by Craig Allen
“That is kind of you. And for you as well.” Jericho spoke with a smile though no visual was being transmitted, at least not from the Spican’s end. “Shall we perform a task together?”
Cody had to make an effort to keep from chuckling, not in ridicule but out of respect. Jericho had, apparently, studied Spican communication thoroughly. Cody was relieved that the dozens of papers he’d written on the subject had been read by someone.
“Agreed,” the Spican voice said. “We suggest joining together as one before we eradicate life on the troubled world.”
A series of murmurs spread through the officers, which silenced when Jericho rapped his knuckles on the table. “There are complications that require planning.”
“We shall meet together on the vessel of your choosing.”
The statement alarmed Cody, and he wasn’t the only one. The captain did a double take at Jericho and started to say something, but Jericho waved him off. The Spicans didn’t have a concept of asking questions. They simply made statements and waited for correction or agreement. But even after ten years of peace, facing the Spicans was unnerving, to say the least.
“I welcome such an encounter,” Jericho said. “We will make arrangements shortly.”
The comm cut out abruptly. The Spicans didn’t understand the concept of “goodbye,” either.
“Well.” Jericho stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “Captain, make Tokugawa’s cargo bay ready for our guests, and apprise the Spicans that we wish to meet them on this vessel.”
The captain nodded grimly. “Yes, Admiral.”
Jericho addressed everyone in the room. “Dismissed.”
Everyone said, “Yes, Admiral,” at almost the same time. Cody rose as the officers cleared.
“Dr. Brenner, a moment, please.” Jericho waited for everyone to leave before continuing. “I want you there in case there are communications issues.”
“Of course, Admiral.” Cody was hoping the admiral would say that. He didn’t always trust the automated translating systems when it came to Spican communication. “Do you expect problems?”
“For us, no.” Jericho headed for the door. “The only problem is how to convince the Spicans to not immediately launch every tac they have at planet Kali.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Cody waited patiently in the docking bay, at least as patiently as he could manage. To say everyone was on edge was the understatement of the century.
Sonja was next to him, her rifle on her shoulder. Cody wished they could meet privately before long. They didn’t have much time before she would head off to OCS.
A hint of both mint and sulfur filled the air. Cody didn’t know exactly which chemicals caused such an odd combination of odors, only that the air in the hangar bay had been adjusted to duplicate Spican atmosphere.
A crewman stared at Admiral Jericho the way the disciples must have stared at Christ. “Sir, we have the Spican shuttle. She’s traveling up the docking tube now.”
“Very good.” Jericho cocked his head. “I wonder what this one will look like.”
A few nearby officers snickered nervously. While humans used the same designs over and over, Spicans built every ship as if they were doing so for the first time. As a result, each vessel, from the largest dreadnoughts to the smallest shuttles, were completely unique. Even their hand weapons were, reportedly, one of a kind. That seemed inefficient to Cody, but the Spicans had managed to engage humans in a years-long war despite the inefficiency.
“There she is.” The captain of the Tokugawa was standing next to Jericho. “Hope she didn’t damage my docking tube.”
Jericho’s shoulders bounced as he chuckled quietly.
The docking-tube aperture opened near ground level and deposited a circular craft into the main launch bay. The front half resembled an egg while the rear half was more like two elephant feet side by side. The surface was so smooth and reflective Cody could see parts of the launch bay mirrored back. The smooth design was interrupted by extended spines that probably served some sort of purpose but not one Cody could determine.
“How many could it hold, do you think?” Jericho asked.
Cody at first thought Jericho was speaking to him, but the captain answered first. “No more than three.”
That sounded right to Cody, assuming the Spicans were cozy with one another. The whole craft was slightly larger than a standard hopper.
For a moment, nothing happened, other than steam rising from hidden vents on the craft. Then, a slit appeared along the nose section. It split the front section in half, revealing a Spican. Sonja stiffened next to him. He reached over and touched her forearm, and she relaxed, at least a little.
The foreleg emerged first, then the rear legs, all stepping onto the deck one by one. Each leg couldn’t have been thicker than five centimeters, but they maintained the massive main body of the Spican with ease. Overall, the torso was so wide that a human couldn’t put their arms all the way around it—not that anyone would actually want to hug a Spican. The memories of the war ten years past still left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth.
The creature lumbered forward, a forearm extending from its main torso just beneath the white, dinner-plate-sized eye on that side. The Spican had two more eyes and arms on its three-sided body, but only one of them was visible to Cody from his angle. The chiton-like plates of its body were covered in various blue, green, and red pastels. Each Spican had unique markings of that nature that served as a way for them to identify one another, as humans identified each other by face. Cody couldn’t recall having ever seen the patterns on their bodies before, not that he could easily distinguish Spicans from one another.
The front arm waved back and forth in a half-circle fashion.
Jericho raised an eyebrow. “Should we…?”
“Yes, Admiral,” Cody said. “We should wave back.”
Jericho addressed a middle-aged master chief close by. “Bosun, give the order to wave.”
