Worlds Away (22 page)
“I don’t want a job here,” Justine said, then she gave him a
hard look. “You’re human; how can you just sit there when you know the Kulsat
are going to wipe us all out?”
“I don’t want that to happen any more than you, but I
believe in the Law. Ah Tabai’s scout ship accessed your database. The
Collection is aware of your history. There are many conflicts in your world; it
was one such that caused you to flee. If we were to extend the knowledge of Aether
technology now, who can say if humans won’t become the next Kulsat?”
She didn’t want to hear those words, and though her first
impulse was to deny the possibility, in her heart she knew humanity still had
some maturing to do.
However, she believed they needed the time and opportunity
to find their way in the galaxy. The Kulsat would destroy their future.
There had to be a way for Justine to stop them…
Sierra
de las Minas :
Guatemala
:
Alondo swept the
spectrometer over the alien, and nodded to Michael. “It is made of Kinemet.”
“How can that be?” Michael gasped. Kinemats, such as Alex,
were altered at the molecular level by Kinemetic radiation. It seemed as if this
creature—the Grace?—had a quantity of the element as part of its physiology.
What did that mean?
Michael’s mind raced. Did the Grace have Kinemet as part of
their natural biological makeup? Or had they figured out a way to infuse
themselves with the element, and alter themselves on a genetic level? Was it
because of this that they were able to create the network of star beacons? Or
had the star beacons been there all along, despite the legends, and the Grace
had somehow changed from a million years of exposure? If the Grace were made of
Kinemet, then perhaps they would not decompose like a normal biological being;
it was possible the Kinemet in them would sustain the body’s cells until the
element decayed slowly over hundreds of thousands of years, though the creature’s
brain would cease to function.
Another question entered his mind: if the Grace decayed
rather than decomposed, then there should be millions of alien bodies strewn
throughout the galaxy. There were not; what had happened to them? He recalled
the story, how the alien had asked Subo Ak to cremate him. Is that how the
Grace slowly disappeared? They came to a planet and arranged for their own
death? Go out in a blaze of fire? Michael initially balked at the thought, but
then he realized that he didn’t truly understand their motivations.
He needed more information on the Grace, the Kulsat, and the
origins of Kinemet. Everything he knew, he’d surmised from what little Ah Tabai
had divulged before his death.
He wished fervently that George and Kenny were still alive.
Both loved to speculate on such things. Often, throwing around ideas led them
down paths none of them would think of on their own. Both were friends as well
as colleagues.
As if assuming Michael had all the answers ready for the
asking, Alondo waved his hand over the alien’s body. “What does this mean?”
“It means there is no deposit of Kinemet for you to mine.”
The other man frowned, and Michael could almost read the
thoughts going through his mind. How would they be able to monetize this
discovery? Selling Kinemet would be a straight black market trade, with a
definitive value per quantity. Who wanted the alien body, and how much would
they pay for it? It was a more complex proposition for Alondo, and he looked at
Michael as if to ask for a hint on what the next step should be.
“There are only two governments that have the experience and
resources to explore this discovery,” Michael said. “USA, Inc. and Canada Corp.
Do you want me to contact my superiors and set up a meet?”
Alondo scoffed at him. “Nice try, Mr. Sanderson. But I think
we will make our own plans.” He pointed at the alien. “How do you suggest we
handle the body?”
“I would recommend we leave it as is for now. We have no
idea what will happen if we alter the environmental conditions. Kinemet can be
a volatile element. Exposure to sunlight can have a detrimental effect. We need
to be extremely careful.”
Together, the three of them filed out of the cave through
the narrow crevice, Nadia taking the lead, followed by her brother, with Michael
last.
When he reached the opening, Michael was blocked by Alondo’s
legs, and he suffered a moment of claustrophobia, wondering if the young
criminal had decided to cut him out of the equation and leave him there.
Someone from outside the cave barked out an order in
Spanish,
“¡Alejarse!”
A moment later, Alondo stepped out of Michael’s
way.
Holding his breath, Michael pushed himself outside. His
stomach knotted when he stood up and looked around. The entire area was
surrounded by Guatemalan soldiers, all pointing their rifles at them.
The captain of the soldiers and Alondo exchanged several
heated words in their native language, speaking too fast for Michael to
understand. Even still, he got the impression that both men were familiar with
each other.
After they finished their exchange, the soldiers put down
their weapons. Alondo turned to Michael, his face red and his eyes narrow. “It
seems our plans have been made for us.”
