by S. H. Jucha
The lead surveyor scanned his teammates, and they nodded eagerly. “We’ll stay rather than return home,” he said. “Let us know when Barbess wants relief.”
“When you go below, recruit four more to help us,” Nogess called quietly at the surveyors’ retreating backs, and a hand was held up in agreement.
Three cycles later, Jess, Alain, and company returned via the Norsitchian gate.
The platform deck was crowded and not a little but a lot. It seemed every available space was taken.
Two Loopah stood front and center. Like many, they proudly sported ear comms.
The biologicals on the envoy team waited until their ear comms beeped, signaling the exchange of language programs. Juliette and Esteban borrowed translation apps from Jess and Alain.
Jess sent. He’d told Alain that he was accompanying him to observe and offer advice only when requested.
“Greetings,” Alain said to the assembled Loopah. “I’m Envoy Alain de Long.”
“Greetings, Creator,” Nogess said respectfully and bowed his head.
Then the entire audience bowed their heads.
“These wonderful domes aren’t ours,” Alain said, without missing a beat. “They were discovered by many races much like you did.”
“Then who are you?” Barbess inquired.
“We represent races who’ve achieved a significant level of technology, and we’d like to share what we know with your race,” Alain said. “You might be interested to know that there are hundreds of races in this area of space. Their citizens routinely travel between worlds using the gates, and one of the races sails ships between the stars.”
Alain’s final sentence arrested the audience’s attention.
“You must speak to our High Council,” the senior surveyor said. “The members have been notified of your expected appearance and will arrive in two more cycles. Will you wait?”
“We’ll return late on the second of your cycles,” Alain said. Then he raised a hand toward the console.
Barbess understood the gesture, and she pushed her way through the crowd to reach the console. Proudly, she activated the gate’s panel and returned the strangers to their distant world.
“Creators,” Jess said to his teammates after they appeared in the Norsitchian dome. “I’ve been called many things in my life, but that was a new one.”
“At least, it was complimentary,” Alain replied.
“Envoy de Long, will you be in need of our services before we return to the Loopah?” the Norsitchian economist inquired.
“I don’t believe so,” Alain replied. After the Norsitchians departed, Alain regarded Jess. “How about you, Commander. Will you be returning to visit with the Loopah High Council?”
“Absolutely,” Jess replied. “This is the part that I’ve been waiting to observe. Our prior steps were merely the preliminaries. This is when we find out if a developing race has the desire to be quickly uplifted by a technological infusion.”
“What are your concerns, Commander?” Esteban asked.
“It’s not about the specific technology,” Jess replied. “I’m concerned about the Loopah High Council embracing too much of it.”
“Your concerns are valid,” Juliette said. “The Pims needed time and attention from us and others to help them adopt the technology and integrate the advances into their society without disruption.”
“Do we have the number of advisors that might be required for that?” Alain asked.
“I’m not sure,” Jess replied. “That’s why I think we need to take it slowly. In every case, I think we’ll need a Trident and travelers based in the system, and we’ll need a range of individuals on the ground ... SADEs, humans, and consortium advisors.”
“To monitor and support the uptake,” Alain summarized.
“Precisely,” Jess replied.
“Then we must use this first instance as a guidepost,” Alain said, and he directed his gaze at the SADEs.
Two cycles later, Jess, Alain, and the team stood again on the Norsitchian gate. The flash of blue light sent them through space to appear in the Loopah dome.
This time, there were far fewer individuals present. Nogess and Barbess had waited patiently by the receiving platform, and they were the first to greet the arriving team.
“We would know your names, titles, and organizations to present you to the High Council,” Nogess said.
“They might be confusing to you,” Alain replied carefully.
“We suspect it will be,” Barbess added, “but the courtesies should be observed.” Like Nogess, she couldn’t help glancing toward Jess.
“I would agree,” Alain replied. “I’m Envoy Alain de Long of Outpost One: Resistance. I lead this team.” Then he introduced Major Fleetfoot, the SADEs, and the Norsitchian advisors. Holding out a hand toward Jess, he said, “This is Outpost Commander Jess Cinders. He’s here to observe.”
“Commander, have you visited us before? Perhaps the first time?” Barbess asked.
“My ancestor was here,” Jess replied. “A launcher was requested, which was generously donated.”
“Affirmative,” Barbess and Nogess said in triumph.
“Your image is familiar to us. Your ancestor decorates many of our displays,” Barbess added. “Mistakenly, we’ve always considered those first visitors as the domes’ creators.”
“Please, come this way,” Nogess invited. He led the team down the ramp to one of the larger dorm rooms.
Inside, five Loopah sat at a table. Each of them exhibited gray fur, which was in contrast to the rich brown of Barbess and the dark brown of Nogess.
Nogess read from his compact slate, on which he’d noted the names and information about the guests. In rich gravitas, he introduced the arriving team. In turn, he presented the members of the High Council to the guests.
“We welcome you,” Homgoss, the primary councilor, said. “Please, be seated. We’ve much to discuss.”
