Descent

by Hamish Spiers

  Asten reflected on this for a moment. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Neither had I,” Selina said. “But it makes a little more sense when you look at it like that. He’s seeking the homeworld’s approval for his little colony and its territorial claim over Katara.”

  For a short while, they walked in silence. Then Asten sighed. “You know, I don’t even know the first thing about Katara, to tell you the truth. I mean, if they’re really suffering there, if the diplomats and the politicians back home are right, then we should care. But...”

  Selina nodded. “I know what you mean. This isn’t our fight. But we’re the ones who have to hack our way out of the jungle.”

  “Yeah. That’s pretty much it.”

  “Well, with all things being equal,” Selina said, “I’d rather be back on Phalamki too.” She squeezed Asten’s hand. “But we’ll get there. Soon.”

  “I hope so. I don’t want our child to born here.”

  Selina clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry. Our child will be born on Phalamki.” She smiled and pointed to a little depression in the terrain, a leafy gully with a trickle of water running through it about two meters wide, gurgling over a bed of rocks and pebbles. “There you go. There’s our stream. Let’s give it a name.”

  Asten looked at her and laughed. “A name? What for?”

  Selina nudged him. “Come on. If we’re going to follow this all the way to the ocean, then don’t you think it’d be nice to give our traveling companion a name? I’m going to call it the Elise.”

  Asten smiled at her. “That’s a pretty name. Does it have any significance?”

  Selina shrugged. “It just sounds like an old Phalamkian word my father taught me when I was a kid. And it’s a nice similarity because the word means ‘hope’.”

  “Hope’s a good companion,” Asten said.

  “It is,” Selina agreed.

  13. Felkar

  Reece stepped onto the Lantern’s bridge.

  Sitting in his usual place by the communications station, Eroim swiveled in his chair to greet him. “Well, hello, young fella. You’ve finally come to see where all the excitement happens?”

  Reece smiled. “That’s it, Eroim.” He nodded to the Felariam woman on the navigation controls and the Tollum at the helm. “Good morning, Kailis. Marlin.”

  They both returned the greeting. Then Carla appeared from her ready room with a cup of coffee in her hand.

  She smiled when she saw Reece. “Hey. I was wondering when you’d finally come up here.”

  “So were the rest of us, Captain,” Eroim chimed in.

  Still smiling, Carla sat down in her command chair. “How far out are we, Kailis?”

  The young Felariam woman turned her head. “Three minutes. I’d say your timing’s near perfect.”

  Carla laughed. “Only ‘near’?”

  “With just a slight margin of difference,” Kailis replied.

  “By the way,” Carla said, “Marlin, Tae’aras says there are some minor power fluctuations in the starboard stabilizer engine. She’s looking into them and she doesn’t think they’re anything more serious than a loose cable somewhere but she wanted to know whether you’ve noticed anything odd in the way the ship’s handling.”

  Marlin’s feathers flattened in a gesture of contentment. “I haven’t noticed anything, Captain. The Lantern is handling herself as smoothly as a baby.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear,” Carla replied. “I’ll let her know.”

  At her station, Kailis continued watching her instruments and then she turned to Carla as a timer counted down. “We’re here, Captain.”

  On the main bridge screen, Felkar came into view.

  Carla took a sip of her coffee and leaned back in her seat. “Eroim. Are these guys going to hail us or do we have to hail them ourselves?”

  Eroim watched his instruments for a moment. Then he turned around. “They’re signaling.”

  Carla nodded. “Put them on.”

  The bridge speakers came alive. “Incoming vessel. This is Felkar Control. Please identify and state your business.”

  “Felkar Control,” Carla replied. “This is merchant vessel Lantern on a long range trade expedition to meet with potential clients in the Autonomous Levarc Territories. We need fuel.”

  “I don’t suppose you’re carrying Felkar or Imraec Tarc currency by any chance?”

  “We’re not from around here, Felkar Control. But we can trade you United Frontier, Federation or Minstrahn currency.”

  “Ah, well. If you’re happy with the going market rates... It’s your money. Anyway, we can assign you a platform at -”

  “I’m sorry,” Carla interrupted. “Can we choose a port?”