Alondo shared a sour look with his sister. “All right. Let’s
get packed up.”
∞
The captain left one squad of armed soldiers to secure the
area while he directed the rest of his men to escort the Ruiz’s and the others
back to the base camp. Several more military trucks were in the area. A
squadron of Guatemalan soldiers had taken over the operation.
Michael and the Ruiz siblings rode in one truck with the
captain and four of his guards. Together, they headed away from the camp. Once
they reached Los Amates, they turned east. A little over an hour later, they
arrived at their destination, a beachfront estate on the Caribbean Sea.
During the trip, none of the soldiers spoke to them, and
though both Alondo and Nadia whispered to one another, they ignored Michael.
Once they got out of the truck, the three of them were
greeted by a small squad of Guatemalan soldiers, who escorted them to the main
building.
Inside, dressed in the uniform of a general, a dark-haired,
middle-aged man with a thin, black mustache, which drooped at the corners of
his smiling mouth, stepped out from a side room and gave Michael a conciliatory
nod of his head.
“Once again, I must apologize for your treatment. Welcome to
my home.”
Michael couldn’t believe his eyes, and though he opened his
mouth, no words came out.
Nadia, her voice cracking with shock, said,
“¿Papá?”
“What are you doing here?” Alondo asked, more outraged than
surprised. “I thought you were still in prison?”
Obviously enjoying himself, Oscar Ruiz made a dramatic bow
and said, “I haven’t been there for years, my son. It suited me to let the
world believe I was still incarcerated. It gave me freedom to accomplish a
great many things.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Nadia asked, then she frowned. “Is
this why you would not permit us to visit you in La Granja?”
“I assure you, it was necessary. My apologies, my children.
Of course, you will forgive me.”
Both the siblings looked hesitant.
Then Oscar waved his hand at them. “Come, we have much to
discuss, and my other guests are waiting.”
Numbly, Michael let himself be led into the adjacent room.
He guessed who was in the room before he got all the way inside.
Yaxche, Patli, and Humberto were sitting beside one another
on a long couch, looking refreshed.
“Are you all right?” Michael asked Yaxche, his eyes
encompassing all three of them.
“Ahyah,” the old Mayan said with a grin. “We’ve been here
since noon.”
Humberto glared at Señor Ruiz. “Where are the others?”
“Do not worry yourself. I ‘liberated’ everyone from my
children’s custody and brought them here. Your injured friends are in another
part of the complex being treated as we speak. You see, I am not an uncivilized
man.”
Oscar Ruiz gestured to a table with trays of meats, fruits
and pastries. “Please, eat something. I must apologize if the coffee is not
quite as good as what we grew on my plantation.”
Alondo and Nadia made no move toward the refreshments, but
Michael’s stomach growled. He wasn’t certain what Oscar’s intentions were, but
from his last encounter, he decided the man’s sense of hospitality would
prevent him from having his guests harmed out of hand.
Michael picked up a small dish and filled it with a few
choice selections from the table. He found a chair and sat down.
Around the food in his mouth, Michael said, “You arranged to
have me abducted at the airport.”
“I prefer to say that I tried to extend an invitation to
you, Mr. Sanderson, without the knowledge of the Honduran or Canadian
authorities. I’ve been paying a great deal of money to ensure everyone thinks I
am still incarcerated in La Granja Prison. If my ‘old friend’ Humberto had not
interceded, we all could have saved a great deal of time.”
He glanced at his children. “I am sorry if you have suffered
in the past few years, but it was necessary to maintain the fiction. I know you
are angry with me, but now that you are here, we will combine our efforts, and
once again become prosperous.”
“In Guatemala?” Alondo asked.
“Honduras is aligned too closely with the northern
countries. The Cruzados are now nothing more than a group of nostalgic farmers
and peasants—I’m sorry if that insults you, but it is the truth,” he said to
Humberto. “However, the CEO of Guatemala Departmental understands where the
future is, and together, we are working to ensure our place in the Empire.”
Michael had a sinking sensation in his gut. “The Solan
Empire?”
He couldn’t believe it. Somehow, Chow Yin had aligned
himself with the government of Guatemala. Had this been his plan all along? Was
this why he had really let Michael go, rather than simply to appease Alex? If
so, how had Yin known what Michael’s purpose was? Even Michael hadn’t known
what he was looking for until he got here. Or had Chow Yin merely been playing
the long odds?
Oscar smiled. “I will answer all of your questions, Mr.
