“Can she really hear it,” Teacher asked.
“Yes,” Russo replied. “When she wakes up, she should remember most of it. It will seem like she dreamed it, though.”
“What should I say,” Teacher inquired.
“That is pretty much up to you,” Russo told him. “But, now isn’t a good time to bring up anything that would be upsetting. You should probably stick to positive affirmations and reassuring comments.”
“I understand,” Teacher said.
Russo sat down at a panel and tapped a few flashing Sino language symbols on the touch screen. A keyboard came up and she started typing in commands. She then pressed her finger for a few seconds over a static symbol on the pad until it flashed red.
“Morning Grass? Teacher is here and wants to speak with you,” she said, as calmly and reassuringly as possible. She then indicated to Teacher it was alright for him to speak and went back to typing commands on the keyboard.
Teacher cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk on the morning they put you in the incubator, Morning Grass,” he said. “But, I was there. You didn’t know it because you were sedated. I have been coming by every day, though, to check up on you. Major Russo tells me you are doing wonderfully. You look well to me.”
Russo finished making the needed changes to the audio for Morning Grass’ tank and pulled the desired status information to her tablet. She kept her eyes on the control panel and pretended to be busy. She sensed that Teacher was a bit uncomfortable speaking to Morning Grass with her in the room and she was trying her best to appear as if she was too focused to hear what was being said.
“I am doing great, myself,” Teacher told Morning Grass. He looked down at his CEF uniform and fiddled with some of the creases. “I’m staying busy and out of trouble.”
Russo winced. This was hard for Teacher and she knew she would have to rescue him. If he nervously blurted out something that upset or concerned Morning Grass, she might start fighting the sedative that kept her in her artificial coma, possibly with serious consequences.
All of the medicines and technologies that Russo was using had been proven in practice for human subjects, but Morning Grass was not completely human. Russo had already determined that dosing of sedatives for Morning Grass had to be increased by twenty percent compared to a human of the same size and weight, and the sedatives wore off in two-thirds the time.
Russo couldn’t determine if that was specific to Morning Grass or it was true for all felines. She also didn’t know if the higher dose was required because of the situation the feline found herself in. Russo had never seen Morning Grass completely calm.
Russo spoke up.
“Morning Grass,” she said sweetly. “Teacher and I need to leave now so you can get on with your instruction. I will be back later to check up on you and I’ve told Teacher he can stop in and visit whenever he wishes.”
She then closed the microphone and started the training audio. She moved from the panel to the viewing glass of the incubator and looked closely at Morning Grass’ budding limbs.
She typed a note into her tablet with one hand and then blanked the screen. She dropped the tablet into the pocket on her smock and indicated to Teacher they both should head for the door. Once they were outside and the door was shut, Russo asked the noticeably concerned Teacher if he had any questions.
“I do have some things I would like to discuss, Major Russo,” Teacher told her. “And, I would like to ask for some advice,” he added somberly.
“Sounds a bit ominous, Sergeant,” Russo joked, trying to lighten the feline’s mood. “Most of the folks who ask my advice tend to tell me later they wished they hadn’t.”
Teacher didn’t laugh. He mulled the comment over and then said, “I’m sure that isn’t true, Major.”
Russo smiled. She suggested it might be a good idea for Teacher to follow her to the galley deck so they could talk over lunch. She led him off the ward and to the nearest lift.
They stood in silence as the doors closed and the lift started to descend toward the lower middle decks of the Armstrong. The small lift made Teacher a bit claustrophobic. He fidgeted with his uniform buttons and shifted his weight continuously from one foot to the other.
Russo felt a bit uncomfortable herself, but not from claustrophobia.
Once the lift stopped, Teacher wasted no time in debarking, unconsciously forcing his way around the major and nearly knocking her down to get through the doors before they were fully open. He didn’t realize his blunder until he was off the lift and looking back at the expression on Russo’s face.
“Pardon me, Major Russo,” Teacher begged. He felt his face and ears catch fire.
“No harm, no foul, Sergeant,” Russo replied. “These lifts weren’t made for beings who stand over two meters tall. I can see where they might make you feel closed in.”
The two walked to the mess in silence and once inside the door, Russo pointed out the plastic trays just to the left. Teacher picked up two and handed one to Russo. They walked to the food line and set the trays on the railing.
“I recommend the country fried steak with gravy,” Russo said as they moved along the line, plucking paper napkins and flatware from bins, then drink glasses from a stack.
“I believe I will have a salad,” Teacher replied.
Russo looked at Teacher incredulously. Something about a seven-and-one-half foot tall cat ordering a salad struck her as particularly absurd. She fought the urge to say something acerbic to the feline who was obviously preoccupied and hadn’t known her long enough to learn she had a rather dry sense of humor.
Once they had their food, the two moved toward a table near the far wall of the dining area away from the door and food line.
Just as soon as the two found a table and sat down, Russo spoke up. “Well, Sergeant,” she demanded. “Out with it.”
Teacher looked back at Russo with a confused expression on his face.
