The Myriad: Tour of the Merrimack #1 (13 page)

BOOK: The Myriad: Tour of the Merrimack #1
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At the first firecracker arrival of a landing disk, the child ran, keening. The birds scattered, shrieking and flapping. Guards ran to the terrace railing, weapons ready.

Donner rose in annoyance at the Earthlings’ thunderous arrival. He tossed his handful of grain into the water to a thrashing turbulence of fins.

Donner looked only at Farragut. “Because you saved my life, I shall not have you shot. I will speak to your Archon. Now.”

Farragut muttered aside in English, (“I need a pronoun here, Augustus.”) He needed she-supreme.

(“Doesn’t exist.”) No such entity in the Myriad. No such pronoun.

Captain Farragut answered the Archon in Myriadian. “The President of the United States is female. It would take the better part of your year for anyone to get here from Earth. Marisa Johnson’s calendar is always full, but I’ll relay your request on the next courier. It will take a good sixty days to get an answer.”

The alien face assumed the rounded lines of unmistakable shock.

Farragut dropped back into English for a quick consultation. (“Augustus, he’s been using a different ‘you’ to me here. What’s he calling me?”)

(“You have been demoted to a subordinate.”)

(“How do I ‘you’ him back?”)

(“What sort of ‘you’ would you like? You-servant? You-dog? You-child?”)

(“Child. That’s a good one. Give me you-child.”)

Guillame Kapila broke in with grave reservations. (“Captain Farragut, this is not the sort of course I would pursue.”)

(“That’s why I didn’t ask you. Augustus?”)


Inti
,” Augustus supplied the pronoun.

(“Thank you.”) Farragut turned back to the Archon. “And
inti
, Donner,
you
may address your questions to me in President Johnson’s absence, or to the duly designated representatives of the League of Earth Nations.”

Donner’s bronze face purpled in mounting rage. The League ambassadors hastily searched their language modules, trying to compose words with which to break into this debacle and smooth over Farragut’s blundering arrogant insults, when suddenly the Archon broke into laughter, and Farragut grinned.

“You,”
Donner pointed to Farragut, restoring him to equal status. “Walk with me. Not them.” He waved the LEN behind. “Only you.”

Donner tolerated Augustus trailing behind, perhaps recognizing the effeminately tall Roman’s usefulness.

The LEN balked, tried to follow also, but Donner’s guards blocked their way.

Farragut could hear the LEN representatives calling, (“Don’t think we don’t see what you’re doing here, Captain Farragut! This shall be reported.”)

Augustus caught Farragut’s eye and murmured skeptically, (“Those are Earth’s ambassadors?”)

Farragut shrugged. (“Well.”)

It was fast becoming apparent that these LEN representatives were not the sort of ambassadors that one sends between nations. Not at all like Jose Maria Cordillera, who was a former Terra Rican ambassador to the United States. These were conservationists on a mission to save alien cultures from Earth interference. Edenists. Put simply (and the problem was very simple to them): Man degrades everything he touches. Everything in nature is natural except humankind. Made for less than diplomatic diplomats. The LEN representatives carried the courtesy title “ambassador” to facilitate their contact with alien species.

Could hear them shouting from behind the cordon of the Archon’s guards, (“This is
exactly
what we sought to avoid, Captain Farragut! Do you see what you have done!”)

Farther up the colonnade, the protests diminished. Farragut heard only alien creatures singing.

The unreal beauty of the star-bright Arran night could make a man forget why he was here.

Up ahead, under the colonnade, servants swept walkingsticks off the cool-shadowed ceiling with an air of evening ritual, shooing the creatures back into the garden.

At the Archon’s approach, the menials gathered up their tools and discreetly vanished between glistening white marble columns.

“Your President,” said Donner, hands clasped behind his back as they strolled. “A figurehead?”

“No.”

Donner coughed, a deep cough like Kerry Blue’s. “You pledged yourself to serve a female?”

“I pledged myself to the Constitution of the United States,” said Farragut.

Donner puzzled over this. Asked, “This President sends you orders?”

“I left with a mission objective, but orders? No. Not at this distance. Circumstances prohibit use of our instant communications system. So I’m on my own out here.”

“Do you mean to say your instant communication system does not work this far away?”

“No. It does work. We don’t dare use it here. There is something else out here that uses resonant pulse, and it can track a signal back to its transmitter. We must not resonate. We’re on silent run.”

Donner gazed up at the blazing host of stars in the indigo sky. Gave a human scowl. The more answers he got, the more questions he had. “And these LEN. What are they?”

“Representatives of the League of Earth Nations. They’re scientists and ambassadors. They mean no harm. In fact, they are here to protect you.”

“They don’t like you.”

“They don’t like my interfering in your world.”

Donner considered this. Liked the recognition that it was
his
world. Cast a satisfied gaze about his grounds.

Colonies of ambiguous plant/animal things lined the walkway. The xenos called them euglenoids; the Marines called them “land coral.” Fans and antlers and ledges and domes and honeycombs of them in all the colors of a tropical sea lay about in reefs in the garden. Feathery fronds unfolded from tough shells under the gentle light.

Donner’s world.

Then the rest of the implication caught up with him. “You ‘interfered’ with my world.” The only thing Donner knew that Farragut had done was to save Donner’s life. “They would have let me die?”

