Third Don: Ardulum, #3

by J. S. Fields

  Nicholas snorted. “Yeah, that is a tough sell. You don’t just offer someone else’s planet up to save your own. Not to mention all the crap they put Emn through.”

  Tangled emotions from Emn filtered through their link. Atalant looked over at her quizzically. “Emn?”

  Emn pursed her lips as she looked out the viewscreen. “They weren’t…consistent. One minute, Eld Adzeek was threatening me, and the next, it was almost like he was trying to goad me. Eld Asth was the same.” Emn turned back to Atalant and frowned.

  “I’m not the old Eld,” Atalant said, perhaps unnecessarily, but the way Emn was looking at her was unsettling. “You can hear the andal through me. You know what I know.” She turned to Nicholas, who was staring at her as if for the first time. Atalant slapped her thighs. “I’m not being controlled!”

  “You aren’t.” Emn leaned against the console, her shoulders tight. “But, I don’t know about the previous Eld. Their views on flares were so…contradictory. The way Eld Adzeek went to his death was…like something just told him to accept it.”

  Nicholas stood from his chair, walked over to Emn, and leaned on the console next to her. They shared a look, something Atalant couldn’t place, and Emn’s shoulders relaxed. “You think it’s possible that the andal, Ardulum—whatever—has been driving all the events from the moment we landed on the planet?” His tone was doubtful.

  Emn shrugged and dug her toes into the thick green carpet of the cockpit. “Maybe? I just don’t understand why something would do that. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell the Eld what it wanted directly? Why push the flares? Why destroy the capital?”

  “For that matter,” Nicholas added, “why send Ekimet and the other Ardulan to Neek? What purpose did that serve?” He pushed back off the console, went back to sit in his chair, swiveled it, and stared at Atalant. “I know you don’t want to hear this, Atalant, but, well, Earth has a lot of religions, and this—” He pointed over his shoulder at the viewscreen. Ardulum was no longer displayed, but she knew what he was getting at. “This is religion territory. We’re moving way beyond science here.”

  Those questions didn’t sit well with Atalant, and neither did Emn’s recollections of the Eld or the andal. She huffed and pushed back into the foam of her chair, letting the material pillow around her head. “I think you’re reading into this. Both of you. The collective consciousness of the andal trees is random. It has a focus of basic reproductive fitness, which, if you’re going to anthropomorphize, can look a lot like premeditated conquest. It’s a tree. It reproduces well, and it stays connected to its offspring—”

  “Through telepathy,” Nicholas interjected.

  “Or chemical signals.” Atalant sat up and scowled at him. “Or any hundred other ways living things communicate without making noise.” She pointed to Nicholas’s pocket. “You’ve got a sentient fungus in there, Nicholas, from a group who, until we arrived, preferred to communicate chemically. They had to tell us that, and mercifully they were passably familiar with Common, but how easy would it have been to just assume they were another telepathic set of species?”

  This time when Nicholas looked at Emn, the meaning was clear. Atalant stomped a booted heel into the floor. With the thick carpeting, it made far less noise than she had intended.

  “Atalant.” Emn’s voice was gentler than Nicholas’s, but the pilot caught the firmness just behind it. “Chemical signals in the same room, or even the same continent, make sense. We’re talking about communication through galaxies, unless pheromones have tesseract generators, which is unlikely.”

  “I think, Atalant, that you should consider that the andal is a lot more far-reaching than you think, at least in terms of telepathic linkages.” Nicholas offered the words tentatively, as if Atalant might throw something at him for the attempt. Which she might have, even a few months ago. Not now. Not anymore.

  Atalant rubbed at her temples and then tucked several locks of hair back into her braid. She kept her eyes aimed at the ceiling, although Emn’s mental presence asked her to do otherwise. “I’m not really ready to talk about it existentially just yet. I want to deal with my planet first.”

  No one offered a rebuttal, and Emn brushed Atalant’s hand with her own. Atalant would be fine if they never revisited this conversation. There’d be enough of the same, once she arrived on Neek. Perhaps more of the same in a few minutes, if she got ahold of her uncle.

