Odysseus’s little wedge-shaped craft was right where they had left it, in high orbit above Kula’as. The Marco Polo had been gone for four and a half intervals — a little under two Kularian moontides, or about fifty Earth days. Sensing what Commander Dedrick’s response would be if they so much as suggested that Lania assist them, Ixbeth and Gorse remotely activated the psi-driven technology aboard the Mitradean ship themselves. They then brought it onto the landing deck of the Earth vessel, where Gorse immediately set to work reversing the modifications he’d made to its control systems.
Meanwhile, the Human scientists on the planet had been alerted to wrap up their studies, and the eleven Kularian “helpers” had busied themselves preparing to be shuttled down to the surface. Ixbeth joined them in what had earlier been the brotherhood’s stateroom. Everything was packed and ready to go, filling enough sacks and parcels to cover most of the floor and reach nearly to the ceiling. Their departure from Altera had been an emergency evacuation, forcing them to leave behind anything they couldn’t personally carry onto the short-hopper. Now they would be repeating the exercise, bearing their few material possessions in their arms or slung over their shoulders, and holding their most precious cargo inside their heads. Emotions were muted. Nonetheless, the air fairly crackled with anticipation as ten scholars and one defender waited for a ship’s officer to call them down to the landing deck.
“There are unoccupied dwellings waiting to be claimed in Capital City, and teaching positions still to be filled in the Archives,” Ixbeth assured them. “You won’t be able to begin working right away. Your credentials will first have to be registered with the Council of Docents. But with Prime Docent Enne endorsing your applications, I don’t think there will be any problems placing you where you need to be.”
“You’re certain she will support us?” said Docent Ribara. “After all, the brotherhood did mislead her regarding our background and qualifications.”
Ixbeth smiled. “Discovering that should make her even more determined to monitor your activities. And what better way to keep you all together and in view than by ensuring that you’re working directly beneath her as docents at the Kularian Archives?”
Amusement. Eyebrows rose and heads bobbed up and down. Ixbeth heard a deep chuckling and identified its source as Docent Quibbo. He’d always had a keen appreciation for irony.
“Attention, please,” announced a voice over the comm. “Would our Kularian guests please make their way to the landing deck, where the shuttle is ready for boarding.”
Twelve Kularians rapidly divided up the baggage and transported it out the door.
A gathering of Humans and the two Reyota stood waiting for them around the short-hopper. Yorell scanned the group of refugees and frowned, and Ixbeth tasted the tang of dawning suspicion at the back of her throat.
So did Dallia. She leaned closer and murmured, “Don’t worry about us, daughter. Avo’or will provide, as he’s done in the past.” She disencumbered Ixbeth of the bags she’d been carrying, placing them on the deck beside her own portion of the load. “Go talk to her. Distract her mind.”
“Docent Minegar,” purred Yorell as Ixbeth approached. “Does this mean you will be accompanying your family down to the surface?”
“I was just assisting with their belongings, Prime Docent. I still have to pack my own, and there will be plenty of time for a family reunion once everyone is settled in.”
“I see. And have you gathered enough information for your scholarly textbook about the Humans? Or do you plan to remain aboard the Marco Polo a while longer?”
Ixbeth sought and found Captain Takamura’s interested gaze. Her response was for him. “I’m sure the captain is anxious to refuel and return to Earth space. I won’t detain him beyond the time that it will take for Gorse to restore the Mitradean ship — which will also require additional fuel, by the way.”
“Of course. Thank you for reminding me. And afterward, you will be resuming your Human Studies post at the Kularian Archives?” Yorell persisted.
There was nothing benign about this question. It tightened Ixbeth’s scalp, raising her sense hairs.
“Actually, I was hoping to be able to turn that discipline over to someone better qualified.”
Yorell’s eyes widened. “There’s a Kularian better qualified than yourself to teach Human Studies?”
“Not a Kularian. The docent I have in mind is a Human — Doctor Deneuve.”
Hearing her name mentioned, Deneuve drew nearer to join the conversation. “You want me to teach at the Archives? Ixbeth, I’m honored!”
