“Well, good for you, Captain! I’m personally encouraging everyone to learn it. I believe in the not-too-distant future, we’ll all be speaking E’meset. It’s far more precise than any Earth language…besides Ismay.” She referred to that special form of communications shared by all the computers, bots, and SUBs.
“Ma’am, if you don’t mind, let’s just drop the ‘captain’. I’m a maintenance engineer now.”
Cassie folded her hands together and sat them on the desk. “Yes. I’ve been told you’re not proud of your past.”
Nash looked away. “There’s little to be proud of, ma’am.” He looked back, his brow knitted together. “May I ask how you know that?”
“Indra.” Cassie folded her arms on her chest. “It should not come as a shock to you that Indra is watching all the former IIEA members and mercenaries.”
“You don’t trust us?”
“Mister Rastaban, I mean no offense when I remind you that trust is earned, not given.”
“I appreciate that.”
Cassie relaxed, leaned forward on her elbows and smiling asked, “You’ve come to talk about the space at seven, three, one, eighteen. Correct?”
“Wow…yes I have, but it seems you already know, and must have an answer ready.”
“No. We are aware you’ve looked the place over several times and studied the plans in Indra’s memory. We just don’t know what your interest is in it.”
Nash cleared his throat, “I’d like permission to recover the space and convert it into a single-family dwelling. On my own time, of course.”
“Hmmm. Captain…I’m sorry, Mister Rastaban,” Cassie leaned back in her desk chair. “Let me point out a couple of things to you. The space is rather large for a single family, and the ceilings are over three meters high. You wish to convert the space into a family dwelling, yet, you sir, are single. I’m left to wonder…why?”
“Well, Mrs. O’Connell, I agree the space is quite large. I can easily divide it in half and make two domiciles of it. And in the second, I can install drop ceilings.”
“But not in the first?”
“No, ma’am. If I am to reside there I will require higher ceilings. And as for my status as a single man, I ― I hope to change that. But, right now, I have nothing to offer. A fine apartment would be a nice wedding gift, I think.” Nash smiled.
Cassie paused a moment with a blank expression on her face. “Mister Rastaban, when my husband and I married, we were both still assigned separate BOQ’s. What you have to offer a woman is your love. A woman in love does not care where it is you live as long as you are together.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, ma’am. But, over dinner one evening this lady told me about her family’s villa south of Roma. I assume she comes from a wealthy family. I can’t expect her to…I have to have something to offer her.”
“If your love is not sufficient then…perhaps you need to ask yourself for what reason the woman marries you — love or property. I will approve your request. I will see to it you get a copy of all the building codes—”
“I have them already, ma’am.”
“Good. And Mr. Rastaban, I do wish you the best of luck, and all the happiness in the world.”
Nash sat stunned a moment. “Happiness? Yes. I think it’s about time. Thank you, Madam Minister.”
“Madam Minister? Oh, God,” she said, smiling. “Please, just call me Cassie.”
Chapter 3
PLANNING FOR THE FUTURE
First Lieutenant Joseph Billen was the officer who had rescued Dave from torture and death at the hands of Wilmington after Dave had been captured. He had gotten Dave and Doctor Alfred Lester out of the hands of the IIEA’s mercenaries and back into the portion of the city controlled by the CDF.
Lieutenant Billen was at the front in the tunnels when so many CDF were killed before they fled to the reservoir. Here, Joe had been shot twice. One bullet grazed his right thigh. The second bullet removed his left ear. Though painful, the wounds did not slow him down. He got himself quickly patched, and he returned to the fray where he’d been wounded yet again, rather badly.
A caravan was formed to get the most severely wounded through the jungle and down into U’alline toy e’vahn, the cave of hope. Two E’meset carried Joe the entire distance.
Like everyone else, Joe was amazed when they reached the huge gallery in the bottom of the cave. And he was never more awestruck in his life when, after his wounds were treated with the glowing algae, they healed completely. To his utter amazement his ear had grown back, and though it was somewhat pinker than the rest of his skin, it was identical to the one he’d lost. When, at last, he and the others stood, he felt wonderful, alert, and more full of life and energy than he ever felt before. He felt re-born. It was a moment he’d remember all the rest of his life.
