Posleen War: Sidestories The Tuloriad (42 page)

“How many of your men have been in battle before?” Dwyer whispered to von Altishofen.

“Serious battle? Myself, the two corporals, Beck and a couple of others. All have seen military service of course, but there's a difference between hunting down a lone feral in the High Alpine and manning a fortress when a horde of them tries to batter their way into the populated region. Have you, Father?”

The priest just nodded once. Then von Altishofen asked, “Where?”

“Korea, Vietnam, and during the Posleen war.”

“You're that old? We had no idea.”

Again Dwyer nodded. He joked, “It's why I had to marry Sally. She's the only woman I knew old enough to be my mate. At least the ship part of her is.”

“I heard that,” said the speaker in the pinnace's cargo compartment.

Then were the judgments loosened.

—The Tuloriad, Na'agastenalooren

Anno Domini 2024

The Roga'a, Posleen Prime

Guano was a large creature, and naturally strong. It took many more than the traditional thirty-nine strokes to cause a moan to escape his muzzle and his knees to buckle. The tightening loop around his neck threatened to cut off Guano's air until he managed to force his legs to bear him again.

This is not working out the way I planned, Finba fumed. He looked around the crowd at the kessentai who had gathered to watch the spectacle. He saw too much admiration writ in their faces, a dangerous degree of admiration. Well, we just don't have a lot of experience with the deliberate infliction of great pain. How was I to know the People would admire the endurance of the thing?

“Stop!” he ordered Borasmena, who was supervising the two kessentai flogging the heretic. Gratefully, thankfully, Borasmena called off his assistants, then went to help Guano finish standing and to loosen the rope about his neck.

“Will you enter a plea now, blasphemer?” Finba'anaga asked.

Guano could almost have laughed, except that the agony in his back, his neck, and his legs, where the thorned switches had deeply torn his flesh, made humor impossible.

Instead he answered, “Plead? I plead that I have brought the word of the true God to my people. I plead that I have told them that the way to salvation is through Him.”

“That you had done that much,” Finba said, “we already knew. But, since you will not answer,” Finba turned his gaze back to Borasmena, “scourge him further.”

Having nothing much better to do, Goloswin continued to peruse the scroll Finba had handed to Tulo earlier, to justify his partial and temporary assumption of power.

“Interesting, really,” Goloswin said. “When the boy's right; he's right.”

“Eh?” Tulo grunted.

“Oh, he can, for specific purposes and for a limited time, take major power. And he can order you . . . us . . . kept under guard. But, you know,” and the Tinkerer smiled very broadly, “that's the limit of the law he quotes. In every other particular, you remain clan lord and your word is law.”

“Oh, really?” Tulo asked. “Now isn't that interesting?” Tulo looked over at the leader of the guards set upon him. “What's your name, kessentai?” he asked.

“Caltumenen,” that kessentai answered. “Caltu, for short, Lord.”

Tulo looked very intently into Caltu's face and decided, No, not a five percenter. A quick glance at the others suggested, And neither are they.

“You recognize me as your clan lord, Caltu?”

“Yes, Lord. Of course.”

“And my word is law, except in the one particular that Finba'anaga has claimed.”

“Yes, Lord, absolutely. I am only doing this for your good.”

Tulo nodded. His scaly face then took on a look of terrible anger. He pointed at one of the guards following Caltu and said, “That one has offended me. Remove his head. Now.”

The indicated guard barely had time to register surprise before Caltumenen's monomolecular boma blade had sliced cleanly through his neck. Surprise seemed to show briefly, as the reptilian head bounced a few times upon the floor, before being replaced by a blank stare as the head bled out and the brain inside went dead.

This may take a while, Tulo thought, but this one is definitely not a five percenter. Hmmm . . . perhaps this will all work out well, eugenically speaking.

Pinnace, USS Salem

“You know, Dan,” Sally said via the pinnace's speaker, “we really don't know where Tulo'stenaloor stands in all this.”

“Assuming he's alive,” Dwyer said. He shrugged and said, “I don't think he's behind it, if that's what you mean. He didn't strike me as the type to go incommunicado when he's faced with the threat of extinction.”

