by M. Alan Marr
Chaz meanders along a beautifully landscaped path around the building and finds a pedestrian road that appears to follow the entire coastline and is unspoiled by ground vehicles. Directly ahead is a pier extending out over the water a hundred feet or so. There are no boats tied to it, but there are yellow bollards for that purpose. Chaz reaches the end of the pier and looks down into the crystal-blue water to the glistening white sands below. He wonders if the water is saline or fresh, but the sea air smells familiar (although cleaner). There is a squid-like marine animal swimming along that pauses below Chaz. They seem to regard one another for a few moments, and, amazingly, the squid puts on a colorful display. Chaz wonders if this behavior is a greeting or a warning. The squid turns upside down and squeezes its tentacles together. Gracefully, the point of the tentacles emerge from the water and spread open, putting on a colorful display of patterns like a living kaleidoscope. Chaz smiles, and the squid dives downward and then comes up again, this time with his triangular head out of the water. The squid’s complex eyes remain comfortably submerged just below the surface, watching Chaz. The squid shows a burst of color and, amazingly, produces a portrait of Chaz’s face on the squid’s own exposed head. It is an amazing likeness—the squid is differentiating between facial features and his uniform and even the stripes on his shoulder boards. The image seems to have an undulating blurry line moving across it, but then Chaz realizes this must be what the squid sees from under water.
“Unbelievable,” Chaz says slowly, smiling. “Hi there!”
The direction of Chaz’s voice initially startles the squid, and the image fades in favor of a sudden burst of colors. It backs off, then slowly comes closer for a few moments. A tentacle emerges and twists around as if bidding farewell to Chaz, and the squid submerges and continues on its way towards the seawall. Chaz looks out across the bay and sees a large sailing vessel. As big as an oil tanker on Earth but with rigging like tall sailing ships of the past with large red-and-white sails that can be seen for miles against the blue sea.
What an amazing series of events. Chaz is lightyears away from Earth, and the fact that it doesn’t faze him in the least is remarkable. He leaves the pier and meanders down the pedestrian path to a small park filled with greenery. Chaz leans on the fence, gazing at Bari. He feels a nudge at his leg and looks down to see a Tertian cat nuzzling him just like a cat on Earth, only this cat is the size of a Great Dane.
“Oh my God,” Chaz says, somewhat afraid to move.
A woman wheeling a toddler in a sort of perambulator strolls by, unconcerned about the huge cat. The toddler points to the animal and says, “Feely, Mama.”
“Yes, Ina, that’s a Feline.”
“Excuse me,” Chaz says, “is this animal dangerous?”
The woman stops and smiles. “You must not be from Trieste,” she says. “They’re not dangerous at all. This one seems to like you. Usually they’re very timid around people.”
Knowing the big cat is not a threat, Chaz squats down to pet it. And just like a young cat at home, this Feely, Tertian, apparently, for kitty, is affectionate and playful. The Feline absolutely loves Chaz. It paws at his arm playfully (claws retracted) and bites at his hand harmlessly.
“I think you’ve made a friend,” the woman says favorably. “I’ve seen this one here often. I think he lives below the pier.”
“He’s beautiful,” Chaz says as he nuzzles the cat. “Yes, you are. You’re a beautiful kitty.”
“Feely!” the child yells, startling the cat. The cat jumps away from Chaz and slinks up to the little girl and nuzzles her briefly and then ducks back over to Chaz for cover.
“You are a nice Feely,” Chaz corrects himself. The cat lets out a low, throaty Maaaaow.
There is a rustling in the shrubs a few feet away, attracting the cat’s attention. A yellow Tertian crab sidles out and across the pavers and into the greenery near the pier. The cat takes off after it and disappears below.
“Off to rid us of crustaceans.” The woman smiles.
“Feely gone,” the child says, disappointed.
“Well, have a good rest of the day, Officer.”