The battle at the east gate of the city came far too soon, and he saw the hopelessness of the situation immediately. He was fighting next to Le’ha and Zolna when a bullet from above struck Le’ha down and Zolna dropped to his knees to aid her. A merc swung a huge club at Zolna and Joe dove to stop him. He took the full force of the blow to his head. It crushed his skull and damaged his brain. He remembered killing his assailant before hitting the ground. Joe watched as a frantic Zolna tried to help both him and Le’ha. Joe’s world grew small and the light dimmed all around him — then, it just faded away.
He learned later that, after the battle Zolna and Le’ha, who had only received a minor wound, sought him out and delivered him into the hands of the E’meset, and again, he and all the severely wounded were carried back into the bowels of the cave.
Here, because of the seriousness of his wound, Joe spent several weeks being treated by the E’meset. There was one E’meset in particular ― a young-looking woman—one could never determine the age of an E’meset by their appearance—who caught his attention. This woman was unusual in that she was not as tall as her fellow tribesmen. Her hair was considerably darker than the ubiquitous silver hair of the E’meset. And the various colors of her skin were far more diffused and muted as compared to the sharp, distinct colors of the others. It was, however, her eyes that caught his attention. The eyes of all E’meset are large, almond shaped, and a bright green with dark vertical pupils like the eyes of a cat. This woman’s eyes were also large and almond-shaped. Her pupils, however, were round, and her eyes were a striking azure blue.
It was her face that Joe’s eyes first beheld as he awakened from near brain death. At first, he could not comprehend what it was he was looking at. Then, she turned and gazed into his eyes. His mouth fell open as her pupils dilated and seemed to beckon to him. He felt suddenly exposed and vulnerable, as if her gaze revealed all that he was to her, all he had done and failed to do in his life. A feeling of shame washed over him. Then, she smiled—and with that simple act, all his worries and fears evaporated. He tried to smile back, but was not sure he could smile.
She placed her long soft fingers across his forehead then she looked up and called out, “Eya’Etee, Ula lavat, ah hair’at ta!”
An older woman joined the younger. This woman, with her white hair and green eyes, was decidedly E’meset. “How do you feel, Tuva?” she asked in English.
Joe opened his mouth but could not speak. He tried harder, but nothing happened. He reached for his throat but a gentle hand stopped him. The blue-eyed woman slowly put his hand back to his side and softly said, “Shhut.” And she pressed her little finger to her full lips then said, “Ah mennie uhie.”
The older woman translated. “She says this will pass. She knows, for she is a gifted Poh’palm meas.”
The younger woman then lifted his head and indicated he should hold his breath. She then removed his respirator and put half of a large shell to his lips filled with a glowing liquid. As he swallowed, the dry, parched feeling in his throat vanished. His body relaxed, and what pain he had, faded. The woman replaced his mask.
“Thank you,” he said weakly looking into thos
e penetrating blue eyes.
The elder woman responded saying, “My daughter speaks very little Tuva. But she understood you.”
“Mea kan shon anen mensa?” the blue-eyed woman asked.
“She asks your name,” the elder woman translated.
“I’m First Lieutenant Joe Billen. What’s hers…and yours, too?”
“Lootante Illey Joe Billen,” the elder woman said to her daughter, then she turned to face Joe. “I am called Yalga Poh’may’ya. She is called Nista Sel’emat. We know you Tuva like to make short all words, so call me Yalga, and my daughter, Nista.”
Joe reached up and slowly placed his hand on the part of his head he remembered as having been crushed. It was undamaged, though the hair in that spot was just stubble. He looked up at the two women and softly said, “Thank you. Thank you both, very much. I owe you my life.”
“Your thanks must go to Nista. She did not leave your side.”
“She didn’t?”
