Diverse Demands Read online

  “Understood. I accept.”

  “You can have a moment to think about it.”

  As though he would leave a lone, maybe injured, Human in that predicament. “Thanks, but I won’t change my decision.”

  Gordahl nodded and tapped his computer, then he turned back to Tevd. “Are you willing to travel to the Ontrevay under commander Antony Galliano?”

  “I am willing. I accept the mission.” Tevd’s voice was calm enough, but his face remained rigid.

  “Thank you.” Gordahl continued speaking as he used his computer. “Antony, your supply vessel modules are being assembled in berth twenty-two. The engineer is a Prednian named Airitha. Inform her if you find any issues with it. There’s an adjacent nav room assigned to you until your departure in…” He swept a finger over his input device. “Twenty-nine hours. Your crew has just been notified that you are commanding and will be expecting your orders.”

  Commander TarKeen paced in the Epri7’s command room, awaiting Captain Leonfir’s decision. Would Rialmerray never finish? The verbose chief of tra-pentazine protection droned through endless objections.

  Travannesal of Frayunomen, a rare participant, stared past Rialmerray and the display showing course and hazards. A primary member of government shouldn’t be waiting out a spatial assessment. He wouldn’t even be on this ship if not for Pernanyen’s disastrous decision.

  Leonfir interrupted Rialmerray’s list of potential threats. “Enough detail. State the conclusion.”

  Rialmerray drew his head back. “Do you not find it important to—”

  “Yes.” Leonfir clamped his full lips and leaned forward. “We all have important work, and the rest of us would like to do ours. Is the proposed route safe, or is it not?”

  Rialmerray jerked his head leftward. “If they don’t do anything stupid, they—”

  “No ifs,” Travannesal said. “That vessel must reach the Ontrevay without incident.”

  TarKeen halted before Rialmerray. “Either confirm the route is safe or tell me what portion must change.”

  Rialmerray huffed. “As long as they don’t generate gravity, it is as safe as possible in this region.”

  Leonfir straightened. “It’s to be a small vessel without that capability. I approve the general route.”

  Muted reflections danced across the topaz in Travannesal’s gold chain of office as he turned to an aide. “Send the prepared message to the Ontrevay’s captain.”

  Leonfir followed Travannesal to the door on the critical side of the broad command room. Rialmerray stomped across the non-critical side as TarKeen approached ParTan, a watch officer he could trust without reservation. Better yet, she was capable of covering some of his duties, now that he must fulfill so many of Leonfir’s. “ParTan, se—”

  “TarKeen,” Travannesal said, pausing at the door, “your company, please.”

  Though TarKeen held his demeanor, ParTan’s lips twitched, and she gave him an ironic nod as though acknowledging an order. He followed the silent primary, matching his brisk pace through the halls.

  In the government suite’s privacy, Travannesal said, “Leonfir, as this plays out, I want your fleet to record indisputable documentation every time the Collaborative fulfills any portion of their agreement. The commander of the supply vessel must be challenged to provide proof of race, yet not challenged beyond reason.”

  “I understand, sir,” Leonfir said. “I’ll convey the delicacy of the situation to the captain of each ship.”

  “If any seem reluctant to comply, inform me. The path to peace is a steep climb. Not only is progress challenging, but one slip could send us plummeting into war.”

  TarKeen’s brow gathered. Travannesal could be vague when he chose, but never when he gave directives. Leonfir tried another response that failed to lighten Travannesal’s frown.

  “Is the path so steep?” TarKeen asked. “We are not at war with the Collaborative now.”

  “Neither are we at peace,” Travannesal said. “There are those who resist even a single step toward it, so yes, they steepen the path. We must take precautions. Even the best actions can be criticized and twisted into fetters.”

  “Who?” TarKeen asked.

  Travannesal’s lips quirked. “You should know I cannot answer that.”

  Ah. He must be referring to a ruling family. To one of his peers.

