Eric Stroheim stared at the Admiral, the anger evident on his face. He glanced to Tomas, expecting to find support for him against the New Terran’s outrageous behavior, but the Leader’s face mirrored that of the Admiral’s.
Tomas continued to approach the silver ship. Up close, he examined the contrast between the dark, polished hull and the mottled areas, laying a tentative hand on a shiny area, and marveled at the ultra-smooth surface. It felt as if a fine layer of oil coated the ship’s skin.
Being the gregarious individual that he was, Mickey launched into an update for their guests about what they had and hadn’t discovered about the ship. He went so far as to play the vid that Alex and Julien had created as they pieced together the mystery of the aliens, who burrowed into the planet’s surface and used subterranean passages to mine the planet’s minerals.
The Rêveur’s people stood quietly by as their guests watched the vid unfold, a display of imaginative pattern mapping. When the vid ended, the view rotated to expose the substrata, which were highlighted in translucent colors, exposing the myriad of tunnels that connected the mined mineral locations to the silver domes. Mickey credited his Admiral and the ship’s SADE with the concept.
Julien added, <I was merely the librarian, Sers. The concept’s architect is our leader, Admiral Racine.>
The Rêveur’s crew straightened their shoulders proudly as the Librans turned to regard Alex with wonder and, perhaps, with a touch of fear. While he appeared similar to them, his behavior and capabilities were far outside that of any Méridien they had known.
Renée stepped beside Alex, taking his arm at the elbow as she had just done for the first time on their walk to greet the Librans, and sent, <He is our Ancient,> bestowing on Alex the honored Méridien term. Renée felt Alex’s hand close possessively over hers, and she smiled at him before turning a penetrating stare on Ser Angelina Monti, who did not miss the message.
The Méridien’s most prestigious celebration day was Colonists Day. They were extremely grateful to their founders who had successfully developed their new world. That Earth colonists, raised on a stronger gravity world, possessed greater stature than present-day Méridiens, had added to their mystique and heroic image. Over the centuries, New Terra, with 11 percent greater gravity than Earth’s, had added more mass to the average New Terran than those of the Méridiens’ Ancients.
And Alex stood out among New Terrans. His father, Duggan Racine, had trained as a shuttle pilot and fielded a job recovering space debris from orbit. Duggan’s assistant had quit when he was almost killed in a foolish accident with his EVA suit. Weeks of income might have been lost while Duggan interviewed for a replacement, but then his eleven-year-old son had volunteered to help him. Most fathers would have refused outright, laughing at the suggestion, but then most fathers didn’t have Alex for a son.
Schooling could take place on children’s readers, so Alex would sit in the copilot seat, studying, while his father readied the shuttle and flew into orbit. Per his father’s strongly worded orders, Alex had stayed in the shuttle while his father performed the EVA trip and Alex operated the recovery winch. In zero-g, the space refuse, composed mostly of metal, had no weight. The hard work came after landing when the debris had to be dragged to the shuttle’s ramp, winched, and loaded into the hover-truck for transport to the recycling center. It had been heavy work for a young boy, until one day, having added thirty-nine kilos of muscle, it wasn’t.
Tomas turned from admiring the captured ship. <A wonderful accomplishment, Admiral. How did you manage this?>
<With difficulty,> Alex sent. <We started with four pilots and four Daggers … that’s the name of our fighters. We lost one pilot and two Daggers to capture one alien ship.>
Eric stared aghast at Alex. <You … You sent people to their deaths? Were they Méridiens?> His thoughts were laced with accusation.
Alex released Renée’s arm and closed on the Leader, his mass intimidating the man, but the Méridien held his ground. <You do not fight the aliens without being willing to die to win,> Alex sent.
Eric swallowed under the Admiral’s glare, noticing the blood pounding in the arteries of the New Terran’s thick neck. The Leader’s security placed their hands on their stun weapons, and Tatia signaled Étienne and Alain, who stepped toward the Leader’s two security personnel, escalating the tension in the bay.
