All That Bedevils Us, page 30
“Just in case,” Costa said. It was a legitimate point, so he conceded it. “Yes.”
“This one sought personal revenge, at the risk of the peace of the Correlation,” the Voice said, waving a sinuous arm back toward the prisoner. “That is unacceptable to the Murolish. T’lack innocent of crimes were killed.”
Costa nodded and said, “One of those lost was a close friend.”
“One of the T’lack,” the Murolish replied. “This is known to us. It should not have happened. Concordance T’lack are exempt now from reduction and containment. The life of the one behind me is yours to take. Justice must be served.” The creature held one hand out to the side, and one of the guards handed over its weapon. The weapon was then passed to Costa.
He took it with reluctance, and with an effort didn’t take a step forward to alter his balance against the weight of the thing. He felt something strain in his back and shoulders, and briefly regretted the time he had failed to spend in the gym. But his sense for the Murolish by then was that showing weakness would be unwise. He hefted the thing, and from its considerable weight gained an idea of the strength of a Murolish. They didn’t look like lightweights, and now he knew that appearances were anything but deceptive. He looked at the thing, saw what seemed to be the triggering mechanism, then looked past the Voice to the prisoner.
“No,” Costa said, holding the staff weapon out to the Voice. “There has been enough death in this star system already.”
“It is justice,” the Voice said, nothing of vexation, or worse, coming through the translation system. “By Murolish law this one must die.”
“I will not dispute your laws,” Costa replied. He rested the butt of the weapon on the ground. “If you kill her, that's up to you. But I am not Murolish. This is not my way. And the friend I lost here would not approve. In his honor, his memory, I must decline.”
“It is the way,” the Voice insisted.
“The Murolish way,” Costa replied. “Not mine. And not the way of the Philic T’lack.”
“Murolish justice,” said the Voice, taking the weapon back from him, and Costa was glad to be rid of the weight. The Voice turned and walked back to the other Murolish. The prisoner looked up and watched her leader approach, then convulsed as the Voice stabbed her and unleashed a bolt of blue-white fire into her body. The prisoner collapsed to the floor as if her bones had liquefied. The Murolish leader handed the weapon back to the one who had originally carried it, then turned to face the members of the Grand Concordance.
“Justice,” was all it said.
Costa stood frozen for just a moment, then turned without a word and took two steps toward the others. And stopped in his tracks. They were all staring at him, waiting for the reaction he tried desperately not to show. What do they expect of me? he wondered. Should I raise my voice in outrage and protest a needless death I couldn’t have prevented? Will they think I am hiding behind expediency? After all, the four-legged bastards are finally talking to us.
“Their laws, people,” he said quietly, though he was sure all would hear. “I don’t like it either. But we are not here to judge these people and their ways, disturbing as they might be.”
~35~
In a matter of days the Murolish were working with the Grand Concordance Expeditionary Force and their fellow Correlation species as if there had never been any doubt they would come on board. Costa tried to keep track of the political turmoil within Murolish space, but the Murolish he met refused to speak of the matter. Those in Eff Nia star system were loyal to the new Voice, and considered the matter closed. They joined the effort to clean up the dangerous debris left by the attack of the dissident Murolish. The dead were recovered and their remains dealt with according to the various customs of the species involved. The T’lack, being a pragmatic people, had their dead added to the recycling facilities of the three Correlation star stations. The symbolism of their collective substance becoming a part of the Correlation was lost on no one, and even the Murolish honored the gesture.
The personnel of the GCEF gathered in various ways to memorialize and honor those they had lost. Costa called a meeting of his staff and, in the usual conference room aboard Loknata, they raised glasses in silent tribute. It all seemed so horribly inadequate. It was what they could do.
For a few nights the nightmare came back to him, sometimes in its original form, sometimes crossed up with the destruction of the Poptokul. Costa would awaken with a jolt, sweating, then slowly go back to sleep while Dorgnas held him and whispered words he needed to hear.