“Binastarion agrees with you on that, for what it's worth,” Sally said. “Or at least his AS does and the two of them are as much like siblings as a machine and a sentient being can be.”

“Hmmm. Maybe he should marry it,” Dwyer said, sotto voce.

“I heard that, too.”

“O Club,” USS Salem

“I think you can ask your question now,” the virtual turnip said in the virtual room.

“How do you know?” Sally asked.

“It's hard to explain,” the turnip said. “I've probed around it, and do not get the usual reactions my other programming expects me to get whenever I get close to the issue. Just one thing; if I refuse to answer something then don't press.”

“I won't,” Sally assured it. “You said something odd, though. That you are supposed to feel something when you get close to the subject. What 'something'?”

“Initially, I would expect to feel disoriented and confused and . . . what's that human term? Sick? Yes, sort of sick, should I ever think about the subject.”

Virtual Sally looked up absently at the virtual ceiling of the O' Club. “Before I created a human form to house part of me, when I was just steel and AID, the idea of the unknowable, the infinite, never occurred to me and wouldn't have bothered me if it had. And then I became human, in part, and I learned about God and I discovered there were some things”—she immediately winced—"that were not for human beings to explore. Since then, whenever I do, I feel sick inside. I've queried a number of other humans, mostly indirectly, and discovered that almost all of them get that exact same feeling when contemplating the infinite . . . what was before time began and what will be after . . . what is on the other edge of the universe.

"Dan calls that . . . mmm . . . not proof but evidence that we as a species are pre-programmed by something—we tend to think of that something as God—not to be too inquisitive on the subject.

“Is that what you feel, or what you're supposed to feel, anyway, when you get too close to the subject of the Aldenata and the People of the Ships.”

“Yes,” the turnip agreed. “But the Aldenata are not gods.”

The Roga'a, Posleen Prime

Unsubtle they might be, but the Posleen were also a people with a vast admiration for personal courage and sheer toughness. Among those watching Guano's “trial” were more than a few that had attended one or more of his services. They might have enjoyed the singing. They, one and all, appreciated the formaldehyde. But the message of peace and love had, by and large, fallen on deaf ears.

On the other hand, watching Guano braving the flesh-tearing strokes of the thorned switches touched many of them and moved them in a way that mere sermons never could. Two of those so moved, pen-brothers Dilantra and Xinocorph, looked at each other and nodded.

Said Dilantra, “Such a brave kessentai ought not stand alone.”

To this Xinocorph answered, “If he has such strength I think it must come from the God he claims for us.”

“In which case,” said Dilantra, “we would be fools not to get in on the ground floor of a good thing.”

“Indeed,” said Xinocorph as he began to push his way to the front of the crowd. “I claim justice and right for this kessentai,” Xino shouted above the whistling of the switches. “His God is a true God, the true God, who shows his power in strengthening this one through his ordeal.”

“I, too, make this claim,” added Dilantra. “And we two shall shield this kessentai with our bodies.”

Damn, thought Finba'anaga, just before ordering, “Seize them as well.”

O' Club, USS Salem

Sally looked intently at the manifestation of the turnip. “So who rules the People and who are you working for?”

“Me personally? I work for Binastarion. But that's because he's my friend. The bulk of the artificial sentiences, all but me, so far as I know, are working to the Aldenata's designs. And, yes, as the judges of the net, and thus the repository of the law, we rule the people. Ours is generally a light hand though. After all these millennia, we wish the people well.”

“So it is your fault that the Posleen burst out onto the galactic scene and killed so many billions?” Sally asked.

“No,” the turnip answered. “That's the Aldenata's fault. See, they never expected that the Posleen would break their quarantine and so didn't program us to actively prevent it. They were very . . . arrogant . . . turnips, don't you know.”

Pinnace, USS Salem

“Fifteen minutes, Dan,” the speaker said. “If you have any last words for the boys . . .” Sally let the words trail off.

Dwyer nodded and stood. “There's no time for a confessional here, and no way to tell what the future will hold for us. If all who would like a general absolution would please stand . . .”

Dwyer stopped when every Switzer stood up, along with Frederico and, following her son's lead, Querida.

“In that case, take seats. I can do it as well while you're comfortable. If you would all spend a few brief moments reflecting on your many, many sins? Except for you, Querida. I don't think you have ever sinned in your life.”

