Xenotech Queen's Gambit: A Novel of the Galactic Free Trade Association (Xenotech Support Book 2) (31 page)

“I do,” said Tom
á
so. “Thanks to a tip from an insider we found the entrance to the lower level.”

“Was it empty?”

“Yes,” said Tom
á
so, “but not clean. We found signs that the lower lab really was being used to incubate Compliant Plague nanoparticles. Scuff marks and depressions on the floor of the lower and upper warehouses also indicate ten giant robots had been stored in the facility.”

“So Queen Sherrhi’s gambit worked. They’re going to show their hand.”

“When she speaks at Emory’s commencement on Saturday,” said Tom
á
so.

“Odds are good,” I said. “But we’ll stop them somehow.”

“Or I will,” said Tom
á
so, “with the
Charalindhri.”

“There’s something I don’t understand,” I said. “By the time your asteroid melting ship’s beams hit the surface they’re not going to be precision instruments. How are you going to make sure Queen Sherrhi and Terrhi and the rest of us aren’t fried?”

“Di
á
go has a way to evacuate the queen and the princess,” said Tom
á
so. “They won’t be there when the beam strikes.”

“But the rest of us might be?” said Poly.

She looked like she didn’t believe what she was hearing.

“As a last resort,” said Tom
á
so.

“It won’t come to that,” I said.

“It better not,” said Poly.

Martin spoke up.

“We’ll do our best to find Cornell and recapture him.”

“I’ll give you even money that he’ll be piloting a robot on Saturday morning,” said Poly.

“You may be right,” said Martin.

Tom
á
so knelt down on his front legs and bent his head toward Poly and me.

“My friends,” he said. “I know my desire to protect my Queen, my species, and the galaxy offends you.”

“Not when you put it that way, big guy,” I said.

“Nonetheless,” he said, “I beg a boon.”

“What can we do for you?” said Poly.

“Not for me,” said Tom
á
so, “for my daughter.”

“How can we help?” I asked.

“Could you and Poly please tell Terrhi a bedtime story?”

How could we say no?

Chapter 34

“You can never learn less, you can only learn more.”
— R. Buckminster Fuller

Terrhi didn’t get a bedtime story. She didn’t even get two bedtime stories, she got three. I’d called Pomy and invited her to join us at Tom
á
so’s apartment and she came up with a very inventive tale about a strong, independent Dauushan girl named Atalanthi, three suitors, and a race with three golden apples. Atalanthi used the apples to bean her suitors, won the race, and went on to live her own life. Spike liked my tale of the trolls living under the Tenth Street Bridge and their confrontation with the Three Trisabercats Gruff, but Poly’s story was Terrhi’s favorite.

“…then Princess Polhi saw that the gods had cursed Queen Sisyphushi to push the giant round boulder up the hill, but never get it to the top. ‘Let me help you,’ said the princess. Together they rolled the boulder up to the top and down the other side, where it knocked over the pillars of the mean gods’ temples like bowling pins. And Polhi and Sisyphushi were the best of friends until the end of their days.”

If we made it through the weekend, I expected that Tom
á
so would be ordering Terrhi-sized lawn bowling equipment.

When the bedtime stories were over, I walked Poly and Pomy back to the Star Palace. I kissed one sister, hugged the other, and headed back to my apartment. On the way, I heard the same scurrying sounds in the bushes I’d heard before. I made a mental note to borrow Spike from Terrhi so the two of us could flush out whatever small animal was making the noise. I was betting on chipmunks, since squirrels usually kept to the trees.

When I entered my apartment I started to worry. I really needed to get some sleep, but every time I’d had a chance for a good night’s rest or even a nap lately, some emergency appeared or some obligation landed on my shoulders. Normally, I thrive on excitement, but the chance of having to pull back to back all-nighters made me twitchy. I debated telling my phone to hold my calls, but couldn’t do that to my friends or my clients. Georgia Tech’s Advanced Galtech graduation ceremonies for master’s students started at ten, which meant I’d need to have my phone wake me at seven. I’d need that long to get ready, have breakfast, pick up Poly and her family, drive to Tech and get good seats at the Figueres Center. At least I didn’t need to worry about parking. My van would take care of that.