It was quickly agreed that the Correlation fleet, led by the Murolish, should continue their military campaign to eject the Phobic T’lack from conquered territory. The best estimate had them taking a little over a year to do so; Costa was surprised by how many Radial star systems had fallen, and how quickly. It was clear then that the Correlation had been taken by surprise by the invasion. The delay was anything but distressing, since it bought Costa’s crew time to resolve problems that were already cropping up as they worked out the design of their bioweapon.
GCEF scientists and engineers were summoned to the Correlation star stations and given a primer in Radial physics. The information regarding gravity generation was already in the swap, but the Radials and their allies wanted to use the learning experience to clarify details and better understand how the minds of their new friends worked. This explanation came from Dorgnas. Costa agreed without reservation, and even attended some of the basic lectures. His physics was rusty, at best, but he came away with enough to understand that meeting the folk of the Correlation would change just about everything.
“Gaia!” someone behind him whispered after the first of the primers offered by the Correlation. “Mother of Life itself!”
Costa turned and saw a member of the Commonwealth science team, a physicist he thought, staring ahead with wide, dark eyes. Aware of his attention, she blinked and greeted him, looking sheepish about her outburst. “This stuff puts us in a higher orbit, doesn’t it?” Costa observed, trying to smile and set her at her ease.
“Oh, yes!” she replied, eyes bright. “I mean, we would have figured this out eventually, and some of the work I’ve seen regarding the cheat drive does point in this direction, but we might have groped for decades before we made the breakthrough. This changes — this will change…”
“Everything?” Costa offered.
“Habitat design and construction, nodal transitions, stellar navigation…” she trailed off, grinning, eyes bright with excitement. “Gaia, yes, just about everything that matters!”
Even without the lectures added to his schedule, Costa found himself busier than he had been since they arrived. This suited him, as it meant that during the day watch at least he had plenty to think about other than the death of a friend. Much of his time was spent putting together the contingent of GCEF staff that would accompany the Correlation embassy back to Patkattat star system. With them would go Costa’s suggestion that the Caroline Herschel’s drive system be upgraded by Correlation technology, with the goal of bringing the embassy 0f the Grand Concordance to the Correlation. Costa couldn’t guess how long it would take to upgrade the probeship’s drives, but according to Rory the Correlationists were unconcerned about the matter.
“One of their options is to send enough ships over to envelop the Herschel in their matrix fields and just haul it over here,” Rory told him.
“You’re joking,” Costa said.
“They moved the first of these stations to Eff Nia star system that way,” Rory replied with a shrug.
“Damn!”
In a month the Correlation fleet had secured both Folorsula star system and the region around it, making it safe to move the GCEF base of operations back there and within range of the Grand Concordance using Correlation methods. The Correlation formally accepted the name Folorsula in honor of the Nesvama warship Canatolos, lost with all hands in defense of Eff Nia star system. Folorsula would become the interface between the Grand Concordance and the Correlation until such time as the threat from the Phobic T’lack had been dealt with. The battered GCEF fleet moved into formation between two mid-sized Radial dome ships, and an instant later was in Folorsula. When Costa set about deployment of the facilities to develop local resources and begin contraction of a star station to replace Loknata, he was told not to bother.
The next day, the entire Eff Nia Ti star station appeared at the node, bracketed by five Radial ships, each half the size of the station itself.
“We have made space available in the station,” said Mab when she arrived with the station. “It and the facilities it holds are at your disposal. Please feel free to avail yourself of it.”
Costa managed to catch his breath and thanked her, said they would do so, and then when the channel was closed turned to Rory and said, “Damn!”
A T’lack message drone, already just capable of bridging the gap, was upgraded by the Correlation to insure a generous margin for error, then filled with data and messages and sent on its way to the Grand Concordance. Included were instructions for those on the other end to use the same drone for their reply. The drone returned in a day, filled with messages of congratulations and the request that the Correlation make best possible speed and to be assured of a warm welcome.