<My crew risks their lives every day, including our fighter pilots, who are New Terrans,> Alex sent, while extending a finger toward the Leader’s face. <But understand this, Ser Stroheim … the man we lost died for all humans, including you.>
In the sudden stillness that followed Alex’s angry release, a quiet thought was heard: <I’m saddened by your loss, Admiral, and would know the name of your pilot so that we may honor his sacrifice.>
Alex turned toward the speaker, Tomas Monti, and in the face of the honest words that had been offered him, he deflated. <Your words are appreciated, Ser Monti. He was Lieutenant Jason Willard.>
Eric Stroheim, always the consummate Leader, recognized the extent to which the Admiral’s focus was shifting toward “his” Independents. So Eric vied for some attention of his own. <And I must offer my apologies, Admiral Racine, to you and your people. The death of a person, the sacrifice of a life, is still a frightening concept to us. We are by design a peaceful people, and it’s true that our nature has cost our people dearly. Yet it’s still a shock to learn that humans are attacking our foe with the intent to kill.>
Tomas walked up to Alex, carefully regarding him from top to bottom and side to side. <My large friend, I think you came to Libre for a reason, and I, for one, would love to hear it.>
Alex, his people, and the visitors retired to the meal room where the tables had been rearranged to accommodate the two groups. Security took up positions behind their charges.
Renée opened the discussion by summarizing the events aboard the Rêveur from its attack by the silver ship to its discovery by Alex in the New Terran system seventy years later. But the painful memories of the loss of so many House associates brought her story stumbling to a halt. Alex picked up the thread of the story, detailing the agreement with New Terra, the repair of the Rêveur, the rebuild of the Outward Bound, Alex’s old explorer-tug, and the manufacture of their fighters and missiles.
<So these missiles, Admiral,> Tomas inquired, endeavoring to discover the extent to which the strangers might aid his people, <how do they work?>
<We’ve designed a series of missiles, Ser. A single primary stage is able to launch a variety of second stages. First, we hit the ship with nanites that tested the hull. Then we launched signal buoys to transfer that information to the fighter controllers. A second round of nanites was programmed to weaken the hull. Then a warhead, an explosive, struck the weakened hull and detonated inside the ship.>
<Ingenious, Admiral,> Tomas commented.
<Did you discover the nature of these aliens, Admiral?> Eric asked.
<Unfortunately, the explosion cooked the inhabitants past identification. We know a little about their metal-crystal makeup and that it’s similar to their hulls. But the rest is purely conjecture.>
<But you came to us, didn’t you, Admiral?> Tomas asked. <Was this deliberate?>
<Yes, Leader Monti, we came seeking allies. When Julien discovered the extensive freighter shipments to Libre, we had hoped you were building warships as we had done.>
<Ah, allies,> Tomas said, understanding dawning. Then he drew himself up in his chair and looked Alex squarely in the eye. <We can be that, Admiral Racine,> he said as he extended his hand, no longer afraid of the New Terran’s grip.
<Your help will be appreciated, Tomas. But since you aren’t building warships, just those city-ships, we haven’t made any alternative plans.>
<City-ships?> Eric queried and received from Alex an image of the immense disk-shaped ships under construction at the orbital stations. <Ah, yes, the colony ships for my House and the Independents. They are l
ong-term living and working environments. City-ships … I like this name.>
<So your plan is to evacuate the planet?> Renée asked.
<No, we’re not just evacuating, Ser de Guirnon,> Eric said, <which is what most of our people are doing, fleeing to far colonies and awaiting their fate. We will live on our city-ships and leave Confederation space. We will travel to a new world far from here and these accursed aliens.>
<Can your city-ships hold all of your people, Leader Stroheim?> Tatia asked.
<They were designed with just that goal in mind, Ser Tachenko. No one will be left behind.>
<If I may, Admiral,> sent Julien, requesting an interruption. On Alex’s affirmative, Julien joined the conversation. <My records indicate Bellamonde is ripe for swarming.>
When confusion crossed the Librans’ faces, Alex explained their use of the term swarming to describe the exodus of the alien ships from the planet, comparing them to the evacuation of an insect nest.
<Most perceptive, Admiral,> Tomas said. <Then you’ve studied our monitor ships’ records and seen the aftermath when they rise from the planet?>
<Yes, Ser Monti, the silver ships appear to gather the resources to supply the enormous sphere, what we call the mother ship.>
<So you think you can defeat this mother ship and her swarm, Admiral?> Tomas asked, sounding hopeful.