“You said you needed to talk,” Russo reminded him.
Teacher thought about it for a moment and then the expression of confusion changed to one of recognition. It was now more than obvious to Russo that Teacher was not only preoccupied, but seriously distracted.
“Is there something specific you wanted to talk about,” Russo asked the feline who was munching on some salad greens with a few vegetables and croutons mixed in.
“It’s about Morning Grass,” he replied, between bites. “I’m concerned about her attitude toward humans. I shudder to think how she will feel about me joining the CEF, and leaving Terra Nova occasionally on assignment.”
Russo thought about Teacher’s statement for a bit. She was slightly uncomfortable talking to him about anything concerning his or Morning Grass’ personal lives. She tried to find the right question to ask to keep the conversation in an area she could offer professional opinions about.
“I realize that Morning Grass seems a bit wary of humans,” she finally said. “Perhaps you could shed some light on why she seems to trust us a lot less than you do.”
Teacher put down his fork and heaved a heavy sigh.
Russo hoped against hope that Teacher was not heading back into the territory of interpersonal relationships.
“I don’t have the full story,” Teacher told her. “But, I believe Morning Grass suffered some sort of emotional or psychological injury at the hands of the creators. What it may have been, I can only guess, but I can tell you for certain she only remembers what has happened to her since she started her military training. She has no memory of her childhood, whatsoever.”
Chapter 13
Russo looked at Teacher intently as he told her what he knew about Morning Grass. Russo’s professional curiosity about the felines was great, but there was a desire to decipher Morning Grass’ behavior that was much stronger, and more personal.
Russo felt an immediate attachment to both Morning Grass and Teacher. She thought at first it might have been the novelty of m
eeting a pair of feline-like beings who towered over everyone in sight. But, after she seriously considered it, she realized these two, personality-wise anyway, were as human as anyone else she knew.
Her young relationship with Morning Grass had been mostly tumultuous, but Russo’s conversations with Teacher had so far been pleasant.
Teacher was a born leader. He was friendly, and for the most part, quite confident. He didn’t, however, seem quite so sure about things when dealing with Morning Grass. Russo felt that his vulnerability where Morning Grass was concerned made Teacher the stuff that romantic novels were made of. She paid close attention as Teacher told her about his childhood and his concerns over Morning Grass being unable to remember hers.
“I don’t want you to think feline children were mistreated or neglected,” he said. “Even though our upbringing was one of regimentation and discipline, we were always treated with love and respect by the civilians responsible for rearing and educating us. We were never treated as ‘pets’ or possessions. Of course, we were bred to be soldiers and when the time came for us to go through our training, we were ridden hard and I feel it made us what we are…”
Russo interrupted.
“Do most felines feel as you do,” she asked Teacher.
“Many felines feel as I do,” Teacher replied. “There are some, however, who after finding out the creators intended to destroy us when the Zunnuki invasion was over, have no use for humans. They keep to themselves and avoid contact with either the colonists or the Zunnuki. Some of them even look suspiciously at felines who have good relationships with the humans. Morning Grass however is not like any feline I have known. She doesn’t just dislike or distrust humans. She hates them.”
Teacher’s expression said at once, he was both upset with Morning Grass and pitied her. He knew many humans and held ill will toward none, even among the creators. He felt that Morning Grass was denying herself a full and happy life by her attitude toward the Terrans and Zunnuki alike and it was making his relationship with her most difficult.
Teacher shook off his upset and finished his thought.
“Most of us know we had only the creators to fear,” he stated. “Most of them are now either dead or under strict supervision. They can no longer hurt us, the Zunnuki or the rest of the colonists.”
Russo was confused.
“The rest of the colonists,” she asked. “What do you mean by the ‘rest of the colonists’?”
“Those who were not in agreement with what the creators were doing here,” Teacher replied as if he expected Russo to know what he was talking about. When she gazed back with an extremely puzzled look on her face, he became concerned.
“You are not aware of what happened here,” he asked.
“I know what my command has told me,” she said. “But, perhaps I need to hear what went on before we arrived from somebody with firsthand experience of the situation.”
Teacher started his description with a caveat.
“My people do not want to get into the middle of some sort of political whitewash,” he said. “What I tell you must be kept in strictest confidence.”
Russo’s expression went blank at hearing the words, ‘political whitewash’. She only wanted some insight into Morning Grass’ personality. She feared now she was about to be drawn into some sort of unpleasant situation.
She was well aware the Zunnuki had made the expatriates a political football, but she felt it was unimportant for her to delve into it. She had enough to worry about.
As a higher-ranking officer Russo owed it to Teacher to warn him he was a marine now and questioning the decisions of the CEF Forward Command was not the way to begin his career. She started to tell him to keep what he was about to say to himself and save them both the embarrassment of implicating her in possibly seditious communications, but her curiosity got the better of her. She nodded in agreement of Teacher’s terms.