The councilor’s words were an understatement. After the first two cycles of exchange, Jess attended only the start of the third cycle. Then he made his excuses.
The High Council presented Jess with a print, a rare commodity in the time of electronic media. The print had been carefully preserved within an enclosed frame and filled with a noble gas.
Jess stared at a near likeness of himself, wearing a pair of dress coveralls and sporting captain’s insignias.
“We’re grateful for your ancestor’s visit to our dome,” Homgoss said. “You can tell by this recreation of Captain Jessie Cinders that we thought he’d returned. You and your ancestor could be siblings. The High Council and our race deeply appreciate that you didn’t forget us when you were able to help.”
Jess was moved by the gesture. Sam and he said their goodbyes to the others and made for the platform deck.
“May I have the honor?” Nogess whispered to Barbess, who was on duty at the console.
Barbess flashed her heavy canines and stepped away from gate two’s panel.
Jess and Sam ascended the platform. The simian pair raised their hands in farewell, and Jess delivered a spacer’s two-finger salute to them. Then Nogess sent the humans on a journey to Norsitchia.
Three cycles after Jess and Sam had returned to the outpost, Alain returned.
“Conversations over already?” Lucia asked Alain, while she made thé for the three of them.
“Hardly,” Alain replied. “It didn’t take long for me to become obsolete.”
“Going that well, is it?” Jess asked.
“Sometimes, I have to wonder about the absurdity of racial bias,” Alain replied, sipping on his mug. “The simians have those heavy muzzles, dangerous-looking canines, protruding brows, long arms, short legs, and fur everywhere. Yet, they’re the gentlest of races.”
> “While an element of the human race, like the Confederation, prides itself on genetic experimentation,” Lucia said, waving her hand down her body.
“Wait!” Jess interrupted. “I like your genetics.”
“And for that you’re appreciated,” Lucia said, patting Jess’s cheek before she sat down with her thé. “As I was saying, humans celebrate certain stereotypes. It allows them to be unspeakably cruel to others who don’t fit their models.”
“Appearances aside, Alain, how are communications advancing?” Jess inquired.
“Apologies, Jess,” Alain replied, recognizing that he’d diverted from his report. “I’ve found this first encounter with the advisors, SADEs, and a developing race to be eye-opening. When I left, there were an additional nine advisors. The dorm room became too small. I would say that we were fortunate that the Trident arrived, but you know the challenge.”
“Had the Loopah ever walked on their moon?” Lucia asked.
“Never. They don’t even keep environment suits at the dome,” Alain replied.
“Courageous or foolish,” Jess added, shuddering at the thought of sudden decompression and caught without a suit.
“Alain, what’s your projection for the future of this enterprise?” Lucia asked.
“I think Jess had it right. We’re going to have to be generous with resources,” Alain replied. “I see the advisors and the SADEs being tied up for annuals, while they assist the Loopah with adopting the technology that the alliance and we have to offer.”
“And Mickey’s teams,” Jess noted.
“Yes,” Alain said and nodded. “We’ll need a bay and a connecting tunnel to the dome like at Triton.”
“Crocians,” Jess and Lucia said simultaneously and chuckled.
“Younger Crocian engineers and techs can replicate the Triton process with one SADE in charge,” Jess mused. “I wonder. Could we hire more SADEs from the Confederation?”
“Done,” Lucia said.
“Again?” Jess said plaintively.
“Again what?” Alain queried, amused by the couple’s interplay.
“She does this,” Jess complained good-naturedly. “I wonder about something, and she actuates it without another word.”
“If it’s a good idea, why not?” Lucia asked innocently.
“You wondered about more SADEs,” Alain said, replaying his implant recording. “Did you send a message to the Confederation Council?”
“What good would that do?” Lucia retorted. “I sent a short message to Julien. I said, ‘We need many more SADEs in alliance space.’”
Alain chuckled. “It was a good idea, Jess,” he said, holding out a hand toward Lucia, as if to say she did well.
11: Tsargit Division
That Krokticka, Alain de Long’s senior staffer, met him as he exited the Hyronzy Station shuttle arriving from the dome, told him he was about to receive a critical update.
By arriving late in the Tsargit’s cycle, Alain had hoped to have a leisurely meal and a quiet evening. He hadn’t counted on Krokticka’s persistence. He considered that she must have been checking shuttle arrivals ever since he’d announced his intention to return.
“Apologies, Envoy, for intercepting you like this,” Krokticka said perfunctorily, which told Alain that she felt her duties overweighed his comforts.
“What do you have for me, Krokticka?” Alain asked. He slowed his pace so that the Jatouche wouldn’t have to hurry to keep up with him.
“In your absence, there have been significant shifts in the Tsargit’s organization and methods,” Krokticka replied. “You’re aware that the membership chose to grant their body the option of determining which subjects the committees would study, and that the committees must report every finding to the council.”
“I recall,” Alain said.
“After the representatives instituted those changes, the consortium pushed for greater changes,” Krokticka explained. “I thought their requests were doomed, but my patriarch said I should wait and see. He was right. The centrist group of members sided with the consortium, voting through many of the proposals over the elder races’ objections.”
