Exile's Return

Home > Other > Exile's Return > Page 4
Exile's Return Page 4

by Rebecca Mickley


  "Captain," The Admiral continued, using my new rank, "At 21:58 hours two months ago we received a special message from the Mendian Council. The message stated that they were requesting a special ambassador, namely you, to represent Earth in the matter of jump gate access, and to further technology acquisition. You are to be given special access to their fleet. We are currently en-route to rendezvous with them in two standard weeks, after we make our jump at gate Nova 16."

  "Admiral, what gets me is why is the UEA honoring this request? I am sure that special requests and such go out all the time, but what can be gained by this? I hardly have any diplomatic training. Sure, I was part of the first contact team, but I was an astrogation officer, specializing in stellar navigation and math. I didn't handle any treaties, and this is feeling painfully out of my depth."

  "Captain, for the first time in eight years the Mendians are asking for something from us first. We aren't completely sure why, but they are asking for you. As you know, they are still largely a mystery to us, but we know that they are very, very powerful. Your mission, if it is a success, could smooth things back on Earth. I know you’ve said it doesn't matter to you much, but this could save lives, Captain. Anything that we can learn about them could ease some of the tension in the fleet, and avoid straining our ties further."

  I listened intently, trying to take it in, then swallowed and stifled the urge to run, feeling suddenly very trapped. Things were apparently bad enough that the UEA was pinning their hopes and dreams on a prodigal snowshoe hare, and it terrified me. My right forepaw visibly shook as I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.

  I looked up, feeling a bit desperate but needing to know more. “Admiral, is there anything else I should know? This is feeling pretty overwhelming at this point.”

  "Well, I can say this, that we have explored a fair bit of our galaxy since you left, and in all of our travels we haven't seen anything but the Mendians. We can’t help but wonder, why? We have found literally hundreds of habitable planets, but no sign of any civilization. Earth needs to know we aren't being set up for slaughter. We need to know what's going on, and we think you might be able to answer that question." He looked tired and weary, no doubt the years of command weighing on him.

  I steeled my resolve, took an unsteady gulp of air, and set my forepaws down on the table.

  "OK, Admiral. I don't have a choice I know, but I will help. I don't want to see a war anymore than the next person, and at the very least this alliance has been good for Earth. All the new technology, not to mention the use of jump gates, has taken us years into the future. I don't want to see all that thrown away." I felt like I was going to faint. I wanted to run and hide, but this time there was no escape.

  I watched him seemingly deflate, as if a great weight had been lifted off of him. I realized then they expected a fight. They expected to have to threaten and cajole. He knew they had me, but my level of cooperation was unknown to that point. He seemed content that I wasn't putting up too much of a fuss. Which meant I had the leverage I needed.

  "Now that we have my orders out of the way, I'd like to talk about compensation," I said, switching the topic of conversation.

  "Well, Captain, you will be compensated of course,” he said, obviously puzzled. “You’re going to get paid for this, just like anyone else would."

  "With all due respect, I’ve spent the last several years eating grass and sleeping under a desk, so money, even a Captain’s salary, isn’t much use to me. I know you have me. If I refuse to go, or to follow orders, you would have me up on a host of charges, and I’d get life in prison. That’s the stick approach to motivation, and it’s gotten me to this meeting, but if you want my active cooperation, you’re going to need to offer a better carrot," I said.

  "What exactly do you want?" The Admiral asked, curious more than cautious.

  "I want to be left alone. When this is done, I want some kind of order, or decree, or something that says I can't be recalled again. I am happy as a civilian. I'd like to go back to my old life and live in peace, or just be left to my own devices. It is a more than a reasonable request, and I will count it as adequate compensation."

  "Generally, these kinds of matters wouldn't be up for debate, but I see your point,” he nodded. “I will see what I can arrange and should have a response to you in forty-eight hours."

  "Thank you. I await your response." I nodded politely and then stood up.