Sanderson,” he said, “and I will ensure your friends are returned to their
homes in Honduras unharmed.”
“I sense a condition,” he said.
Nodding, Oscar said, “And I’m certain you can guess that
condition.”
During the long ride in the truck, Michael had plenty of
time to think through the various possibilities. It all came down to one,
however: possession of the alien body. Michael had hoped that no one knew the
true purpose of his journey. Now that Oscar revealed that he was working for
the Solan Empire, he knew a message would have already been dispatched to Chow
Yin, informing him of the discovery.
He suddenly lost his appetite. “You want me to work for
you.”
“His Highness has sent word to provide you with the most
state-of-the-art laboratory facilities and equipment available, and to extend
every convenience to you. Your stay with me here will be comfortable, I assure
you. Once you have completed your work, we will make arrangements to send your
friends home.”
Michael felt like he’d been kicked in the gut.
Alondo, the look of anger having changed to one of
anticipation during the course of the conversation, said, “What of us, Father?”
“Ah,” Oscar said. “I would like you to return to the dig
site and take over once again. I am certain Mr. Sanderson will instruct you on
the precautions you need to follow in order to transport the alien body here
safely.” He winked at his son. “It is time for me to take you under my wing,
and mold you to become my heir in the new empire.”
To Nadia, he said, “My daughter, I have a very important mission
for you. With all our new guests, I require someone to run the household—” At
her sour look, Oscar held up a hand to forestall any protest. “—and to liaise
with the Guatemalan CEO’s office as an official ambassador of the Solan Empire.
Do you think you are up to the task?”
For the first time, Michael saw the young woman’s eyes light
up. It would be a prestigious position.
“Now,” Oscar said to Michael, “you have to excuse me while I
report the good news to His Highness.”
Michael dropped the plate of food on the table, its contents
uneaten, and shared a miserable look with Humberto. He’d been a pawn in Chow
Yin’s game all along.
Skanse
Aerie :
Gliesan
System :
Justine
accompanied Yoatl
to his apartment on another spire, where she met his
wife, Ekthin. She was a dainty woman, who spoke with a very soft voice.
“Welcome to our home,” she said by way of greeting. “I hope
the outfits I chose are to your satisfaction.”
“They’re perfect.” Justine grabbed the fabric of her top and
stretched it out. “What’s it made of?”
“There’s a small species of animal on Gliese, similar to the
opossums of Earth, that produces this for their nests. We’ve managed to
synthesize the material. It’s very durable and warm. We call it
swa.”
Yoatl gestured to a living room area. “Come, make yourself
comfortable. I hope you don’t mind, but before I take you to your quarters,
there are several of the Solan Society’s members I would like you to meet. I
hope that will be all right.”
“After I retired from NASA, I got a job as a public
relations hostess for diplomats and ambassadors.” Justine laughed. “I am more
than comfortable with crowds.”
Smiling widely, Yoatl said, “Excellent. I will let them know
you are ready to meet them.”
∞
Justine spent the better part of the evening chatting with
the dozen guests Yoatl invited. For the most part, they were more interested in
her personal history than world events. They wanted to hear stories of her time
in NASA as a pilot. Her history with Alex and Michael was a hot topic, but when
she spoke about Yaxche, everyone grew excited.
“From what we’ve learned, we share common ancestry with him;
his forefathers and ours were from the same region on Earth,” one of the older
men said. “I would have enjoyed meeting him.”
“I didn’t spend a lot of time with him,” Justine said. “But
he is very wise. I’m sure he’d love to meet you someday.”
The evening went on for longer than Justine had expected,
and when Yoatl finally announced that it was time for their guest of honor to
retire, she was more than grateful.
Saying goodbye to the visitors took another hour, and by the
time the last one was gone, Justine was exhausted.
He escorted her to another apartment at the end of the
spire. “There was some debate on where to house you,” he said. “The commander
of the station thought you might be more comfortable with the other Aethers,
but we convinced him you would adjust to life here faster if you were
surrounded by Solans.”
Justine didn’t want to tell him that it didn’t matter to her
where they put her; she had no intention of adjusting to life on Skanse Aerie,
as wondrous as it was. Instead, she smiled at him and shook his hand as they
stopped outside the apartment door of her new quarters.
“Thank you,” she said to him.
“I will come by tomorrow morning, and we can begin your
orientation.”
“That would be perfectly fine.” Justine waved her hand over
the protrusion on the wall—as she’d seen Yoatl do at his apartment—and her door
slid open. They both said their good-nights, and Justine went inside.