It was nearly midnight. Seven hours of rest would be a nice down payment on my sleep deficit. I went into my bedroom, put my phone on its charger on my bedside table, and took off all my clothes. I didn’t even have the strength to put them in the hamper—they landed on the floor. I’d worry about them later. I fell into bed and was milliseconds away from joining Shepherd in unconsciousness.

Then my phone rang.

I couldn’t summon the energy to say “Crap.”

“Who is it?” I said.

“Poly,” said my phone.

That was a call I was glad to take.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi, yourself,” said Poly.

I felt warm and happy just hearing her voice.

“I’ve missed you,” she said.

“I just hugged you fifteen minutes ago.”

“That was Pomy.”

“Oh,” I said. She could hear the smile in my voice.

“You know what I mean,” said Poly. “We’ve both been so busy we haven’t had much time for
us
.”

“Uh huh,” I said. “On that basis, I miss you, too. How’s your list coming?”

“You’re serious? You want to go right after Emory’s graduation ceremonies? For a week?”

“Yep,” I said. “Mike can handle basic support calls, and I’ve got a guy that we can use, at least temporarily, for more advanced problems.”

“But what happens when you get an emergency call and have to fly back from Tahiti or Guam or wherever?”

“This trip will be for
us.
I won’t let anything disrupt it.”

“Famous last words, Lover Boy,” she said. “And yes, I’ve been working on my list. Have you?”

“You know I have.”

“Good night, darling,” she said.

“Good night, sweetheart,” I said.

The next thing I knew my phone was telling me it was time to get up.

* * * * *

It was a beautiful morning and my van didn’t even have to circle to find a place to park. A special spot had been reserved for the guest speaker at the ceremonies. This morning’s activities were only for master’s candidates in applied fields, like engineering and galtech. There’d be a brunch—mostly a chance for parents to meet professors—following the applied graduation exercises. Physics, chemistry, biology, and such would have their ceremonies in the afternoon.

The Figueres Center was a monument to Terran architects’ first exposure to the species of the Galactic Free Trade Association. It had soaring curves and an Orishen-inspired partially melted look, similar to the Ad Astra complex. The center was constructed on a grand scale, with entrances large enough for Dauushans and Tōdons. There were also high perches and anchor points in the lobby and auditorium for Quirinx fliers and Fthtipth floaters. Separate small access doors and corridors built into the walls protected Musans and J’Vel from the feet of larger entities. Georgia Tech’s programs drew students from planets across the galaxy, so accommodating the needs of a wide range of sentient species was a necessity.

Chit had said that she’d stay in her bottle and watch the festivities on television, via closed circuit broadcasts from my phone and the university’s public feed. That way she could still watch her programs in split screen. I wondered if that was just her excuse for wanting to sleep in.

Poly left us to go wherever it was the degree recipients were congregating and Barbara went backstage. She’d be sitting up on the stage with the other dignitaries. Perry, Pomy and I found the seats that Barbara had insisted be reserved for us in the center of the second row. I wore my best suit, the one I wore on my first date with Poly. Perry was wearing a distinguished gray pinstripe suit and a crimson Harvard tie with little
VE-RI-TAS
shields. Pomy had on one of her new dresses—it was sleeveless with blue and white stripes—and looked great.

Precisely at the stroke of ten—these were engineers and technologists, after all—the ceremony started. First the Deans and speakers entered the stage. I was talking to Pomy and didn’t notice until a brass quintet in the balcony started to play something from Holst’s
The Planets.
The faculty, in full academic regalia, processed down the left aisle and stood in the seats reserved for them at the front of the auditorium. I recognized Professor Urrrson—he was tall enough to stand out. Then the master’s and PhD candidates marched down the right side in caps and gowns and stood at their reserved seats. A T
ō
don and two Dauushan students stood in the right aisle. I wondered what the fire marshal would think? When everyone arrived, the music stopped. Then the Dean of the School of Engineering stood and motioned us to sit. She stepped to the podium.

