[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]“The Baeliwik religion believes that... unless souls are born naturally, they cannot get into heaven. That was the reason for their experiments...” Charlie explained, shocking his apprentice by delving into the details of what would have been known as a cult on Earth. This after Ryan had disclosed his encounter with the archaeologists whom they had just delivered to the twelfth moon of Hei'a. “But their scientific facilities were all shut down by the current administration over twelve years ago. It was deemed immoral to experiment on one humanoid race for the benefit of another. But, the conversation you heard sounds very suspicious to me... I hope I am wrong but I must alert my order-master when we return. He will know how to proceed.”
Ryan just nodded. He had heard of sexual experimentation on Terran abductees but had always considered these people slightly left of center; in more need of psychiatric help than an audience. Now Charlie was telling him that they indeed may have been truthful in their accounts, for a very powerful minority of Dalcachenes had, in an attempt to reverse the reproductive damage to their bodies, conducted experimental mating with Terrans in the past.
“This practice is currently outlawed on all worlds, but was expressly forbidden on the mother world, Earth, before that... maybe five years or so before the widespread ban was enforced. And the practice never produced any tangible success anyway... We Dalcachenes must accept the fact that we are as we are...”
Ryan finally had to ask... it was just too much. “So... no sex...?”
Charlie cast his eyes to the morose look of empathy on the face of his apprentice then replied with a short laugh: “You assume that there was complete eradication of all sensory receptors in the area in question. That would be an error... No, never fear, we do enjoy each other's bodies... some would say even more than before... but that is hard to verify... Rather it is just the reproduction process that is impaired, but I do appreciate...” and here he fell into another short spate of laughter. “Sorry, it is just the absolute sadness that came over your face... I do appreciate your concern for us... Perhaps one day I will introduce you to a sweet Dalq'chette and you will discover the truth first hand.”
Ryan had a shiver run across his spine at that, for there was absolutely nothing attractive about the Dalcachenes in his mind. Truth be known anyway he had lost all interest in sex since his wife passed. Didn't think he'd ever regain it... which was okay with him. Yet, some of his fondest memories of his time with Shell had included that very important component of intimacy. He would hate to know that the Dalcachenes had lost that ability. But now Charlie was droning on about the sexual prowess of their women which Ryan determined to curtail at once...
“Hey... take me through the weapons suite on this bird again, will you?” Anything to get him off that topic...
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]They paused for a close encounter with a hefty asteroid, near the vortex out of the Sedrepfahn System. Ryan was practicing mock battle with the heavy rock, twisting and twirling around it, peppering it with lancing beams from the Saar'floe's weaponry. She had a pair of anti-ship guns of what Charlie described as medium power, a low intensity anti-personnel laser cannon (which had been used for fishing back on Pella'agre), and a single massive strength bombardment cannon that was only suitable for stationary targets. Ryan was using the anti-ship guns now, practicing lining up the asteroid, blasting off jagged chunks of it...
“I must say you are becoming quite adept at combat tactics, my apprentice,” Charlie beamed, “well ahead of expectations... far beyond any of my previous apprentices.”
“So,” Ryan rejoined, never letting up on his twist-turn-attack sequence, “exactly how many of us have there been?”
“Apprentices...? Oh, you are number five.”
“Any others from Earth?”
“Oh yes... all of them except my first... she was a lovely Dalq'chette.” Charlie's voiced trailed off strangely. Ryan looked at him sideways but declined to pursue that one. It appeared to be of a personal nature.
“Why do you prefer Terrans?” He said, changing the subject.
“What...? Oh, because of your adaptability, your sense of adventure... your stout constitutions. Earth is still the best producer of the Humanoid species, you know... We have a saying on Dalca'odge in that regard: the mother always produces the finest offspring!”
“Hmmm... yes, I suppose that logic is indisputable.” He wondered what it might be like, for the first time, to be a Dalcachene or even a Pella'agrene for that matter. Although Ryan found it hard to believe that he was superior in any way to those splendid figures he had lived with for a week not so long ago. (He was thinking of Aerose's people of course, whom he still thought of vaguely as his people.) But the Dalcachenes were so diminutive and slight of frame and... well... just down-right deformed in appearance. Then he reflected on it and, as he blasted another slab of rock from the celestial boulder, blasted himself for being unfairly prejudiced in his thinking. Notwithstanding his current obligatory status as an indentured servant, these people had treated him exceedingly well... Certainly at least as well or better than holders of slaves back on Earth had ever treated their human property... or even employees in the case of some companies. Then he thought of the sexual experimentation some of the Dalcachenes had performed on humans in the past... Hmmm... every race has its bad apples, he supposed.
