by S. H. Jucha
When Celsius was freed from his box and completed his annual of mandatory service, he chose a convoluted name. However, when he discovered that non-implanted individuals had difficulty with his name, he changed his ID. Now, his new name didn’t accurately explain his synth skin, which was dark blue and decorated with drips of crystal-clear frozen water.
“Understood, Admiral,” the SADE replied.
Celsius linked to the ship’s controller. The star coordinates of the alliance systems resided there. He produced a three-dimensional model of the data. Then he tagged the two systems that had been visited by the battleships. Finally, he included the fleet’s exit vector from the present system.
“Admiral, the federacy fleet’s deviance from its first point of contact to this one is unknown,” Celsius said. “However, the exit vector from here is consistent with its general direction of travel.”
“Possible alliance targets?” Deirdre requested.
“Three have significant probability, Admiral. Two are low, and one is high,” Celsius replied.
“How many systems between here and the alliance location with the high probability?” Deirdre requested.
“Eleven,” Celsius replied.
“That gives us the time we need,” Deirdre mused. “Celsius, new message to my command and the scouts. They’re to rendezvous at the alliance system that you’ve identified with high confidence. Tell them that I believe the federacy fleet will eventually make that location.”
Celsius sent the message, adding the star coordinates for the alliance system.
Deirdre sent a crew member to request Olawale, Patrice, Ophelia, and Aputi meet her in her quarters.
“Captain, make for the station that’s off the planet’s second moon,” Deirdre ordered. Then she exited the bridge for her cabin.
Joining the foursome, who sat around her salon’s table, Deirdre said, “I need to get a cube message to the Freedom.”
“Will Jess have taken over the Pimborian dome by now is the question,” Olawale commented.
“There’s always sending the message to your Trident at Hyronzy,” Ophelia suggested.
“I intend to do both,” Deirdre replied, “but I’m hoping the captain has been successful at Pimbor. Celsius believes he’s identified the fleet’s next alliance contact after it checks out eleven other stars.”
“Do any of those stars offer habitable planets?” Patrice asked.
“We don’t have that data,” Deirdre replied. “If the battleships don’t show at the alliance system in a reasonable amount of time, we can backtrack along those eleven stars and see if we can find them.”
“Then you plan to wait for the federacy fleet at the alliance system,” Olawale proposed.
“Yes, and I need the Freedom and Darius’s command to join my command there,” Deirdre replied.
“What alliance race is here?” Ophelia inquired.
Deirdre linked to Celsius for the information. “They’re known as the Usaanans,” she said.
“Wonderful,” Aputi grumped. “The sand serpents.”
“Problem?” Deirdre queried.
“The Usaanans are an old race,” Ophelia replied. “They governed the Tsargit for many centuries and were eventually marginalized. They’ve got attitude.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Aputi added. “They’re a testy lot with short tempers.”
“Well, regardless of their attitudes, I need to use their dome and send a priority message to Pimbor,” Deirdre said unequivocally.
“There is some good news here,” Ophelia remarked. “In this case, we don’t have to procure transport to the dome. We just need the Usaanans to cooperate with us and send the message to Pimbor for you.”
“What type of ruling body do they possess?” Olawale asked.
“A council, which is headed by a regent,” Aputi replied. “The council selects the regent, who is almost always one of their own.”
“How democratic of them,” Patrice commented sarcastically.
“No, it doesn’t,” Ophelia replied. “And for the app exchange to take place, we require close proximity.”
Aputi groaned and muttered, “Only one thing worse than a sand serpent is a whole planet of them.”
“We’ll drop planetside to meet with the council or regent,” Deirdre said. “How do you propose we meet them?”
“With force,” Aputi replied definitively.
“The lieutenant isn’t wrong,” Ophelia explained. She forestalled Deirdre’s questions, and quickly added, “I don’t mean exiting your traveler with plasma rifles at the ready, but the Usaana only respond to displays of power.”
“So, if the admiral politely requests the Usaanans help ...” Patrice offered.
“She would be bluntly refused, if not ignored,” Ophelia finished.
“Why?” Deirdre inquired. “We’re here to help the alliance.”
“That’s exactly the point, Admiral,” Ophelia replied. “To the Usaanans, their primary problem is solved. The aggressor force has left their system. They were repelled.”
“The Usaanans retain a grudge about being sidelined by the Tsargit membership,” Aputi added. “They’d rather suffer the consequences of a rogue battleship fleet than further the Tsargit’s aims.”
“Ah,” Deirdre murmured. “Then the Usaanans need a reason to work with us beyond their frustrations with the alliance.”
“That’s correct, Admiral,” Ophelia said with a smile. She’d sensed the shift in Deirdre’s mood and was pleased that Aputi and she had managed to convey the challenge the Omnians would face in dealing with the Usaanans.
* * * * *
“Regent Umtrat, the Omnian warship is overhead. A shuttle is descending from the ship,” a councilor reported.