“Degree candidates, members of the faculty, parents, friends and honored guests,” said the dean, “We gather to celebrate an important milestone. Today is the culmination of the hard work and dedication of the one hundred and ninety-seven members of the graduating class of master’s degree candidates and fifteen candidates for doctorates. As is our custom, the student with the best academic record in the class of 2030 will now share a few words. Please welcome this year’s top student, Ms. Polyhymnia Keen Jones.”

You could have knocked me over with a Quirinx feather when I saw Poly replace the dean at the microphone. She’d been on stage, but I hadn’t been able to see her because she was masked by the podium. My phone climbed up on my shoulder and started capturing her on video.

“Back in the twentieth century,” said Poly, “a wise man saw that our planet was more than the ground beneath our feet. For him, it was Spaceship Earth, an amazing vessel for transporting us into the future. If Buckminster Fuller had lived to see the Galactics’ arrival, he would have had one thing to say to them: ‘What took you so long?’ We are students of engineering and galactic technologies, and we’re making up for lost time, learning what galtech can do for Terra and what Terran science and engineering can do for the galaxy. We are the ones who have to write the operating manual for Spaceship Earth as it takes us to the stars.”

Poly paused and looked out at the grads, parents and faculty.

“Many years ago, Fuller said ‘Sometimes I think we’re alone. Sometimes I think we’re not. In either case, the thought is staggering.’ We now know that we are
not
alone and it
is
staggering. We must find our own place in the community of sentient species as we learn from them and welcome seekers of knowledge from other planets here to learn from us.”

She paused again and took a deep breath.

“Bucky—I think he’d be glad to have us call him that—once said, ‘I am not a thing — a noun. I seem to be a verb, an evolutionary process — an integral function of the universe.’ We all need to go out into the galaxy and be verbs, action verbs, looking to find our function and making ourselves integral parts of the galaxy. Remember, as Fuller said, ‘There is no joy equal to that of being able to work for all humanity and doing what you’re doing well.’”

A smattering of applause came from the audience. Poly kept speaking.

“In conclusion, we must all keep open minds, or as Fuller put it, ‘Dare to be naive.’ There’s still so much for us to learn. I’ll leave you with these parting words of Bucky wisdom, ‘You can never learn less, you can only learn more.’ Let’s keep learning more, my friends, let’s keep learning more. Thank you.”

Poly stepped back from the podium and heard enthusiastic applause from everyone in the auditorium. Her fellow students rose to give her a standing ovation and members of the faculty and parents stood as well. Professor Urrrson was one of the faculty members clapping the loudest. Poly smiled, bowed in appreciation, and sat down. I wondered if she’d been writing her speech on some of the nights when she said she was working on her research paper? Whenever she wrote it, it was time well spent.

The people organizing the ceremony were smart enough not to follow Poly’s speech with another speaker. Instead, Georgia Tech’s off-planet all female a cappella group, the Gal-actics, sang two pop songs from before First Contact. One was about girls just wanting to have fun, and the little Pyr in front hit the high notes with two of her mouths while doing vocal percussion with the remaining pair. Two Tigrammaths, a P
â
kk, a Musan, two Nic
ó
sns, and a young adult Dauushan made up the rest of the ensemble. They were quite good and I started humming along.

Then came a man playing Bach’s
D minor Partita
on the violin. The mathematical precision of Bach’s music struck a chord with the technically inclined graduates. Finally it was time for Poly’s mother to give her commencement address. I’d expected her to speak from her head, telling the audience what she’d learned by traveling the galaxy. Instead, she surprised me. She spoke from the heart and didn’t make her speech about her, but about Poly.

