The eldest, she surmised by the graying and thinning fur coat, spoke. “The Pokoniry remember very well the history of the hagazzii in question, and the brave humans who have operated it, yourself included. Yet the old fears remain. We dare not trust an EI model loose in the skies of Florez, no matter for how short a time, or who operates it.”
Lori felt the color drain from her face. She sagged in the seat a little, knowing they all saw that, and tried to sit up again.
The elder went on. “Unless,” he said, and Lori’s eyes shot up to fasten on his. “We here on Florez have a means to control the hagazzii, or at least limit its operation, should it ever run afoul of our edicts, or exceed the careful operation of its pilot.”
A kill switch, she thought, her heart going cold.
“Such a means is available, and has been available for many years, yet has never been sought, nor accepted, by the operators of the hagazzii in question. Is it now come that such an option might be considered?”
Without hesitation, Lori, her heart bleak, said, so softly that she feared they did not hear her, “Yes.”
They heard her. But again, they did not immediately respond.
“Very well. We will take your request under advisement, and inform you of our decision in due time. You wish to remain in the gravity well?”
“With your kind permission, I do.”
“Permission is granted, with all operational edicts remaining in effect.”
Lori knew what that meant, and that the meeting was over. She stood up, again remembering not to thank the group.
She said, “I will await the wise decision of the Pokoniry, and,” damnation, she nearly started to thank them, but quickly changed it to, “will remain in the herd area, and observe all appropriate edicts.”
With a slight bow, she turned and left.
Outside, she took several deep breaths as she walked to the landing deck. Only when seated in Eagle One, did she realize she was covered in sweat. Her hands shook when she took the controls, and lifted Eagle One. She told it, “We have to talk.”
Long minutes later, Eagle One said, “Lorelei, I will accept your decision on what to do regarding my operation and defensive systems. If a control switch”–she refused to call it a kill switch–“is necessary, then it may be installed. I wish to continue to serve the Saxons, and needed new equipment and programs to do so are necessary, as time changes that which is known and available to others.”
“Yes, yet, I fear this, more than I fear battle and war itself. I fear others may gain access to the control measures, and utilize them against us again.”
“Lorelei, that is the point–they have already used control measures against us once, and may do so again at any time, since we possess no defense against it.”
“We survived.”
“Yes. But that cannot be guaranteed next time.”
Her heart cold still as they cruised along, Lori said, “What do you want me to do?”
“That is not for me to say, Lorelei. It is for the Saxons to decide.”
“I have decided, but I don’t like it.”
The air car did not reply to that.
Back at the resort, the Damai asked about the meeting, and Lori said it was difficult, but she left hopeful. Their stories were far more positive, full of attention, many offers of trade and exchange, and plenty of interest in the kits. Thinking of that, Lori thought it might not hurt her case with the elders. Good thing she’d brought them along. And mentioned them in her meeting, too. Encouraged, her mood brightened and she worked with Tarue in planning her travels for the next few days. All of them would be in Eagle One.
Chapter 7 - Back To The Elders
The second day, they all flew off early to Lumu Teba’s island horse ranch, and arrived to much fanfare and a warm greeting. After a tour of the barns and nearby corrals, and a look at dozens of horses, Lumu found a mount for everyone, and they rode off, away from the ranch house, up the tall hill behind it, and on out beyond the last pastures, following thin trails into the forest and highlands of the rest of the island. They crossed a pass between the two highest peaks, and meandered steadily downward, heading toward a rolling, grassy plain. At the edge of the low grass, Lumu shouted, and the horses took off, running fast, everyone yelling and holding on. The gallop was a short one, however, ending at a wider trail that lead to a bluff overlooking a grand bay and an expansive beach below. Eagle One flew high overhead, accompanied by a Pinkerton guard car.
“Can we run to the water and swim?” Nif asked.
“With the horses?” Dayu said.
“Yes, and gallop on the sand?”
