature's face. So intent was the Tetatae in waiting for the coffee to begin simmering, for the first, tiny bubbles to appear at the edges of the cup, that he was unaware of the presence of the master. Takuda stood silent and still, not wanting to break the concentration of the neophyte chef. Getting it just right was an almost religious stricture for Pita.
Seeing the first bubbles appear, Pita whisked the cup from the burner surface with an excited, happy gurgle. His sounds were immediately answered by others from beyond the blackout curtain. There were scurrying sounds, and then the tiny room was suddenly full of other Tetatae, all hopping and bobbing with excitement and happiness. The sound and movement stopped the moment they saw the DEST commander, however. With screeches of consternation, the horde of Tetatae scrambled backward through the curtain. Pita presented the cup of steaming coffee.
Takuda accepted the proffered mug and settled into one of the simple chairs that stood beside the equally simple desk. Both chairs and desk had been constructed for him by the Tetatae. He hadn't asked for them, just mentioned in passing one day that he hated the folding stool. That had been enough; the next day a chair and matching desk had appeared in the headquarters. They must have quizzed the other DEST members about the construction. The following day a second chair had appeared. The Tetatae were attentive to the desires of the commander, and equally attentive to the other humans.
They seemed to have no sense of hierarchy and command, treating all the humans the same—like gods. Each of the humans had started out as an object of fear, which then changed to nominal acceptance and tolerance. When the Locust 'Mechs had emerged from the DropShip, that attitude had changed to reverence; now the humans were literally objects of worship. All of them equally. The fact that Takuda was the commander was of no importance to the Tetatae. That he was a human was enough and all there was.
The business of equal worship bothered Takuda. Equality broke down the hierarchy of command, and the commander wondered if it was going to affect his ability to control his people in the future. The problem hadn't come up yet, but the future was unknown. He would have to watch the others.
The other humans had also acquired servants. At first a Tetatae would follow while one of the humans went about his duties. The little aliens were especially intrigued by the techs, who were able to open the skin of the great machines and dig through their innards. They had become disciples; more had followed. Now each of the humans had a personal entourage following him or her everywhere.
It had started with the Tetatae attending to their immediate needs, but it had become much more than that. Before long the Tetatae followers began rushing to serve the humans in every way. A human had only to make a chance remark and the little aliens would scurry to accomplish the mission. Takuda had once mentioned in passing that he liked the color and scent of the rose-hued drengkit flowers that grew near the command bunker. The following morning he awoke to find the surrounding area covered with arengkits that had been painstakingly transplanted during the night. It was too late to do anything about it now, but Takuda had been extra careful about casual comments after that.
Takuda's troops were not so delicate once they discovered their power over the aliens. Dana Lost was a particular offender. After being assigned a position among some large rocks on the edge of the forest, Lost had mentioned to his personal Tetatae that he didn't like having one particular, huge rock directly behind the position. When the Tetatae found that moving it was beyond his capabilities, he'd gone off to organize a large working party. After struggling with the outcropping for an entire day, the party had managed to remove the offending piece. No sooner was it done than Lost commented that he really would rather have it there after all. The Tetatae had organized a second working party and labored to put the outcropping back in place. They did such a fine job that not a trace remained of either the removal or replacement.
Lost had been just about to comment that, in reality, he would rather the rock were gone altogether when Swalen Horg, followed by his own entourage, happened on the scene. The encounter was not entirely a chance one, however. Horg had watched the removal of the rock and then its restoration. When it looked like Lost was about to have the Tetatae move the offending piece a second time, he'd decided to step in. Horg took Lost aside and mentioned in his normal, soft voice that it was not right to abuse the Tetatae's loyalty this way. Lost had rebuffed him, saying that it was fun to see the little beggars work. Horg had pointed out that if Lost continued, there might be serious repercussions. That wasn't exactly the word Horg had used, but he made it clear to Lost that behaving this way could lead to serious bodily harm. Lost had retired in a sulk, but the big rock stayed where it was.
Holly Goodall, the Locust 'Mech pilot, had come to Takuda with another problem. Like the rest of the DEST team, she had her following. Though she'd gone about her business as usual, it was becoming difficult to move the Locust from place to place because of the number of aliens who clustered around its feet. She'd mentioned the difficulty to Takuda, but that was the extent of it. Then one afternoon Goodall had come to Takuda followed by a Tetatae that was obviously an infant. Not just a juvenile, but a real infant. The little ball of fluff was probably no more than a year old.
"Sir," said Goodall, "I have become a mother. I had nothing to do with it, and I'm not really happy about it, but the Tetatae have decided that I should care for this child. What do I do now?"