  She’d put off the call long enough. Atalant leaned towards the console and let her stuk gel to the interface. She sent a quick mental command, and an image of her uncle, the High Priest of Neek, filled the screen as the call processed. “Trying the private line. I suspect the conversation will be long and awkward, especially if I have to explain where I’ve been. I’m not sure how much I want to tell him.” She looked at Nicholas and then Emn. Hopefully, she’d managed enough of a reconciliatory tone.

  Emn got up from her chair and leaned partway on the armrest of Atalant’s chair. She slid the pilot’s hand to her lap, where she covered it with her own hand. “We’re not going anywhere, Atalant.”

  “You’d make more of an impression if you put your Eld robes back on.” Nicholas grinned and tugged at the chest of his flight suit. All traces of tension evaporated from his face. “Beige isn’t a good color on anyone, especially not an eld.”

  “There were also several dresses to choose from. Disgusting beige flight suit was not the only option.”

  Emn lifted the hem of her deep-blue dress from around her knee. Atalant took a moment to admire the short sleeves and lower cut at the chest.

  “Pass.” Nicholas clapped Atalant on the shoulder and then settled back into his chair. “Ready when you are, Captain Eld Pilot Atalant. Let’s blow your uncle’s mind.”

  Atalant tapped the console and accepted the response from the other end. The screen fuzzed to gray for a short moment before a live image of her uncle formed. He had aged significantly since she had last seen him. White hair frizzled around his face, and the laugh lines near his mouth were deeper and lower. He was still wearing his old gold robes, although this time, he had a small, round pin affixed to his collar. Atalant squinted, trying to make out the lettering just underneath the design. It looked very similar to the presidential seal. Unless her uncle had decided to become the first sir, which Atalant very much doubted, there would be no reason for him to be wearing a governmental pin.

  “Niece?!” her uncle exclaimed in a series of pops and clicks before leaning in. In Common, he said, “But you’re…we received a communication that you had died!”

  Atalant wrinkled her nose. “Well, I did, sort of. But I’m not dead anymore, thanks to Emn the first time and, uh, well, thanks to the Mmnnuggls the second time. I, uh—I did find Ardulum though. Thought you should know.”

  If her uncle’s eyes could get any bigger, they’d fall out of their sockets. Atalant waited, holding her breath, until her uncle shook his head, scanned Atalant, and let a smile spread across his face. He glanced at Nicholas, nodded, and then looked at Emn. Here, his smile faltered. Atalant didn’t think that his subtle shudder had been apparent to anyone but her.

  “Your savior? Our Emn?” he asked carefully. The high priest’s eyes tracked across Emn’s exposed skin, and then he backed from the screen.

  “Yes, I am Emn.” The younger woman squeezed Atalant’s hand. Do you want me to explain the flaring to him? Might ease confusion if we’re about to be on-world.

  The high priest began talking again before Atalant could respond. “Forgive me, Emn. Flare Emn? I’m unsure what designation you prefer. It—” He rubbed the sides of his face. “—is a pleasure to see you again. Adulthood suits you.”

  “You’re familiar with flares?” Atalant asked, forgoing protocol.

  Her uncle shrugged, gaze directed at the ground. “Ekimet has allowed me full access to zir Ardulan database. I’ve learned a great deal as of late—which is why, you’ll note, I’m not having a breakdown over you finding the Ardulum planet.
You, Niece, however, are a miraculous surprise. Your parents will be overjoyed!” His head came up. A tired smile stretched across his face. “Ardulum brings us together again, my dear niece. Though our positions are somewhat reversed.” His smile warmed, although the tension stayed near his eyes. “Are you considering another visit?” He tugged at the pin on his collar. “You and Emn and Nicholas would be welcome on-world. We would all so love to see you.”

  Atalant stared at her uncle, mouth agape, until Nicholas nudged her. “Yes. Yes, but, well—” she stuttered. “I know there has been some…trouble near Neek.” Unsure how best to fish for information since her uncle was clearly still alive and the room he was in didn’t seem to be under siege by sentient beach balls, Atalant continued. “How are you doing with the Ardulans?”

  The high priest sat down, heavily. He leaned forward until his head was in his hands and buried his fingers in his white hair, clenching at the strands. “As well as can be expected.” The response was muffled. “Miketh and Ekimet are expecting you.”