“Where is it headed?” Umtrat inquired.
“It appears headed to the landing pad outside our colony, Regent,” the councilor replied.
“How could they know the regent and the council reside here?” a second councilor asked.
“They might not know,” the first councilor replied. “It could be a coincidence.”
“Not likely,” the regent said, with a dismissive hiss. “Not with over three thousand colonies on this planet.”
“What should be our response?” another councilor asked.
“The Tsargit’s messages warned us of two fleets ... an adversarial one and one that intends to aid the alliance,” Umtrat said. “We’ve experienced the first, which is gone, and now we’ve an appearance by a ship from the second, which has no value to us.”
“Then you wish to ignore them?” a councilor inquired. He was unsure this was a wise decision.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Umtrat replied testily. He’d risen on some of his length to stare down at the councilor.
“What if they use force to enter our colony?” a councilor asked. “Wouldn’t it be safer for our citizens to demonstrate our resolve at the landing pad?”
“What are some of you saying?” a councilor asked, hissing in shock. “That’s a warship above us. It sails the stars and is only one ship in a great fleet. Furthermore, its citizens are purported to be helping our races, and you would meet its representatives with force?”
“No resistance,” Umtrat said definitively. “We simply choose not to cooperate. Let the Tsargit solve the alliance’s problems.”
A councilor listened to his ear wig. Then he said, “The visitors’ shuttle is down, Regent.”
* * * * *
Major Standish and Aputi Tulafono led the team off
the traveler. The pair nervously touched the places where their weapons were usually located — Wes, his hip, and Aputi, his shoulder. Deirdre had ordered the weapons be left onboard the shuttle.
Wes and Aputi were followed by Deirdre, Ophelia, Olawale, Patrice, and Celsius.
On landing, the pilot had placed the traveler’s port side, with its hatch, away from the harsh rays of the star. He’d wanted to put the passengers in the shade on disembarking. The planet’s star was past its zenith, but its bright rays could burn the skin within a half hour and damage the eyes even sooner than that.
“Hot,” Aputi commented. He’d been outside the traveler for less than a few minutes, but his body had difficulty cooling his mass. He began overheating and sweating.
“Agreed,” Olawale added, mopping at his brow.
“Something to be said for being a Méridien,” Deirdre interjected. Despite her lithe figure, she was already feeling uncomfortable.
“You’ll note, Admiral, that we don’t have a reception committee,” Ophelia said, after a quarter hour had passed.
“You’d think the citizens would be curious about our ship and us,” Patrice commented.
“Don’t forget that a federacy race just landed near here,” Deirdre said. “We can presume the explosion that telemetry reported were shuttles that belonged to the battleships. That’s enough to make the locals reticent to rush out and greet new visitors. We’ll give them another quarter hour.”
When Deirdre could no longer stand the hot, dry winds that blew across the landing pad, she called a halt to their attempt to entice the Usaanans to meet with them. “Board,” she ordered, and decorum was abandoned, as individuals, except for Celsius, raced for the hatch and the traveler’s cool interior.
Inside, water and juice were drunk in copious quantities.
When Deirdre was refreshed, she said, “Celsius, please provide our guests with a holo-vid view.” Then she ordered the pilot to lift and observe the enclave from overhead.
As the traveler floated above the Usaanan buildings, Deirdre said, “Any suggestions are welcome.”
“I’ve seen images of these discrete communities before,” Aputi said excitedly. “A friend studied the architectural styling of alliance races. She said the enclaves’ plazas are critical to the populace.”
“How so?” Deidre asked.
“This is a desert planet, Admiral,” Aputi explained. “The populace’s water sources are huge underground cisterns, which is why you see distinct enclaves dotted across the planet.”
“It’s like the oases of Earth’s deserts,” Olawale exclaimed. “In early history, water was precious to the tribes that lived there, and possession of pools of water and wells were the stuff of strife and wars.”
“Go on, Aputi,” Deirdre requested.
“The lack of atmospheric moisture and dense vegetation make the days extremely hot and the nights bone chillingly cold,” Aputi said. It’s during the twilight hours that the citizens are most active outside their buildings.”
“Admiral, note how the buildings are arranged in clusters,” Celsius said. “Each cluster surrounds a plaza.”
“Celsius, how soon will star set put this particular community in dusk?” Patrice asked.
“Approximately two point five hours,” Celsius replied.
“Might I suggest, Admiral, that we depart so that we don’t interfere with the Usaanans’ regular activities,” Patrice said.
“What are you thinking?” Deirdre asked, even as she signaled the pilot to lift for space.
“We know you’re searching for a nonaggressive means of entreating the council or regent to meet with you,” Patrice said. “Aputi tells us the plazas are critical to this society. Let’s observe how and when they use them. Then, if it’s to our advantage, we can drop travelers into four of their five plazas at prime time.”