  “I thought you’re not from around here,” the controller said in a sharp tone. “Why do you care which port you’re assigned?”

  “We’ve just heard Tarell’s an interesting place to visit, that’s all.”

  “Depends on your definition of interesting,” came the quick and condescending reply. “All right then. Landing platform four-six-three at Tarell Port. Forty credits up front. Twenty more when you leave. Local currency of course. There’s an exchange at the landing platforms. A landing beacon’s been activated for you.”

  Carla looked up. “Eroim?”

  Her loyal crewer at the communications station nodded. “I see it.”

  “We see it, Control,” Carla told the man down planetside.

  “I’m so glad,” the controller replied. “Enjoy your stay.”

  The transmission ended.

  Carla rolled her eyes and Eroim shook his head.

  “Snide little character, eh, Captain?” he remarked. “Needs a good clip around the ear, I’d say.”

  “True,” Carla said. “However, I think we’ll have to leave that to his supervisor. Sadly, for our little crew, business takes precedence.”

  Eroim grinned. “Right you are, Captain.”

  Carla nodded to the helmsman. “Take us in, Marlin.”

  On the viewscreen, the atmosphere of Felkar swirled in front of the ship, with numerous twisting tendrils of dark gray attacking and clinging to the hull.

  “A storm?” Carla asked, sounding a little apprehensive. For a moment, she had a strong recollection of the time she’d braved the storms of Nemasil with Asten and Drackson in the Lady Hawk.

  “It’s filth,” Reece said from her side.

  Carla gasped, then trying to recover her posture, she turned to her communications officer. “Eroim. Get me some readings on this stuff.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Eroim replied, activating the ship’s atmospheric sensors. He made a face. “Yuck. Here you go. Nitrogen dioxide: sixty-three parts per billion. Carbon monoxide: forty-one parts per million. Sulfur dioxide: seventy-eight parts per billion.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Carla said.

  “It’s about what I’d expect from the scum on Felkar,” Eroim replied. “Filth born of more filth. Trust them not to give a damn about the planet they live on.”

  “If we’re going to be outdoors when we disembark,” Carla said, “then we’re going to need masks. Eroim. Kailis. You’re coming with Reece and me in the landing party.”

  Eroim turned around. “Just the four of us?”

  “To start with anyway,” Carla said, climbing up as she felt the landing gear of the Lantern lock into place on the platform. “No reason to expose the whole crew to this charming place straightaway.”

  Twenty minutes later, Eroim found himself sitting with Reece in a café. Carla and Kailis were changing currency, and presumably getting ripped off, and then they were going to take care of the landing permit. This left Reece and Eroim with the job of starting their search for information on Jered Kareim’s whereabouts.

  The café they were in was inside a larger building that incorporated many shops and businesses, and adjoined vehicle tunnels leading to similar buildings.

  Reece eyed dark clouds of dust and fumes through a
window across from the café, a rather pointless addition to an ugly building in an ugly city. Through the smog, he made out the outline of smoke stacks in the near distance.

  Eroim, setting up a portable computer terminal that he’d rented from the café owners, saw what had caught Reece’s attention and gave him a little smile. “It’s a pity the Levarc didn’t finish them off, isn’t it? Total obliteration could only be an improvement for a place like this.”

  “It’s hard to argue with that,” Reece said, turning away from the dismal view and looking at the, while still dismal, admittedly more agreeable interior of the café. “Although I guess these people will wipe themselves out if they don’t take better care of their planet. So they live their whole lives indoors, pretty much?”

  “The locals would, I’d say,” Eroim replied, tapping at the computer terminal. “I don’t think a weekend at the beach would be much fun in a place like this. It’s not Erelli.”

  “I imagine it’s not even Danneri,” Reece said, “as bad as people make that place out to be.”

  “Ouch,” Eroim said, bringing up a city map on the screen in front of him. “Harsh. But probably true. Not that I’ve been to Danneri either... Ah ha. Here’s the local office of the planetary port authorities. And here are the various police headquarters.”