  "I think you’re already getting the hang of diplomacy.” He laughed, smiling at me. “Not ten minutes into the briefing and you are already negotiating."

  "Indeed, thank you, Admiral," I said, as we moved to finish the business at hand.

  Having the hard part over was a relief. Something about getting an explanation, however terrifying, helped focus me. I was to spend the next two weeks receiving a crash course in protocol that would fill up most of my days. The Admiral went over in detail the bureaucratic mechanics of my appointment as a special ambassador. In general, members of the military do not serve in that context. It is a completely different branch of the government, and it took a few executive orders and a special act of the United Earth Council to work it out legally. Something inside of me laughed at that. Such a big fuss going on over me, the last person in the galaxy who wanted to cause trouble. Regardless of my desires though, they still had fixed me proper. In the end they were able to recall me under a military act, while my service would be purely diplomatic.

  The briefing ended with no ceremony. The Admiral offered his hand, and I offered a forepaw. He saw the problem almost immediately, laughed and shook it anyway. I have heard it said that there are two types of people who make it to higher rank in the military, optimists and alcoholics. Smelling not even a trace of alcohol on him with my sensitive nose, I concluded he must be one of the former, rather than the latter, and returned to my quarters, escorted by Charlie.

  "Congratulations, Captain!" he said happily.

  "Stuff it, Charlie," I said, rubbing my muzzle, fighting a coming headache.

  "Still not too happy about your situation I see. Well, you outrank me now at least," he said, sounding vaguely concerned.

  I felt something snap in me, all my diplomacy and goodwill having been used up by the briefing. Something was quickly reaching its limit. I tried to choke it back, but I just didn't want to play nice at the moment.

  "God dammit, what do you want me to say? Yes, they made me a captain, they also took me from my home, slapped me with an assignment I didn't want, and stuck me on this god-forsaken ship. Not only that, but I also have to negotiate with a big scary alien race, where failure might mean war. What am I supposed to be happy about? I don't have a use for any of this. I feel like I'm being extorted, and damn it all, it’s just not fair. Life isn't fair, but I thought I'd escaped all this. I thought I was done, and now here I am being dragged right back." I slammed a hind paw down in anger while my front right forepaw trembled.

  "I forget sometimes how horrible this must seem for you. Why did you leave in the first place?" he responded tenderly, sounding genuinely interested.

  "Why did I leave eight years ago? Lots of reasons. It was a treaty obligation to the Mendians that the technology they shared be made available to the public before they would allow gate access, but already the reaction to the morphic tech was violent. I know it wasn't covered much in the press in the early years, but I lived it. I'd struggled for years, with a lot of existential questions about humanity and about my worth, but I never felt like one of them, Charlie, I never did. This tech, this opportunity seemed like a godsend. Do you know how heavily I'm altered?" I asked, quietly reliving my last few days on Earth.

  "No, actually, they didn't make your medical file available to me, and to be honest, I didn’t want it. If you want me to know, I am sure you will tell me," he said carefully.

  "I'm less human than a chimpanzee Charlie. My brain has been altered to the legal limit. The only thing that really remains is my ability to reason and my memo
ries, but effectively I am more an uplifted hare than a shifted human. I went so far, I took myself out of the species entirely. It was liberating. It made me feel wonderful. The first few moments after my release, padding through the world on new paws… but soon after that, the bombings started, the hate groups formed. Everything I had always believed about humanity was being confirmed in front of my eyes, so I sold everything I had, and left."

  "My God, it must be terrible having to come back then. I had no idea. You must be scared out of your mind.” He sounded genuinely sympathetic. “I've never known a morphic before. I suppose, we just don't run in the same circles. I do know most don't take it as far as you did, most of them are back on Earth or the colonies. Why did you run all the way to the outer rim?”