“You too,” Chaz says warmly. He takes a deep, satisfied breath and walks ahead to the seawall to look for his aquatic friend. He sees the squid taunting a school of fish close to the wall. Chaz watches the submerged back and forth between seagoing aggressors and wonders if they are playing or defending, and who is at risk from whom. Then he sees one of the squid’s tentacles reach out toward the fish. The end of the tentacle flickers a range of bright colors. One fish gets a little too close, and the squid grabs it and promptly swallows it. “That answers that.”
Dev arrives wearing civilian clothes and joins Chaz’s side.
“Hey, Sailor.”
“Dev!” Chaz says with excitement. “You found me.”
“I saw your silverware.”
“You’re wearing normal clothes,” Chaz says. “Should I go change?”
“I don’t have anything that will fit you. We’ll buy some clothes for you later.”
“Okay, but I feel a bit overdressed.”
“You look amazing. Besides, it’s tradition that on the day of your commissioning you have to stay in uniform, at least until sunset.”
“You’re making that up.”
“I’m absolutely not,” Dev assures him. “How long have you been out here?”
“Not very. This is amazing. That squid-thing put on a show for me back there and then reproduced my face on his head.”
“Mimicking Squids,” Dev says. “Highly intelligent creatures.”
“Dangerous?”
“No, not really. Almost nothing is here.”
Chaz turns around. “Then this big cat came up to me.”
“The one that lives under the pier?”
“Yes, the woman over there said.”
“He’s a sweetheart. He feeds on the crabs that come ashore. Felines are revered here. They’re good luck. Both the Egyptians and the Japanese got that from us.”
“He’s magnificent.” Chaz smiles. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much. And I’m sure you do too.”
“Yeah.” Chaz frowns. “I felt great until I got zapped by that chunk of Brigand in your study.”
“You touched it?”
Chaz laughs. “Obviously.”
Dev laughs hard. “I’m sorry. I guess I should have warned you about that.”
“What the hell? Why do you have that in your house?”
“The first one I shot down.”
“And it’s still alive?”
“It’s not alive.” Dev explains, “The Yeti alloy absorbs ambient voltage. Didn’t you notice the insulation around the box?”
“Yeah.”
“And you still touched it.”
“Yeah.” Chaz laughs. “It was a shocking experience.”
Dev laughs again. “Well, guess you won’t do that again.”
“Probably not. Although on Earth, Touch the Brigand sounds like it’d be a good drinking game.”
“Good Lord.” Dev shakes his head. “So, what do you think of Bari?”
“Fantastic! I am so excited to be here.”
“I’m sorry, by the way. Every pilot in the service thinks they can fight compression fatigue. Yet there I was, full speed ahead with crashing energy reserves, right in the middle of the Admiralty.”
“I saw.” Chaz laughs. “The Admiral told me, quote ‘Get him home or get him to a bunk.’ ”
“I remember.” Dev smiles bashfully. “The train ride was a bit of a blur. I’m impressed you found your way back.”
“It’s not like it’s hard.”
“No, but being on an alien world and all . . .”
“The BBJ was an alien world. This feels pretty day-to-day.”
“You’re amazing.”
“You are.” Chaz smiles.
They walk along the winding path, following the route the woman and young daughter took. The big cat re
turns and stalks them, stealthily going from bush to bush, tracking them like any cat on Earth would do.
“Look, that cat is following us,” Chaz says, looking over his shoulder.
“He’ll go as far as those trees at the end of the park and then turn around,” Dev replies, pointing to a group of blue-green palm trees down the way. “Generally, Tertian Felines have a limited territory and won’t bother anyone on the move. They slink about and play, but you pretty much have to let them come to you, and they’ll only do that if you’re standing still.”
Dev and Chaz walk and talk and sightsee for about an hour around Bari, with Dev pointing out various items of interest along the way. They visit a haberdashery to buy Chaz some civilian clothes, which will be sent to Dev’s dwelling when the tailor has them ready. Dev explains that most of the clothiers in Bari make everything to order. Back on the streets, Chaz just takes it all in and is very happy to be here.