  Atalant swallowed past the lump in her throat. There was one theory confirmed. However, the way her uncle was reacting… This wasn’t the reunion Atalant had expected. Exuberant vindication, yes, but to be so…defeated, especially with Ardulans on-world?

  “You have to tell him, Atalant.” Nicholas’s voice was just a whisper, but it passed across the comm line. Her uncle’s head rose. Tears stained his cheeks. “Atalant?” he asked. A double question.

  Atalant nodded, moisture gathering in her own eyes now, her stuk thinned to dripping. Damn stress. “My child-name is my own again.” She stood back and lifted her pant leg, exposing her Talent mark for Mind, and then unfastened the top of her flight suit and pulled up her shirt to show her Aggression marking. “Ardulum has a sense of humor.”

  Her uncle’s mouth opened and closed in silence. The moisture cleared from his eyes, and in his face, Atalant saw a familiar yearning. She cursed to herself.

  “Eld Atalant, then, I suppose,” her uncle offered.

  “I suppose.” At least he wasn’t groveling. Then again, that would have been a normal reaction, for him. Something wasn’t right.

  “Two elds on the planet Neek.” The high priest shook his head. “An unprecedented event that tastes more ashen than even our planet. I wonder—”

  Atalant cut in. “Wait, Eld Ekimet? You can confirm you have an eld on-planet?”

  “Yes.” Her uncle’s eyes widened. “I thought it was a secret only from the Neek?” When Atalant could only shake her head, he continued. “Zie has been trying to get the attention of Ardulum. Everyone has, including the Mmnnuggls. That’s why—” His voice got softer. “The fires…” He looked back at the floor. “We’ve only been trying to keep them from catching in the inhabited areas. Not full suppression. But the Mmnnuggls keep setting new ones, and I didn’t stop to think…”

  “Monocultures,” Atalant said without thinking. Old articles from The Neek Journal of Science and Technology came rushing into her mind.

  “That, and years of preventing controlled forest fires has caused a buildup of undergrowth. All because we’ve been growing for tree production and not forest health, and Cell-Tal didn’t want us to use chemical suppression on ground plants. The fires rampage. We will never get them under control. The Guard has been trying. Eld Ekimet let them go this morning, to do everything they could but… The forests… I’m afraid the forests are lost. We tried to evacuate as many as we could, but some refused to leave their homes. We have the traditionalists, you know, in the mountains and some of the lowlands, and they…”

  “Lost.” Atalant let that sink into her mind. The old-growth andal, the plantations, the forest communities that lived without electricity and relied on wood fuel… The economy. The Charted Systems. Cell-Tal. Her home.

  “I’m coming, Uncle.” Atalant spoke resolutely. There was still time. Not all the forests were gone yet. The Lucidity could help—they just needed to get there. “The Ardulan ships can generate tesseracts, so I’m only a few minutes away, but I won’t get far without landing clearance, no matter how many Talent marks I may have. Can you arrange that with the president?” Atalant grimaced at the thought of having to interact with the man again. If his hands came anywhere near her chest this time, she’d just remove them. Surely that was in the purview of the Eld?

  Her uncle snorted, and the edges of his mouth turned downwards. “That part, at least, is not an issue.” He pulled at the emblem on his robes. “I’m sure you recognize this. I took it from the president right before I had him publicly executed.”

  “What?” The voice was Nicholas’s. Atalant’s mouth was open, mouthing the word, but no sound had come out. Emn’s hand was gripping tightly onto Atalant’s, maybe a bit too tightly.

  Her uncle’s demeanor changed. He sat up straight in his chair, once again the commanding presence she had known. His words, when they came, held no traces of the previous melancholy. “The Heaven Guard report to me, Atalant. Even with recent revelations, what the president did to you and Emn, what he almost cost us in terms of Ardulum, was unacceptable. I led a charge against him, and I won.” He tapped something offscreen, and a set of coordinates fed into the Lucidity’s computer. “Clearance for the presidential landing pad. You are welcome on Neek at any time, Eld Atalant, Emn, and Nicholas.” The high priest inclined his head, although his eyes did not leave Atalant’s. “The bigger issue we must deal with is how you will manage to get through the Mmnnuggl blockade. They’ve never blocked our communications, perhaps hoping we’d make the call to Ardulum. Of course, none of us had any idea where the planet was in the first place. Eld Ekimet… It was assumed that Ardulum would make contact before arriving and that tactics could be discussed with one more qualified than Ekimet or Miketh, neither of whom are Aggression Talents.”