<We’ve taken the first steps, designing the weapons, testing them, and successfully capturing the first silver ship. What we’ve learned is invaluable. What we need now is a manufacturing base. But, Julien, please return to your questions,> Alex requested.
<I understand you’re new to our ways, Admiral,> Eric interjected, <but it’s unnecessary for you to accommodate your SADE. Simply tell it what you want.> Eric had no sooner sent his thoughts than he froze in place. For some reason, his comments had elicited hostile reactions from the Admiral and his people; facial muscles twitched and eyes glared at him.
The crew’s reaction fascinated Tomas. It was obvious Leader Stroheim had made an egregious error. Although what that error was, Tomas wasn’t sure. Even odder, the Admiral’s Méridiens were just as angry as his New Terrans.
Renée laid a hand on Alex’s shoulder and had to exert much of her arm strength before she penetrated his anger and he subsided. <Leader Stroheim,> she said, entering the fray. <You have made several impolitic statements since coming aboard. As a fellow Leader, I would prefer you leave by your shuttle, with your dignity intact, rather than through an airlock open to space for insulting our allies and friends.>
Eric Stroheim eyed the Rêveur crew, whose anger was still evident. The Admiral’s concept of “warriors” began to dawn on him.
<Furthermore, Leader Stroheim,> Renée continued, <it would be wise of you to forgo your assumptions. The Méridiens you see before you are no longer of your people. Our views have undergone change in concert with these New Terrans, our new brothers and sisters. Our leader is Admiral Racine. And you have just insulted his best friend.>
<His best friend?> Eric’s thought struggled out. <But … it’s a SADE.>
<His best friend, Ser,> Renée reiterated, her own anger rising.
Eric looked around at the ire evident in the faces around him. His own security escorts were confused, unsure of what to do in the midst of such a public display of animosity. Gratefully, Eric heard the Admiral order his people to stand down, and while their poses relaxed, their expressions didn’t.
Tomas attempted to intercede. <Admiral, admittedly your ways are different …> but he was halted in mid-sentence when Alex raised a hand to forestall him without taking his eyes off Leader Stroheim.
The Admiral’s hard, unflinching stare undermined Eric’s confidence, and he sought to redeem himself. <Ser Monti is correct, Admiral. Your ways are strange to us and my assumptions are preventing us from continuing our conversations. If you will forgive me, Admiral, I will attempt to listen and learn your ways.> When the Admiral said nothing but continued to stare at him, Eric searched his words for what he had failed to say. The hostility had begun with his statement about the Rêveur’s SADE. While searching his comm recording for the entity’s name, his implant comm switched to private and he heard, <The name you’re searching for, Ser, is Julien.>
Eric had led a life of privilege and security, especially during his tenure as Leader of House Bergfalk. The news of the alien menace meant action was required, action in the form of readying ships for his House associates in order to flee. But it was an orderly process, and with his extensive House assets, it had been easily achieved. There was no great cause for concern. They were, after all, Méridiens.
Now, for the first time in his life, he felt unsure, ungrounded. It seemed foolish, but the naked animosity directed toward him was unheard of in Méridien society. He glanced to Ser de Guirnon for support, but saw only another hard face. She wore an impatient look, as if she was waiting for a petulant child to grasp the lesson, and Eric Stroheim took the cue. <I’ve insulted your friend, Admiral. For that, I deeply apologize.>
<I wasn’t the injured party, Stroheim,> Alex replied, ignoring the man’s title.
Eric understood this message as well. For the first time in his 136 years, Eric Stroheim, a House Leader, was required to treat a SADE as an equal. <You have my apologies, Julien. It appears you are regarded more highly by your new friends than we regard our own.>
<And that is something you should consider, Leader Stroheim,> Julien replied. <Your apology is accepted. But know this, Ser. Admiral Racine is our leader, but most importantly to me, he is my friend.>
Trying to recover lost ground, Eric attempted to redirect the conversation. <I understand, Julien. You were asking questions of us when I interrupted.> After delivering his apology, Eric discovered his implant comm was switched back to the conference link.