“What a beautiful place,” Chaz says. “Everything is so unbelievably clean.”
“Yeah, I don’t know how city dwellers on Earth are content to live as they do.”
“God, it must have been hard to get used to.”
“Yes, but Earth is pretty special in its own right.”
“So, what are we doing?”
“Well, we have the rest of today and all day tomorrow,” Dev says. “The Admiral ordered me to take two days off.”
“The Admiral seems like a good man.”
“He’s a very good man. I’ve learned a great deal from him. He was my Tactics instructor at the Citadel when I was a Fourth Midshipman. Then, a few years later, I served with him as Third Leftenant aboard the warship Javelin.”
“Is that before you went to flight school?”
“After. I was a combat pilot stationed on the Javelin, but after his Third Leftenant was killed, he advanced me to that post.”
“He seems very fond of you.”
“I think that’s fair to say.”
“I doubt it’s due to vanity, Dev. He respects your abilities.”
Dev somewhat skirts the issue. “Well, I am considered . . . not entirely without talent.”
Chaz chuckles. “You’re not comfortable praising yourself.”
Dev smiles. “I don’t want to inflate my ego. I’ll leave it to others to evaluate my service to the Crown.” He changes the subject. “Anyway, what would you like to do today?”
“I don’t know, first time here. Do you have a place to have a beer?”
“Ah, Tertian lager. Follow me, sir.”
Dev leads Chaz around to the back a specific building and descends a stone staircase, where they find themselves in a dimly lit rathskeller. Rounding the bar, they sit at a corner table facing outward so Chaz can people-watch. The place seems more like Chaz’s vision of an opium den than an alehouse. The decor is a hodgepodge of odds and ends, mixed textiles, and obscure lighting fixtures, making the whole place look like it was furnished in a junk yard, in direct contrast to just about everything else Chaz has seen in Bari.
“What is this place?”
“Sig’s.”
“This is . . . interesting,” Chaz remarks, while settling in the semicircular booth. He sees uneven portals opened to other dimly lit rooms. One has cushions and pillows on the floor; another has small tables with mismatched chairs. “Not at all like the rest of the area.”
“Sig started this place years ago by building a still and selling drinks down here. People liked his brew, so he kept adding to the space. And rather than starting anew, he sort of just expanded to other rooms in the basement, and now the whole place looks like a big rummage sale.”
“That’s exactly what it looks like.” Chaz smiles. “I like it, though—it’s kitschy.”
“I have to warn you, his stuff can be pretty intoxicating. Imagine beer mixed with moonshine.”
“Yikes.”
“I’ll order us some light stuff,” Dev says. “Try not to get hammered in uniform.”
“Aye, aye.”
A server Dev has never seen before approaches. “Good day, Commander,” she says to Chaz.
Chaz smiles. “Good day to you.”
She greets Dev. “Denizen. What may I bring you both?”
Chaz motions to Dev to order first.
“Feather lager, please.”
“Feather. And for you, Commander?”
“Same for me.”
“Right away.” She smiles. “My name is Dahlia. I’m new here, so let me apologize in advance if I spill anything or confuse your order.”
“We ordered the same thing,” Chaz says.
“Oh, plenty of room for error,” Dahlia jokes.
The server’s candor makes Chaz smile. Once out of earshot, Chaz leans toward Dev. “She’s cute. I like her. What’s feather lager?”
“Akin to light beer. Think featherweight.” Then Dev adds, “Light beer with moonshine.”
Chaz thinks about the brief exchange. “What did she call you?”
“Denizen, sort of an all-purpose title we use.”
“The woman I spoke to in the park called me Officer.”
Dev nods. “She probably wasn’t sure of your rank insignia.”
Dahlia carefully balances two large-ish draft lagers on a tray and slowly makes her way to the table and manages not spilling them. “Success!” she says, satisfied with her feat.
“When you said you were new here, did you mean this is your first day?” Chaz says.
