“Maybe he didn’t want to know. Or, maybe he knew and just continued lying to himself.”
“Maybe,” said Pettigrew. “I’m just hoping he can dodge a court-martial on medical grounds. Then, maybe he can get some help to find peace and get on with his life.” He paused as another of the crew walked by. “I just can’t shake the feeling that I failed him as his commanding officer, and that maybe in some way, we all did. Frankly, the entire space force failed him. There was no way he should have been promoted to this position in the first place. Classic institutional behavior—if there’s a problem, pass it on.”
Adams wanted to argue that Charles Pettigrew had not failed Knox, but she knew it would be useless. Besides, if he wasn’t correct about himself letting Knox down, he certainly was right about the rest of it.
The captain’s expression lightened and he patted her on the arm. “Anyway, let’s get to the shuttlebay and welcome our VIPs aboard.”
They arrived to find Commander Mullenhoff waiting for them, noticeably unhappy as she fussed with her uniform. Pettigrew had insisted that he and his senior officers wear their full dress uniforms for the occasion. After the connector tube to the shuttle was extended and sealed, Lieutenant Cruz ordered his Marine honor guard into position. It wasn’t every day that Tempest welcomed foreign dignitaries, but Cruz’s Marines showed good ceremonial form.
Governor Goran bounded off the shuttle wearing his customary broad smile. Looking somewhat perplexed by the welcoming ceremony, he simply grinned and nodded his way to Pettigrew, who shook his hand and introduced his officers. Behind Goran, Fleetmaster Balasi appeared less cheerful than his governor did, but more pleasant than he had been in previous dealings.
As Pettigrew watched Carr and Sanchez disembark from the shuttlecraft, big smiles broke over both men’s faces. After handshakes and a backslapping hug, Carr made a gesture toward Pettigrew’s uniform.
“Full dress unis. You all look like you’re getting ready for a parade.”
“At least we know how to dress properly in the space force, unlike you army apes.”
“I take it you two are old friends,” said Sanchez.
“That’s right,” Pettigrew said, turning to Adams and Mullenhoff. “This is the guy that fixes me up with all my old music and stuff.”
Carr turned the palms of his hands upward and shrugged. “What can I say? He pays me well to send the stuff to him.”
Mullenhoff snickered. “Can we pay you to stop sending it?”
* * * *
Carr was put up in the XO’s quarters, which was convenient since the room was obviously vacant at the moment. He quickly got the feeling that nobody wanted to talk about why Adams wasn’t staying there and why the nameplate on the door read “Commander Knox.” When he asked if Knox had been wounded or killed in action, he was assured that wasn’t the case, but he also sensed that he shouldn’t inquire further. Sanchez would share quarters with Mullenhoff tonight, then move into the VIP cabin after Goran returned to the planet tomorrow.
That evening Tempest staged a dinner to celebrate the beginning of friendship between the Sarissans and the Earth settlers. Another shuttle arrived from the surface carrying Dr. Devi and some friends. Governor Goran had invited Korab and his family, who arrived looking dressed more for a coronation than a dinner. Young Penna and Marton were particularly excited for the trip into outer space. Goran had reached out to the Underground leader since taking power. He declared a general amnesty for Korab’s people and hoped to include some of them in his new administration.
Also along was Voss, whose leg seemed to be doing much better. As one of the many new initiatives Goran had introduced over the last few days, he decreed that all Bakkoans were to adopt two names, as was the style in Renaissance Sector culture. He even requested that Tempest supply a database of common names in order to help Earthers make their choices. Voss was one of the first people in the settlement to add a second name, and he proudly introduced himself to the Union officers as Voss Mumphrey.
The final member of the visiting party was Dezrin. It was a small experiment, as well as a gamble. Would being on a spaceship awaken anything in her? Sanchez had accessed the Tempest database and determined that Dandi Quinn was the only child of deceased parents, and that her nearest living relative was an ex-husband who had remarried and was living on Odessa. The evening came and went and Dezrin seemed fine, so much so that Vesna commented on how happy she looked. Apparently, Dandi Quinn was dead, and Dezrin was with a family that would love and support her for the rest of her days.
