by C. Gockel
But the son was not the father.
Her mother had put her delusions to rest a week before the wedding, letting her know about his patronage of his uncle’s servant that “everyone in the neighborhood knew about.”
It was, perhaps, wrong of her to be angry at her mother for shattering her hopes. Better to know what she was getting into. At least Alaric hadn’t been as foolishly extravagant with his weere as her father. Her eyes fell on the book of sign language on his knee. He was learning sign language for their son. There was that, as well.
She adjusted the folds of her skirt. The weere woman had not come home with the Merkabah and was in the Republic. The affair was over. Maybe they could put it in the past.
Alaric’s legs trembled, and the book tumbled to the floor. The werfle gave a terrified squeak. Her husband’s eyes bolted open and he threw out a hand. “Volka!”
Spinning in a swirl of skirts, Alexis charged toward the stairs. Hoping she hadn’t been noticed and hoping that she had been. In the study, she heard Alaric groan. “What has happened to them?”
Alexis’s face threatened to crumple, but when she passed a mirror her reflection was as calm as a statue, and the moisture at the corner of her eyes didn’t show.
7
Alien Craft
Uncharted Space
“Volka!” 6T9 cried. His hands were on her shoulders. He almost shook her, but internal applications seized on the force his coiled synthetic muscles wished to administer, diagnosed them as being near dangerous, and shut those muscles down. “Volka, come back! You must tell Sundancer to leave.”
Her eyes were vacant; her pupils didn’t track him.
“Wake up!” James commanded Carl Sagan, holding the creature aloft. James’s expression was distressed, but then he shook Carl, and for a terrifying moment, 6T9 was afraid he’d injure the werfle.
Turning his head, 6T9 said, “Don’t—”
Volka’s hands encircled his wrists, and his head spun back to her so fast his gears whizzed.
“Sundancer,” she said, closing her eyes, palms warm even through his sleeve. “We have to leave!”
“She shouldn’t have taken her armor off!” James cursed.
6T9 agreed. From the drone he’d detached from the armor, he’d known thirty seconds ago that the pressure outside the craft had dropped. Alien drones controlled by the Dark had breached the internal sanctuary.
Focusing on Volka, 6T9 couldn’t see the approaching weapons, but his computational apps unhelpfully put impact of the first of the fifty-nine alien drones at 2.5 seconds. Outside, the alien craft began to blur. They were moving, but 6T9’s brow furrowed. Their acceleration wasn’t fast enough. Impact was now 3.5 seconds away—
“It’s okay, Sixty,” Volka said, yellow eyes opening. “Sundancer isn’t afraid.”
“Well, she should be,” James said.
“Look behind you,” Volka said, her yellow eyes still on 6T9. He didn’t want to look away, but he did.
They were approaching a wall. Before he could blink, it opened to darkness. Sundancer shot in. A millisecond later, they were surrounded by red light. The abandoned external sensor was still in the main chamber, and 6T9 could only hope the lights were emitting infrared as well as red wavelengths. The door they’d entered had closed, and only thirty of the drones were chasing them. Dark “fuzzy” patches appeared in the wall, Sundancer’s velocity slowed, sixteen of the drones vanished into the patches, but then the ship shot forward, still chased by the remaining ones.
A wall appeared. James swore.
“It’s all right,” Volka said.
“There could be more out there,” James said.
The wall irised open, and just as James had predicted, drones were zipping around the wreck. Sundancer plunged into the swarm…6T9’s Q-comm went dark…and the world around them went white.
“You see,” said Volka, when the world came back into focus. “She wasn’t afraid.”
Q-comm humming again, 6T9 realized the “white” had been the light of the ship traveling faster than light. Her hull became translucent again, and below them was the familiar surface of the dark side of Earth’s moon, lights of the robotic titanium mines glittering. He reached out to the local ethernet out of habit and connected.
6T9 released a breath. “Sundancer escaped so easily—but on the planet S33O4 she was struck down during the first attack…”
Gazing down at the moon’s lights, Volka frowned. “She was sacrificing herself, trying to protect us on S33O4.” She looked very sad. Lifting her head, she said, “I have to tell you everything Carl and I saw when we…” Her brow furrowed. “What exactly did it appear happened to us on your end?”