“That would be highly irregular,” Yorell pointed out sternly. “The Council of Docents—”
“—will come around if you endorse the appointment. This Human healer not only has extensive and accurate knowledge about the Human body, she is revered by her own people. She could be our greatest teacher, bringing students here from all over this arm of the galaxy.”
Disbelief. “You really think that other races would be interested in knowing more about Humans?” D’Ull demanded scornfully.
“Not at first,” said Yorell, her aura lightening as she visibly warmed to the idea. “For the first while, a Human docent would be nothing more than a novelty. But then word would spread.”
“Excuse me, Docents,” Takamura broke in, “but you may be getting ahead of yourselves here. Relocating a Human to a world in alien space is no simple matter. First you must make the offer to Doctor Deneuve and she has to accept it. Then begins the lengthy process of cutting through all the bureaucratic red tape generated by both our governments. Consider how long it took and how many obstacles had to be surmounted just to make possible this one visit by the Marco Polo to Kula’as.”
“Quite true, Captain,” Yorell agreed. “I would need to consult with the Council of Docents before the offer could be officially made. But I promise I will present Ixbeth’s proposal in a very positive light.”
Of course she would. Years might pass before the Kularian economy was well enough established to operate independently. Until then, travelers to Kula’as meant profits for Reyi’it. And for a Reyot-dominated Council, profit was the best distraction of all.
—— «» ——
Gorse dropped his hands to his sides and slid out from under the control console of the Mitradean vessel. Sitting on the edge of the forward hatch, he growled, “You’re staring at me. What do you need, Docent?”
Tasting bemusement rather than anger, Ixbeth stepped out of the shadows. “I brought you some caranth,” she told him, holding out a lidded cup from the mess hall. “The ship’s cook brewed it from the last few bokhara leaves. How is the work progressing?”
“More smoothly when I’m not being interrupted. And I’m discovering how much easier it is to convert conventional technology to psi-powered than it is to change it back. Odysseus told me that Mitradean ships are subject to random inspections, so I can’t leave any tool marks or other signs to indicate that this one has been tampered with.” He accepted the cup and took a long swallow.
“I’ve had a talk with my mother.”
“I’m glad that you’re back on speaking terms. Defenders shouldn’t quarrel among themselves.”
“You were right about me. I wasn’t seeing the brotherhood for what it was.”
“And now?”
“Now I understand things much better.”
“That’s good.”
“Commander Eberhart is standing by to transport the four of us — you, me, and the Reyota — down to the surface whenever you’re done.”
He watched her for a moment. “You’re wishing you could stay aboard and go exploring with the Humans.”
“Yes, and so are you. But we’re defenders, with important work to do on Kula’as. Defenders have to set priorities,” she told him primly.
“True. However, Avo’or teaches us that defenders can be other things as well. For example, once I’ve converted your trada to run on conventional fuel, you’re going to need someone to teach you how to drive it.”
“Yes, I will. At your earliest convenience, Mister Pirrit.” And with that, smiling inwardly, Ixbeth turned and trotted away. The sweetness at the back of her throat told her that he was smiling as well.
—— «» ——
“Well, Captain, this has been an adventure. Of all the Humans I’ve met so far, I believe you are my favorite.”
The short-hopper was ready to take Ixbeth, Gorse and the Reyota down to the surface. As the others gathered on the landing deck, Yorell and Takamura stood alone in the corridor just outside the door. He bowed from the shoulders in acknowledgement of the compliment, then added with a smile in his voice, “Because you enjoy a challenge, Yorell?”
“Because you care, about your people and about the future. It’s an attitude we both share. Education not only broadens the mind, it opens it. As Prime Docent, I have learned far more than I will ever be able to teach.
“Our two races have something in common, Captain. We have long been misunderstood. The Reyota have taken some questionable actions in the past, it’s true, but only out of a strong desire to establish a lasting peace in the galaxy. Now that we have succeeded, we are considered by the other races to be selfish and overbearing, and not to be trusted. Even sadder, your race is mistrusted for reasons that have never been made clear to you, over things that have never been under your control. I’m certain your Earth High Council would appreciate an opportunity to remedy that.”
“Are you suggesting a formal diplomatic agreement between our planetary governments, Councilor?”