“Yes, sir. You are my very first patrons.”
“Don’t worry, it’s my first day too,” Chaz says, eliciting a smile from Dahlia.
Dev pays for the drinks with the typical two-finger touch on a small electronic pad presented by the server. The tab will remain open until they decide to depart. Two more people enter the bar and sit.
“Ooh, more victims.” Dahlia smiles and is off to take care of them.
Dev holds his glass in hand and stares at it for a moment before lifting it and looking to Chaz. “To absent friends, and to new friends.”
Chaz heard a slight quiver in Dev’s voice on the word absent. The true meaning of the toast is felt by both men in light of all they witnessed in the last two days. Chaz nods and shares in the sentiment. “To absent friends and to new friends.”
Dev takes a few well deserved pulls of his drink. Chaz cautiously takes his first sip and considers the taste. Not at all bad. Higher alcohol content, clearly, but not biting. All told, he likes the taste of his first Tertian lager. Dahlia drops off some dishes of nuts, including one type served in an oil, and two tiny trident forks. Chaz lightens the conversation. “Bross had these out when I woke up.”
“Eridani chestnuts,” Dev says as he skewers one with a trident. “They’re from one of the agro worlds in Eridanus. They pack them in oil to keep them fresh, otherwise they absorb the outside air and fall apart.” Dev taps the trident against the rim of the bowl to shed excess oil from the chestnut, then eats it. Chaz tries one of the dry nuts, which tastes similar to macadamias. They continue to talk and people-watch. Chaz notices no one seems particularly bothered right now, given all that has happened. He speaks in low tones. “Isn’t anyone aware of the attack?”
“It’ll be on the news soon. Our press is a little more proactive than yours when something like this happens. They tend to wait to report until they have more accurate information. Plus, they’ll coordinate with the Admiralty to release the news.”
“What about all the people who died?”
“That’s generally why there’s a delay. The families are notified first, to avoid the shock of hearing it publicly,” Dev replies. “Spouses and mates will be taken to the injured and looked after. It’s one of the most difficult, somber duties at the Admiralty. I don’t think I could do it.”
The potency of their first lager makes the worries of the day artificially soothe. Their second one goes down just as easily as the first, and the conversation turns to the future.
“I’d love to have one o
f those big cats,” Chaz says.
“They’re not really house pets.”
The server returns with a large pad under her arm and addresses Chaz. “Commander? An urgent cable just came in, sir.” She hands Chaz the pad and leaves.
“Cable?” Chaz says, handing the pad to Dev. “Your friend Vijay said he was going to send a cable to his wife.”
“In the old days, messages were transmitted by cable wire.”
“I figured,” Chaz says. “Same on Earth, only we don’t call it that anymore.”
“I guess the name just stuck.”
The screen of the pad is displaying the official Tertian military crest, a title below reading URGENT CABLE - ALL CDF PERSONNEL, and a square fingerprint reader window at the bottom of the display. Dev’s fingerprints are read by the device. In reality, the sensor is detecting more than just fingerprints: molecular level verification that differentiates between the conscious and unconscious and even the biomechanics of a person under duress; precautions designed to prevent sensitive military information from being inappropriately accessed. Identity confirmed, the screen displays the communiqué. Dev looks at the introductory remarks. “It’s the damage assessment.” Dev reads the cable and utters a soft, “Damnation.”
“Is it bad?”
“Yeah,” Dev says and finishes the end of the report and blanks the screen. He stares at the blank screen for a few seconds before looking around for the server, who is standing far enough away to give them privacy, but close enough to retrieve the pad and deliver it to the next officer in the bar, a young Lieutenant near the front. She also realizes for the first time Dev must outrank Chaz, since Chaz handed him the pad.
This time she addresses herself to Dev. “May I take that, Commander?”
“Yes,” Dev replies and hands her the pad, which she takes to the other officer.
“I don’t understand, why didn’t they just contact you directly? Why send it to the bartender?”