  Travannesal changed the subject, or so it seemed. “Shennasee is sending a representative to observe.”

  Was that just notice of a visiting dignitary, or an indirect answer to his question? TarKeen inclined his head. “I will prepare to receive them.” His thoughts skipped past the matters of course coordination and arrival, to the ramifications of having yet another ruling family member aboard the Epri7. Not likely to disrupt the ship’s triad, which consisted of Travannesal, Leonfir, and himself, but what else might an observer discover? What if he investigated VanDar and his intrigues? Plenty of time to deal with that. It would take weeks for the representative to reach them.

  “Why send an observer?” Leonfir asked.

  Travannesal answered as though the words had a foul taste. “The stated reason is to ensure objective verification that the intent of our law of constrained links is fulfilled. Jenarsig added a shining exposition of my honor and claims that he wants to protect it from any insinuations that could arise under these unusual and precarious circumstances.”

  TarKeen’s hairline shifted. That compliment smelled like an insult.

  Chapter Three

  Antony perched on a work bench with one foot braced against an equipment rack. Voices mixed with the clatter and whine of tools, as technicians separated two modules of the supply vessel. Antony’s computer, in engineering mode, projected the propulsion system. He rotated the hovering 3-D image, studying it.

  He’d invited Tevd to join him here, before his meeting with the rest of the crew. It looked like he wasn’t going to accept that olive branch.

  Footsteps with a long-legged rhythm echoed across the berth. Antony glanced up. Ah, he did accept it, at least with his presence, if not with a smile.

  He strode past the propulsion unit and featureless container modules, then came to a crisp halt before Antony. “Did you want to see me about anything in particular?”

  “Not really. What do you think of our little ship?”

  Tevd turned toward the elongated navigation cone at the forward end. Overhead lights glinted off the windows ringing the cylindrical modules behind it. Green bars, indicating horticulture, marked the next module. Tevd frowned at the widening gap where the living quarters were being separated from the horticulture module. “I would have thought it would be fully assembled by now.”

  “I asked for a modification. Airitha isn’t happy with me. Propulsion is complete though.” Antony raised the schematic to eye level. “Any concerns or comments?”

  Tevd flicked a glance at it. “The engineers know their business, and final approval is the commander’s responsibility. Don’t patronize me.”

  Antony closed his computer and stood. “When we met outside of Gordahl’s office, you were my superior. Yet, you showed me courtesy. Were you patronizing me?”

  Tevd’s broad lips flexed as though locked in battle. “No. I apologize. I find the situation…awkward.”

  “Awkward?” Antony tilted his head. “That word describes my feelings, but I doubt it covers yours. Would infuriating be closer?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Console yourself with the future. In a month’s time, our situations will reverse. Not only will I lose my command, but my rank as well.”

  “That’s hardly the sa—” Tevd stopped himself.

  “Not the same? Yes and no. I’ve held command before, far longer than a month. I stepped down for an unknown length of time, to pursue a goal that is not guaranteed. Yes, it’s irritating to receive orders from those less experienced than I, but it can be tolerated. A change in title does not change me. I am the same man regardless of my rank. And so are
you.” Antony held his gaze for several seconds. “My first impression was that it could be pleasant to fly together. It still can be.”

  Tevd shifted his weight. “Point taken.”

  “That Human gesture you offered me…was it just something you’d seen, or do you know what it means?”

  “I read about it in a Human profile, which said it implies friendship.”

  Antony nodded. “That’s assumed at first meeting. Among acquaintances, it signifies intentional friendship and the respect that comes with it.” He extended his hand.

  Tevd looked at the proffered hand, then wrapped his fingers around Antony’s wrist and met his eyes.

  Antony’s solemn acceptance morphed into a tease. “Much better grip this time.”

  The hint of a laugh escaped with Tevd’s breath as he turned to follow Antony to the navigation room.

