T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6)

by Frederick Gerty

  Slowly, the man responded, telling of his injuries, minor, easily overcome, he said, as did every other one she would meet that day, he’d be back to duty in a bright or two. He complimented Lori’s forces, saying they fought ferociously, never had they ever seen such magnificent defense of what they’d assumed was a soft and easily taken objective. They spoke for five minutes, and as Lori stood to move on, he asked if one day he might ride in the air vehicle of the alien visitors. She assured him he would, and did not have too long to wait, so heal quickly, that he might be fit to do so.

  At the next bed, bandaging swathed much of the lower half of the body, all four legs, and one arm. The injured soldier sat up stiffly, and saluted with his good right arm. Lori stopped, and went to him, took his hand, and the Anawoka translated. She said, “How are you doing, this bright?”

  The soldier answered, crisply, dismissing his injuries, offering amends for their actions that day, and regrets that the invitation to their lands resulted in a battle. Lori squatted next to the bed, feeling it improper to sit on its edge, and spoke to him for a few minutes

  Moving on, she met soldier after soldier, all male, most would recover, even if scarred or maimed for life. Lori was distressed to see the results of the powerful lasers and other weapons at her command, and these were the lucky ones–the ones who survived, who lived through the onslaught of what was to them, alien technology, powerful, and deadly. Most injuries were burns, from the lasers, in this ward, the stench of singed fur hung heavy in the air. Infections threatened, IV tubes added fluids to dehydrated bodies, and it all rather overwhelmed her. She hardly knew what to say, just inquired as to their feelings and conditions, and listened to their brief stories. Some said they felt lucky to have survived. She told them they all showed great courage, and should be proud of their fighting skills. At a couple of the beds, some of the patient’s kin sat, close to the wall. Several smaller kits hid behind adults, peering out at Lori, and her party. Here, she stayed at the end of the bed, and spoke from there. She tried to make the point over and over that differences need not be resolved through battle, there were better, simpler, peaceful ways, and to try that next time.

  The visit to the ward moved along, and lasted just over an hour. Lori noticed several natives getting up and staying with her, helping with the translation and explanation, and encouraging others to talk, when they seemed reluctant to do so.

  As they left the ward, she asked the administrator, “Are there more?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Some worse, some not so. Do you wish to see them, also?”

  “Yes,” Lori said, “Everyone.”

  They went back to the connecting corridor, and bright lights awaited them at an intersection.

  “The TV news people are waiting,” the administrator said. “They wish to accompany you. May they do so?”

  “It is your hospital, you may grant them entry if you wish. However, I did not come to speak with the news people, only to the soldiers. They may follow, if you allow, but should keep their distance, for now.”

  “Of course.” The administrator gave some brief instructions in the native language, not translated, and they moved on to the other wing, and another ward, equally filled with many injured people. As they entered, he said to Lori, “The reporters beg a moment of your time before you leave, for a few questions, if you would allow, Sky Lady.”

  The use of her common honorific pleased Lori, and won the day for him. “I will do so after I visit the troops,” she said, and moved up to the first bed.

  Perhaps forewarned, or already aware of what was happening, this group proved far more open, curious, and willing to talk than the first, most sitting on the bed, and often moving up to Lori and offering a hand, some bandaged, before she could. One claimed her touch cured him, he rose and walked, limping, but ambulatory, and said he’d been bed-ridden before. The buzz of voices and noise filled this ward, little peace here for anyone looking for it, and an interesting contrast between the first stops. That it would all play on TV seemed all the more strange to Lori, more local traditions torn to pieces by the Sky Lady.

  She made the rounds again, taking longer this time, but finally finished. Outside, she asked the administrator, “You have more?”

  “Yes, downstairs, more conventional wounds, we know better how to treat them, the burns are new, and quite terrible, to us. We fear we will lose some, as time goes on.”

  As they walked to the lower floor, she asked the Anawoka, “Do any of our medicines work, here on this planet?”

