Batamon and Esten waited patiently, both having a knowledge of this key moment in history, ‘Bata’ because he was on one of the Scout Craft that had formed a largely symbolic protective ring around the planet, waiting for the moment when the Pakak would close in and destroy them all, and Esten because she had listened intently during that school lesson, some fifty years earlier, as the key players in that drama – from her perspective – were the pilots, and becoming a pilot had been her constant ambition from her earliest childhood recollections. Both of them knew there had to be a very good reason for this history review.
“The most amazing thing happened. The Pakak – as we now know they are called, thanks to Paranak – held themselves back. Soon we had all of our ships in orbit – except for Ship One and three other really old transports which weren’t in operating condition at the time. We had to make a show of strength, though some of them didn’t even have any weapons at all and some only quantum lasers – useless, as you no doubt appreciate, against Shells. By putting up everything that could fly, we had about even numbers of ships as the Vershonnan, but that was not very reassuring at all, based on our memories of the debacle we still refer to simply as The War. At the time we had no idea that we could fight these Pakak and actually have any chance of destroying one or two of them – we thought that each of our ships would be destroyed, as almost every Arshonnan vessel had been in The War. Stuona’s message, probably picked up by many on Arshonna – a tantalising revelation to those about to die as the planet exploded, an ironic gift of priceless, pointless knowledge for those last living residents – would have to wait many, many cool to be discovered by Richard and Karina during their investigation of the last significant fragment of our garden home just a short time ago.
“A-and then demonstrated as true by them right after their arrival in our system.” Again, Esten’s comment was accurate, and revealed her thoughts clearly.
“Indeed. Such a key moment. I speculate that, when the Narlavs discovered Fepnine, they were perhaps a little shell-shocked from their stupendous victory in The War and from the devastating destruction that they had caused – they had failed to conquer and capture Arshonna, losing the significant agricultural and living space they could have made their own, and some of them must surely have felt that was a mistake. Paranak indicated that was how he felt, when he was a virtual witness to the death throes of our beloved planet and Stuona’s heroic final attack. Or perhaps they were impressed by the bravery of our little band of ‘defenders’, trying to protect the last hold-out of humanity – a last-ditch, hopeless stand…?” She shook her head. “Maybe someday we will understand them well enough to know the real motivation. Perhaps then we will be able to stop this senseless killing. But I must get to my point: after that stand-off, the numbers of Pakak reduced a little, though there was always ‘a presence’ watching for any vessel that might emerge from the cocooning atmosphere of the last Arshonnan refuge.
“We built new, much more powerful ships soon after I became PC. We didn’t have much of the Matrix materials and this planet was known to have almost none, which was one of the reasons that it had been designated as a mere Frontier Post. Some mining with Hoalken had already been attempted but we had been able to find very little by that time, so we converted the hulks of our remaining Scout Craft and Patrol Craft to add to what we had found. Finally we had seventeen ships – much better ships than before – and we felt more confident in our ability to protect our home.”
“I-I never understood why the Vershonnan just watched us.” Esten took the pause – or perhaps it was just Larima catching her breath – as an opportunity for expressing herself. Somehow the experience which she had thought would be totally intimidating – an official audience with the person in charge of the entire planet – seemed strangely less so. It was the ‘presence’ of Batamon, alongside her and ‘in the back of her mind’ that had made the difference, of course.
“No one did.” Larima nodded, her eyes coming back into focus – memories from so long ago having taken her back to those early days again. “But as the population of Fepnine grew and grew, many tried to put the thought of these arrow-shaped vessels as far out of their minds as they had become from their view and the new ‘Fepniners’, of course, only focused on what was emphasised to them. Many in the succeeding generations studied, investigated and explored other things, things that did not connect their new comfortable ‘reality’ with the – to them – depressing truth that the Vershonnan could probably destroy us at any moment. I can’t object to this: we are a richer, more complex, multifaceted society because of this, we have developed such amazing artists – painters, sculptors, singers, musicians and story-tellers. And our planet, originally such a dry, hot and harsh place, was transformed over the years into what is now a gentle, soothing world, so tranquil for such a long time… one so many take for granted, even in our time of increased peril. As you know – I expect you have discussed this many times – the arrival of Richard, Kirrina and Paranak… or more importantly, the immediate attack they carried out, destroying one of the Pakak, and then looking like they might be wiped out themselves, made our own vessels take action. Five ships targeted the remaining half of the pair that our out-of-system friends had broken up, vaporising it, too. Esten, your ship was detailed to escort the new arrivals, so you missed the opportunity to be part of the four ship force which then destroyed yet another Pakak. The rest fled. We could only speculate how this sudden change, after a period of stalemate for so many cool, would have affected the crews and leaders of those ships that survived. But then we learned, twenty eight wilgile later, we learned.