“What are some of the more critical changes?” Alain asked, as Krokticka and he chose to walk farther along the corridor to reach a lift that might not be occupied.
“The council will no longer select its replacements from committee members,” Krokticka said hurriedly. Her expressive eyes were wide, as she related the tremendous revelation that must have shook the ancient organization.
Alain’s reaction was to chuckle. “It’s about time,” he commented.
“There’s more,” Krokticka continued. “Term limits were imposed on the councilors. The membership will vote on the councilors who can stand for reelection.”
“How long?” Alain inquired.
“Ten annuals,” Krokticka replied, “and the members have chosen to start the review this annual. Forty-two members, most of whom have never even served on a committee, have placed their names on the slate to be selected as councilors. This number doesn’t account for the present councilors. Every individual on the council has chosen to stand for election.”
“What posture is your patriarch adopting?” Alain asked, as Krokticka and he boarded a lift. He quickly closed the doors to allow them to ride undisturbed.
“You mean other than having chosen to put his name on the council slate?” Krokticka replied.
“Oh,” Alain said softly. A thought occurred to him about what might be transpiring, and he inquired, “How many of the consortium’s members are on the slate?”
“Nine,” Krokticka replied. “Every member who represents the consortium’s prime races.”
“So the consortium representatives, with the help of the centrists, are executing a takeover of the Tsargit. Nothing subtle about it. It’s a coup,” Alain surmised.
“The term is unfamiliar,” Krokticka responded, as she searched for an equivalent.
“A coup is an overthrow of a government or organization’s leadership,” Alain explained.
“Nothing so drastic,” Krokticka said, “but I fear that if the members go too far, the enormous experience of the senior committee and council members will be minimized.”
“What’s the reason that you met me at the shuttle?” Alain asked, as they stepped out of the lift into the corridor.
“I’d hoped that you would offer advice to the membership,” Krokticka said.
Alain kept his thoughts until they entered his suite. It was deserted, except for a young staffer, who’d waited to order food and drink for him and unpack his duffel. He gave the young female his order and tossed his duffel into his sleeping quarters.
When the staffer left, Alain dropped into a chair that an outpost Trident had delivered for him. The nanites cradled his weary body from the numerous gate journeys. One of these days, the Hyronzy might decide to couple their final gate opening to the Triton dome, he thought hopefully.
“How and when do you expect me to offer this advice?” Alain asked Krokticka.
“Council candidates have an allotted time to speak to the membership tomorrow,” Krokticka explained. “I thought you might request a slot from Jarmonin.”
“To push for moderation in their candidate choices,” Alain surmised.
“Precisely, as you’re wont to say,” Krokticka replied.
When Alain continued to muse over the idea, Krokticka pressed her point. “The outpost has enormous prestige. In your absence, consortium members speak their praise of the new gate pairs. Credit is given to the outpost’s engineering teams.”
Something in Krokticka’s tone caused Alain to replay her words. “You speak as if the discovery of the Messinant gate implementation techniques wasn’t supposed to produce results for the consortium,” he said.
When Krokticka briefly ducked her head, Alain sat erect. “Are you telling me that after we proved we could install quantum-coupled gates on dead systems, races still thought we wouldn’t be succ
essful with their pair requests?”
“There were concerns, Envoy, but they thought the rewards were worth the risks,” Krokticka said carefully.
“That information is never to be shared with outpost individuals,” Alain said sternly. “Also, you inform anyone who voiced that opinion that they’re to keep quiet too.”
“It will be done, Envoy,” Krokticka replied respectfully.
Alain leaned into his chair to rest his back. He wasn’t used to carrying a heavily loaded duffel for the length of his journey ascending and descending one platform after another. His medical nanites would need a few hours to make muscle repairs.
The young staffer returned with his meal, interrupting Alain’s moment of relaxation.
Krokticka rose to help set out tray, utensils, and drink on a table.
Reluctantly, Alain left his comfortable chair.
Krokticka waited until the staffer was dismissed, and Alain had an opportunity to enjoy some of his late evening meal before she returned to the subject that impelled her. “Envoy, shall I request a time slot from Jarmonin?” she asked.
Alan eyed Krokticka across the table. He had to give her credit. As a senior staffer, she was doing her job well. Although, at the moment, he wasn’t appreciating her efforts.
“Envoy, I think the Tsargit is at a tipping point,” Krokticka said earnestly. “First, there was the presence of the Omnians, who assisted the fight. Then the outpost was formed. That precipitated the rise of the consortium. All these things have upset the Tsargit’s regular order.”
“Do you consider the events you mentioned to be negative things?” Alain queried.
“Not at all, but their force risks disrupting the Tsargit instead of reordering it,” Krokticka replied.
Alain finished his meal, and while Krokticka promptly removed the tray, he returned to his nanites chair. Holding up a finger to his senior staffer, Alain connected with the outpost. He winced, when he noticed outpost time was a little after four hours.