“Your eyes became glazed,” 6T9 said.
“Carl lay down and started snoring,” said James, holding the limp werfle on an arm.
Volka smiled. “Not much different than usual, then?”
Carl abruptly let loose a snore worthy of an elephant. Starting, the creature sat up and said, “What was that noise?”
6T9 blinked.
Face becoming serious, Volka said, “Carl, we need to tell them what you, Alaric, and I saw.”
“Alaric?” said 6T9.
“Captain Darmadi?” said James.
“Sundancer sucked him into the dream, or memory, or whatever,” said Carl, “when Volka wanted him there.”
Sixty felt a sudden tic in his neck, his head jerked, and he took a step back. Over the ether, restaurants on Earth, Moon, and Time Gate 1 began pinging him with their latest menu updates. Clothing stores that his ether hail had alerted to his presence pinged him with sales. All the messages were tailored to his unique tastes, and yet he felt invisible and unseen.
“Memory of what?” James asked.
“The aliens and their civilization,” Carl replied, stretching eight paws and giving a yawn.
“Darmadi knows about them?” James asked, eyebrow hiking.
“He does now,” said Carl.
“Such a shame,” said Volka, not sounding at all contrite about having delivered intel to a Luddeccean officer. Luddeccea wasn’t precisely an enemy at the moment. They weren’t a friend either, and a large percentage of the Luddeccean population would have cheerfully seen James and 6T9 slagged. Of course, Alaric was her officer. 6T9’s head tic started again, and he smacked a hand up to stop it.
A muscle in James’s jaw jumped. But, rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “I’ll explain this to Intel somehow. Better get started telling us about this dream-memory that the Luddecceans know all about.”
Static flaring under his skin, 6T9 said, “Couldn’t you have summoned Archbishop Sato?”
Every head turned to him. 6T9 mentally played back his words. He’d spoken loudly, not shouted, but close. “Maybe I need to reboot.”
Lifting himself to his hindmost legs, Carl dismissively waved a paw. “Kenji wouldn’t have had Alaric’s practical experience in agriculture and starship captaining.” He gestured in Volka’s direction. “And Volka discovered what may be an alien computer and how the aliens may have communicated in person.” His whiskers twitched, and he scratched an ear. “Which was really quite good, Volka. Solomon is still going on about how smart Alaric is and noble, brave, helpful, and attractive as hairless creatures go, but—”
6T9 snapped, “Would you just get on with it!”
“You need something, Pet?” Carl asked, eyes narrowed.
Straightening, 6T9 checked his chronometer. “Volka has some paintings to deliver in System 5 and I’m scheduled for some maintenance there.” He blinked. “That’s probably what’s wrong with me.”
Ears flattening, Carl licked the tip of a sharp, curved claw.
James leveled a stare at him.
Clearing her throat, Volka said, “It was the most elaborate dream we’ve ever witnessed, and we know it was imperative for us to see it, but we don’t know why.” Volka and Carl went on to describe the dream-memory—or whatever it had been.
“Only E
M drives?” James said. “That seems impossible for a civilization so advanced.”
“Maybe it was that particular ship?” 6T9 suggested.
Carl and Volka continued to tell their tale. When they reached the point where the dream ended, the alien submitting itself sadly, James shook his head. “It is interesting, but I’m not sure how it is helpful. We need to know how they defended themselves.”
“It felt so important to her that she show us that, though,” Volka said.
6T9’s hand drifted to the ashes in his coat pocket. “Maybe what she wanted to show was the aliens themselves. Maybe she didn’t understand the purpose of our mission…she wanted to show how...good...they were.” Willing to sacrifice themselves for their friends, as Sundancer had done for them. His brow furrowed. “Maybe it was a eulogy. Those can be necessary, too.”
Everyone looked at him. Carl stood up on James’s arm and scratched an ear. “That might be correct.” His little shoulders sagged.
Volka’s ears curled. “Maybe…” Her ears came forward. “Alaric said that they must have a warrior class.”