  “A choice of three,” Reece mused, looking over Eroim’s shoulder.

  “So, lad,” Eroim said. “You’re keen on the captain, are you?”

  Reece largely hid it due to the dark hue of his skin but he blushed at the remark. “I didn’t realize it was public knowledge.”

  “Well,” Eroim said as he recorded the information he’d retrieved onto a pad, “the Lantern’s not a very big ship. It’s not hard to notice things if you’ve got your eyes open. Besides, I know what young men are like. I used to be one myself. And it’s not hard to understand. The captain is a pretty lass, after all.”

  Reece smiled. “She’s pretty, all right.” He sighed. “But she’s amazing, isn’t she? It’s hard to believe that anyone could be as nice as she is. You’ve been around, Eroim. Do you meet that many people like her?”

  “No,” Eroim said. “You don’t. You really don’t, more’s the shame. But anyway, between you and me, I think you should tell her you like her. You seem like a good lad to me. The captain could do far worse.”

  “Any guy would be lucky to have someone like her,” Reece said, trying not to sound bashful but not exactly succeeding in this lofty goal. “Um, you haven’t told anyone else about...?”

  Eroim grinned and, standing up, gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, lad. Your secret’s safe with me. Anyway, I’d say we can go back to the ship. We’ve got what we needed for the moment.”

  “Wait a minute,” Reece said, leaning over the computer. “There’s something else I want to try.”

  Eroim moved over to give him some room. “Be my guest.”

  Reece searched the city’s business and residential data base for a name and waited for the response. It was a short wait.

  SHOWING ALL RESULTS FOR ‘MAREIS DRAYDON’:

  NO RESULTS TO DISPLAY

  Unperturbed, he typed up another search and waited.

  SHOWING ALL RESULTS FOR ‘JERED KAREIM’:

  KAREIM SHIPPING INCORPORATED

  673 MERACH AVENUE, NORTHEAST QUARTER

  Reece smiled. “Maybe we won’t have to break into the port authorities office after all.”

  Eroim pursed his lips. “So Kareim doesn’t need to hide when he’s here. That might mean nothing but it might also say a lot about the local authorities here. Come on. Let’s get back to the Lantern and tell the captain.”

  In the portside fighter hangar of the Valiant, Zak stood beneath the nose of a Phalamkian Kite, with one arm raised, trailing his hand under the smooth metal hull.

  “Missing flying a bit more these days?” came a voice from behind him.

  Zak sighed and turned around, giving his wife a smile. “A bit. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how nice it’d be to be teaching cadets like Ja’is and Adaria are.”

  Maia smiled and put her hand on Zak’s waist. “Well, they’re not flying either. Ja’is tried to take a Cortek out for old time’s sake recently, remember?”

  Zak chuckled. “I remember he didn’t feel too crash hot afterwards, that’s for sure. We’re getting old.”

  “We’re not old,” Maia said. “We’re just too old for flying fighters.”

  “A few years ago, I think I would have said that was the same thing,” Zak said.

  Maia looked at him with her glowing eyes. Zak knew some people had a lot of trouble reading those eyes. However, those who knew Maia knew how expressive the featureless orbs of the Felariam could be. The natural light that emanated from them expanded and contracted, dimmed and brightened, and, for Zak, they conveyed far more than human eyes did.

  “What’s bothering you?” his wife asked. “Is it Selina and Asten?”

  Zak nodded. “There still hasn’t been any news. And if they’re on Imraec Tarc when any of this business goes ahead...”

  Maia squeezed his hand. Sometimes, people didn’t have to say anything.

  “But we can’t let our feelings for them affect how we approach this job,” Zak said. “During the resistance, I remember Admiral Draedon... well, he was General Draedon then but anyway... I remember talking to him about this kind of thing once.” He shook his head. “It gets to you, doesn’t it?”

  “It does,” Maia said. “I’m the same. But you’re doing well. You haven’t let it distract you from the job at hand yet.”

  Zak smiled. “Thanks, Princess.”

  Maia blushed a little and squeezed his hand again. “Come on. Let’s go to the wardroom before our guests arrive.”