“The news of the destruction of our entire fleet of Patrol Cruisers woke up some of the dreamers; it increased the numbers of Fepniners that were willing to be involved in defensive research or the search for new materials and to help to construct the new ships that we made, so quickly, but did not otherwise change the … attitude … of the vast majority of the population. But what you may not know, is that some of our best theoretical minds at Hetwan Schept had anticipated the retaliatory Narlav attack and prior to it had committed to applying their knowledge to a twin effort: to add to our defensive capabilities with new equipment, improved Drives and weapons, and secondly, to do something unheard of, to wake up the ‘sleeping masses’. Two young, brilliant students were the push behind this! They went to their tutors and explained their plan. As this is Hetwan Schept we are talking about, the soundness of their plan was immediately recognised and they were solidly backed by some very key managers of resources and many of the more experienced scientists and technologists. And in three gile, I will take you and show you what they have created.”
The interview continued, but the Planetary Controller moved quite abruptly away from this intriguing subject and instead sought the mingled perspectives of the old Arshonnan and the young Fepniner about their trip, the victory they had won over seemingly impossible odds and the destruction they had let behind, leaving them with a tantalising taste of foreknowledge.
Soon they were being ushered out of her presence and left to discuss this between them on their journey out of the Planetary Council complex.
Larima was alone again. She was able to review her findings in private, personal ponderings, an option she treasured, for it meant that time was not totally against them. She finalised her conclusions and retired for a fatigue enhanced sleep period, planning to ‘Restore’ herself in the morning, prior to the emergency Council meeting she had scheduled for the next day.
Chapter Four
Never delay quyz destruction – Quetibb axiom
“Quig?” The velvet-smooth voice interrogated, gently, watching the pale, bare skin of the face before her.
“Blue.” Whispered… almost toneless, by the owner of that pale, furless face.
“Quiv?”
“Brown.” Still quiet, but no hesitation from the decidedly non-Quetibb.
“Quistl?”
“Red.”
“Quiy?”
“Purple.”
“Quud! Quaf! Quaf[11]…” The beautiful female Quetibb stroked the side of her long snout with her left forepaw, indicating her admiration for the accomplishments of her very unique charge, before speaking the final word of this memory test: “Quiml?”
“Green.”
“Quudat![12]” The slender, beautifully furred creature congratulated her pupil, though the responses had been so quiet as to test the limits of even her superb ears to detect. The being she had learned to categorise as a human shifted position slightly, propping itself up more vertically against the cushioned, sloped surface in the recovery area, and its face widened – a physical expression of some degree of happiness, the Quetibb now knew as she opened her mouth somewhat – her own people’s way of expressing the same emotion, for her teeth were not the fearsome kind that carnivores would display to intimidate.
Gich’s smile slipped as breathing became briefly more difficult, and the ever-present sensation of teetering on the edge of unconsciousness increased rapidly… and then, fortunately, faded away – at least to some degree.
Quetod found she had paused in her language review, a pause caused by her concern about the faintness evident in the human, which she thought would result in another collapse. She looked at the pitiful creature with some degree of sympathy, though the strange, wrinkled and almost hairless appearance of the one-time Narlav slave technician was still disturbing to her fur-focused feelings – her natural preference was for the silky sleekness of her own kind, of course.
As the human was equipped with no natural outer covering, it had become obvious that some artificial substitute would be needed. Finding a suitable fabric to clothe the fragile being had been a challenge – the Quetibb rarely used cloth, and made only a few kinds. The first type, used for sunshades, hammocks and water-bags, was far too heavy to be shaped into any kind of garment; the second, used for wrapping vegetables for storage, creating dust barriers over working sites in the harsh environment of the never-eclipsed other hemisphere and filtering mud-loaded water, was thinner, but still too harsh for the delicate skin and half-healed burns on the sole survivor. The third option was the result of a comparatively recent invention for a rare occurrence; it was developed for protecting premature Quil[13], something that the mothers of the twin worlds had recently taken to attempting. A generation or two earlier and these too-early arrivals would simply – pragmatically, or mercifully, from their viewpoint – have been immersed in water and then buried with a minimum of sentiment.
It had taken most of the existing stock of this third option to make two sets of knee-length smocks. The three young Quetibb responsible for production had gone back to work immediately, and had offered to create dyed versions of the fabric, with colours like the various hues of fur common amongst their kind. Quetod opened her mouth at this but did not snicker. The idea of the human being dressed to look even vaguely like ‘The Heirs’ was amusing to her – but she had not yet had the opportunity to see the finished product, much less find out the human’s reaction to it. The Narlavs proved their total lack of honour by their treatment of the human slaves they kept. Now I know – from both survivors – enough to judge who to trust. The stories of slavery expressed with such understated venom by Gich were confirmed by the initial babblings of the feverish Narlav – providentially recorded, so that, once we had learned their language from Gich, we could decipher these slurred, sluggish words. Fortunately the Narlav will never walk again, so he will be easy to control. She knew, from the tales told by Gich, and, more convincingly, some brief fights in the wreckage of the Warrnam, how formidable these creatures would be, if one of them were anything less than significantly injured.
Bringing her thoughts back to the creature resting after the ‘ordeal’ of the language test, Quetod watched the rapid rise and fall of the chest and the partly open mouth, an indicator that lung capacity was still barely sufficient. She could not fully comprehend the perilously thin thread from which the ex-Narlavs’ slave’s life was hanging, having never seen a healthy human and hence having no awareness of the striking contrast between Gich and a middling Earthling amateur athlete, or even the ‘fair’, half-starved condition of a comparatively fortunate Narlav slave – for example: Latt Jusstinalss, during his sojourn on Mars.