Dinner went well. The neo-Earthers ate some food they had never experienced before, Sanchez gulped down what seemed like a dozen cups of coffee, and Governor Goran turned out to be quite the raconteur. He told jokes and stories and even did impressions of some of Bakkoa’s well-known citizens. At one point, the Governor had Voss laughing so hard that the big man had to leave the room to regain his composure.
The most poignant moment of the evening came when Pettigrew offered a toast. “To those on both sides who made the ultimate sacrifice five days ago. May our two peoples never have cause to shed blood again.” Then the captain turned toward Korab’s two youngsters. “And to Penna and Marton, and all the children of planet Earth, for today and the all days to come.” Carr thought that if Pettigrew ever wanted to go into the diplomatic corps, he would be a natural. He also knew something else about his friend: Chaz Pettigrew meant every word of it.
The evening wound down and everyone said their goodbyes in the shuttlebay. As she was about to board the shuttle, Dezrin gave Sanchez a hug, and then did something that took Etta by surprise. Before she turned to go, Dezrin squeezed Sanchez’s hand and gave her a wink. Maybe there was more of Dandi Quinn left than anyone suspected. Maybe she had found happiness and didn’t want to chance losing everything again by revealing too much of herself. Sanchez was going to tell Carr about the incident, but thought better of it. Let it be…
* * * *
Carr was just about to wash up and turn in when the cabin door chimed. It was Sanchez, with Governor Goran and two Tempest crewmembers. As Carr tried to make space for his guests to sit down, the crewmembers deposited a large container inside Carr’s quarters and left.
“Sorry about the lateness of the hour, Captain Carr. I won’t be staying, but I did want to get this to you,” said Goran, pointing toward the large box.
“What is it?”
Goran beamed. “Something Lord Governor Sheel once told me you had your eye on.”
Carr lifted the lid of the container and peeked in through the clear packing foam. It contained the Dragoneer Vase from the Otherverse’s Zhang Dynasty. It was the piece from the Governor’s office, the one he had questioned Sheel about the day of their first meeting.
“I want you to have it,” said Goran. “Consider it a gift from my people, for liberating us from the likes of Sheel and Haldryn.”
Carr looked hard at the container and then gestured toward it. “I can’t take this. It belongs in a museum.”
“You can and you will,” said Goran, switching from the meek, smiling bureaucrat to the overbearing politician. “It’s yours to do with as you wish. And now, I must get some sleep before our meeting tomorrow morning with Captain Pettigrew.”
Goran retired toward his quarters and left Carr and Sanchez staring at the container. “You know what this means?” said Sanchez as she opened up a cloth bag she had brought with her.
Carr was a little overwhelmed and not thinking straight. “What are you talking about? What does it mean?”
“How much do you think a priceless antique from another universe will fetch on the open market?” She reached into the bag and withdrew two rocks glasses and a small container of ice. “A colleague of Doctor Devi’s assures me that hypercarbon dating will not only confirm the age of the vase, but also that its subatomic structure is not from our universe. The news about what’s happened here at Earth will let you name your price for that vase. It should put quite a b
undle into Shannon Carr’s medical fund.”
He turned and hugged his colleague and friend, fighting back tears. “But it’s going to take another month to get home. Will she even be alive when I get back?”
“You told me she was stable and in medical stasis. She’ll be waiting for you, I’m sure of it.” They held an embrace for a few seconds and then she gently slid away. “But wait, there’s more.”
Reaching into her bag again, she produced a bottle of Old Oakfield. “Compliments of Chaz.”
“Chaz?” Carr repeated in an amused tone. “I noticed you two getting chummy at dinner, but I had no idea it had gone this far.”
She poured him a double over ice. “I like Pettigrew. He’s intelligent and cultured, and he’s very handsome.”
Carr took the drink from her hand. “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you—you’re not his type.”