  A voice reached them before they entered. “Cramped? Don’t you know how to move about a craft in zero G? And you, a navigator. We Prednians are broader-shouldered than either of you, and we can do it.”

  Three others had arrived before them. A Dantokrellie woman leaned against the wall facing the door, and a Tenelli sat at one of the consoles.

  The Prednian, sitting with his back to the door, continued to expound. “If I can fit, so can the rest of the crew.”

  The Dantokrellie glanced at Antony and Tevd as they came through the open doorway. “Pelta,”—her tone dipped in her race’s humor inflection—“I think you need to recalibrate your dimension meter.”

  The Prednian jumped up and spun round, his gaze traveling up to meet theirs. The top of his head didn’t reach their shoulders.

  “I am Antony Galliano. You must be Pelta.”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “What do you think, Tevd? Is he the largest member of the crew?”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed it,” Tevd said, sounding uncertain. “We could measure.”

  “I didn’t realize—” Pelta began.

  “The races were stated in the preparation info,” the Tenelli said. He looked up at Antony. “I’m Theshain.”

  “Theshain,” Antony said, according him the Tenelli courtesy of repeating the name on introduction.

  Pelta seemed too flustered to stem his words. “Well, they’re not all this tall.”

  “True,” Antony said. “Sorry, Pelta, but you’re about to be inconvenienced by excessive space.”

  As he spoke, the other Tenelli joined them. “I’m Farian,” she said. “Are you having the living quarters extended?”

  Antony turned to her. “Farian. Another module is being inserted.”

  She grinned. “I like you already.”

  “How bad was it?” Tevd asked.

  “Let’s just say that neither you nor I would have fit into a sleeping berth, at least not with our legs straight. Exercise space was also inadequate.” He turned to the Dantokrellie, her race obvious from her short hair with its patchy look in varied shades of brown. “You must be Drenann.”

  Antony let conversation flow, so his crew could get to know one another. When Theshain twitted Pelta with, “I’m sure there’s room to squeeze your chair in between Farian and me,” Antony redirected. “Pelta, how much information have you received on these new elements, trazine and pentazine?”

  Pelta’s rising shoulders settled, and he launched into a subject he knew well. In time, Antony brought the discussion around to the inevitable: course design. He gave the two scientists leave to go, but neither took advantage of it. A good sign. Better yet, all three navigators interacted well during the inevitable debates over course refinement. This team could work.

  Antony paced the length of the supply vessel. Behind schedule before they even started. The seal of the new module had failed inspection and had to be reworked. Airitha was fuming worse than when he’d asked for the modification. She didn’t say so, but her glare made it clear she blamed him for both the failure and the delay.

  Tevd came to meet him. “The inspectors just finished. You’ll like their results.”

  “Good. We can escape Airitha’s scowl.” They strode to the diagnostic display.

  “What’s a wasted hour and an engineer’s frown when compared to a month of tight quarters?”

  “Good point.” Antony reviewed the results, then glanced around his crew and uttered the words they awaited. “Time to board.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tevd said.

  The role of commander settled on Antony’s shoulders like a familiar coat. Station exit procedures went without a hitch. Initial slip course to the rift entrance was also smooth, as were transition through the rift and initiation of their primary course. The crew executed every step with calm proficiency. Some buried part of him had worried that command would be awkward. Now, it felt as natural as zero G. He savored the moment within the restraint of his pilot couch, then sent their status update to the space station and the Ontrevay.

  The station response came over the communication channel. “Acknowledged. May you have a prosperous voyage.”

  Antony stretched and glanced sideways at Farian, snug in the other pilot couch. “Initiate automated location update.” An unusual practice but deemed useful due to the PitKreelaundun abilities to block communication. There was no way they could block the absence of an automated comm signal.

  “Update initiated,” she said.

  “Take over piloting.” While she reconfigured her console, Antony spoke over his shoulder. “Tevd, do you need a break before you start your shift?”

  “No, I’m ready.”