“Very nicely executed,” his boss said. “I should allow you to do the fighting at the next opportunity, I believe. For it is obvious that you have quite a pension for it!”
“Thanks... I am really getting a kick out of it... never imagined I would... but, hell, never imagined anything that has happened to me lately!”
“Indeed, but you are remarkably adaptable to it.” And with that Charlie stated that the lesson must be concluded, that they must be on their way. Ryan relinquished the controls and sat back, enjoying the stars, as the adrenaline slowly simmered in his veins...
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Ryan had never liked getting dolled up in dress uniform. His favorite duds in the U.S.N. had been his dungarees and boon-dockers. He did however appreciate the sense of tradition that a pair of crackerjack dress blues denoted. But this was a little ridiculous!
Charlie had informed him upon landing that he was to be inducted into the Starflyer Order of Exeonas as a Layman Starflyer. It was his first step on the long road toward gaining master status himself and thus his freedom. He liked the sound of that but the pomp and ceremony seemed rather formal and unnecessary to Ryan. But... he realized it was probability just his lumberjack upbringing in the Cascade foothills speaking. Still... he looked down at the strange garb he was decked out in... this was a little ridiculous!
First had come the body-sock, for lack of a more descriptive word. It was a one-piece white elastic jumpsuit that covered him skin-tight from neck to ankles to wrists, and it felt like it was a size too damn small, especially around the crotch! Over that was thrown a rough-knit black blanket, laying across his left shoulder, the tag ends running diagonally in front and behind to his right hip. There it was pinned with a decorative silver shield of about two-and-a-half inch diameter.
Over all this, an intricate silver cord ran horizontally across his chest, knotting just above his left nipple, the tag ends falling to his waist. Even his head was not spared from the indignity of the masquerade. A plain silver skull-cap perched there. He purposefully declined to look at himself in a mirror; his stomach was not that strong.
It wasn't necessary though, as Charlie was dressed identically... except that he had a few more do-dahs here and there. He was wearing three cords to Ryan's one and his skull cap had a pair of white feathers dangling over either ear. Both wore plain black knee-high boots.
Now they entered the small, open-air flier that Charlie used when on-planet, and headed toward a very large tower on the horizon. According to the master it was the headquarters of his order. Ryan hoped to hell this was not some elaborate practical joke or initiation rite... Oh, he was a shellback, having stood tall before Neptune after crossing the equator back on the oceans of Mother Earth. Accordingly he would not be in the least surprised if these alien folk had similar rites of passage... Guess we'll find out, he thought as Charlie landed in one of the large hanger bays of the order tower.
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Ryan didn't know what to expect at the ceremony, but it had been fairly short and to the point. And so he was now an official member of Charlie's order. He took it in stride, supposed it was an honor to be inducted as an Exeonas but sort of shrugged it off if any of this had been of his own choosing he might have felt differently about it. Be that as it may, he truly did feel honored to be included in the meeting with the order-master after the event. (He fully expected to have to wait in the car!) But Charlie insisted that he be included. And now the master led off by detailing the events that had precipitated the meeting, his concerns about the potential illegal activity of the Baeliwiks.
The order-master listened impassively. After Charlie had finished he drew in a deep breath and spoke. Yes... yes... this is a plausible response to the official outlawing of their experiments... The Baeliwiks... he shook his head sadly. The government is supposed to be watching them for this type of activity... He paused for a moment and then went on. Let me check with a few of my contacts I have therein and I will let you know what I find out, Master Erzo'acteru... I take it you assume these archaeologists to be of that religious sect?
I don't think there is enough evidence of it, sir. I do think it warrants an investigation.
Yes... I concur... and as the officer-of-discovery that would place you in charge. To this Charlie nodded solemnly.
After the meeting he revealed the nature of the order to which Ryan had become attached. Starflyers were duly licensed professionals with the right to legally operate amongst the star systems that made up federation space. Their functions were multitudinous, varying from simple traders to bounty hunters to transports and beyond; basically any business that anyone had amongst the stars had to involve a starflyer. And each was required, before gaining master starflyer status, to join one of the existing orders. His allegiance was primarily to that order and while all were expected to abide by federation law they did diverge from each other in real and very meaningful ways.