“No. The Great Council would never sanction such a relationship, even if the Reyot High Council voted unanimously in favor of it. This would have to be completely unofficial and off the record, like our knowledge of the continuing existence of that Kularian heavy ship, and of Lania Dedrick’s dangerously strong mental powers. We already have an alliance of sorts, Captain, built upon secrets. For now, that will have to suffice.
“Having worked with you and seen for myself that everything Ixbeth said about Humans is true, I would have no qualms about calling on you again for discreet assistance should the need arise. In return, I am prepared to represent Humanity to the Great Council in a way that will help dispel their negative preconceptions about you. This would definitely facilitate the addition of your Doctor Deneuve to the teaching staff at the Kularian Archives, should she decide to accept Ixbeth’s offer. It could also potentially lead to an invitation to Earth to join the Council as a protectorate of Reyi’it. I would be doing this all on my own initiative, of course, and out of the goodness of my heart. For obvious reasons, our … arrangement must remain confidential.”
With difficulty, Takamura managed to keep his expression neutral. “That is a very generous offer, Councilor. I will convey it to my superiors at the first opportunity and report this initial visit as a diplomatic success.”
Once more a force of nature, she bestowed a regal nod on him and swept through the doorway, her dark blue robe billowing behind her. Takamura waited for her wake to settle before stepping across the threshold to join Dedrick, Lania, Tsieng, and Deneuve in saying goodbye to their last four guests.
—— «» ——
“You need to be careful,” said the metal box.
The Marco Polo had left orbit and was on her way back to Earth space. Takamura shifted in the captain’s chair, more than ready to be relieved at the end of a completely uneventful watch. As Commander Dedrick stepped off the tube car and came to join him, Takamura responded, “Careful about what, Odysseus?”
“Reyota trust no one, fear everyone. They say what others wish to hear, then do as they always intended. That is how Mitrades became slaves. How Thryggians became weapons after the war was over. How the Great Council became servants of Reyi’it.”
Takamura leaned forward. “The Thryggian who died in our Trauma room said they had been betrayed, that someone had ordered the Thryggians to make a sickness to prevent someone else from attacking. Who was he talking about, Odysseus?”
“I just told you,” said the metal box, a note of impatience creeping into its manufactured voice. “The Reyota want Earth to want to join the Great Council, for protection. It is a trap. They promise protection, then they take away freedom. They say it is to create peace. That is what others wish to hear, so no one opposes them. Then it is too late. Humans need to be careful.”
“Captain?” Dedrick ventured, frowning. “The sickness you just mentioned — is that the Angel of Death plague? Was that a preemptive strike with a biological weapon?”
“It would appear so, Commander. Developed and delivered at the behest of the Reyota, according to Odysseus, to drive us into a trap — and from what I’ve seen of them so far, I think he may be right.”
“But Humanity wasn’t the only race targeted. Alien worlds and colonies were hit as well.”
“Collateral damage, I suspect,” said Takamura, his expression hardening. “Or perhaps a fortuitous side benefit for those who ordered the strike. The galactic treaty, after all, is quite oppressive. Remember what I said earlier about plague dogs. What better way to head off rebellion than by demoralizing the general population?”
Dedrick was visibly struggling to maintain his composure. “With respect, sir, knowing what we know about the Thryggians, how can we be certain they weren’t acting alone? You said yourself that they’re sociopathic. The one that died in Med Services could easily have been lying to us, and this sort of experiment would have been right up their alley.”
Interesting. Takamura gave his second in command a narrow look, then stepped away from the captain’s chair. To the officer sitting at the communications console behind him he said, “The commander and I will be in my office if you need us.”
Dedrick followed him into the room just off the bridge. Takamura waited for the door to sigh closed behind them before speaking. “I know you weren’t playing devil’s advocate for the fun of it out there. What were you trying to avoid saying, Commander?”
Dedrick hesitated, clearly choosing his words. “We both know what the truth is, and how important it is for atrocities to be brought to light, but in this case I would strongly advise against it. Humanity is already considered to be dangerous by the Galactic Great Council. Maybe they’re right. But we’re not yet ready to hold our own against all the other races in an interstellar war, and that’s where I can see this ending up if the Great Council finds out that we suspect what they’ve done. To protect themselves, they’ll have to attack us.”