  "Part of me has always felt like a coward Charlie, but part of me is also so proud of who I am. There is no doubt this is the real me, this is who I am meant to be, but, I just... I don't want to face this. The only thing I can think about is going home. I left Earth because I had to. The pressure, the population, I didn't think I could ever find a place there and really get some peace. Looking through the news these last few days, the thing that scares me is, I think I was right. Seriously, the more I am here, the more I just want to go back."

  "And you will, I’m sure of it. You just have to get through this mission," he said. "So, let’s get off this depressing topic, you want to get a bite to eat with me?"

  "I'd love to. You know, I think you’re the closest thing to a friend I've had in eight years, Charlie.”

  "Well I suppose it must be hard to make friends with plants," he said, deadpan.

  "Stuff it, Charlie," I replied.

  Chapter 6

  Lunch was a casual affair back in my quarters. I think Charlie liked the novelty of being able to order room service aboard a fleet ship, and he was taking full advantage as my sole staff. Finishing lunch, I fell into casual conversation.

  “So tell me, how does someone like you end up an expert in Mendian cultural affairs?”

  He laughed. Everything about him gave an air of confidence.

  “Oh, that? Well, I mainly studied what we knew and made sure to be up on any new thing they shared with us. It had been a pretty easy gig up until now. I had a nice quiet office, and was happily riding out my career into a nice easy retirement. The fleet is desperate for knowledge, and desperate for people to understand what exactly we do know, so I just kind of slipped into it.”

  “And then one day they told you that you were going back out into space, hmm? Sounds like I wasn't the only one who was abducted,” I said, pushing for more information.

  “It wasn't as bad as all that. Aside from having to pull you off Centioc, it has been nice to get out among the stars again. I've been cooped up too long. After all, I always did like to wander.”

  “I know how you feel,” I replied. “I loved to explore Centioc, it was my own personal playground. But to me, this ship with its artificial environment and walls, well, it’s pretty confining. Three days ago I had an entire planet to call my own.”

  “And you still do. Still, if you get a chance you should really look at the ship. It is the newest and fastest thing we have, even using a new antimatter drive system. Whatever is out there, the Roam is designed to handle it. I'm sure she’s going to see many years of service.” He smiled and ruffled my ears. “But listen to me geeking out over a ship. Besides all the negativity, what do you think about all this?”

  “Frankly, I’m impressed. I know they say we haven't gotten much from the Mendians, but apparently just their presence is helping mankind advance. This ship was science fiction when I served. It has really amazed me how far we've come.”

  “So what made you leave, really? What was your breaking point?” Charlie asked, looking at me.

  “I, I don't know if I want to go into that Charlie,” I said, dodging the question.

  “You sure? I’m really curious. I have met a few morphics back on Earth, but I've never really gotten to know one. I was just wondering why you did it, why you chose to go this far. All that misanthropic humanity stuff, sure I believe it, but there were a lot of other things you could have done. Hell, you could have gone as a human to Centioc. Sure you would be bat shit crazy by now, but you still could have. I just figure, someone doesn’t wake up one day and decide to be long eared and hoppy.”

  I sighed, looking through my window at the tapestry of stars hanging outside, and I thought carefully. Taking a deep breath, I related my last days on the Danube.

  “The morphic technology was the answer for a lot of us, Charlie. I knew people who went for it in the first few months of availability. You know the treaty with the Mendians forced mankind to make it available. It was quickly determined it was safe for public use, so they let it loose. I remember those days. I’ve done some reading, it’s different now. There are therapy protocols, but those took time to develop. In the beginning you could walk in and just start the process. Overnight I had friends living their dream of transcending humanity, but I was on the Danube. I had a career. I was proud to be an astrogator, Charlie. I found it challenging and engaging. I had worked hard to get where I was, and after being on the first contact team, well, it looked like I had a long and successful career ahead,” I said, looking down.

  “Yeah I saw that in your jacket, but from my reading you left the service after refusing a direct order. Is that right? What changed?”

  I sighed and thought back to that fateful day. I looked up again and tried to suppress the emotion. I don’t know why I kept talking, but it just started to flow out of me.