  “Most do not, and several are toxic, I fear. We have provided advice, and some instruction, but our medicines are of little use.”

  Lori nodded, took a breath, and went into the next hall. Here, bullet wounds predominated, maybe some she caused with her pistol, who knew. Some seemed worst than the soldiers above, the damage from the .50 caliber terrible to see. But many were less injured, alert, nearly mobile. Several stood to greet her, and one walked from bed to bed, introducing her to his buddies. Again, a few family hovered near, saying little, just staring at her with those large, unblinking eyes.

  Outside the ward again, they went on to another wing, and more injured, most not seriously, almost all up and walking around, several said they delayed release to see her. This went more quickly, and Lori soon finished, and left the ward. Just outside, a small table awaited her, set with a pure white cloth, several china plates, crystal glasses, flowers in a vase, and a small assortment of foods and drink.

  “Won’t you stay with us a moment, and visit, and speak to the media people here, with the soldiers behind you. This will mean a lot to all who see you.”

  Lori agreed, saying only that the questions must be presented in an orderly manner, and respectfully, too. She looked at the food offerings, and nodded to the Anawoka, who began to inspect them, and check them against a long list of good and bad stuff from the planet. Some items he moved aside, but in the end did present Lori with a plate of what looked like hard crackers and a soft cheese or spread. The beverage appeared to be wine. Lori invited the Administrator to join her, and she began to answer questions as she nibbled on the crackers. She left the cheesy-things alone, they reminded her too much of the hunk of stuff in the bucket of water fed her in the prison, and only took a polite sip of the wine.

  Fifteen minutes of fairly simple questions followed, mostly regarding what in the world she was doing here, and why, then moved on to more difficult concepts of what came next, after the battle, were they disgraced forever, or might they have a chance at trade and exploration with the aliens from the far stars? Lori spoke of honor and forgiveness, and for finding a way to make amends, and go on into a future framed in peace, not treachery and battle. She made a point of inviting Vo to the upcoming Pleiades Agreement Ceremony, they might agree to its terms if they wish, with no penalties for past incidents. She tried to make that point again, knowing that many millions of natives might see her, unaware the entire planet, almost, would do so this bright or the next. She included the administrator in several of the questions, allowing him more time in the spotlight.

  When the administrator called a halt, Lori bid goodbye to the patients nearby again, and let him escort her outside. After a long two hours, Lori and her party emerged once again. Cameras focused on her standing on the entry ramp. TV people called out questions. She looked around, and said she’d answer a few, but almost none had anything to do with the wounded soldiers, some now hanging out the windows, looking down at them. Ending the questions with a wave of her hands, she said, “We, the Sky People, come to visit those injured at the last battle. The futility of that is obvious–many people hurt, or dead, a forest burned up, lives shattered, or changed forever. And for what? For that which is attained more easily through trade, and negotiation, barter, and consultation. Not always swiftly, but far more surely. We will return again to this planet. We hope for a pleasant and warm welcome, and will reward honorable treatment with the generosity of our nature.

  �
�For those resting herein, we offer best wishes for a full recovery. And we trust the next time we meet, it will be as friends, not as adversaries, in a senseless battle. For now, I bid you all, farewell.”

  She stepped down the ramp to her waiting air car. She offered the administrator a ride, one he quickly accepted, and she flew him up and around the area for a brief ten minutes, returned to allow him to depart in front of the massed TV cams and stop in front of them. As they passed the outer perimeter, Lori noticed several placards held high by people on the ground. Demonstrators? Well, at least they had a modicum of democracy. Or maybe it was all planted here, by some military authority or another. With a wave, she blasted skyward in a sonic boom, disappearing before their startled heads could jerk upward, gone into the clouds in a twinkling.

  The screen showed a host of air cars rising to follow, all streaking upward, toward orbit, and the ships awaiting them there, while her ground guards entered lighters, and quickly followed.