The Quetibb attitudes had changed a little in the past couple of generations, but despite this they still had very basic medical facilities, due partly to their centuries-old focus on action in the literally life-and-death struggle against the Quyz[14], their many, many Quil – born to join the battle, expecting and accepting that few would survive, and partly to their similarly historical lack of valuing of caution, preferring boldness, courage and almost inevitably, self-sacrifice. Other than the racially uncharacteristic efforts of the premature Quil preservation specialists – with little equipment, and most of their success due to the constant care they gave – life was allowed to proceed or end, without intervention.
The prototype medical device invented by Quimod had been intended for use with the ‘preemies’ (there were none at present on Quelood), and had required enlarging for the alien. It had already been ‘occupied’ for a couple of days before the human was discovered in the Warrnam wreckage, and in any case, the Narlav had been more obviously damaged: feet essentially burned away, right arm similarly burned, though it still existed in its double-joint complexity, and heat exposure to the broad face such that the eyesight was possibly, or probably, lost forever.
Of course they knew nothing about either Narlav or human anatomy or physiology, so, once the decision had been made to continue treating the blocky alien in the device, all they had been able to do for the lone human survivor was to provide a bed, dressings for the external burns, and their best food, processed initially to a fine slurry to allow it to be easily swallowed. Recently the mostly hairless creature had been able to chew some quip[15] that had been cooked but not ground up – this was, to Quetod and the rest of the anxious carers assigned by the Quetibb leadership, a very good sign.
Quetod decided she was satisfied, after this unintended mental review, with the progress this tiny creature had made over the past few quidolques[16] – the learning of Quetibb words of lesser consequence, such as colours, made their communications even easier, though the importance – for key Quetibb – of comprehending the Narlav language had been of a far greater priority, as it meant that she and Quedon and the other leaders of Quelood could be more certain that the sole surviving Narlav, who had admitted that his name was Fludrad, was speaking the truth when he explained about the other dimensions which their ominous quiwl – black – ship had travelled through, to reach their twin worlds and start the ill-fated attempt to subjugate them.
“You have done well.” Quetod continued in the language of the Narlavs – and their slaves. “I am well-pleased. Now you must tell me – you have had time to think since you observed the Narlav, Fludrad, yesterday – is he speaking the truth when he says the gravity field will be difficult to set up?”
“This time, he is! Although he has no real, personal knowledge of this, as this ship of theirs was built many generations ago, and in any case, we ‘Shaatak’ always did all the repairs.” There followed a pause as breathing temporarily became the first priority again. “He will never speak of this; he will tell you of his own excellence – it is a Narlav way. But I think he will continue to look for ways to lead you to your death. I’m not sure how he has resolved the concept of a life as an invalid, as Narlavs never surrender in battle, they just keep fighting until they have killed all that oppose them or are killed themselves. That may make him want to destroy the ship and everyone in it, including himself, if necessary. He probably is savouring, anticipating that moment, I can’t imagine he wants to live without the use of his legs – the only reason he has to remain alive now is your destruction.” The diminutive human slipped back into the one subject that was always being discussed by the solitary representative of th
e hardly hairy human race with the fully furred Quetibb: the cruelty, arrogance, impatience and single-mindedness of the Controllers, becoming more agitated in the process. “I wish I knew more about how the Star Drive is controlled. I really only know how to fix Drive chamber breakdowns… or make them happen!”
The Quetibb’s slightly open mouth indicated her amusement at this revelation. “I thought, as I studied the powerful Drives, that we should not have beaten the Narlavs in their impressive ship.” Quetod nodded to emphasise her own statement. “We owe you a debt we can never repay.”
Gich shrugged this off, breathing deeply. “We had decided long ago that our life as slaves was only valuable if we continually looked for that magical moment when we could take advantage of circumstances to topple the Controllers – we felt sure that, if we kept looking, such a moment would eventually occur. One situation we thought of was that of battle, if there ever was one. When it happened, we knew almost nothing of it, of course, but we could tell the ship was under attack – the choice was easy and the effect better than we could have hoped for! And to think that even one of us would survive… None of us thought that possible. I am forever thankful to you for finding me.” Gich took several breaths before continuing. “The problem with constructing a complete vessel is that I was never trained in anything apart from Eliminators for Star Drives. I still hope that your searchers will find more active data modules in the wreckage – then we can figure the other stuff out together!”
“They still look. They have to force the crushed parts back into their original position, or at least separate them enough to create a space big enough to crawl through. It is not easy work.” Especially as the chambers are cooled somewhat by forced air, but the walls are still burning hot! Quetod urged the human to lean back against the padded, angled section of wall, to allow for maximum ventilation of the scarred lungs under the still reddish, post-blistered skin, concerned that the effort of talking was taking too great a toll. “You have been of great help to us, and when Fludrad – as he thinks – finally leads us back to Rhaal, we will be ready for any treachery. Then we will set your people free.”
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