Other messages were aboard the drone as well.
Late in the day during which the drone returned to Folorsula star system, Dorgnas came to Costa in such a state of distress — she literally hurled herself into his arms with a cry — he could do nothing except hold her until she finally subsided in gasping sobs. He held her without speaking until her strength seemed to run out, and at last he heard a few clear words in Rusalas, spoken so softly the translator didn’t pick them up. He didn’t know enough of her language to understand, and whispered as much as he gently stroked the side of her face. She became quieter when he spoke, and then finally looked up into his face without quite leaving the circle of his arms. Her eyes were pinched in as if she were in pain, and the normal yellow coloring of her face was flushed to the color of honey. On Dorgnas it did not look healthy.
“I am to be ostracized,” she whispered. The word she used actually sounded like pesdisnosnis and had a venomous quality the translation overlay could not quite cover up. Costa couldn’t help thinking the program had selected a close fit for a word that did not exist in the standard language. It was clearly not a good thing. “The Rusalas Councils have declared interspecies liaisons unnatural and therefore against Rusalas law.”
Liaisons. Funny how the system could nail that one. “That’s just wrong. What is the matter with them?”
“What is wrong with anyone who thinks such a thing?” she asked in turn. “It would seem we are one of several such couples. One involves a Leyra’an woman. The families of some of the Rusalas involved are from politically powerful families. They — pushed.”
“And the Councils told them what they wanted to hear,” Costa guessed.
“Yes.” Her eyes seemed to sag. “It is deemed unnatural and therefore unlawful.” Dorgnas made a small, choking sound as she fought to hold her composure. “Our names were prominent in the discussion. We were the first example. My family sent word that they will abide by this judgment. That they are ashamed of me, and will have no more…” She stopped, choking back a cry. “Jan… I have been ordered to return. If I do not comply, the judgment against me will be for life.”
“Then you need to go back,” Costa said. “I can see that. Try to reason with them.”
“You do not know what you ask,” she said. “We are too few. The war with the Faceless left too few of us. That I would seem to waste myself this way is seen by my kin as sheer selfishness.”
“Waste? Selfishness?” Costa snapped. “Is that all you’re good for to them? To make more Rusalas?”
“I always intended to,” she replied. “Have children, I mean. But with the Commonwealth offering artificial wombs, I assumed — but apparently the Commonwealth med tech will only be authorized for those who cannot, for some reason, have children.”
“You mean — couples like us?”
Her eyes shifted up and widened, the blue flashing in the room light. “Oh! I should have thought of that. Their objection on such grounds would be moot!”
“Exactly,” Costa said. “I would not be the biological father, but there are ways around that, I’m sure, especially with Sarah’s people involved.”
“You would permit that?”
“Permit?” Costa’s eyebrows did a credible imitation of a Rusalas expression of surprise. “The hell — you don’t need my permission! If you want children and there’s a way we can manage it, then we will do so.”
“Jan…”
“You need to go back,” Costa repeated. “You need to go there and promote that idea. For the sake of the other couples, if not just for us. You need to be there for your family, to make them, at least, understand what this means for you.”
“Without you?” She seemed startled.
“I can’t leave,” he replied. “Not quite yet. When the GC decides how to manage things out here, I’ll resign and join you. Between now and then, you need to reconnect with your family. Mend fences, as my people would say. When that’s been done, I can join you and maybe the foundation you build will be enough that they’ll give me a chance.”
“You would resign your position here?”
“I never intended to make a life of this sort of thing, love. I came into this because I needed a way out of the mess I was in. And I wanted to help a good friend save his people.” Costa pulled her back to him, and Dorgnas didn’t resist. “The plan we have set in motion will either work or at least buy enough time to come up with a better plan. Either way, Takak will have succeeded at last in his mission, even though he’s not here to see it. Once it’s in motion, I don’t need to be here. I believe that.”
“But what will you do — after ?”