  Turning to face Hunter, she said, “There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “No, it seemed to go pretty good. But some of it was actually awful, I’m not so sure I could have gotten through it as well as you did.”

  “Yeah,” Lori said, with a sigh. “And best thing, Morales has reprieved himself, I know he felt bad about the battle, so now we can leave this planet on an up note, instead of a down one. He’ll like that.” She smiled.

  Hunter looked at her. “That what this was all about?”

  “Oh no, not at all. It’s just a side benefit, but a big one. A good one. Bet the major will be pleased tonight. And that’s good, for him, and me. But no, I did this because I think it is the right thing to do, and might maybe be included whenever the battle is mentioned, and will be what they remember when we’re gone. That will be real soon, won’t it?”

  Eagle One interjected, “Departure preparations are complete, the captain awaits your return, and determination on when to light the engines. Shall I call him for you?”

  “No, Eagle One, I’ll speak to him when we get back. ETA?”

  “Thirty-seven minutes.”

  After a brief silence, Hunter looked at Lori and said, “I think Tarue got it right a long time ago. You are a goddess, a goddess of blue, and goodness, doing good things instinctively, as a goddess would. And the little visit here today is yet one more proof she’s right.”

  “Really, Hunter, I mean, really.” She looked back at him, her face serious, but he was smiling at her. He smiled all the way back to the Koyaanisqatsi.

  Lori sighed heavily when Eagle One docked in the Koya again. So be it. Inside, everyone greeted her warmly, saying, mostly, “Nice gesture,” or words to that effect.

  Tarue took her apart later, and held her hands, and said, “You have won the hearts and admiration of an entire planet’s population, Lorelei. You, the Sky Lady, have insured the reputation of all humans for all time. And by association, all the rest of us lesser species.”

  “Don’t say that, Tarue. We are all together in whatever we do. I am only the messenger.”

  “No, you are the Sky Lady, the Goddess of Blue. And that is how you will be remembered.”

  Chapter 33 - TV Interview

  “So, who’ll be there at this interview–the king, the princess?”

  “No, no one like that. It’s just me and the reporter. Princess Tareja called as an intermediary, relaying the request, and vouched for the person. She sent me a few clips of the reporter’s work, saying she maintained her position for all the years of her brother’s reign, and did so fairly and professionally.”

  “Who is she?” Hunter asked, sitting on the bed, holding the baby, watching her get dressed.

  “Someone named Sarmi Soalara. She’s quite well know, I gather, has a good reputation, according to Tarija, Does these sorts of programs, you know, with famous people like me. She called after the little hospital visit, said she wanted to talk to me. Why not?” Her face gave just the faintest smile to show she was not taking herself seriously. Hunter knew better.

  “OK. Security? Is it safe?”

  “Yeah, we’ll meet at the Summer Palace, Morales is there already, nobody in or out without his say-so.” Lori shook her head in annoyance. “They know we’re serious about that.”

  “They oughta by now. OK, we’ll be watching. Sure you don’t want us there, too?”

  “No. Sarmi asked, but I want this to be me only. And a translator. And Tari, of course. And a few of our techs. OK?”

  Hunter shrugged. “Sure, guess so. But why now, why you?”

  “Hunter, I really need to say a few things, without the distraction of cuddly babies, or wounded soldiers. That’ll be what everyone else shows, and people remember. I want them to remember me, and what I say. And time is running out. If I want to depart with a few comments and statements, got to do it now. Understand?”

  “Completely.” Hunter stood and kissed her on the top of her head. “What are you planning to wear–the blue stuff?”

  “No. A nice outfit, something classy and formal, like I would on Earth. Think the burgundy suit would do?”

  “Yes, excellent. But what’s the background, will you be inside, or out, or what?”

