Impulse (19 page)

“I am Captain Salibi,” he stated. “This interrogation is now my responsibility. Whether you live or whether you die may now depend on your answers to my questions. I suggest you hold nothing back and tell me the truth.” I found this odd, as their initial questions had to do with our mission, and I assumed that each of us had answered truthfully already. If the interrogators had conferred at all then Captain Salibi must know our situation was as we stated. Although I was nervous, I didn't take the captain's threat of death seriously. He just didn't seem the type.

Salibi sat down at a table facing us, his attaché standing respectfully behind him, a plasma in his hand that I assumed was for notes. “Captain Kierkopf,” he started. “Please recount to me how your ship came to be in the Levant star system.”

“I've already told your questioners this five times,” said the captain evenly. Salibi smiled thinly and with a bit of menace.

“Nonetheless, please indulge me,” he replied.

“We came here in our vessel, the Union Lightship
Impulse
, on a mission of contact and friendship to Levant,” she said. “And then—”

“And then you encountered our gatekeepers,” said Salibi, interrupting her.

“I don't understand what you mean.”

“The Imperial weapons,” he said, offering nothing more. The captain looked nonplussed, then continued.

“We encountered those weapons once before, on our first foray into your space,” she said.

“Yes, I know. We watched with interest. Even more so when we saw you were not destroyed, and that you came back,” said Salibi.

“Of course we came back. As I said, we are on a mission of peaceful contact.”

“That has yet to be determined,” said Salibi. At this, the attaché leaned in and whispered something to Salibi. I began to wonder if some hidden observer was asking the questions through the attaché. “When you again ran afoul of the gatekeepers, your ship left you for dead and proceeded into our home space,” he continued.

“That was a rogue Historian, Tralfane. He took control of our vessel and brought it here, to your world,” said Dobrina.

“Not to our world, but to Tyre,” he corrected, meaning the moon with the HD cannon. “Where your vessel activated a device that is more a legend on our world than anything we believed could exist in our system, then vanished. And then we see your tiny vessel approaching, landing on Tyre, attempting, no doubt, to repeat the same action: activating an Imperial gateway.”

“We were trying to rescue our vessel, as I stated already,” said Dobrina. Salibi looked away from her to Serosian.

“And you, sir, you have no rank uniform, and say your name is Serosian, a Historian from Earth, of all places. Speaking of legends.”

“It is no legend,” said Serosian, “I assure you.”

“Your captain here—”

“She is not my captain,” said Serosian, interrupting. “My ship is from another vessel, like the first one. Which should, incidentally, be arriving here soon.”

Salibi eyed Serosian with annoyance. The attaché leaned in again. I could see a small earpiece in his left ear.

“Tell me what an Earth Historian does aboard one of these ships,” asked Salibi.

“I monitor, record, and transmit all our mission logs to Earth to store the data. I monitor ship's systems, make sure they are in optimal condition,” said Serosian.

“And?”

“Engage in First Contact missions, like this one, to establish friendly relations between emerging worlds and the Union.”

Salibi shifted in his chair. “Tell me about this Union.”

I sensed Serosian tense ever so slightly next to me. Nonetheless, he was ready with an answer. “The Union was established by treaty a decade ago between Carinthia, Quantar, and Earth as an exchange of culture, technology, and trade. The goal is to establish a peaceful and democratic interstellar government as a balance to any remnants of the old empire and its corrupt government. By choosing two well-established worlds on the verge of acquiring interstellar capability again as the core of our Union, we hoped to promote cooperation, as each world was on opposite sides during the Imperial Civil War. And as Captain Kierkopf stated, we came here hoping to explore the possibility of inviting Levant into the Union as well,” he said.

“So you claim you are not Imperial agents?” Salibi asked. I sensed this was the key question, but which side would the Levantines come down on?

“We are not,” said Serosian.

“But you came here seeking to use Imperial technology.”

“Which we failed at, whereas our enemy succeeded. That alone should be evidence enough of our intentions,” interjected the captain.

“But we have only your word to go on. This Historian has locked out your ship's computers. We can't break the code, which would verify your story. Perhaps you are agents of the empire and your other vessel was attempting escape,” said Salibi.

“We aren't from the empire,” I burst out, angry and frustrated at the questions. “I came here to stop the empire. The
empire
left those displacement wave weapons here in your system. The
empire
used them to surprise
Impulse
, killing an entire crew of my countrymen. The
empire
killed my friends. I hate the empire!” I said, half-standing from my chair.

“Sit down, Mr. Cochrane,” said the captain, furious with my outburst. Serosian's hand on my arm and her withering stare made me sit back down again, but I was fuming that we were here wasting time with this man and his interrogation.

Once more the attaché came and whispered in Salibi's ear. At that moment Salibi stood to attention and the door behind him opened. I wasn't the only one surprised at who came through.

She was as tall as me, wearing a black one-piece formal suit with a white blouse underneath. Her skin was a soft caramel color and her eyes were a deep olive green and slightly almond in shape. Her hair was dark and hung well past her shoulders. I guessed she was about my age. She was stunningly beautiful.