She gave a small laugh as she finished pouring her own drink. “Am I your type?” she asked, biting her lower lip after the question came out. Carr experienced an adrenaline rush. Their usual banter didn’t work this way and he thought she was joking, but he wasn’t quite sure.
“You might be,” he said with a grin. There was an awkward silence in the cabin, with Sanchez staring at the floor and using her free hand to twirl her hair. He decided to shift the conversation. “What should we drink to?”
She smiled and held her drink high. “How about to Earth and second chances.”
“I can definitely drink to that,” he said as they clinked their glasses.
33: Three months…
The next morning after breakfast, a meeting was held in the main conference room aboard Tempest. “Good morning, you two,” Captain Pettigrew greeted the OMI operatives as they arrived. “Sleep well?”
“I slept great,” answered Carr. “Thanks for the use of your quarters,” he said to Adams, who uneasily nodded her head.
Sanchez poured a cup of coffee from the carafe on the sideboard. “I hope it’s not a military secret, but for anybody who’s interested, Commander Mullenhoff snores.” Pettigrew laughed, but XO Adams looked distressed, swiftly assuring Sanchez that she would be relocated into the VIP cabin later that day.
Carr and Sanchez sat down, joining the other three Union representatives on one side of the table. Opposite them were Governor Goran and Fleetmaster Balasi. Balasi had returned to Tempest aboard his shuttle that morning. He had absented himself from last evening’s dinner under orders from Goran. The Governor felt that Korab wouldn’t look kindly to dining with the man who had enticed his brother into becoming a traitor, and Balasi had to admit that it was probably wise for him to stay away.
Pettigrew cleared his throat and began. “You understand, Governor Goran, that this meeting is very unofficial. Admiral Sykes and Sixth Fleet will be arriving in Sol shortly, and even he will have to communicate with our leaders on Sarissa. The entire negotiation process will take months.”
Carr stirred. “I’m sorry, but what are we negotiating, and why are Sanchez and I here? We’re just lowly OMI operatives.”
“Speak for yourself, Carr. I’m not lowly—I’m a Lieutenant Commander,” joked Sanchez. Everyone laughed but Balasi, who didn’t seem to appreciate the humor.
“You’re both here because I wanted you here,” replied Goran. “By your actions planetside and my conversations with Korab, I believe both of you to be people of honor. I also believe you are a man of honor as well, Captain Pettigrew.”
“Yes,” interjected Balasi, as if he felt he had to say something to remind everyone he was relevant. “Your retrieval of the life pods after the attack on Imperial Wrath was most commendable. Fleetmaster Haldryn had ordered our ships nearby not to leave the shipyard under any circumstance, lest their captains and officers be executed. If you had not acted…”
Pettigrew cleared his throat again and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It seemed like the civilized thing to do.”
“Governor, just what are you proposing?” asked Adams, rescuing her commanding officer from his discomfort at being praised.
Goran steepled his hands together. “Captain, you say that your Sixth Fleet will arrive shortly, but our forces still have fifteen functioning warships. With our shields and other tech advantages, we could defeat you in battle, even with your reinforcements.”
The Sarissans suddenly felt uncomfortable. “Is that a threat, Governor Goran?” asked Pettigrew, an edge in his voice.
Goran forced a toothy smile. “Not at all, it is a fact. However, it is also a fact that if we continued to engage your forces, and the Gerrhans, and the other starholds of the Renaissance Sector, we would eventually run out of ships and you would defeat us. Many lives would be needlessly thrown away in the process.”
Everyone reflected on Goran’s point, with Pettigrew finally speaking up. “As Commander Adams asked earlier, just what are you proposing, Governor?”
Goran glanced at Balasi, the kind of look Carr thought silently said, “Here we go…”
“My people didn’t ask to be here, but we’ve made the best of the circumstances that we found ourselves in. We took the planet below and revitalized it. We’ve spent the last dozen years making it our home, and we won’t let anyone take it away from us now.” He paused and looked over to Balasi, who nodded encouragement. “What we fear is that now that we’ve been discovered, your people will want Earth back—if not the Sarissan Union, then someone else.”