“What will we do?” he corrected, and felt her head nod against his shoulder. “First, we’ll set an example for the Rusalas Councils, make them see that the choice we’ve made harms no one. That it can benefit both of our species. After that, well, something will come up. It always does.”
“You make it sound so easy,” she said. “But it will be nothing of the sort. It will take time. There will be — hardships.”
“Well, I’ll just have to break down and finally do that Commonwealth nanomed thing, won’t I?”
“You should,” she said, and her eyes managed to smile just a little. “What sort of example would we set if I outlived you? People might think you’d grown tired of me and given up.”
“Certainly can’t have that.”
Neither of them spoke for a time. Her eyes lowered and shifted inward, the look of a Rusalas plagued by doubt. “I wonder if I am strong enough?” she whispered at last. “To challenge the Councils and my own family’s beliefs will be very difficult.”
“Contact others in our situation, first,” he suggested. “Then you won’t stand alone. Be gentle about it. Be persuasive rather than confrontational.” He kissed the top of her head. “You can do this. And when I’m free of my last obligations here, I’ll be there to help. No matter what happens, you’ll have me.”
In answer, she only held him tighter.
The next day he held several meetings with working groups from his mission. At the end of the last one, Rory lingered when the rest of his committee departed. Costa produced two glasses and a bottle of what he’d taken to referring to as the real thing, and the two of them raised those glasses to an absent friend.
“I still can’t believe that happened,” Rory said after taking a drink. “Have you spoken to Lektat recently?”
Costa took a sip and shook his head as he swallowed. “Not since our face-to-face with the Voice. Have you?”
“Briefly,” Rory replied. “Expressed disappointment that her ‘association’ with Takak had ended prematurely. You know, I think one of those big differences between us and the T’lack may be the way they handle loss and grief. If they feel something analogous to what we call grief, I can’t see it.”
“Maybe it’s just how they express it,” Costa suggested. “Takak and Lektat obviously shared some sort of bond, but I never saw anything that remotely suggested affection, much less love. Not as Humans might recognize it.”
“It never gets less complicated, does it?”
“Tell me about it,” and after taking a healthy swallow of whisky, Costa gave his friend an account of Dorgnas’ predicament.
“Feckin hell, boss,” said Rory, his tone eloquent of outrage.
“My sentiments exactly.” Costa finished his drink, and set the glass aside when Rory waved off a refill. “I’ve been wondering where I’d go from here. Looks like I’ll be helping Dorgnas change the thinking of an entire species.”
“Getting old for you, boss?” Rory asked with his usual smirk.
“Maybe a little,” Costa replied. “Anyway, you and Sarah sound like you mean to set up shop here permanently.”
“Whatever that means for people who don’t grow old,” and Rory laughed. He sobered, and Costa saw a look of amazement on his friend’s face. “But yes, we’re going to be here for the foreseeable future. Boss, she’s talking about having children after the Herschel is here and established.”
“Ha! I wonder how you’ll do as a father figure.”
“Looks like I’ll be finding out. And I don’t think I have much choice in the matter.”
“No, you probably don’t,” Costa replied. He laughed at the look on Rory’s face. “Oh, hell, you’ll do fine! I don’t doubt that for a moment.”
Rory’s expression changed to a rueful grimace. “That makes one of us,” he said.
~36~
The fleet that gathered for the transit back to Patkattat star system was composed of only a few ships, but was an impressive total mass. The ship of the actual embassy was the same Radial ship that had been involved with their initial contact. It was also, Costa learned, one of the ships he had helped rescue during their intervention on behalf of Correlation refugees fleeing the Phobic T’lack. In size it approached the mass of a probeship from the Commonwealth. With it would go escorts of Freen and Murolish warships, two of each. Joining the escort were the Nesvama cruiser Estalabas and the RDF André Marquis, the only ships in the GCEF fully repaired by then. Banetisib, with her mate and daughter, were aboard the Estalabas, having resigned with apologies. The shock of seeing so many of her people die had been too much, causing her to have a form of emotional breakdown.