“No. Nista thinks you sea’ava.” Yalga’s expression was one of disapproval. And when she spoke the E’meset word, Nista slapped her on the upper arm and made that sound again, “Shhut!”
“What does that mean? Sea’ava?” Joe asked.
“Eya’Etee, Elle Pooho!” Nista quickly exclaimed.
“Lopa!” Yalga shot sternly back at her then turned back to Joe.
“You must rest Lootante Joe. Sleep in the arms of Eya’Etee Ki Kee and have faith in Lu’aya…sleep.”
Joe seemed unable to control his consciousness and it slipped from his grasp.
○O○
Tanny called Nash on her COMde, as was her habit, in the last hour of her work day.
“Hello Nash.”
“Hello E’lika,” it took Nash a long time, and he hesitated to start, but he had taken to calling Tanny by the E’meset word for flower.
“I was thinking…dining facility seven tonight?” she suggested. “All of the D-facs serve the same thing. Seven’s meatloaf is somehow better, don’t you think?” Tanny asked.
“Oh, ah…I was going to call you, E’lika. I have work to complete tonight that might occupy me for some hours. I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s fine. Duty calls, I understand.”
She did understand, but she didn’t like it. He’d missed dinners before and she didn’t like it then, either. She was well aware that this feeling was unreasonable.
After all, she told herself, we’re basically in a survival situation on a hostile sea in a leaky boat. I just need to be more flexible. Besides, he’s under no obligation to break bread with me every night. We’re just friends, for God’s sake. Perhaps he just needs a break, some time away.
These thoughts only grew darker as Nash missed more and more lunches and dinners.
One evening, she inquired after Nash to one of his colleagues. “Oh, he went out to the Fish. He does that now and then.”
The Fish? And he didn’t mention it to me? He’s tiring of me. What if he didn’t go to the Fish? What if he’s found someone else?
On what was becoming a rare night together, Nash called and asked her to dress up.
“Dress up?” Tanny was surprised at this request. “Why?”
“Because,” Nash paused for just a moment. “Tonight, I’m taking you on a real date.”
“A date?”
“Yes, E’lika. Tonight, we are not friends having a meal together.” Again, he paused. “Tonight, I want to take beautiful woman out to dinner. That is, if you want to go on a date with me.”
Tanny did not hesitate. “What time should I be ready?”
At 18:45, Cindy was helping Tanny put the finishing touches on her appearance.
“I can’t believe you’re wearing your hair up like that!” Cindy said.
“He likes it up; he told me so.”
“Honey, he was being polite. Your hair all pulled up tight to your head like that says to him, hands off!”
“Cindy, he’s a gentleman.”
“Ah-huh, how long has he been here?”
“I don’t know, long enough to learn E’meset.”
Cindy gave her a knowing look.
“Oh, please!” Tanny snapped.
“And I know for a fact,” Cindy said, “you’ve been without … companionship for over seven years if you count the flight out here. Honey, it’s time to let your hair down, literally and figuratively!”
“Cindy, for the time being, let me have my hair up. Will you?”
At 19:00, the computer announced, “Mr. Nash Rastaban is at the door. He is unaccompanied.”
“Am I ready?” Tanny asked.
“Honey, no woman on this black and blue ball has ever been more ready for a first date. I’ll get the door. You wait here.”
Tanny was, indeed, quite nervous. She’d not felt like this since her freshman year at university.
She listened as, out in the living room, Cindy got the door.
“Well, hello Nash. My, but you do clean up nicely.”
“Thank you, Miss Mira. Is E’lika…ah, Tanny, ready?”
“Nash, everyone knows you call her your flower. And if you call me Miss Mira again, I’m going to hit you upside your close-shaven, cologne-scented face. E’lika will be ready in a minute. Please, sit down. Can I take those for you?” She indicated the flowers Nash was carrying.
“No, but thank you.”
Cindy came trotting back into the bedroom.
“Oh, my God, honey, he’s all shined up and polished. He’s a star flare! Wait till you see him! Oh…he brought flowers!”
“Shhh! He’ll hear you!” Tanny warned. “Bye, see you—”
“Wait. You can’t just go out there!”