Takuda was nonplussed. Nothing in his years within the ranks of the Draconis Combine military had prepared him for this. Members of the Combine military forces did reproduce; that was only natural. Commanders were trained to deal with such events. But when a human soldier had a child, everyone enjoyed a certain lead time in which to prepare for the event. To have someone simply hand over a child for adoption was not the part of the training, nor was dealing with an alien child. The Combine didn't deal with aliens; no one in the Inner Sphere ever had. Colonization usually meant the settlement of a planet by humans. Takuda considered the dilemma of involuntary motherhood to be beyond him. He took the question to Dakodo, Dokaepi, and Totito.
The shaman, tribal hetman, and Dakodo, who acted as the spokesman, met with Takuda in the latter's headquarters. Takuda explained the situation, beginning at the beginning and working up to the delivery of the child to Goodall. By the time the meeting took place, Emmerdean Knyte had also reported a child being "delivered" to his team. Both Goodall and Knyte were trying to handle the situation, but both wanted to be relieved of the responsibility. Takuda explained all this to the three Tetatae, who promised to take it to the full council and to the tribe.
But the Tetatae had problems of their own. The announcement of the new humans had spread through the woodland. Tetatae visiting from other bands had come calling to see with their own eyes. They had seen, talked, and departed. It was not long before the other tribes began to arrive, at first in small groups, with the most mobile and strongest among the early arrivals. Then had come the mass of the tribes, with hundreds of Tetatae now camped around the human position. By custom, the host tribe, that headed by Totito and Dokaepi, was required to provide food and shelter. It was a task well beyond their current capabilities.
When the council met to discuss the problem of the children, they invited Takuda to attend. That in itself was a signal honor. It would have been unusual enough for them to invite a Tetatae from another tribe to attend a counc
il; the presence of an alien was unheard of. The humans and Tetatae had cohabited the planet for five hundred years, but this was the first time a human had ever attended a Tetatae council.
Takuda went with the expectation that he would be asked to speak, that he would be questioned about why the humans were there. That did not happen. In fact, Takuda never said a word. It all devolved on how the Tetatae conducted their council meeting.
Because the event was one of great formality, the Tetatae's customary long orations became even lengthier than usual. The youngest member of the council, Põpae, was the first to speak. She outlined the traditions of the Tetatae from the very dawn of time. She spoke of the importance of the children of the Tetatae. She spoke of the importance of the education of the Tetatae. She spoke slowly so that Dakodo, who was translating for Takuda, would not fall behind. She spoke of the coming of the first humans five hundred years ago. She traced the development of that relationship stage by stage. She talked on and on.
Takuda found the history interesting if slightly long-winded, but it seemed interminable. He began to wonder when Põpae would get to the point, when she would arrive at the question at hand. Finally, after nearly four hours of straight talk, she mentioned the children and the humans. Then she sat down. Now, thought Takuda, they would ask for his opinion. But they didn't. Another Tetatae councilor rose and began to speak. He outlined the traditions of the Tetatae from the very dawn of time. He spoke of the importance of the children of the Tetatae. He spoke of the importance of the education of the Tetatae. He spoke slowly so that Dakodo would not fall behind in the translation. He spoke of the coming of the first humans five hundred years ago. He traced the development of that relationship stage by stage. He talked on and on.
Takuda began to lose it after an hour. At the end of two hours his eyelids were sagging. By the end of the third he was drowning in the talk. And still the second man went on. When that councilor was finally done, another rose in his place and began all over again.
Takuda was not well-versed enough in the history and traditions of the Tetatae to understand that each of the speakers was describing different incidents and different tribesmen. He nodded off. Even his bushido training could not keep him awake for the eighteen hours of talk. The Tetatae had the advantage. They could shut down half their bodies while the other half remained alert. They were built for just this kind of marathon. In the end they made no decision that Takuda could determine, yet Dakodo assured him that no more Tetatae children would be delivered for adoption. The aliens would still continue to revere the humans, however; there was no way to change that. Takuda stumbled back to the headquarters bunker and collapsed into a profound sleep.
35
Takuda awoke to find an unfamiliar civilian waiting for him in the outer room of the bunker. The man was dressed in a long, dark gown, but was unadorned except for a five-petalled lotus pendant hanging from a massive iron chain around his neck. The petals were of different colors: pale white, clear, turquoise, iridescent, and one that glowed softly in the dim light of the underground bunker. The man bowed and introduced himself. "I am Hushiko Miburi. I am a resident of Amatukaze. Some among us have learned of your presence and would like to hear what you have to say. We know what is happening on our small world, and there is much grief here. We seek to achieve a harmony that the current situation has disrupted. We want to see harmony reestablished."
Takuda gestured the man onto one of the chairs in the headquarters. He had three of them now, a third having appeared unbidden in the same way as had the first two. Takuda made a mental note to tell Pita that he had all the chairs he needed. Otherwise, there'd soon be so many he wouldn't have room to move in the small cavern. Two cups of coffee, the last ones from the emergency packets, were served by the little alien. Takuda waved the Tetatae away and faced his visitor.