The bosun gave a smile before speaking loud enough for the whole deck to hear. “All right, everyone, wave back.”
Everyone in sight waved, including Cody. The Spicans had learned how to wave from another translator. The gesture had spread like wildfire among the Spicans, as did every idea that occurred to them, and they tended to wave even in situations where it wasn’t appropriate. Standard operating procedure was to wave back, mostly out of concern as to what the Spican response would be if humans didn’t return the gesture. The Spicans wouldn’t be too alarmed if humans didn’t wave back, but better safe than sorry.
Behind that Spican appeared two more, who didn’t bother to wave. The first lowered its appendage, and the humans did the same. The two other Spicans stood next to each other but behind the first, which meant that Spican was the leader and would speak for them.
Rhythmic oscillations filled the air as the lead Spican vibrated its chiton-like plates together. The sounds varied from a midrange, not unlike a broken trumpet, to a low pitch that Cody felt more than heard.
“Do we have a translation, Doctor?” Jericho asked.
The translation appeared inside Cody’s eye-viewer, which had been created from his own translation program, which he’d been working on for years. He sent the signal to Jericho, which could also be read by the captain and anyone else on the same frequency. However, the translation became unnecessary.
“We are pleased to be in your presence.” The voice, the source of which was a small hexagonal shape at the Spican’s side, had the same hollow quality as the one sent ship to ship.
Cody had heard of the Spicans having such devices but hadn’t seen one until just then.
The translation continued, “We wish you peace and understand the need for your kind to grasp weapons.”
Jericho’s brow furrowed. The security personnel on the upper levels had kept their coil rifles shouldered, as ordered, but they were gripping the stocks in such a manner Cody was sure they could bring the weapons to bear quickly.
Jericho cleared his throat. Fortunately, he did it low enough in volume that Cody doubted the Spicans could hear it. The sound of a human clearing their throat was similar to the sound of when Spicans vibrated their chiton plates together in irritation.
The bosun’s voice carried over the docking bay. “At ease.”
The guards released their grip on their rifles, reluctantly.
“We offer apologies,” Jericho said. “Our kind are nervous. Nothing more.”
The Spican vibrated again, and the translator spoke shortly thereafter. “Forgiveness is given with ease. You have fear for what our people have done. Know we carry shame and will for the extent of our existence.”
“Please know we wish to be nestmates and to work together.” Jericho’s response was considered the appropriate response to the Spicans when they expressed regret for a war they’d started, ending with the deaths of billions of humans.
Next to him, Sonja had stiffened again, and he wished he could do something for her.
“We are humble as we greet the first speaker.”
Cody was taken aback. Ten years later, they still remembered him. At the signing of the armistice, only nine Spicans had been in the room, but those nine Spicans, all of whom had been shocked to learn that Cody could translate their spoken language, gave the memories of the shock, along with Cody’s appearance and the sound of his voice, to every Spican in existence. While they had a spoken language, Spicans preferred to communicate with each other by directly connecting their nervous systems together via an appendage on their underside. As a result, the memory of that time had spread to every living Spican like a virus, as if they had all been present. It had made Cody famous among the Spicans.
“I am humbled as well,” Cody said. “It is pleasing to see your people once more.”
All three Spicans vibrated their chiton plates, but no translation followed.
After a moment, the leader spoke again. “We must speak of the terrifying world.”
Here it comes. Cody braced himself. The wrong phrasing could anger them. They wouldn’t attack, that much was certain. Their guilt was still far too great. However, they might just stomp off in a huff and nuke Kali until the planet glowed.
“Yes, it is a terrifying world.” Jericho spoke slowly. “The danger it presents is great, but we have friends there.”
“The flying ones who eat the dead.” The Spican’s artificial voice hung on the word “dead,” which didn’t surprise Cody. The concept of death was something of a taboo to the Spicans, either because of the war or because of a custom long before that no one knew for certain.
“That they do. It is how they were created.” Jericho took a step forward, his hands at his side, a posture the Spicans displayed when they wanted to reassure each other. “We believe the destruction of this world may be in haste. We have a plan to confront them in other ways.”
The Spicans leaned toward one another, vibrating their chiton plates. Nothing of what they said translated. Finally, the lead Spican spoke. “This plan is of interest. Explain.”
Admiral Jericho did just that. The Spicans remained unmoved, even as Jericho told them of the neutron star and the mining operation left behind and the plans regarding what to do with it. The plan was as new to Cody as it was to the Spicans, and he wondered when Jericho had decided on it. It made sense to him, though. They needed exotic matter, so they might as well retrieve it from the same place the toads did.
When he finished, the Spicans spoke at once, creating a strange chorus through their translator. “We shall help you.”
Jericho nodded, a gesture the Spicans were physically incapable of but they recognized. “Very well. We shall transmit the coordinates of the neutron star to you at once. Operations begin in one half of one of our days.”
The first Spican’s main body twisted left to right, a gesture indicating agreement. “We hope for the sake of the first moment in time your plan works. It would grieve us to attempt genocide once more, for we will not fail.”