  “We were escorting a morphic colony ship, the Hope. About two hundred and fifty of them that had decided to leave Earth and start their own world. A friend of mine was on board. I had known Joyce since college, and she had become such a lovely otter. Happy and bright, she talked about the colony as a chance for them to become their own people, to start new traditions. Looking in her eyes you could see her enthusiasm.” I trailed off, remembering my old friend.

  “What happened?” Charlie asked, snapping me out of reflection, encouraging me on.

  “The colony ship never made it to her new home on Centioc One. Her fission initiator destabilized and melted down. We had a window, a very small one, where we could have saved most of them.” I stopped and took a moment to breathe before continuing.

  “Their power systems were all haywire, they couldn’t launch the escape pods, not that it would have mattered. I did the math Charlie, we could have offloaded at least forty five percent of the colonists and gotten to a safe distance well before the radiation levels went too critical for evacuation. In spite of all this, the Captain ordered me to set a course away from the Hope. I refused, knowing we were leaving them to their death, but he told me, he told me in a tone and a way I will never forget, that “they weren't people anymore anyway”. I refused again and he ordered his security officer to pull his gun and shoot me if I didn't comply. I was a coward Charlie, I punched in the coordinates and we left them. I left them to die of radiation sickness.” My paws shook with the rage of that day, the pain overwhelming me.

  “On that day I helped the Captain kill two hundred and forty eight people who never did a thing but ask for help. That was the day I gave up. I gave up on humanity, I gave up on my career, everything. There was even talk of a court marshal, but in the end I had obeyed the order. They quietly let me leave the service. There was an inquest, but it was found that the Captain acted rightly, and it was covered up as an unfortunate tragedy and forgotten,” I said, monotone, the pain numbing me to the core, allowing my mind to spit out the details of that horrible event.

  “I determined, in that moment, that my far-off dream of shifting after I had had my career would start now. I ripped out everything I could that made me human. A new motivation seized me to take my dream as far as I could go. I had a new passion, not just to shift, not just to be the hare, but to put as much distance as possible from the person who dialed that pa
d that made me damn them. I sold everything I had, my house, my car, bought a rust bucket old shuttle and boarded a transport for Centioc One. As far as I am concerned, Charlie, humanity can fucking rot.”

  “So why help?” Charlie asked, after sitting quietly and absorbing the clear venom in my tone. “Most in the military believe we are coming to a crisis point. Without intervention this Mendian situation could flash in the next six months to something truly ugly. Why not just take a prison cell and wait for the fireworks?”

  “I don't want a war, and I don't hate people, Charlie. It's more like hurt or heartbreak. I was going to make the shift no matter what happened. I feel and have always felt a disconnect and a distance from the human race, but it is not malevolence. I was going to be a snowshoe hare no matter what happened in my career, but on that day, they made me an exile.”

  He looked at me, thoughtful. It was the first time I had seen him speechless, but what he did next shocked me. He walked across the floor towards me, and he hugged me. As he held my shaking exhausted form, all he said was, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry they made you do that, I'm sorry I pulled the gun. Now I understand.”

  “It's over and done, Charlie, it's done. Nothing can bring those people back, and no one can fix what we did that day, but I will never forget it.” My voice rang with the sounds of regret.

  “How about you and I get some work done, eh Snow?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Chapter 7

  The creeping worry of my slip into feralism weighed heavy on me the next day, so I contacted the ship’s doctor and decided to get checked out. What had happened to me on Centioc One was something that wasn't supposed to happen, and to be honest I was scared. In spite of the busyness of the last few days, the new protocols, the insane workload, it still hung heavy in the front of my mind, so I hopped in, talked to the doctor, and he placed me in the scanner. As he quietly listened, checking my vitals and my nanomachines, he nodded, and hmmmed as I explained my experience and my concerns with feralism.

 

‹ Prev