6T9’s head tic came back with a vengeance. He really needed that maintenance.
8
Drop Off
Galactic Republic Space
Outside Sundancer, the surface of Time Gate 1 gleamed in Sol’s sunlight. If they had been closer, Volka would have been able to see the pockmarks left in the band by hurtling pieces of space debris. From where they were now, it appeared as a brilliant, pristine ring as bright as the moon. Earth hovered below, a sapphire jewel enshrouded in clouds. She hoped she could paint the scene someday.
The wish entered her thoughts. For a moment, a vision of herself from behind, with an easel in front of her and Earth swirling beyond, swept through her mind, and her heart overflowed with warmth. It was Sundancer’s vision she was seeing. Volka interpreted it as, “I will help! I will help!” and smiled.
“We’re cleared for docking on the third level airlock 53,” Sixty announced.
Carl, sitting on James’s forearm, said, “Picturing it for Sundancer.” Yawning, he closed his eyes, and Sundancer maneuvered towards an airlock door. A light came on above it, and it slowly began to open.
James said to Volka, “I’ve relayed the intel about the crystals possibly being a computing device to the research team. That might turn out to be useful.”
Volka sensed he didn’t think the rest of the dream-possibly-eulogy had been useful. To her it had just felt so significant. But grief was a significant thing to humans—she glanced at Sixty, gazing down at the time gate—to androids, and probably to sentient spaceships, too.
“I hope it is.” James ran a hand through his hair, an uncharacteristic sign of nervousness. “The World Sphere is nearly equidistant from the Kanakah Cloud and System 33.”
Volka’s ears drooped. System 33 was the system where human researchers had accidentally encountered the Dark. It had arrived in that system via an asteroid. The Kanakah Cloud held time gates to the Galactic Republic—and it was only a few months at light speed from Luddeccea. Pirates hid out in the Kanakah and entered the Luddeccean system. She shivered. The away team had to be successful.
As though hearing her thoughts, Sixty said, “Lishi and his team are the best ‘bots in their fields. They’ll find something.”
Thinking of the cheerful robots they’d left behind, Volka asked, “The away team hasn’t been discovered by the Dark’s drones yet?”
The barest hint of a wry smile appeared on James’s face. “No, the Dark doesn’t ‘see us,’ Carl assures me. Maybe that is why it doesn’t want us?”
“You threaten it. It can’t control you,” Volka said.
Looking away, James frowned. “Some of our kind don’t believe it is our enemy because of that.”
Volka’s ears perked. She’d not heard that.
“What?” Sixty said, attention going to the other android. “Who? No one told me.”
James lifted an eyebrow.
“Oh, right,” Sixty grumbled. “Because I like sex and food, I’m too ‘human’ to talk about such weighty machine matters.”
Volka tilted her head. Was it also because he cared about humans and knew the importance of eulogies?
Raising a hand toward James, Sixty declared, “But you like sex and food, and they tell you these things.”
James lifted his opposite eyebrow.
Sixty rolled his eyes. “Because you have gravitas that I don’t.”
James shrugged.
Sixty persisted. “The Dark promised to destroy our kind.”
James shook his head. “Inertia breeds complacency in humans and machines alike.”
Volka’s ears flicked. Did inertia breed complacency? The Republic and its machines hadn’t waged war on Luddeccea in over a hundred years, and yet Luddecceans had remained prepared for an imminent attack. Luddecceans weren’t complacent; but then, they were usually described by people in the Galactic Republic as fanatics.
Sundancer’s hull lost its transparency. The ship had moved them into the airlock. The outer door was sealed and a light in the inner door flashed green. Sundancer’s floor irised open. James approached the opening but turned at the edge. “The Republic is grateful to your service. Noa and I are grateful,” he said, referring to his wife. “Can we treat you to—?”