Salibi and the attaché both bowed when she came in, indicating she clearly held a position of high authority. But her demeanor was not that of a military commander; she carried an aura of both power and privilege. She ignored Kierkopf and Serosian and looked straight at me, pointing.

“You, stand up,” she said to me in perfect, uninflected Standard. I did as commanded—there was really no other word for it. “State your name.”

I cleared my throat. “I'm Lieutenant Commander Peter Cochrane, of the Union Navy ship
Impulse
. Serial number—”

“I'm not interested in your military rank,” she said. “I demand to know if you are from the Cochrane family of Quantar.”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“The ruling family of Quantar?”

“Yes.”

“Your title?”

There was no hiding it from her now. “Viscount of Queensland, heir to the Director's Chair, soon to be occupied by my father, Nathan Cochrane,” I said. Her hands went to her hips and she contemplated me a moment. Without breaking eye contact with me she said:

“Captain Salibi, escort our
guests
down to Levant, to the palace at New Sydon. You will give them all the honors afforded to invited guests of Prince Sunil Katara of Levant, and of his sister, the Princess Janaan,” she said. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, madam,” Salibi said, then bowed again as she left in a rush.

“What was that?” I asked, turning to my companions. Serosian smiled.

“I'd say we just passed the smell test,” he said, then laughed in his deep baritone.

On Levant

W
e left the yacht at the station, which Salibi informed us was called Artemis, and flew down to Levant Prime in Salibi's own cruiser. He was apologetic and went out of his way to explain his actions toward us. It seemed that the Imperial technology left in this system had been keeping the Levant Navy from leaving their own star system for nearly a decade, since before the Union had been formed. Every ship that had tried to venture to Levant's natural jump points had been destroyed, as had ships approaching too close to the HD cannon on Tyre. It seemed Levantine culture and technology were nearly equal to our own, absent a few decades of Historian assistance. I could see now why Imperial forces would want to keep us apart. Levant would make the Union even stronger. And they hated the old empire as much as we did.

We landed at an empty airbase in the dark of night and were escorted to a pair of military vertical-lift vehicles, there to take us on the nearly thirty-minute ride to the Royal Palace. Levant medical teams took our injured, including Captain Zander, to the base medical facility. I felt relieved that they would be getting proper care now, even if Levant medicine was likely a decade behind ours.

We arrived in New Sydon at 0400 local time, which was fine with me. We had all been running on minimal rest for what seemed like days and, truth be known, I was exhausted. I hoped Prince Katara wasn't an early riser.

We were ushered in to a grand foyer by Captain Salibi's men, who addressed him as “General.” He admitted as much to us, apologizing for being deceptive. It seemed he wouldn't dare risk leaving First Contact with an advanced potential enemy to some lowly navy ship captain.

I sunk into a large embroidered chair as we waited, feeling in my bones just how tired I was. Salibi said his goodbyes to the others and then bowed to me as he departed. I could barely lift my arm in response.

I must have dozed off immediately, as I was gently awakened by a military adjutant a few minutes later and we were escorted up an ornate, swept double staircase to the second floor. One by one each of my companions was given a room and an adjutant to see to their needs. Captain Kierkopf inquired about our forthcoming meeting with Prince Katara, and she was politely informed that we were scheduled to see him at lunch and would be allowed several hours of rest before the meeting. This seemed satisfactory and before I knew it I was at my room at the far end of the hallway. Wooden double doors swung open to reveal a large apartment with a sitting area in the middle and two large bedroom suites, one to each side. The adjutant asked which I preferred and I lamely pointed to the one on my right.

He was gamely explaining about how proper clothing would be brought up and asking if I needed anything like tea or toiletries. I said no and trundled off to the ridiculously large bed, pulling off my boots and crawling in. After a few moments, he said his goodbyes and was gone. I closed my eyes and was just about to drift off when I heard an unmistakable and unexpected sound.

Giggling.

I sat up and looked toward my bath where two young girls in exotic-colored garb, like that of belly dancers I had seen in trivids, were standing with a gold plate full of bottles and small cups. I was so tired I didn't really register the implications of this. One of the girls stepped forward and offered me a massage in broken Standard.

“Later. Sleep,” was all I could mumble out. They giggled again and the near one kissed me on the forehead and set my head gently down on the pillow. I heard them leave the room and quietly shut the door, then I drifted off into sweet oblivion.

I was awakened at 1000 hours by the sound of bathwater running and the girls giggling again. I was escorted into the bathroom, which was also enormous, quickly disengaged from my clothes and then sank into a massive tub full of hot, bubbly water. The girls sat on the edge of the tub, still thankfully fully clothed, chattering to each other in their native language, which I had no way of understanding. One of the girls washed my hair for me while the other took to rubbing my arms and shoulders, giggling and chattering the whole time. I had to admit that after the last few days, this was heaven.

After a while, they left me alone, and I didn't really miss them as I sat soaking my sore muscles for a few precious minutes. The next thing I heard jolted me back to reality.

“You seem to have settled in well,” came a deep female voice from behind me. I opened my eyes and whipped my head around to see the woman from the Levant High Station interrogation sitting in a boudoir chair observing me.