“I suppose there would be some who might think that way,” said Pettigrew, “but understand that most of the people in this universe died on Earth three hundred years ago. All of the starholds are actually underpopulated, it’s not like…”
“Let’s not kid ourselves,” Carr interrupted. “It’s Earth. Thousands of people would relocate here if they had the chance. And something else—there’s more than one government that would make a grab for this planet, just for the prestige of owning humanity’s homeworld. It’s a helluva prize. Goran and his people have every right to be concerned.”
Goran saw the opening for his proposal. “We have a very small population, only around twenty thousand. We would welcome immigrants, as long as they renounce their citizenship to their current starhold and pledge loyalty to Earth. However, we need more than population. We need minerals, natural resources. Our terraforming revitalized the planet’s biosphere, but it didn’t replenish the iron ore, the copper, and all the other minerals that humans consumed for thousands of years before they abandoned the planet.”
“You need trade,” stated Adams. “But that’s a two-way enterprise, Governor. What can you offer?”
“Technology. We need one of the established starholds to be an ally of the New Earth and assistance in safeguarding our independence. We have certain tech that we intend to share with everyone in the Renaissance Sector, as a kind of goodwill gesture, you might say. However, in return for a military alliance, we would share other particular technologies exclusively with the Sarissan Union.”
“Shields?” asked Pettigrew, cutting to the chase.
“Shields,” answered the Governor, “and engine technology.”
“We could make your fleet very powerful,” added Balasi in a masterstroke of understatement.
Pettigrew appeared to be pondering, trying to play it cool. Adams was beyond looking cool—she was practically salivating at the upgrade possibilities. Just as Carr was about to open his mouth, Sanchez beat him to it.
“Why us?” she asked. Why don’t you shop around? What about the Gerrhans? Or the Pontians—nobody loves a good bargain like a Pontian.”
“Commander,” Pettigrew broke in, not knowing whether to be amused or angry with Sanchez. “I think if our friends—”
Carr interrupted again. “No, she’s right. If they truly are our friends, Chaz, then we need to advise them to be careful. Maybe they should shop around, see where they can get the best deal.”
Pettigrew leaned back with an exasperated look on his face. Next to him, Adams’s expression
said that she was mentally preparing two court-martials on the grounds of treason. On the other side of the table, Goran clapped his hands together and grinned.
“You see!” he exclaimed, pointing at Sanchez and Carr. “That’s why you’re here! Do you think anyone else would have told us to shop around? Besides,” he said, sliding into a more serious voice, “we have analyzed the data our people have collected on all the various starhold governments during the past twelve years, and your people are the ones who can best assist us.”
Balasi leaned forward. “And you have defeated a Rhuzari titan in battle. I mourn the loss of so many comrades-in-arms,” he said looking straight at Carr, “but still, it was no small accomplishment. Our people have a saying: ‘the only true ally is a former enemy.’”
The meeting continued for another thirty minutes. Finally, when the discussion seemed to have wound down, Fleetmaster Balasi requested that Commander Adams assist him in coordinating several inter-fleet tasks. After the two of them left, Pettigrew grinned across the table at Goran.
“This meeting’s not quite over yet, is it Governor?”
“Regrettably, no,” Goran answered. “Sorry for the deception, but I didn’t wish Commander Adams to hear what I have to say.” The thin man gathered himself. Goran had shown amazing composure and courage over the past few days, but now Carr thought he looked almost frightened. “There’s something I wish to share with you three, because I think you’ve earned the right to know, but you must keep this to yourselves. Once I share it with your superiors, I’m sure your government will classify it as the most secret of secrets.”
Pettigrew glanced at the others. “You can count on us. Please continue.”
“I understand that humankind in this universe has yet to encounter any sentient alien life.”
Carr leaned back in his chair and ran one hand over the top of his smooth head. “I already don’t like where this is going.”
“Are you saying that the Rhuzari have encountered intelligent alien life, back in the Otherverse?” asked Sanchez.
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