The Exeonasii for instance were true jacks-of-all-trades, leaving their individual masters to choose their own paths without much hindrance provided that path was legal. They were accepting of all humanoid races, allowing Charlie for instance to choose Terrans as his apprentices. Other orders operated in different ways, focusing on different aspects of the occupation, and their particular racial make-up also tended to vary. But they were all bound by the law of the Federation stringently. And each was empowered to investigate any breach of those laws that they discovered outside the jurisdiction of civil planetary or naval authorities, regardless of who the perpetrator was. This is why Charlie had reported his suspicions to his order-master rather than the civil authorities on Dalca'odge. Space is immense, much too large for the civil authorities of a planet to handle. And the naval forces of the Federation, massive as they were, did not have enough ships to cover all of federation space. Their warships were involved in areas they could not afford to abandon simply to hunt down clues in an investigation. No, it would fall to the starflyer order that had discovered the initial thread of evidence to track it down. It was their responsibility. And that meant that Charlie and Ryan had just become interstellar sleuths!
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Information was made immediately available; the Baeliwiks were idle to all outward appearances, which only meant that no-one had caught them in the act of doing anything illegal. Charlie was unimpressed, thought it would be a good idea to back-track a little, go to the source of the last mission. That was an agent for an obscure organization going by the innocuous name of The Society of Off-world Archaeological Research. This organization, while in the records, was quite unremarkable. The agent in question had popped up out of thin air. The starflyer had never heard of him before. He was not a native of Dalca'odge but rather hailed from a colony located several systems center-ward, i.e., toward the center of the galaxy relative to the location of Dalca'odge. He had returned there after some extended business on Dalca'odge.
“So...” Charlie was mulling over their options verbally, batting thoughts around while his apprentice leaned against the side of the ship, watching him install a new sensory node on the port side. “It looks like we need to make a trip to Faerdiste'a to talk to this fellow... find out who was really behind hiring us to take the archaeologists to Hei'a-12.”
“Why not just go back there instead... corner the archaeologists themselves... make them tell us what we need to know?” Ryan offered.
“Won't work. If they refuse to confess we will have no recourse... we don't have any evidence on which to arrest them. We need to get some information before we confront them. In any case I doubt this will be a short affair...”
“What makes you say that?”
“Experience... I have done several of these investigations before.”
“Ah... good to know I am with an old hand at it. So when do we leave...?”
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]You will report to order headquarters immediately... It was Order-master Da'aris over the wall unit.
After completing their work in upgrading the sensory suite of Saar'floe, Charlie and Ryan had retired to the main study of his tower to relax and rest up for the early morning take-off. Their evening had been interrupted by the incoming call.
May I ask to what this emergency pertains?
Alleged illegal contact with the indigenous population of Pella'agre. The austere visage of the wizened commander faded, returning to the scenic seascape of a far-off ocean world, the stark contrast deepening the emotional impact of the moment. Charlie looked at Ryan with plain disapproval written on his face, which was almost immediately supplanted by an entirely different facial tone.
Ryan was confused. The starflyer being disappointed in his apprentice was understandable. This other telegraphed emotion was unless Ryan was mistaken suspicion. What is it, boss...?
Well... I did not include your incident with the locals in my report. You never told anyone about it either... So... how did they find out?
Hmmm... maybe the ship that fired at us leaked it somehow...?
Leaked it...? Oh... no... no... they could not have... I found the wreckage, there was no sign of life aboard.
Then who else could it be?
I know not, my apprentice... but this smells badly even into the afterlife, as you Terrans say...
I... think you mean it stinks to high heaven.
Indeed, he agreed absently. Let us be off to the headquarters tower... quickly... we must resolve this matter!
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]“Might I entreat you on a matter of particular import?”
The older Dalcachene looked at his subordinate, nodded ever so slightly.
“Who is my accuser in this incident?”
“It is covered by Stipulation 20/24 of the Interstellar Sanctions Act.” This was a double edged sword. It meant that the accuser was in fear of his life, and so was not required to reveal his identity. It also meant that, unless other corroborating evidence could be established, it could not be counted as such either. That put the ball solidly in Charlie's court, as was evident in the order-master's eyes. “So, what say you, Master Erzo'acteru...? Do you deny the allegations?”