Lumu said, “Well, we could if we can find a way down there. Think you can?”
With shouts, the four kids took off on their ponies, while the others watched them and waited. Soon Peter raced back, yelling, “I found the way, I found the trail. This way, this way,” and he beckoned back behind him. Everyone converged, and Lori noticed that Lumu made sure Peter led the others down through more woods on a steep and winding trail, across two brooks, and finally out onto the bright sand. With more whoops, the kids took off racing their ponies, while everyone else held theirs back, letting the youngsters go. They followed more leisurely at first, but soon yielded to the open strand, and ran their horses, too, across the wide beach, and down to and along the water. Lori cantered with the group, holding onto her mount’s mane with one hand, splashing into and through the splayed surges of the waves rushing the shore. They chased, and caught the kids, turned, and ran off again, back the way they’d come, their earlier hoof prints already partly washed away by the waves. Only at the very end of the beach did the group halt, and turn and walk the horses, listening as they blew and snorted, impatient to run again.
Lumu led them along the shore, giving the name of the bay, and the nearby low hills, and at the halfway point, turned back up the beach toward a couple of air cars that had landed not far from the water. Everyone dismounted and let the wranglers take the horses and walk them some more. The kits and the kids ran back down to the water, discarding articles of clothing as they went, and were soon splashing in the surf, under the close eyes of two Kobi babysitters.
Lori sat in the sun on a deck chair, and accepted the tall glass of iced tea, hoping the warmth would dry her water-spotted clothes.
“How’s that?” Dak asked, shaking her hair out, letting it fly in the breeze.
“That was fun. Wild, but fun,” Lori said, holding her glass high. “Most fun I’ve had...” and she paused, and said, “...all day. And no one fell off.”
She told them of the kits’ rides at Cricket Hill, both Dak and Skip very interested in the story from Earth. Lumu questioned her closely about the horses, inquired on breed lines, which Lori couldn’t remember, but Lumu said she’d look into them, she always interested in new additions for her Arabians.
Lunch appeared, some grilled fresh caught local fish, hot off the fire behind them, and a variety of fruit and vegetables. The babysitters pulled the kids, almost literally, out of the sea and up to the gathering for lunch. They turned their faces up at the fish, but accepted jelly sandwiches and potato chips, while chatting and teasing the kits. After a short break after eating, everyone went down to the waves for a time in the water, and Lori, Dak and Tarue went beach combing. The kits came along, too, and so did the kids and their parents.
Back again, the horses were cooled and ready and they mounted and ran back and forth on the beach twice, then followed Peter up and out and onto a high and winding trail above the water, with fine views away west and north. For the rest of the early afternoon, they followed the trail through green and dense forests, across open, rolling plains, the tall grass wavering in the breeze, down along the sandy shore for a time or two, and back upward once more. In the late afternoon, with the sun well low over the hills behind them, they found the road back to the ranch, and arrived soon afterward.
Lori slid off the horse, her legs aching and hips stiff, and gingerly wa
lked to the porch, and sat in a cushioned chair. Sitting there, a place her great grandmother visited many times, Lori gazed out over the ranch, tired, but content.
Lumu arrived, with a message reader. She showed it to Lori, and played a file. A Pokoniry, of some importance she gathered, spoke in Selat, and Lori tried to follow, but lost several of the key phrases.
“Can you translate, I can’t quite follow,” she said, perplexed by what she’d thought she’d heard.
Lumu did so for her, quickly filling in the missing words. Looking at Lori, she said, “It means the elders have reconsidered their previous decision, and wish to meet with you again to discuss options, and review courses of action.”
“What?” Lori said, stunned. Her heart pounding hard, she said, “That means I might get the upgrades I want? For the hagazzii?”
“It means they will discuss such matters with you again. So you might.”
Making a little face, Lori said, “But they already decided, said no.”
Lumu looked at her. “Perhaps part of what they said was a test, for you, to see your reaction, what you would do. That you accepted, with grace, and maturity, impressed some, well, many, with doubts about you, Lorelei. So now, they will re-consider. If you wish.”