“I have been in touch with many of my people on the surface,” he said. “They tell me your forces have been rounding up all of the humans and transporting them to detainment centers. Even those who were not responsible for the atrocities you wish to punish. We have not said much yet, because we thought that once you interrogated everyone, those colonists who had nothing to do with our creation or the attack on the natives would be released.”
“It has only been a couple of weeks,” Russo told him half-heartedly. “If there is no reason to detain any of those rounded up, they will be released.”
Russo didn’t lie to Teacher. That was how she felt. Any innocent colonists would be released. But, in her opinion, there were no innocent colonists. Her mind was made up that the Forward Command was correct and all of the settlers were guilty of some sort of crime. All of them were at a minimum guilty of conspiracy to take the Ark by deception.
It didn’t make any difference how the felines felt about any of them. All of those who accompanied Chamberlain from Earth were criminals and had to be punished. It was sad the felines were confused about that, but it was beside the point. Russo knew that all of those arrested were going to be punished. She let Teacher talk and tried not to give him any hint she had made up her mind.
“Earth must understand something, Major,” he said. “My people and the Zunnuki want to trust you. How you proceed here will determine the path political relations between the two planets will take from now on. It would be tragic for those relations to begin with your people arrogantly believing we will stand by and allow you to treat innocent colonists as criminals. Especially, when we suspect your government knew more about their plans than it lets on and might have even planted operatives among the crew.”
“Hold on here, Sergeant,” Russo demanded. “Those are some tall accusations. You’re treading on thin ice.”
She collected herself and remembered the reason she had allowed Teacher to begin his discourse in the first place was so she could gain insight into how his experience may have been different than Morning Grass’. That he had taken the conversation in this direction must be significant, even if his interpretation of the actions of those involved was faulty.
Russo backed off and apologized for raising her voice.
“Please, Sergeant,” she begged. “I don’t really know what this has to do with Morning Grass or even you. I’m not in a position to discuss political strategies or diplomacy. And, I have no idea what you are talking about when you say you think my government had anything to do with Chamberlain’s mission to this planet or his attack on the Zunnuki.”
“It’s true Chamberlain had operatives inside the Earth government who helped him carry out his plans, but those people were caught, tried for their part and punished. I assure you that my government had no idea the colonists had come here until we arrived.”
Teacher studied Russo’s expression. He wanted to believe she was being disingenuous about the extent of her knowledge of the subject at hand, but he could see by the look in her eyes and the set of her jaw she believed everything she was saying.
He somehow felt it would be easier to discuss the events, from the arrival of the Ark at Terra Nova to the present day, if he thought Russo was fully aware that forces inside the Earth government had infiltrated Chamberlain’s crew and caused all of the mayhem. He now had the uphill battle of convincing Russo that his accusations had merit.
“I do not doubt you believe in what you are saying Major,” he said. “I must tell you, though; there were two factions among the crew of the Ark. Those we call ‘creators’ declared war on the Zunnuki without provocation. They coerced the rest of the colonists into cooperation with them. The creators were organized and worked with a purpose and John Chamberlain was not among them.”
“What do you mean when you say, ‘Chamberlain was not among them,’ Sergeant,” Russo asked. She moved in closer and motioned for him to do the same. She was getting nervous that somebody might overhear them. “Are you saying he was not a part of the group you call ‘creators’ or are you saying that Chamberlain
was not present with the colonists when they arrived?”
Teacher was confused by the question, but not so much so he was afraid to attempt an answer.
“I was not yet born when the colonists arrived,” he said. “I can only assume that Chamberlain was on the Ark when it got here. What I meant was Chamberlain was not in agreement with the tactics or philosophies of those that my people call, ‘creators’. It was Chamberlain who finally organized the felines, the Zunnuki and the rest of the colonists against the creators and helped my people gain their freedom. He also helped secure land for the colonists and the felines from the Zunnuki people.”
Russo scratched her head.
“Who was in charge of the greenhouse when it got here,” she asked. “Was it Chamberlain or the creators?”
“I was not around at that time, Major,” Teacher replied. “But, the colonists have told me the creators had control of the Ark at the time they arrived.”
Russo thought about what Teacher had just told her. She wasn’t fully convinced it made any difference. The colonists who opposed the creators were still guilty of conspiracy and theft of the greenhouse, even if they weren’t guilty of the attempted genocide of the Zunnuki. It was, however a compelling story.
“Let’s say Chamberlain was not in control of the greenhouse when it arrived,” Russo posited.
Teacher nodded in agreement with the premise.
“What difference would it make,” she asked. “Those colonists who opposed the creators would still be guilty of stealing a valuable resource from a population that needed it.”
Teacher thought his answer over carefully. He did not completely know the circumstances that caused Chamberlain and his people to leave Earth. But, he had firsthand knowledge of the creators and Chamberlain, and how they behaved during the wars.
He trusted his instincts. Those instincts told him there were things the creators were hiding. Why else would they have destroyed most of the archives they held on the Ark before Chamberlain could regain control of it?
Chamberlain's Folly (The Terra Nova Chronicles) Page 12