“Good idea,” Deirdre replied. “We interfere with their rituals a few times, and the councilors and regent might be persuaded to leave their retreats.”
Deirdre ordered the pilot to make for space and return to the Deliverance. She and the others had an opportunity to clean up and get an early meal.
Then, a half hour before the twilight hours claimed the target enclave, four travelers launched from the Trident. Three of the ships contained only pilots. The fourth held the same passengers who had first landed.
The pilots were ordered to maintain positions high overhead, while Deirdre and company waited for the star’s intense rays to leave the enclave’s buildings.
It wasn’t long after dusk enveloped the community that shopkeepers, artisans, and various other trades spilled from the buildings and set up stalls in the plazas.
“I knew you said sand serpents, Aputi,” Patrice remarked, staring into Celsius’s holo-vid imagery, “but I didn’t think you meant it literally.”
As dusk faded to twilight, lanterns lit the plazas and the community came alive. Citizens poured out of their homes to congregate, enjoy food and drink, and peruse the many offerings.
Deirdre chose four of the five plazas, as displayed in the controller’s telemetry, and she assigned a pilot to each one of them.
* * * * *
The councilors strolled through the marketplaces, enjoying the evening. Most of them were pleased with the regent, whose plan was working. The visitors in their strange shuttle had left. Their tri-hulled ship remained above, but it was expected to depart the system soon.
The regent, Umtrat, slithered from his residence and into the plaza, confident in his position and power. He relished the citizens touching their palms together, as he passed.
Unexpectedly, Umtrat heard a chorused hissing from the citizens. He followed their gazes to the ship that descended from directly above him. He dropped to the plaza’s stones and expected to be crushed. Instead, the ship stopped about two body lengths above him. Rising from his undignified dive, he hissed his displeasure at the ship and its visitors.
The citizens around the regent deserted the plaza for their homes. Trades individuals left their stalls and their wares, where they had so artfully arranged them.
Councilors rushed to the regent’s side and shared the news that the visitors’ shuttles occupied three other plazas.
“Any injury to our citizens or damage to the buildings or stalls?” Umtrat asked.
“Not in our plaza,” a councilor replied. “It’s the same as here.” He’d indicated the ship floating above them, with his short arm.
“So much for ignoring them,” a councilor commented. He’d been an individual who hadn’t voted for the regent.
“Let’s retire,” Umtrat directed. “These ships will depart sooner or later. Despite their mysterious technology, they can’t stay aloft forever.”
Naturally, Umtrat was wrong, which he discovered in the cool morning hours, when he saw the visitors’ ships still occupying the plazas.
To Umtrat’s dismay, citizens hadn’t returned to the plazas even though the visitors hadn’t demonstrated any hostile actions. The exceptions were the occasional adventurous stall owners, who in the company of family members, slithered out to recover his or her wares and race back to their residences.
As the morning’s first hour passed, the citizens grew irritated with the visitors’ interference, and they directed their anger at the council. Their complaints fell upon the tympanums of each councilor and the regent. The citizens wanted to know what was making the visitors act in such an ungracious manner. Unfortunately, the council had no answer for the complainants because the regent deigned not to speak with them.
Umtrat soon found citizens gathering at the door of his residence and demanding that he take action.
“If you’re going to do something, Regent,” a councilor said. “I suggest you do it before this cycle ends. The c
itizenry won’t accept the ruin of another evening’s marketplace.”
Umtrat regarded the councilors, who had met with him early in the morning. Their dark eyes regarded him coolly. Overnight, he had lost much of their support.
Hissing in anger, Umtrat made his way out of his residence. He was determined to end the visitors’ actions and preserve his regency. In the plaza, he approached the bow of a shuttle, extended his length imperially, and held the position.
Deirdre received the image of the posturing Usaanan, as relayed by the other pilot to her. She responded to the pilot, who floated above the citizen.
The regent watched the ship float upward. When it paused and swiveled, he comprehended the message. He slid to the plaza’s stonework and made his way to his building, where the councilors waited for him.
“We’ll meet the visitors,” Umtrat sighed in resignation. “Follow me.” Then he led the councilors across the plaza and between buildings toward the landing pad.
As the visitors appeared, a councilor hissed, in surprise, “Humans ... many species of humans.”
Umtrat and the councilors slithered across the sands to the pad. They stopped at the pad’s edge, resting in the cool sands. There, they waited for the humans to come to them.
As Deirdre led her party toward the Usaanans, the ear wigs detected new contacts, and the translation apps updated.
Suddenly, Deirdre and her group heard Umtrat in their ear wigs. The regent hissed, “Why are you harassing us?”
Deirdre held her temper in check. She briefly wondered how Alex managed to negotiate first contacts. “We’ve a simple request,” she replied.
“State it and be gone,” Umtrat demanded.
“You’ll need to record a message and send priority cubes to Pimbor and Hyronzy,” Deirdre said.