  “Inside, with a neutral drapery sort of thing, I’ll have a chair, Sarmi will sit back on one of those huge stuffed cushions they like. Lighting from the sides and overhead. Two cameras, or three, I’m not sure. We’ll have a table between us with flowers in a vase. Nice touch.” She looked at him. “It’ll be OK.”

  “Any advance hints on what the questions will be?”

  “No, none, but I sorta know what to expect. We’ll see.”

  “When do you leave?”

  “First thing in the morning–get there mid-day, Tajmyr time.”

  “Good luck.”

  Sarmi Soalara stood and walked to Lori, and greeted her warmly, extending a hand in the human fashion. Lori wore the burgundy suit, with a pink blouse under the jacket, a double string of white pearls around her neck, and a small pin in her well brushed hair. Her feet were covered in dark shoes, with a low heel. A half a dozen technicians milled about, and three large TV cams on dolly-tripods sat arrayed before the set. Someone carried a large floral arrangement to a low table of fine, highly polished wood, and turned it to and fro, to get the best side toward the lenses. Her Anawoka translator stood apart, as a head set was fitted, so she could translate, off camera. Tari stood nearby, watching, her own recorder going.

  Lori walked to the chair, stood there, as several sound and light checks were run by the techs. Man, this is just like on Earth. Except no cambots. A human tech fitted her with a clip mike and an ear phone. A Kobi showed her a plastic bottle of water, then placed it on the table. She waited patiently, and when everyone moved off the set, and Sarmi gestured toward the chair, Lori sat down. After more fussing with microphones, Sarmi asked Lori if she was ready. She said “Yes, go ahead.”

  Sarmi began with a brief synopsis of the arrival of the aliens on their planet, each species illustrated with a photo or a brief clip. Lori listened to the translation in her ear, thinking they got it mostly right. Finally, the woman turned to her, and asked, “Your arrival on this planet was not hospitable, and in fact, resulted in some rather grave injuries to yourself. Do you harbor any ill-feelings as a result?”

  “No, I don’t,” Lori said. “Some difficulties are expected when different species meet for the first time, and in fact, were not unusual in other first contact situations among the star travelers in the past. Now, it is over, behind us, and we should move ahead, and concentrate on areas where we can agree, especially on trade and exploration.”

  “Trading seems to be a high priority for you. Why is that?”

  “Throughout the known worlds, a great demand exists for items from other planets, especially of unusual design, rare metals, distinctive crafts, rich foods and drinks, and well built technological, electronic, or mechanical goods. Such items are fascinating to us. Already, our ships fill with many f
ine things from Magadana. All peoples seem to like things unusual, different, or highly artistic. And I trust the items we leave behind will be useful, and appreciated. The profits from successful trading help meet the vast expenses of sending starships great distances over space and time.”

  “Some complain that not enough of your amazing anti-gravity devices are available. Was that deliberate?”

  “No, not at all. We returned to the cluster with the idea of going to Uta, a much less well developed world, with a much smaller population. Our trade goods reflected that planet’s needs. We had no idea Magadana existed, nor the extent of the demand for AG devices. More will be sure to come in the future, however.”

  “Yes, yet that is some many bright clusters away.”

  “Already ships return to the star travelers’ worlds, with word of the trading opportunities, and needs, of Magadana. They will came back sooner, rather that later.”

  “Why not just give us the secret of anti-gravity?”

  “It is no secret, was found first by the Pokoniry, and later by the other races, acting independently. That is as it should be, that each know and understand the science involved. Now that you know it is possible, the most difficult part is over. The rest is just math and research, which you and your scientists are capable of, and already working on, I understand.”

  “So you will not leave us the math?”

  “No.”

  “Might you give us any hints?”

  “Yes, stop thinking it is not possible, and think of how it might be.”

  “Will you build factories here to produce the air cars?”

  “That was done on some of the other planets, and might be done here, also. If profitable for both sides, factories will probably happen here, as well.” She smiled. “More likely, you will build your own, once you can.”