She was too tired to take a full tour of the apartment, and
only looked around long enough to spot the reclining platform. A few hours’
meditation there was just what she needed.
∞
After resting, she explored her new quarters. There were
four rooms. Besides the lavatory and reclining platform, there was a kitchen
with a nest-shaped area for eating. Justine climbed on and played around with
the console until the panel in the wall folded out. Pressing a few other
buttons on the console produced a breakfast dish—at least, she hoped it was
breakfast. A shallow container appeared in the recess, filled with something
that looked to be of the same consistency as the vegetable mash from last
night. She tasted it, and decided it was palatable. She remembered how to order
water, though she would have preferred coffee—she had no idea if Gliese had
anything like caffeine.
Once she’d eaten, she went to the large, central room that
she decided was the main living area. There was some odd-looking furniture
placed around the room. Instead of chairs, there were soft pedestals. She
assumed the Gliesans were more comfortable perching on these than sitting.
Yoatl’s apartment had more earth-style furnishings, all designed for humans.
She’d have to ask him about getting some for herself.
Along one wall, she recognized a computer area, set up
similar to the one aboard the
Fainne
. Immediately, she sat down on the
curved chair, and the holographic monitor flickered on.
It didn’t look as if the computer had a synaptic interface,
but she was just as comfortable tapping the controls with her fingers.
Previously, she’d researched the ancient history of the
Kulsat. She needed more current information, and she spent the next hour
scouring the Gliesan database for anything that would help her understand them,
and provide her with a means of stopping them from destroying Sol System.
The Kulsat home world was largely a mystery to the rest of
the galaxy. They were a highly paranoid society, and they had a contingent of
several hundred warships guarding their star beacon at all times. The
Collection sent Sentinel scout ships on reconnaissance to the Kulsat System on an
unsystematic cycle. The ships would materialize in Kulsat space, take as many
readings as they could, and fly back seconds before the Kulsat Risen could
close access to the star beacon, and before the warships could fire on them.
Over the past several hundred years, major offensives had
been launched. At one time, before the Aetherbeings worked out how to limit access
to the star beacon, more than a dozen systems had sent thousands of Collection
ships to attack Kulsat in a concerted effort.
They’d managed to get past the first line of defenses, but
before they could meet the bulk of the Kulsat armada, every Kulsat ship that
had been in other systems returned home. The Collection ships were trapped
between the two forces, and had been decimated. It was the last time anyone had
attempted to bring the fight to the enemy.
The Kulsat, with their numbers and technology, had attacked
and destroyed over ten-thousand cultures since the war had started a millennium
ago.
So far, the only effective defense against them was to
remain as unnoticeable as possible, and not to pose an immediate threat. As in
Gliese, all star systems maintained a permanent patrol around their star
beacon. Should it activate from any Kulsat-occupied system, the Aetherbeings
would all work together to suppress access through the star beacon. Although
the technique was effective against an armada, it would not stop a small number
of ships from passing through. There was always a military presence on hand to
deal with such situations.
In order for Sol System to defend itself, it would require
enough Kinemats to do the same thing to their star beacon, and they would need a
fleet of warships to interdict any Kulsat who managed to get through the
restricted opening. Also, they would need to understand the technology the
other systems had developed to read and control the star beacons. For all
Justine knew, that could take years…
Growing despondent in the knowledge of what seemed like
insurmountable odds, Justine called up some non-military information, wondering
if there was some other way to defeat the undefeatable force.
As a society, the Kulsat evolution was driven by necessity.
Their home world, mostly oceanic, was a harsh environment, filled with dozens
of underwater predators. In their history, the Kulsat were easy prey, and had
needed to develop the ability to use tools and weapons to ensure their
survival.
Their progress had been geared toward industrial endeavors,
and their social structure was based on technological merit; the more advanced
they were, the higher their chance to protect their species against their
enemies—and they considered any non-Kulsat an enemy. It was almost as if they
had a genetic predisposition toward paranoia.
One social theorist in the Collection posited that meeting
the Grace would have been one of the most frightening experiences in Kulsat
history: a force so far advanced that they were completely at their mercy. As
with many militaristic cultures, the Kulsat, realizing they were powerless, had
become subservient to the Xtôti, biding their time until their own technology
advanced to the point where they no longer felt threatened.
Once the Xtôti died off, the Kulsat had begun a
thousand-year campaign of expansion and domination that terrorized the galaxy.