“When I visited to the worlds of the Galactic Free Trade Association to write books,” said Barbara, “I brought my daughter along with me, hoping to teach her about alien societies. Instead, my daughter taught me. I saw the ruins of Old Pyr with jaded eyes that looked on these ancient structures as ways to get rich selling Keen’s Guides.
She showed me how they looked through her young eyes, wide with wonder, and reawakened my own inner child.”

B
arbara continued, talking about how much it meant for her to share the tall towers of the sacred Tigrammath city of Purrin, the canals of Neue Staddam on Nicós, the ever-changing forests on Orish,
the mounds of the little makers on Dauush and the Long P
â
kk shrine of remembrance on Akkh
ê
nt
ó
k with her daughter. She even admitted that Poly’s translation of
Dauushan Strata
was better than her
Dauushan Lasagna
alternative. That one prompted more than a few laughs. Everyone in the audience was listening carefully. Students weren’t even looking at their phones. After fifteen minutes, she brought her address to a close.

“My daughter said it better than I could,” said Barbara. “‘Dare to be naive,’ she said, quoting Buckminster Fuller. If you keep the eyes of youth, the wonders of the galaxy will always be yours. Thank you.”

The audience rose to its feet, clapping and cheering. Barbara brought Poly up to stand with her at the podium and they embraced. Mother and daughter both had tears of joy running down their cheeks. I might have needed a tissue or two myself.

The ceremony where diplomas were bestowed was almost an anticlimax. When Polyhymnia Keen Jones’ name was called, there was applause, even though no one was supposed to clap until the end. At last, the formal commencement ritual was over and the crowd started to filter out to the lobby and adjacent courtyard where a brunch was laid out on long tables.

There was a lot of commotion after the ceremony. Graduates were congratulating each other and milling about, blocking the aisles. As I was walking out of the auditorium with Poly and her family, I heard a disturbance in the aisle behind me. A tall nymph in the abbreviated Orishen version of a cap and gown was making his way up behind us. He looked like a human-sized praying mantis with sharp blades on his shins and forearms. The nymph was wearing blade covers, but nearby humans were wisely giving him lots of space.

“Are you Jack Buckston?” said the nymph, once he reached us.

“That’s me. What can I do for you?”

This must be the nymph that was asking about me in the dean’s office.

“I am Shuvvath,” he said, “and I am in your debt.”

“Shuvvath?” said Poly. “From Zesto’s?”

“Yes,” said the Orishen. “You prevented me from attacking and killing several sentients, including children.”

“Glad to help,” I said.

“Me, too,” said my favorite graduate. “I’m Poly Jones.”

“If not for your fast thinking, the police might have had to kill me to stop me,” said Shuvvath. “I owe you a life debt, Mr. Buckston. And you too, it seems, Ms. Jones.”

Pomy was whispering to her parents, telling them about what had happened when Poly and I had gone for ice cream and found an Orishen pupa case about to split and release its dangerous nymph form. The sisters must have had time to catch up on each other’s lives.

“I’m just glad you’re okay now,” I said.

“Right,” said Poly. “Have a good life and we’ll consider the debt repaid.”

“That is not how it works,” said Shuvvath. “I have been trying to find you for weeks. I need to serve you for a year and a day.”

“An Orishen year?” I asked.

Orishen years are twenty percent longer than our years.

“No, local time reference is fine,” said Shuvvath.

Poly and I looked at each other.

“Let’s continue this discussion in the lobby,” said Poly. “People want to talk to my mom and after all the nervous energy I expended giving my speech I could really use some food.”

“Excellent,” said the Orishen.

We made our way to the delicious spread and all helped ourselves to plates of crepes, bacon, mini-quiches, and other typical brunch entrées. Poly introduced her family to Professor Urrrson and the Tigrammath artificial intelligence expert praised Poly enough that I saw her cheeks get red. Then Barbara was surrounded by a crowd of admirers and Perry stayed close to her and smiled a lot. Professor Urrrson bowed and stepped away to speak with a faculty colleague. Pomy walked over to tell the members of the Gal-actics how much she’d enjoyed their music.