  An hour later, Zak was standing alongside his wife as the visitors entered the room where the meeting was scheduled to take place.

  Admiral Kalae was the first to enter, accompanied by Laila Casdan.

  They greeted the admiral with a little formality, despite the casual nature of the meeting, in deference to her age and experience. However, Laila put an end to such formality when she embraced them both with a smile that was no less radiant than it had been when they’d first known her, despite the fact that she had now passed her fifth decade.

  After this, Laila’s daughter Lyla Alynski came in, accompanied by a somewhat thin but striking man with blonde hair lighter than her own. A Minstrahn diplomat called Kael. Her husband.

  “Good to see you again,” Zak said to the pair. “Have you had a chance to enjoy the sights on Phalamki at all?”

  Lyla smiled. “Have any of us had the time?”

  Zak laughed. “No. It’s been a busy few days, hasn’t it?”

  A silence fell over everyone present as one more guest entered the room. The man, as Zak and Maia guessed him to be, was thinner still than Kael, with large eyes, steely gray skin and arms that seemed out of proportion to the rest of his body, with his gangly hands extending down to his knees. Zak also saw that he had two knees on each of his legs and two elbows on each of his arms. However, despite his unusual physiology, he did not look awkward. Quite the opposite. There was a quiet dignity in his bearing and something sage-like in the expression of his features.

  “Maia,” Lyla said. “Zak. This is Tahei Ismaer, the first minister of the Kataran government in exile.”

  Maia extended a hand in welcome. Tahei held it in his own and bowed deeply. “Lady Erama. It is an honor to meet you.”

  “And you,” Maia replied. “My husband and I are very interested in hearing a Kataran perspective on all this.”

  The minister smiled, glancing at Laila’s daughter and her husband. “Yes. Lyla has impressed this upon me.”

  “Then let’s sit and talk,” Maia said, gesturing to the chairs in the wardroom and the drinks and refreshments on the table.

  Then with everyone seated, she began the meeting. “As you know, Zak and I will shortly be presenting our recommen
dations regarding interventive action against Imraec Tarc. As we speak, the Valiant is en route to Hie’shi. However, we have asked each of you here informally to share any last minute concerns or ideas and to raise any issues that you feel we should consider.”

  Tahei Ismaer clasped his hands. “As a representative of my people, I would be grateful to any nation that could act on our behalf to grant us our sovereignty. The Katarans have no means to fight against our oppressors for, as the Imraehi have so often reminded us, our technological advances lag far behind their own. Interstellar travel is beyond our capabilities and, of course, the means to achieve it have not been disclosed to us by our Imraehi friends.”

  A smile creased his lips. “And perhaps that is for the best. Receiving such technological benefits when we lack the knowledge to understand them, and the respect that comes from earning that knowledge for ourselves, could be devastating. We would undoubtedly race to catch up with neighboring nations without the checks and precautions, and the self reflection, that are necessary to healthy progress.

  “But nonetheless, the truth remains that the Imraehi have us at a disadvantage. Our people toil in mines for their Itherian ore and the Daelitheius crystals they prize so highly, while our farming country is overgrown through neglect and the living soil is buried with the sterile rubble that is drilled out of the earth to make way for more mines. All the while, my people toil for that ore and those crystals to sell to the Imraehi in exchange for their hated currency so that we may then buy from them what we could have, if it weren’t for all their wondrous improvements to our society, provided for ourselves.”

  The minister spoke without a trace of bitterness. There was no anger in his voice. Just weariness and sadness.

  No one interrupted him as he spoke. They listened intently as this man, who had escaped from his world so that he could fight for his people in his own way, told them Katara’s sad tale.

  “So if the governments that form the United Frontier truly wish to help my people,” the minister said, “I am most grateful. However, there’s something that troubles me and my few companions who form our government in exile. You must forgive us for this but we cannot help wondering what the United Frontier wants for its interventions in return. And so, if you wish for us to raise any issues we may have, then there is a concern that I must give voice to. And I will speak plainly so you may understand me directly. I’d like to know whether the United Frontier has any political interest in my homeworld.”