“Oh, I do.”
“When you visit, say nothing about the previous decision, but they may. Think of it as if it never happened. Listen to what is said carefully, now they will be more direct. And be warned, you may not like that which is offered. If so, you may decline. But in that case, the matter will end, it will not be reopened, in your life time.”
“I understand.”
“Lorelei, your courage in the matter of the attack in the hotel impressed many. The earlier decision is not popular with some, with persons of influence. Many know of the dangers you face when exploring,” and she waved a hand upward, “as well as here, on the planets. The hagazzii, Eagle One,” and she paused, her head bobbing, “continues to serve, long after all others are gone, worn out, obsolete. It amazes us, surpasses all expectations. That you have lavished care and attention to it does not go unnoticed. So some wish to see how it will go on, how long it will continue to operate.” She looked at Lori, with something like a smile. “So, perhaps, considerations will be extended to you, to see what happens. But there will be controls attached.”
Lori figured she meant “strings,” and expected that, knew that would be part of it, to save face, if nothing else, on the part of the locals involved.
“I know that anything offered to me, now, is at some risk to those here who do so. And I will respect, and honor, those people.”
“Good.”
“Now, when might I meet with the delegation?”
“At your convenience.”
Wow, now that, itself, was quite a concession.
“How about tomorrow, or do you have plans for us here?”
“I do, but they will remain. Better not to keep the Elders waiting. I will arrange to meet tomorrow.” Lumu stood, and left.
Dakota, sitting nearby and listening to the whole conversation, said, “Lori, what’s going on?”
“Well, seems like I might be able to get the upgrades to the air car’s systems I came all this way for. Got another shot at it, anyway. So, we’ll see. Wish me luck?”
They toasted that, with glasses held high.
The next day, Lori flew back to Gorontalo. Lumu saw her early, then left herself. Dak and Skip flew off in their own air car with the Damai, after getting Lori to promise to come back and tell them everything that happens later that day. Tarue was going to meet with a business group, and Dak would be her interpreter.
Lori arrived at the meeting room promptly at the appointed hour, and stepped inside. Immediately, she saw a different atmosphere. Everyone looked at her with interest, ears up, posture high, alert, and someone said, “Welcome, Lorelei Saxon Sloane.”
As she walked the few steps to the awaiting chair, Lori saw Lumu squatting near the wall to her left, with several others, including–to her astonishment–a bigboy, not part of the Elder delegation, observers, maybe, but their presence spoke loudly. One other she recognized by sight as the head of an important supplier of hagazzii parts and technology to Saxon Enterprises.
The bigboy, from the heavy gravity planet Seram Laut, superficially resembled the Pokoniry–four legs, two arms, stocky body, stout head, neck, and shoulders, powerfully built physique, as fitting for a species with a gravity pull of several times that of the others. They also wore garments, usually a flowing caftan-type gown, often of many colors. Their bounding walk on the “Lesser planets,” as they called all the others, set them instantly apart from everyone else. Following a rescue of some of their members in the distant past by Stephanie Saxon, their loyalty to her descendants continued to this day.
Lori sat down again, saw a carafe of water and a glass before her, something else new, and thought the meeting might not be a short one. Before she could begin, the graying Elder Fogi introduced himself, something else new, and began to speak.
“Good morning, Lorelei Saxon. I am Fogi, he who speaks for the Council of Elders of Peleleh. I recall our previous meetings, and the matters discussed at that time. Now, we, ever aware of the close and continuing relations between ourselves, and our great and good friends, the humans of the planet Earth, decided to mull the request brought before us earlier. Nothing of the sort had ever occurred before, and as you can imagine, it caused consternation and concern among all the elders, not just those here present. Yet, we remember the long and honorable association of the Family Saxon with the Pokoniry, facilitated by the old hagazzii, now known as Eagle One.”