“Why not?” Tanny asked wide-eyed.
“Oh, honey, you have to make him wait.”
“He has reservations. I have to go.”
“Reservations? You don’t mean at the reopening of Rick’s Place?”
Tanny smiled. “Yes.”
“How did he ever—”
“I don’t know and don’t care. Get out of my way.”
“Tanny,” the foolishness was gone from Cindy’s voice, “enjoy yourself, honey.”
When Tanny came around the corner, Nash was seated. His eyes fell on her in her little black dress, and he was stunned. He slowly got to his feet. The expression on his face said it all.
He walked toward her with the small bouquet of blue, purple, and dark red flowers, shyly looking down on them. “Your beauty makes these flowers ashamed to be in the same room with you.”
Tanny accepted them. “They’re lovely. Thank you, Nash.”
“You think so? Then you shall have them always.”
He took her arm, and as they departed, Tanny looked over her shoulder to see Cindy peeking out the bedroom door grinning from ear to ear and giving her a thumbs-up.
A short tram ride of thirty minutes had them standing outside Rick’s Place.
Tanny looked around and noted that everybody who was anybody was here. The entire city council, including Mr. and Mrs. O’Connell, Talme Zolna, who carried a small video camera which provided a direct feed to his family outside; Le’ha and her children, Poy eka Hondar, and Kownuss Suitusand who, being E’meset, could not breathe inside the city.
There was Doctor Alfred Lester, the Cybernetics specialist. And Doctor Haythornwaite who first discovered the unusual properties in E’meset blood was caused by their consumption of the planet’s unfiltered water.
Doctor Bristol, the xenoanthropologist, was in attendance, and on her arm was Major Scott, former aide to the late Brigadier General Otto Steinherz. The major was now the XO of the CDF. The commander of the CDF, Colonel Lindsay, and his lovely wife were here, they were wed only two weeks before.
Also present were a group of scientists who were known only by reputation to those who were below ground during the battle. Among them Doctors Bess and Jerry Goldman ― all were survivors from the original group of colonists to arrive on the planet more than half a c
entury ago. They now resided inside, and studied, the “fish” — that enormous alien spacecraft which crashed-landed during the first Ukse war. That war had raged many decades before the arrival of the people from Earth. The leader of these people, Sir Reginald Gawain, led their party. Sir Gawain was held in great esteem by all.
○O○
Nash was stopped in his tracks as he spied Major Dave Mitchel, and his wife, Lieutenant Colonel Kathy Mitchel, standing near the front of the room. They were smiling, greeting everyone, and surrounded by their close friends.
“What’s the matter, Nash?” Tanny had noticed the change in his mood.
“Nothing, Tanny. I think I left the light on in my kitchen, is all.”
Dinner was superb. The live music was incredible, and the floor show astounding!
After the show, the lights came up and after dinner drinks were served. People rose and started to mingle as the band played quietly from the stage.
As Tanny and Nash made their way toward the dance floor, they were stopped by Sir Gawain.
“Hello, Nash. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you. Sir Reginald Gawain, let me introduce Doctor Eltanie Austrini.”
“I am thoroughly charmed, my dear,” he said, taking and kissing the back of her hand. “Captain, you are indeed a fortunate man.”
“Yes, I am, sir. But I’ve dropped the rank; it’s just Nash Rastaban now,” Nash spoke just above a whisper.
“Whatever for? You earned that rank, did you not, through honorable service with the IIEA?”
“I’m afraid my service, since I’ve been here, was somewhat less than honorable.”
“Nonsense.” Sir Reginald’s consternation was genuine. “Tell me, what laws did you knowingly break? What act of mayhem was the product of your mind? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe at any time during Wilmington’s tenure here, were you aware of his villainous machinations.”
“No, sir, but I never questioned—”
“Think back, my boy,” Sir Gawain interrupted, “during that time, exactly what questions would you have asked? Wilmington’s cover story was complete.”
The Blue of Antyllus Page 4