  All of that took a moment to sink in. The president was dead. Her exile was over. She could see her family again. She could introduce Emn to her parents, show Nicholas the Heaven Guard training facilities. She could go home. Really go home.

  “The blockade,” Atalant began and then thought better of it. “Uncle, I think you’d better put me in contact with Eld Ekimet. Zie and I should have a discussion before I return.”

  “As you wish, Eld.” The way he said the title sounded funny to Atalant, but she couldn’t quite figure out why. As he reached to terminate the connection, he managed a strained smile. “Niece. Atalant. I’ll be delighted to welcome you home.”

  BURNING! THE ANDAL yelled into Atalant’s mind as the Scarlet Lucidity emerged in the middle of a Risalian-Mmnnuggl fleet surrounding the planet Neek. Heat seared her skin and activated thick stuk production across her body. Atalant collapsed in pain.

  BURNING, ATALANT! WE ARE NOT ADAPTED! the trees screamed, but not in unison. The cries overlapped one another and formed a nearly indistinguishable clamor in Atalant’s skull. The pilot curled tightly in on herself and buried her head between her knees, trying desperately to block the sound.

  “Atalant! Emn!” Nicholas’s voice was barely audible over the cacophony in her head. Was it affecting Emn too? She couldn’t spare enough mental energy to check. The heat was too intense. Her clothes burned. She felt her skin peeling from her body, although, after opening an eye to check, Atalant confirmed this was not actually happening. The air felt thick and smoky, and she was stuck, unable to move, as stuk boiled on her skin.

  “I’m— I’m trying to reach her,” Emn said between gasps. Atalant wanted to call out to Emn, to make sure she was all right, but was certain that if she turned her head, it would snap from her neck. In her mind, thin strands of consciousness were snuffed out of existence, each one ushering in a pinprick of emptiness. The fire was more extensive than she had thought. It hadn’t felt so large, all the way on Ardulum. Distance must have mitigated the call. There was so much heat! Half the planet had to be on fire right now. How was anyone still alive?

  “C’mon, here, take my hand. There you go.” Nicholas’s voice was
even farther away than Emn’s. “Can you— Oh shit! We’re being hailed by a Nugel pod!”

  “Nnnn,” Atalant managed to get out over the FIREFIREFIRE! in her mind. If they didn’t respond quickly to the hail, they’d likely be shot out of the sky. That’d end her mental pain quickly enough, she supposed, but really wasn’t how she had planned on going out.

  “Okay, Nicholas, just a little bit… There!” On Emn’s final word, everything went silent. The andal was gone from Atalant’s mind. Her skin wasn’t burning anymore, and her stuk production normalized. A slow chirp chirp from the panel was the only thing she now heard.

  “Emn…” Atalant began as she prodded at her own mind. “I appreciate the block, but please don’t tell me—”

  Emn was at her side then, an arm around Atalant’s waist to help her to stand. The carpet in the cockpit was gone, as was the decorative wood paneling, and a fine white dust coated every surface. “Just a selective block, Atalant. Your telepathy is still on. So is mine. I just…filtered the andal a little.”

  “The planet is not going to be happy about that,” Atalant muttered as Emn eased her into the pilot’s chair. “At least I didn’t melt the chairs.”

  “I don’t really care what the planet thinks.” Emn tucked a strand of hair behind Atalant’s ear. “I’m not here to save Neek or Ardulum.” If you need me for more than emotional backup, just let me know. Emn let her hand rest on the top of the console. In a strange show of double vision, Atalant felt Emn through the ship’s telepathic interface as well as directly in her own mind. It gave the pilot a brief bout of motion sickness before she was able to push the secondary vision away.

  Nicholas dug his fingers into the arms of his chair. His pocket quivered. “If you two are ready, then yup. Let’s do this.”

  Her hand still trembling slightly from feeling her skin burn off, Atalant initiated the comm. Instantly, a shriek of Mmnnuggl chittering, from several individuals, filled the cockpit.