He paused, looking to his left, and went on. “Eagle One long served the family Saxon, and continues to do so. Many noted the terrible assault, which you survived, on your home planet, and in which you and your life-mate to be, protected the newest members of the inter-planetary peoples. Great is your courage. And Honor. Such qualities should be rewarded, not penalized. Perhaps our earlier actions were rash, un-thought out, and,” he paused, nodding, “not indicative of the pride we see in you, and our ancient hagazzii.”
Lori let him ramble on, she thought it was all eye-wash, ear-wash, really, for those here, and those who might hear later, or question or complain, and she knew it was necessary. She sat, attentive and quite still, and listened. As he continued, she began to think some of what he said was for the bigboy, or at least for his benefit, as for her. That he failed to mention the sneak attack on the hotel worried her, but she expected that. She kept her eyes unmoving on the speaker, dared not flick a look at anyone else, Lumu or the bigboy especially.
After more dialogue, the elder seemed to reach a conclusion. “Therefore, we are now open to considering your request to modernize the exploratory and defensive capabilities of the HEI hagazzii in the service of the Family Saxon. What say you?”
Without hesitation, Lori said, “As appointed and officially of the Family Saxon, and as first born thrice to Stephanie, I say the Family Saxon welcomes and accepts the kind and generous offer of the Elders here today, and will always apply new knowledge and technology with honor and restraint.”
A murmur swept the delegation, and Fogi said, “What do you seek for the hagazzii?”
“The hagazzii needs protection from the wave disruptor device, enhanced ability to respond to such devices, new lazer and particle guns, and whatever advanced anti-missile deception or targeting systems might be available.”
“Such devices are available, yet not without restrictions.”
“What are the restrictions?”
“Military vehicles have installed, integral to the devices, a limiting switch, with remote activation.”
The god-damn kill switch, Lori thought. She said, “And what of civilian, planetary exploration models?”
“None have such advanced weapons capabilities. Yet all current armed exploratory models include a device, which is always operational here on Florez, and only here.”
Her heart pounding, knowing her next words would seal or break the deal, she said, “Such a device is acceptable to the Family Saxon, as part of the defensive array improvements.”
She bit her tongue so as to remind herself not to complain of mis-use, here or elsewhere.
The elder said, “We are now prepared to present to you specific devices to consider.” He turned to someone at the far left of the table, and a younger female stood, and activated a wall screen hovering between the windows, both of which darkened.
The woman bowed to Lori, and began a presentation. With no notebooks or her own hand-held available, Lori knew she’d have to remember whatever she wanted, and started to do so as soon as she saw what was offered–an enhanced lazer-radar targeting and aiming system, more powerful, high energy lazers, quadruple beams, not just twin, and much more effective plasma energy weapons, using faster, and smaller, yet twice as destructive, electron spheres. Better “heads-up” info systems for her, larger and improved fuel cells and energy storage, enhanced navigation systems, additional crystalline memory, a somewhat faster drive, though limited by the non-military cabin, that could be changed if she wanted to wear military pressure suits every time she flew, something just not practical, or realistic, for her, and her passengers. A better, lighter, harder outer armor plating. They offered better controls, no more twin sticks, something she’d rejected for years, and figured she would again, too. And finally, something they called, “Systems Integrity Armor”–protection against the damned wave disruptors. No details, but that was what it would do. She’d accept that for sure.
The lady squatted back, her presentation over. The windows cleared again. A man stood, military for sure, by his sash of rank and position. He flicked on a brief presentation, too–on the kill switch, using a desk screen. Not calling it that, he told how it would protect the civilian and military population from random or deliberate action calculated to cause harm, by shutting down all systems on the hagazzii, and allowing the computers to direct it to land at an appointed place, for examination and review by the authorities. He said, “I stress that the hagazzii will not be damaged, nor destroyed, and will be operational again, once whatever defect occurs is fixed, or a dangerous situation is concluded.”
T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6) Page 9