"Hushiko Miburi, I appreciate that you have come such a great distance to see me. I too am interested in establishing harmony in this small portion of the world. I fear, however, that our ideas of harmony may differ. How can I help you?"
"There have been times of harmony in the history of the cities. Our beginnings were in great strife, and there was much death. Then that time passed and we began to understand that to kill each other was to destroy everything. We declared an end to war.
"That time continued for many generations. The small cities were established. We grew and We prospered. Over the years, over the generations, over the centuries, we grew stronger and more secure. There were divisions among the clans, but mutual need kept these in check. There were always those who sought to destroy the harmony, but they were kept in their place.
"It is that attempt at harmony that you see when the guntai face each other. Long ago we abandoned the terrible weapons of the past. Some survived, like those you see driven across the fields. But they are our champions.
"No group could totally subjugate the other, no one win a war, and so the battles continued. The forces of the designated cities would meet on the field. The champions would face each other. There would be battle. Honor would be served; farmland, mines, forests would change hands, but the basic harmony between the three cities was not disturbed.
"Now the Usugumo have obtained weapons even more powerful than the ones we had in the far past. We once had knowledge of such weapons, but it has passed into the realm of legend. We know about them, but we no longer understand their use. And now people will die on the field. It will be more than the champions. There will be a violation of the harmony that held our small world in balance. This will be very bad. I come to you, sent by some of my friends, to see if harmony can be restored."
Takuda listened in silence as Hushiko Miburi explained the situation. "I understand the necessity of harmony, and I understand that the Usugumo have obtained a weapon system that will destroy the balance of power, but I do not understand how my intervention will restore that harmony," he said.
Miburi pressed his fingertips together over the untouched cup of coffee. "We have been led to believe that you possess weapons equal to or superior to those of the Usugumo. We know that you have been attacked, that you have won the battles. Perhaps you could use those weapons against those of the Usugumo to redress the balance. All harmony is balance, a balance between the good and evil that begets harmony. Those who travel too far to one side or the other, either for good or for ill, will upset the harmony of the situation. The forces of the Usugumo are now in the hands of those who could bring evil, even chaos. You have the power to tip the scales back toward the center."
"Would it not be better to end all this?" asked Takuda. He eyed the slowly cooling cup of coffee in the hands of his visitor. It was the last cup that would ever be available. If his guest didn't want it, he hoped to find a way to preserve it for some future time. His harmony would be terribly upset if the cup were taken away and the liquid discarded.
"There is no reason," continued Takuda, "why this divisiveness should continue. You can settle any disputes you have. You need not do it with force. Renounce your weapons. If there are those within your cities who need the excitement, the adventure, that war provides, let them instead use that energy to explore and develop the land. There is so much land.
"When the conflicts have been settled, we can establish a formal society, as envisioned by our common ancestors. We can go back to the ideals of the great founder of House Kurita. We can return to the dream of Shiro Kurita. Then shall we know harmony."
Hushiko smiled at the naive gentleman who sat across the table. "We had problems before you arrived, Yubari Takuda, and we will have them after you and I are dead and gone. We had problems and yet we had harmony. But they were our problems. It is you who have arrived to upset the harmony of our lives. It should be your responsibility to redress the situation. You can restore the system to what it was. You are obliged to do so. Take your forces and strike at those of the Usugumo."
"But there is a better way. We can move the situation into the future rather than the pa
st. Why should you return to the bad times when good days can be ahead of us?"
"It is only you who see them as bad times. Few among us would agree. It is the future that appears as a time of trouble, and the future is something that you can set right."
Takuda saw that he could say no more to the visitor from the Amatukaze. Miburi did not see the possibilities. He bid the man farewell, then sat down to contemplate the situation. At least the coffee was still there. Cold but still there. Takuda sipped slowly at the dark brew, savoring the taste even more because it was the last.
There had to be other people within the enclaves who could see a future not dominated by the past. Takuda would have to send out additional patrols to find them. And if they should seek him out, he would be easy to find. The Tetatae were beginning to congregate in greater and greater numbers, the DEST members acquiring more and more followers among the aliens. Even Takuda, who tried to discourage them, had numerous Tetatae following his wake. And still they kept coming. Takuda could not make the Tetatae stop treating them as demigods, and most of his people had given up trying.
The commander's concentration was broken when Pita came into the room to indicate that another person was waiting to see him. Pita had not learned many words in the language of the humans: coffee, chair, and visitor were his big ones. Now he eyed the last of the coffee, wondering what he would serve to this next strange human who sought to speak with his leader. Takuda nodded assent, and Pita went to fetch the man.
The visitor, announced by Pita as Toge Omori, stepped through the curtain and examined the room and its contents. His face was impassive, but his eyes showed clearly that he didn't approve of the spartan furnishings. This was a man who was used to being in charge, used to being taken care of. He waited expectantiy.