The Spicans retreated back into their shuttle without turning around. Given they could see in all directions, they didn’t really need to turn around much.
The Spican voice box spoke one last time. “Hope for those who are ready.”
“May we all be ready,” Jericho said.
The shuttle doors closed behind them.
The crewman close by spoke. “Admiral, they are sending a request to disembark.”
“Granted,” Jericho said, and the hatch opened and enveloped the Spican shuttle. “Did you note anything unusual, Doctor?”
Cody watched as the shuttle vanished into the wall. “Only at the end.”
“Hope for those who are ready,” Jericho repeated. “It’s the equivalent of ‘luck in battle,’ isn’t it?”
“Sort of, Admiral.” Cody kept staring at the docking hatch, even after it had swallowed the Spican shuttle and closed. “It’s an expression meaning that a hopeless situation, with luck, won’t be so hopeless.”
“So they don’t believe the plan will work? Then why bother going along with it?”
“They’re indulging us, Admiral,” Cody said. “And when it fails, they’ll have further justification to go forward with their own plans.”
Jericho frowned. “And kill every living thing on Kali.”
~~~
Cody had joined a few dozen crew members on the largest inner deck of the Tokugawa, which was some sort of rec room though Cody had never been in it before. Per standing orders, during any potential engagement, those personnel who didn’t have a job related to the ship operations had to remain at least four bulkheads deep within the ship in case of breach. That meant most of the people around him were either marines, cooks, or deck wipers. Cody liked them but wished he was on the bridge where he could see the plan unfold directly.
Fortunately, the deck had a viewer that covered most of the wall. It showed the exterior of the ship as she raced through space-time. Most ignored the light show that appeared within the Alcubierre field, but Cody always found it both a beautiful and a terrifying sight. That wouldn’t last much longer, though.
Sonja was standing next to him. They had spoken little, mainly because what they wanted to talk about wasn’t meant for the ears of strangers.
“How you doing?” he asked.
Sonja shifted her posture, crossing and uncrossing her arms. For a marine, standing around was a sin. “Better now that they’re off the ship.”
“Don’t blame you for that.” Cody was only glad she wasn’t charging into danger. He hoped to God when she became an officer, and then an official pilot, she’d do less and less of that sort of thing.
For the fourth time, she reached for his hand and then stopped herself. And, for the fourth time, he suppressed a smile.
Someone called out from across the room, “Ten seconds.”
Murmurs spread through the crowd. Cody could only pick up bits and pieces, but he understood the gist of what they were saying. The Tokugawa was about to enter the globular cluster with the mining facility. Anyone with the slightest bit of understanding of navigation was tugging at their collar. Granted, the stars were still pretty far apart, but just the idea that another star was a fifth of a light year away was enough to shake up anyone.
Also, the Kali denizens were unlikely to leave the Antediluvian facility unguarded. No doubt, they wanted all that exotic matter for themselves.
“Registering full stop,” the person continued. “Bubble’s coming down.”
A dense star field replaced the light show. Nothing twinkled—stars only twinkled when viewed from behind the veils of atmospheres or within nursery rhymes. However, the stars were so numerous the sky was practically white. Soon, though, the Tokugawa adjusted its orientation. Stars whizzed past for a few seconds until the bluish neutron star filled the viewer. The light from distant stars warped at the edges of the disk from the massive density. Even the surface danced with waves of light. Light eventually escaped a neutron star
, but it had a hard time trying.
From a corner of the viewer, a ship appeared—a battle cruiser, smaller than the Tokugawa. Cody wasn’t sure which one it was. Several more ships appeared, some of them human ships and others Spican ships.
Murmurs filtered through the crowd. Most didn’t know the entire plan, and Cody didn’t think it was his place to share. With luck, the mining facility still remained, despite the tacs they had detonated around the Kali vessel.
A crewman behind Cody called out, “Hey, Michaels. Patch in the comm channel so we can all hear.”
The man by the controls waved his hand. “You got it.”
A chime sounded, then a voice echoed across the room. “Negative, Tokugawa. Not seeing this tunnel or whatever it is.”
Cody frowned. After having given his briefing to some lieutenant commander, who then passed it off to communications, who then passed it off to every ship in the fleet—including a rough translation for the Spicans—Cody wasn’t surprised something had been lost along the way. He wished he was on the bridge, where he could handle communications with the Spicans himself.
By that point, four more human ships had appeared. The dark blue neutron star was still pretty far away and would remain so until they found the zero-g tunnel. The gravity waves off the neutron star could rip apart any vessel, reducing it and the crew to atoms. No sign of Kali ships appeared, not that Cody could see anyway.
“This is Churchill. Tally! Tunnel in sight. Adjusting course.”
Cody breathed a sigh of relief. If they could just retrieve the ex-mat without anyone getting hurt, he’d call it a victory.
Chapter Twenty-three
Admiral Jericho waited patiently at the command desk as he watched tactical. Ships swarmed toward the neutron star, careful not to get too close.