Ryan stood to the side, watching intently. He certainly pitied his boss the position he was in, felt a pang of guilt for putting him there. This was one of those classical moral dilemmas. Damned if you do, damned if you don't! For his part, Ryan was silently praying that he would not be personally called upon to give an accounting of what had happened. What he really wanted to do – above all else – was to wave his hand at the wall behind him and, acting as one of the chairs back on Saar'floe, become part of the wall!
“Sir, with due respect, I cannot answer these questions without knowledge of my accuser. There is reason to believe there is a connection here to an ongoing investigation which I am conducting.”
That got his attention, Ryan noticed. Master Da'aris' back straightened and his large saucer eyes narrowed. “Is this your official response?” he finally asked in a terse, unfriendly tone. It seemed obvious to Ryan that he viewed this as somewhat of an admission of guilt, an attempt to cover-up wrong-doing of his own.
“It is, sir,” Charlie stated unequivocally and without the slightest hesitation. Ha... how about that...? the old fellow had grit... Ryan was proud of him, found himself liking the old guy ever more the more he got to know him.
With that the official leader of the Exeonasii let out a strange sound that reminded Ryan of an angry sheep, turned and doddered off. By his demeanor it was obvious Ryan was the only one impressed with Charlie's performance. But the good news was that apparently the hearing was concluded.
Charlie looked at his apprentice sideways, rolled his eyes and let out an explosive breath. “Now, we had better find something on this case quickly, or my stored body energy with be put to the flame for certain!”
Ryan paused, wrinkled a brow and thought about that last phrase for a moment. Now that didn't come out quite right, did it...? “Oh, wait... I think you mean: your fat will be in the fire!”
“Just so... now let us be off... quickly!” and the master led him out of the audience chamber. Ryan followed, making a mental note to give him a lesson on Terran sayings, the proper use thereof, at the earliest possible convenience.
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]They got back to Charlie's tower and went directly to Saar'floe. They were rushing so much that Ryan began to feel like a bank robber trying to get away before the cops arrived on the scene. They went through the take-off sequence and then Charlie took her out of the hanger bay, the entrance closing as she cleared it. Up ahead Ryan could see three unusual skycraft moving in their direction, noisy alarms sounding.
Charlie spun the ship in a tight semi-circle and pitched her nose upward at a sharp rake. He hit the gas. Saar'floe screamed off through the hazy skies, dove into the cloud bank and kept going.
Ryan looked at him sideways. “Was that the police back there?”
“It was,” Charlie affirmed without looking at him.
“Were... they... coming for us?”
“I do not know, my apprentice. And did not wish to query them concerning the matter.”
“So... does this mean we can't come back here...?”
“It would be best to come back only after we solve the riddle of this investigation, I believe.” He looked at his apprentice and winked. “Just to be safe.” He leveled out the ship now, making Ryan arch an eyebrow, and rode laterally through the clouds for several long moments. Up ahead Ryan could see eerie flashes of lightning. “Web up,” Charlie ordered and Ryan noticed he was doing that very thing himself. Suddenly the ship began to exhibit all the traits of a bucking bronco as they got closer to the flashing light show. Ryan did as instructed, covering himself in the sticky webbing. Now he knew what they were doing, heading into one of the polar magnetic zones.
“Want to tell me what's going on...?” he asked.
“I want to make a clandestine exit from this planet. The best way to do that is over one of the poles.”
“Aren't they expecting that?”
“Perhaps... but no sensory suite available can cut through the noise created there. By the time they know we are off-planet we will be far ahead of any pursuit vessel.”
“Why would they be following us?”
Charlie shrugged. “I don't know that they are... but someone in the government is acting as an inhibitor to our investigation... this I feel certain of... and I do not wish to leave anything to chance.”
“But...” Ryan was still somewhat confused by these tactics, “won't we look suspicious... exiting like outlaws?”
“Yes... assuming anyone tracking us can cut clearly through the clutter caused by the magnetic field. But they can't. When we begin to come out of it, we will appear as an intermittent contact on their sensors, jumping all over the place, and then firm up once we are away from the grip of Dalca'odge's magnetic field. At that point I will make a sharp course change. That should leave just enough doubt in anyone's mind... Besides there is a sharp division in jurisdictions. We will be in federation naval jurisdiction as soon as we leave the atmosphere. They are different and quite distinct from the planetary government of Dalca'odge. Any ship that is awaiting us after leaving the planet will be Federation Navy. They may stop us, question us, check our credentials... but then they will allow us to proceed,” Charlie stated succinctly, then added in a bare whisper, “I hope...”