<Yes, Leader Stroheim,> Julien continued, <the aliens swarm within eight to twelve years. They’ve been on Bellamonde for over seven years.> Julien left the question unasked, testing the man.
<We’re quite aware of the time spans, Julien,> Eric said. <For almost two years, we’ve been rotating a House liner every half-year to the Bellamonde system’s outer edge to maintain a watch. Once the aliens swarm, as you say, they should take four to five days before they clear the system. If they come our way, our liner’s warning should give us another five to eight days, depending on Libre’s orbit at the time, to exit the system ahead of them, providing that the enemy decelerates for Libre.>
<According to Cordelia, Leader Stroheim,> Julien said, naming the SADE on one of the city-ships, <your construction schedule requires a minimum of 163 days to make your city-ships FTL ready and an additional sixty-five days to complete the ships’ outfitting.>
<You’re well informed, Julien,> Eric said and waited, but the SADE didn’t respond to his provocation, something he hadn’t expected. He considered the possibilities that this SADE was destined to become an Independent or that the New Terrans’ influence had corrupted him. A thought occurred to Eric, and he decided to test it. <Admiral, assuming Ser de Guirnon has educated you about our society, as you have formed your own House, I would ask how you perceive the Independents.>
Tomas and Lina could scarcely believe what they had just heard. To them, it appeared Leader Stroheim was asking the Admiral to choose sides: House Bergfalk or the Independents.
<The Independents appear to me to be the norm in your society, Leader Stroheim,> Alex said casually.
To Eric’s amazement, the Rêveur’s Méridiens burst out laughing. He found it incredible that they didn’t realize the Admiral had just insulted them.
<Leader Stroheim,> Renée interrupted, <you continue to flirt with our exterior airlocks as if you can’t stand being apart from them. What you’ve failed to grasp, in your limited view of the universe, is that New Terra is full of Independents, every man, woman, and child.>
This time, the laughter came from Tomas and Lina. Their eyes fell on Alex, seeking his affirmation. When Alex nodded to them, they lit
up at the thought of an entire world filled with people dedicated to freedom. <Our rescuers are independents,> Tomas declared. <Ironic, wouldn’t you say, Leader Stroheim?>
<I don’t believe anyone has been rescued yet, Ser Monti,> Alex said, <but that is our intention.>
Both Tomas and Lina couldn’t help the broad smiles they wore as they regarded the Admiral. Except, Lina’s smile, despite Renée’s unstated message, had a very different intent than that of her father.
Eric Stroheim regarded the group carefully, looking from Alex to Renée to Tomas and back again. Realizing that his unfamiliarity with the minds of the Admiral and his crew was compromising his effectiveness, he made a crucial decision. <Ser Tomas, it appears I’m ill-equipped to lead this discussion for us. I’ll defer to you for that purpose, final agreements to be approved between us, of course. In this way, I may be permitted to leave by way of my shuttle,> he said with resignation. When he saw the Rêveur’s crew visibly relax around him, the thought crossed his mind that he may have made his first smart decision since coming aboard.
<Admiral,> said Tomas, taking advantage of the opening Leader Stroheim had provided him, <do you have a plan?>
<I have a tentative one, Ser Monti.>
<How can we be of help, Admiral?> Tomas asked, which garnered him a huge grin from Alex.
<I’m pleased you asked, Ser Monti. We are in need of several things—a manufacturing base to produce our fighters and missiles; an FTL-capable transport for them, a carrier if you will; and we need crew, especially flight crew and pilots.>
Tomas leaned back in his chair and regarded Alex, noticing Leader Stroheim glancing his way several times. <Well, Admiral, let’s see what we can do to help you.>
-4-
At midday, Renée suggested the group break for refreshment and resume their planning afterwards. The meal became a study in contrasts. Eric picked at his food, lost in thought, not daring to communicate through Julien after his earlier slight against the ship’s SADE. Tomas surreptitiously watched the New Terrans, fascinated with the concept of a whole world of independent individuals and what that might mean for his people. Lina alternately regarded the Admiral and Ser de Guirnon. Their closeness told Lina that they were more than associates, and that thought drove her vivid imagination.