“Agreed. That is why I’ve decided to assign you to draft a voyage report that we can present to Fleet Control and the Earth High Council, one that will contain all the indisputable facts, while omitting or obfuscating any details that might prompt them to contact the aliens’ government with a complaint. It will have to be carefully worded, and you mustn’t discuss it with anyone but me.”
“Understood, Captain.”
“It is especially important that this report not include any derogatory statements about the Reyota. If Odysseus is correct and the Great Council really is their ‘servant’, we will need to tread lightly around them, at least until we have a clear picture of what their agenda is.”
“They have an agenda, the Mitrades have an agenda, the brotherhood definitely had an agenda… It seems as though everyone has an agenda except us,” Dedrick mused aloud.
Takamura’s lips quirked briefly. “That’s not entirely true, Commander. As de facto ambassadors, we’re out here to break down walls between Humanity and the other races. That’s our agenda. When we left Earth space, our only alien friend was Ixbeth Minegar. Now the Dimmlesi and the Mitrades are in our debt, the Kularian brotherhood owe us their freedom, the Reyot Prime Docent has offered to grease the diplomatic wheels for us with the Great Council, and, last but not least, we played an important role in saving the galaxy. I would call this an extremely successful voyage. And it isn’t over yet. Come with me.”
Raising a curious eyebrow, Dedrick followed him back onto the bridge.
Takamura crossed to the navigation console where the Mitradean sprawled over the controls. “Odysseus,” he said, “when we reach the edge of Earth space, you’re going to have a choice to make.”
The metal box emitted an interrogative buzz.
“You are welcome to stay aboard the Marco Polo and claim sanctuary among us Humans, if that is what you wish.”
“What I wish…” The Mitradean paused, deciding. “What I wish is to bring all Mitrades with me. This can be done?”
“How many beings are we talking about, Odysseus?” Dedrick inquired. “Thousands?”
The segmented shell darkened. “Once, we were millions. Then our home world was destroyed by the Suhore. We became thousands. We fought a war, lost many more of our kind. Now we are only hundreds, enslaved by the treaty. All must be working. We are allowed to spawn only to replace those who die.”
“Your thoughts, Commander?”
“It’s not a genocide, exactly,” said Dedrick, “but it may as well be. I would say the Mitrades fit our definition of an endangered species, sir.”
“I would agree. Our first scheduled stop inside Earth space should be Daisy Hub.”
“Yes, sir, it is. We’ll be docking there to resupply and to pick up our messages.”
“Good. Give Odysseus the coordinates of Daisy Hub so he can put the information out on the Mitradean telepathic news network. I’ll alert the station manager to expect an influx of alien immigrants.” Addressing the pilot, he added, “And then Earth’s government will help you choose a new home world, Odysseus, where your people can live, and thrive, and finally be free.”
The Mitradean’s carapace erupted in blossoms of blue and green that swirled and scalloped all the way to his tail. “Thank you, Captain Takamura,” said the metal box.
“And when Fleet Control finds out about this?” murmured Dedrick.
“I plan to tell them the truth: on Earth’s behalf, I decided to grant refugee status to a race of sentient, intelligent beings who are on the verge of extinction after being denied the most basic need of any living creature — a home. Any organization that can find fault with that is not one that Humans should be interested in being part of.”
THE BEST LAID PLANS OF BARRY NOVAK
Juno Vargas (b. 2358 — d. unknown) came to prominence as the Chief Adjudicator for New Chicago, a post she held from 2397 until 2403 C.E. Little is known of her early life. However, in the year leading up to the Battle of Daisy Hub, she was instrumental in initiating the decentralization of power on Earth, thus opening the door for a bloodless takeover by the Reformation Movement. Afterward, working with its leader Barry Novak, she is credited with brokering Earth’s first formal alliance with an alien world (Stragon), a step that later led to our recognition by the Galactic Great Council. She was a registered passenger on the arrow class vessel Liberty, captained by Gael Dedrick, when it vanished while en route to a meeting with the Great Council in 2417 C.E.
— Sic Transit Terra, An Unauthorized Planetary History
(2673 C.E.)