  Antony released his restraint and pushed out of the front couch. His snug navigation suit ensured that no lose fabric would catch. He hooked a foot on the armrest to keep from floating higher. The cone-shaped module widened enough that the rear couches were offset, giving occupants a partial forward view and a great deal more besides. The entire cone was transparent, at least to those inside.

  Tevd rotated his couch to face inward and floated out of it by straightening his body.

  Swapping places with him, Antony said, “Tevd, you have navigation command.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Theshain also turned his couch inward. “Let’s try out this 3-D display.” He tapped controls.

  “How many times do you have to try that?” Farian asked.

  “It’s just my favorite toy. Have you ever had one of these in the back of a nav module?”

  Antony still hovered in the central area, and the display splashed over him.

  “Oh, no,” Theshain said. “We have an enormous piece of debris blocking our route. It’s bigger than the nebula…and shaped oddly similar to a Human.”

  “Cute.” Antony smirked and moved to the airlock at the rear of the nav module, which now served only as a door.

  As he opened it, Pelta’s voice drifted through. “…in a test chamber that—” Pelta blinked at him from the lounge’s secure seating. “Uh, yes?”

  “We’re stable in slip,” Antony said. “You don’t need to stay strapped in.”

  “Oh.” Pelta started unbuckling as he spoke. “Let’s discuss it over dinner, shall we, Drenann?”

  Farian chuckled. Antony nudged the doorframe and pivoted to the navs, as she whispered, “We have to do something about the way Pelta panics over slip entry.”

  “I don’t think he even noticed it,” Antony murmured. “We go to rotating shifts now for sleep and nav duty as planned. Any questions?”

  Tevd tilted his head at their course plan. “Not unless you can tell me how to make that string of PitKreelaundun ships disappear.”

  Tevd’s voice interrupted music in the exercise room. “Message received.”

  Antony slowed his stride. “From who?”

  “The PitKreelaundun.”

  Antony pulled off the weight straps and kicked away from the treadmill. “Replay it for me.” He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face as an alien voice came over the comm system.

  “This is Sairminnaton, captain of the PitK
reelaundun ship Demri5. I request that you exit from slip for further communication.”

  Tevd’s voice followed in the recording. “Message received. Stand by.”

  “How does the area look for dropping from slip?” Antony asked.

  “We have a few good options.”

  “Pick one and notify them that we’re exiting. Don’t feel a need to rush. Send a status message to the Ontrevay and Gordahl. Route all audio messages to me, but keep my end muted.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Antony wiped himself down with a cool, wet cloth. Only four days into the trip, and already the PitKreelaundun declared their jurisdiction. They’d want proof of his race, but what else? He sang a few lines from the song that had just been playing to warm up his voice, then stopped by his berth for a jacket. Weird addition in zero G, but his orders were to communicate both audibly and visually.

  He passed Drenann in the lounge strapping in for deceleration. She turned to him, her eyes wide.

  “Relax, Drenann. Nothing terrible has happened. We expected this.”

  Antony entered the nav module as Tevd flicked the ship-wide comm control. “All crew, strap in now.”

  Antony settled into one of the rear couches.

  “Any orders, sir?” Tevd asked.

  “Carry on.”

  Tevd piloted, while Farian controlled the dimensional drive and managed shields. Antony left them to it. If there was one thing that should never be interrupted, it was dimensional change, exit being more critical than entrance. As soon as they returned to normal space, he pulled up an image of the ship that had haled them. A long cylinder spun on its axis. Typical PitKreelaundun design, though longer and narrower than the Epri7, which he had studied.

  The alien voice came over the comm channel, complete with a video image. “This is Sairminnaton, captain of the PitKreelaundun ship Demri5, requesting communication with the commander of the Interstellar Collaborative vessel.”

  They sure liked a lot of words. The racial profile was right on that point. Antony unclipped his restraint harness and moved between the front couches. “Send video comm and move back.”