Bracelet chirped on Volka’s wrist. “Thirty minutes to your meeting with Lord Grey of System 5, Miss Volka.” Volka’s ears went sideways. As much as she’d wanted to participate in the mission to the World Sphere, it hadn’t paid well. Something about senators not wanting to offer another credit to the project after trillions spent on armor. She and Sixty still had bills to pay. Sixty had blown up a luxury spaceship he’d borrowed when he rescued her, and if they missed payments they’d lose their home on the asteroid—and Sixty might go to jail. They still had a delivery service. “I’m sorry. I have to deliver a commission.” And Volka still painted on commission. This particular delivery was going to pay twice.
Sixty took the still-sleeping Carl from James’s arm. “And I have a maintenance appointment with Dr. Walker. She’s on leave in System 5.” Sixty waggled his eyebrows, and Volka looked at the ceiling. She would have thought that with the “scheduled maintenance” with Walker he would not have needed the “tune up” with Celeste and Bart earlier. She didn’t dare ask about it, though—she’d get details.
James’s blue eyes slid to Volka’s. James was, on the outside, exactly what Luddecceans would expect a machine that looked like a man to be. He seemed nearly unemotional. It was a lie—Volka had seen him break down. Now she thought that his look was a code, but she wasn’t sure what it meant. “I’d love to go out with you and Noa,” she said truthfully. “But we better go.”
James nodded. “You’ll hear from Noa and me soon.”
“Is that a threat?” Sixty asked, stepping closer to Volka.
“You know we’ll help in any way we can,” Volka said.
Carl snored, sniffed, and licked his lips.
Giving a wave that was half a salute, James jumped out of the ship, landed lightly on his feet, and walked out of view. Sundancer closed her iris opening. Her walls became transparent, and Volka saw James exit the airlock through a massive glass door. His wife Admiral Noa Sato, sister of Luddeccea’s Archbishop Sato, was there. Noa—as the admiral insisted Volka call her—was as dark as James was pale. To Volka’s eyes, she looked to be an extraordinarily beautiful fifty year old, though she was over one hundred and sixty if she remembered correctly. Noa’s curly, short gray hair was a halo that nearly seemed to glow. When she saw James, her face lit up and she spread her arms. James picked her up and spun her around so his face was to the ship, but his eyes weren’t on Sundancer or her crew. All his attention was on Noa. The stoic android put Noa down, stroked her face, and beamed before he kissed her.
Volka felt a stab of loneliness.
Beside her, Sixty sighed. “Nebulas, wouldn’t you want some of that?”
; Volka blinked. Had her longing been so obvious?
Shaking his head, Sixty sighed. “It’s no use. For over a century, I’ve tried to get them to have a threesome.”
Volka did not sigh. Sixty was just “programmed that way.” Raising her wrist, she said, “Bracelet, will you please show a hologram of System 5, please?”
A hologram sprung from Bracelet’s apex.
Bending over Volka’s shoulder to look at it, Sixty exhaled with so much force that Volka could feel his breath tickle her ears. “Finally, I can take my favorite carbon-based life forms…” he looked up at the ship, “... and others, to a place where I don’t have to worry about any of you dying. System 5 is the safest, most civilized system in the galaxy.”
Tilting her head, Volka’s ears flicked. That’s what Luddecceans said about their home world, too.
9
The Best Laid Plans
Galactic Republic Planet S5O4
Portfolio under one arm, Volka craned her neck upward. The glass-walled skyscrapers of the city of New Grande on Planet S5O4 put Earth Chicago to shame. They reflected the blue skies, clouds, and the snow-covered canyon walls like giant canvases. Enormous mirrors, sparkling on the buildings’ corners, caught the light and reflected it down into New Grande, 3,500 meters below the top of the canyon’s snow-blanketed walls, to where Sixty and she stood at a crossroads—of the literal kind.
The canyon ran north-south, and in those directions New Grande stretched as far as Volka could see. But if she looked east and west, she could see the canyon walls that were the site of System 5’s famous Vertical Gardens. S5O4’s average temperature was colder than Earth’s or Luddeccea’s; however, it had deep canyons that crisscrossed its single continent, and New Grande was twenty degrees warmer at the bottom than the top. When humans had arrived hundreds of years ago, they’d brought plants, and now vegetation crowded up the canyon walls in a riot of color. Here at the bottom the plants were tropical. As they advanced up the walls, they became hardier scrubs and evergreens.