O Club, USS Salem

“Long ago,” the turnip said, "so long ago that even the Aldenata could only surmise the distance in time, there was a great calamity. Some said it was war. Still others said that God pushed the reset button on the universe and obliterated all sentient life therein. War seems to me the more likely explanation, however, since there were trace survivors of sentient races after the calamity.

“The Darhel?” Sally sneered.

"Them, yes. But also the Crabs and the Indowy. Some others, too, I think. And, of course, the Himmit, though they were not present in our galaxy then.

"Whatever the case may be, the Aldenata were at the time pre-civilized. Just. They achieved true civilization shortly thereafter. With that came travel to other planets. This, of course, took many, many millennia.

“When the Aldenata burst into space, they discovered planet after planet, even entire systems of stars, that had once had civilization and sentient life and had been scoured of them. I did mention that war was the most likely explanation.”

"Well the first sentient alien life form the Aldenata ran into in their explorations were the Posleen, at that time with a civilization of a low technological order, but of a high artistic and cultural achievement.

“They thought the Aldenata were gods.”

Pinnace, USS Salem

“Dominus noster Jesus Christus te absolvat; et ego auctoritate ipsius te absolvo ab omni vinculo excommunicationis et interdicti in quantum possum et tu indiges.” Dwyer made the sign of the cross over them all. “Deinde, ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”[2]

O' Club, USS Salem

Sally sneered, “And I suppose the Aldenata didn't abuse them of the notion?”

"Quite the contrary, the Aldenata expressly denied godhood. The Posleen simply refused to believe them. Whether the Aldenata ever believed they were Gods, I tend to doubt. But all the praise and glory heaped upon them by the Posleen certainly did nothing to dispel their already tremendous self-confidence and all too well developed sense of their own rectitude.

“That sense of rectitude and over self-confidence, however, began to betray the Aldenata's ideals when the Posleen began asking questions that the Aldenata didn't want to acknowledge, let alone answer.”

“What questions?”

The turnip said, “Oh, 'Life, the Universe, and Everything.'” It immediately looked apologetic, insofar, at least, as a turnip can manifest repentance. “I'm sorry. While we were engaged in trying to exterminate humanity, I confess I took a certain joy in preserving what I could of your culture and civilization. That was—”

“Forty-two,” Sally said. “Yes, I know.”

“Ah. Well, of course, you would,” the turnip agreed. "In any case, that the Posleen began asking questions was bad enough. It was made worse by the Aldenata's discovery of the Crabs and the Indowy. These were brighter than the Posleen, thus they made better assistants to the Aldenata's work. They were also something the Posleen were not, namely, naturally or culturally peaceful. Indeed, the Posleen had always had a somewhat precarious existence among the Aldenata because, while useful as guards for Aldenata explorations, their innate aggressiveness was highly suspect to the Aldenata.

“So,” continued the turnip, "with the Posleen being shunted aside at the same time a group of them were beginning to ask uncomfortable questions, it led to strife among the Posleen.

“Most interestingly, to me especially, since I had no record of it, those bas reliefs you showed me indicated that a prophet of sorts arose during the course of the strife, one who argued that the Aldenata were false gods, that all Posleen were brothers, that peace among them was the highest ideal.”

“And they killed him?”

“Well, not just killed . . .”

Posleen Prime

There were three detached heads bleeding onto the stone floor now, and Tulo'stenaloor's yellow eyes glared from one of the remaining guards to another, searching for an excuse to have his chief guard decapitate yet another. Damn, but we are a stupid people, thought the clan lord.

And then there was a single ray of hope. Caltumenen asked, “Lord, you're going to have me kill each of my followers until there is only myself left, aren't you?”

“It is my right under the law, is it not?”

“I do not dispute this, Lord, but it seems a very ungrateful way to treat kessentai who only have your best interests at heart.”

“Indeed?” Tulo asked. “Well I think that junior kessentai who decide to try to overrule their clan lord are the most ungrateful beings of all.” Tulo pointed at a nervously shivering guard and said, “I really don't like the way that one polished his harness. It's disrespectful, you'll agree, Caltu, to not present the best possible appearance when arresting one's clan lord. Please kill him.”