Justine lifted her head when she heard the chime at her
door, and quickly stepped over to answer it. Yoatl was waiting for her.
“I trust you had a restful night?” he asked.
Nodding, Justine said, “Yes. I have to say, that hammock is
one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever been in. I just wish I could
experience sleep; then I could take full advantage of it.”
“It’s an extension of the nests the prehistoric Aves made.
Warm, supportive, and protective.” Yoatl crooked his head. “Have you thought
about my offer to join the Solan Society? We’re much more than just a casual
affiliation of humans; many Aves are also members. We are strong advocates for
future ties between Gliese and Sol, when they eventually become members of the
Collection.”
“That does sound promising,” Justine said. Although Yoatl
had already shown that he was a man who believed in the Galactic Law, and would
not go against it, there might be others who were more sympathetic, and could
provide Justine with other means to accomplish her goal: stopping the Kulsat.
“Before we do anything else, is there any way I can see Red
Spot, and see if she’s all right?”
“Of course,” Yoatl said with a kind smile. “Though they have
not been afforded nearly as much privilege as you, the Kulsat have been granted
official refugee status from the Parliament. We can head there right away, if
you like.”
“Yes, please.”
Stepping back to give Justine enough room to exit her
apartment and join him in the long hall, he said, “On an interesting side note,
Gliese has been, historically, very welcoming to species from other worlds. I
believe nearly eight percent of the Gliesan citizenship are xenomorphic in
origin. Should Red Spot and the others desire to work toward citizenship, they
would be the first Kulsat in the history of Gliese to do so.” A moment later,
he added, “I’m sure, if you should decide to apply for citizenship, we could
push for a quick approval. There are only five Solan Aetherbeings—including Ah
Tabai—I’m certain you could become a role model, and perhaps convince others to
attempt the conversion.”
“Only five?” Justine asked.
“The Solans on Gliese are highly family-oriented, and we
have kept many of our ancestral traditions, including a great reverence for
nature. The sacrifice of being away from home and hearth for the rest of one’s
life is a difficult decision to make. I believe the Solan Society would gain
political status with the Parliament if we could contribute more to space
industries.”
They’d reached the central hub of the station, and Yoatl
directed Justine to another platform that floated above the large area and ended
near the entrance of a guarded spire.
Two Gliesans looked up as they approached, and one of them
faced Yoatl. “Ambassador,” he said, shooting a glance at Justine. “We weren’t
expecting you.”
Yoatl gave the guard a polite nod. “Last-minute decision to
see to our other new guests.”
“One moment, please.”
The other guard tapped something on a podium in front of
him. Justine assumed it was a computer or a communications console, because a
few moments later, the guard nodded to his colleague. “The commander has cleared
them for visitation.”
The first guard stepped aside for them. “I trust you know
the way, Ambassador?”
Yoatl said, “Thank you, yes. I promise, next time, I’ll get
my office to clear it first.”
“Pleasant day to you,” the guard said, and then took up his position
in front of the entrance once again.
The spire itself was far more utilitarian than the others,
designed more for efficiency than for esthetics. It was unmistakably a military
area. The long canyon-like hallway with the ceiling projection of the other
spires was not in evidence. Yoatl led Justine to the automatic transport
platform and both stepped on, patiently waiting as the conveyor took them all
the way to the top of the spire. Instead of narrow corridors connecting the
transport platform to the main body of the spire, there were wide hangar-like
bay doors. Many of them were open to allow quick access for the hundreds of
Gliesan soldiers, mechanics, engineers, clerks and supervisors as they went
about their duties.
“Kulsat gravity is slightly higher than Gliese,” Yoatl
explained. “We have the last segment of the spire sectioned off and converted
to a self-contained water environment as closely matched to their home world as
we could. There’s plenty of space for all of them, though quite of few of the
Kulsat have had to double-up until we can install more individual domiciles.”
When they reached the last section, they were stopped again
by two more guards who took biosignature readings before allowing Yoatl and
Justine in.
A small hallway led to a glass viewing area.
“There’s a visual monitor on the inside and a computer
interface for the Kulsat to use. Their interpersonal communication is based
entirely on a complex sign language. Their written language is technical in
nature, and was developed mostly to forward their industrial advances. Even
with our communication computers, things sometimes get lost in translation.”
Though the glass covered the wall in the room, it didn’t
show the entire water environment on the other side. There was a rocky wall
that obscured the view. Even the Kulsat deserved a little privacy.