“How long have you been there?” I said, more forcefully than I would have liked. She laughed.

“Long enough, Sire Cochrane. Are our accommodations to your liking?” she asked. I noted she had changed into a less formal but still businesslike body suit. And she was still stunning.

“They are,” I said, swishing the bubbles as I tried to obtain a more dignified position. It was impossible. I was, after all, in a bubble bath.

“Good. I hope you had a chance to indulge in some of our . . . other offerings,” she said. I sat up in the tub as best I could.

“I am a gentleman, madam, and would do no such thing,” I replied. She laughed again, and I enjoyed watching every second of it.

“So you say,” she sat forward now. “I have come here on a bit of business, Sire. I wish to inform you of some helpful protocol before your meeting with the prince.”

“I'm in the bathtub, and you want to talk to me about protocol?” I deadpanned.

She smiled impishly at me. “What better place? I have a captive audience,” she replied.

“That you do, madam,” I said.

“First, I want you to know that this meeting is an informal one to welcome you and your people. There will be no serious exchanges made at this time. Tonight, however, will be a state dinner, and both the prince and princess will be there. This will be a formal occasion and you will be expected to talk business. Don't be surprised if the prince offers his most serious proposals after dinner in some informal setting, over an after-dinner drink or even during a walk in the royal gardens,” she said.

“Understood,” I replied. “About the prince—”

“He is only twenty-one years old,” she continued, “but don't mistake his youth for innocence. He was well trained by his father in preparation for leading our people.”

“And where is his father?”

She grew somber. “Both parents are dead. The mother from complications after the multiple birth, the father just a few years ago from heart disease,” she said.

“I'm sorry,” I said sincerely. “We have many treatments for heart disease that our Earth friends have given us. We would be glad to share them with you.” She was still smiling, but I could see there was pain behind it.

“That is something you can discuss with the prince,” she said.

“You mentioned a multiple birth. Are the prince and princess twins?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Fraternal, obviously. They are joint regents, but tradition dictates that the male heir controls most of the decision making.”

I nodded. “Traditions are difficult things to break,” I said. She replied only with a wry smile, then:

“And one more thing, Sire Cochrane. At some point the prince may propose an alliance, not between our world and your Union, but between his family and yours. It is critical to proper protocol that you do not refuse this proposal,” she said.

“You mean I have to say yes?” I said. “Tell me you're not talking about marriage?” She looked at me very seriously.

“You may conditionally accept,” she said, “Without refusing. This will be acceptable and likely create a strong bond between you and the prince. His family thrives on strong personal connections. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” I said. “And what of the princess?” At this she stood to go.

“Treat her with dignity and respect, and you cannot go wrong,” she said. Then she started out the door.

“Madam,” I called after her. “I don't even know your name. Will you be at dinner?” She turned halfway back to me.

“I will,” she said. “And you may know my name then.” At that, she was gone, and I was left alone with my tub of bubbles.

A few minutes later, I finished bathing, then dressed in one of the formal suits left for me, which fit perfectly, and headed out of the bedroom suite to the living area. I was surprised to find Serosian and Dobrina waiting for me, Serosian in his traditional Historian's garb and Dobrina in one of the formal female business suits. My two attendant girls giggled again when I entered the room. I quickly shooed them off so we could talk.

“I see your accommodations were a bit more
personal
than ours,” said the captain. I shrugged, refusing to take the bait, then sat down on a sofa.

“They seem to value royalty,” I said dryly. Serosian smiled.

“They do indeed. Which brings up some interesting questions,” he said.

“Such as?”

“Levant was once a republic, back in the old days before the civil war. They seem to have regressed back to a class structure here that favors the monarchy in decision making. That puts them much more closely in line with the old form of Imperial government than with the Union's system,” said the Historian.

“Which brings into question how good a match for us they would be,” said the captain. Out of uniform, in her business suit, the captain, no, Dobrina, seemed suddenly much more at ease to me, and much more feminine. It was a development I noted before returning my attention to the conversation.

“It would certainly be a better situation for Levant to come into the Union than to fall back under Imperial influence,” said Serosian. “Hopefully they can be persuaded to adopt a more open form of government, perhaps even a parliamentary system, as a condition of entry into the Union. Still, a constitutional monarchy is not the worst form of government possible after a century and a half of isolation.”

“It would be in their favor if they were to adopt more modern practices, both socially and politically,” said Dobrina.

“They do seem to favor males in most social customs,” I noted.

“Really, and how have you discovered that?” asked Dobrina, clearly annoyed at the concept.

“The woman from the station paid me a visit. She explained how things work here in some detail,” I said.

“How much detail?” she asked. I sensed the slightest bit of jealousy in her, which intrigued me. I ignored the implications and went on.

“It seems that the prince will likely wish to deal directly with me,” I said. Serosian nodded at this.

“Your diplomatic skills will undoubtedly be called into play. Prince Katara will likely only negotiate with you because of your royal lineage,” he said.

“I am no diplomat,” I said. “I'm trained for the navy.”

“That is a failing of your rather egalitarian upbringing,” commented Serosian. “One we will have to adapt to. You were trained early in your life as to the protocols of royalty, weren't you?”