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]“The Ca'elipbar System is through that vortex. You will find a gas giant nearby, according to my star charts. Deploy the hydrogen scoop and fill up our fuel tanks. I must rest. I will relieve you in six hours.” With that the starflyer turned and left.
They had traversed three systems en route to an unknown destination (unknown to Ryan anyway). But if he could read these star charts – and he could! – they were not heading toward Faerdiste'a, the home world of the mysterious agent they were after, at all. So naturally Ryan had asked where they were headed and thus was given the aforementioned instructions.
Oh well... he had performed the particular maneuver needed to refuel several times before. There was nothing especially hazardous about it, just skim down into the thermosphere of the planet with the scoop activated. Saar'floe would do the rest.
Ryan traversed the vortex without mishap, found the planet in question and set the ship system to compute the course. Soon they were on their way. He kicked back and gazed out the window at this fantastic new star system. He had already seen a dozen or so by this time, was still amazed at how different each was, how unique from any other.
At the gravitational center of the Ca'elipbar System was a large blue star with a massive undulating corona, almost pulsar-like. It dominated the system in a way old Sol back home never could have, for it was huge! Yet, it was somehow not near as bright.
Now his attention went to Coerndite, their destination. Having gradually grown from a distant point of light, its face was finally discernible and totally dissimilar from any planet he had ever before seen. Iridescent hues alternately blended and separated across it, forming a mesmerizing kaleidescope.
Now he could make out its family of satellites, a veritable cloud of moons, some – Ryan speculated – many times larger than Earth. They began to claim his total fascination as the planetary system came closer and closer. How many moons were there? He stopped counting at eighty-eight... and those were just the larger ones! Jupiter had nothing on Coerndite!
Suddenly a flashing light on the bridge console caught his eye. Let's see... what was that symbol...? Hostile contact! Right! Ryan sat up straight and gripped the sides of the console in either fist, began maneuvering the ship. He put it in a series of sweeping turns, trying to allow the sensors the opportunity to divine who it was that was zeroing in on Saar'floe. Suddenly crimson beams began tracing paths through the velvety aether before him and he knew what that meant. They were being shot at! Mystery solved and the rules be damned! If he was being shot at, he was shooting back!
Ryan threw the ship into a tight turn then suddenly flipped her over and reversed directions – his version of an Immelmann. The enemy ship tried to copy the maneuver but overshot his adversary. This, of course, was what Ryan had intended. He quickly pulled up over the target, loosing his deadly barrage of plasma beams as he did so. They fell across the stern of his foe, kicking up blue current where they made contact with their target. The enemy ship faltered a split-second, slipped sideways through space then twisted the opposite direction, apparently attempting to outmaneuver him. But his jousting with space rocks was paying off. He followed the other ship around, careful not to lose it in the turn, and fired off another salvo. This time his beams burned several holes in its aft section. It stopped maneuvering and, tilted at an odd angle, continued at a high velocity toward the gas giant looming nearby.
Ryan activated the tractor beam, played it across the dead vessel and took it in tow. It was at that moment that Charlie came on the bridge...
[font=Lucida Sans Unicode]“What are you doing...?” Charlie was quite beside himself with anger. This was an emotion that Ryan was surprised to see displayed in the master. He didn't know the guy was capable of losing his cool. “Did you identify that ship before you opened fire?”
“No but... he... was shooting at me...!”
Charlie strode purposefully up to the bridge console and scanned the instruments there. “Good... he's alive.” He turned to Ryan, still obviously upset. “I instructed you differently... Always identify a contact before you shoot... always... even apparently hostile ones. Now I must go aboard that stricken vessel and retrieve the pilot.”
“Okay... alright... but... what the hell...? Why are you so mad at me? He fired at me first! I saved our ass...!”
“It was a game, Ryan... a very stupid, very deadly game... unfortunately I could never quite make him understand how very stupid and very deadly a game it was... As you are well aware, my Terran apprentices only follow my instructions to the extent that they wish to...”
“Your Terran apprentices...?”
“Quang Liu is in that ship. He was my second apprentice. Now maintain course and speed here while I go and get him.”
“Uh... alright... sorry...”
Charlie shot him a parting look of sad disapproval, turned and left. Ryan breathed in a ragged breath. So far, in acting on his own, he was 'O' for two... not very respectable stats...