“You will have to ask them that,” Farragut dodged.

“They can give you orders? They have that power?”

“If I stay here, yes. Unless your worlds come under attack from space, they can do that. In a military situation, I
am
the archon. In peacetime, they have jurisdiction over any Earth presence in a sovereign system.”

“You must explain your command structure. I do not understand who is in charge. How can it change moment to moment?”

Probably ought not to try to explain about Presidential elections. Farragut said, “The ultimate authority we all answer to is the law. The law doesn’t change. The individual in power does.”

“These LEN. Are they a faction?”

Captain Farragut could see the route the Archon’s mind had taken, filtering information to fit his own situation. The
Merrimack
had taken Donner’s side against a rebellious faction. Donner would consider doing the same for John Farragut.

“No. We don’t have a world government. The League of Earth Nations is a . . . league.” Farragut could not shave the meaning of the alien words close enough to explain himself.

“There is no one supreme power?”

“No. But you must be familiar with this. Your home planet Origin must have more than one nation.”

“It used to,” said Donner. “It could not remain so.”

“Ours did.”

“How inefficient.”

“Very,” Augustus footnoted from behind them.

Donner cocked his head. Had forgotten Augustus was back there. Asked Farragut, “You let him talk like that? Is he not your subordinate?”

“At the moment he is supposed to be. Augustus’ people are imperial. They have a single government on his world. But my country controls his world right now.”

Donner stopped, turned to face both of them. “You and you are not from one world?” He used you-equal and you-subordinate for Farragut and Augustus.

“Palatine is a breakaway colony,” said Augustus.

“And we are enemies,” Farragut pointed between himself and Augustus.

Augustus made a
T’Arra
motion of agreement.

Now Donner was completely confused. “But this one is your adviser. He takes orders from you.”

“Palatine came under U.S. protection,” Farragut explained.

“U.S. That is your nation. Palatine came under you how?”

“They begged,” said Farragut.

“We asked,” said Augustus.

“A common enemy,” said Farragut.

“An enemy not like you and you are enemies,” Donner surmised, pointing from Farragut to Augustus.

“No,” Farragut agreed. “Ours was a cold war.”

“That did not translate. I do not understand ‘cold war.’ ”

“Cold war means we are not shooting at each other,” said Farragut.

“At the moment,” said Augustus.

“At the moment,” said Farragut.

“In a rational universe, we are shooting at each other,” said Augustus.

Donner waited for Farragut to counter that. When he did not, Donner asked him, “The universe is not rational?”

Farragut shook his head. “Not since our common enemy showed up.”

Donner’s dark eyes flicked back and forth, weighing the sides. “What kind of enemy is this that drew you together?”

Farragut hesitated. How to explain the Hive? “Monsters,” he said at last. “They eat. That is all you really need to know about them.”

“Which protein structure do they eat?” Donner asked. “Left-handed or right-handed?”

Donner’s own proteins had a different structure than Arran native life. He would be aware of the difference, and the incompatibility of the two. Wanted to know if he were on the menu.

“Both. All. The Hive is a universal omnivore.”

“You think these monsters are here?”

“No. We know they are not.” Farragut had come here on the gorgons’ trail. Lost them somewhere. Couldn’t figure out how.

“And now you will both take orders from those—” Donner made a face of distate, “—those LEN?”

“No. We’re leaving.”

Without the cameras on him, Donner could admit his inferior position; he confessed his own dilemma: “How do I order a being with all those big guns to stay?” Donner very much wanted John Farragut’s
Merrimack
on his team.

Farragut smiled. “I need to take my big guns away to hunt monsters.”

“Do the LEN have guns?”

“No.”

Augustus added, “You may abuse the LEN as much as you wish. They’ll enjoy it.”

Farragut darted Augustus a glare. (“Belay that.”)

(“Aye, sir.”)

It was the first time Farragut could remember Augustus calling him
sir
. And in English yet; not for show in front of the Archon. Just between Augustus and Farragut.
Sir.

Donner sulked, “The LEN have a ridiculous-looking ship.”

“They do,” Farragut had to agree. The spheroid LEN golf ball lacked the belligerent charm of
Merrimack
.

“Your vessel commands respect.”

“She’s a brute,” said Farragut with satisfaction.

Farragut had used the pronoun she-beloved. Intentional. Did not escape Donner’s notice.

“You will leave when?”

Farragut demurred. He was not about to tell the alien he had a flight in trouble. Answered only, “Shortly.”

Augustus asked Donner, “Have you ever lost a ship traveling between planets?”

The question—or the poser of it—took Donner aback. The Archon answered, sharply, to Captain Farragut. “No.”

(“He’s lying,”) said Augustus. (“I know.”) Farragut heard it. The answer was too quick, too adamant.

And, seized by a fit of coughing, Donner told Farragut he was done talking. Bade him go now, and take his LEN with him.

Back aboard
Merrimack
, Farragut turned to his IO and demanded, “How are the Myriadians getting between planets?”

“Transportation is one of Donner’s high cards. He won’t be giving that one away. It’s a tightly guarded government secret. It’s not stored anywhere I can access it.”

“Augustus already has it.” That was Lieutenant Colonel Steele, waiting in the displacement bay for his captain’s return. “He’s just not telling.”

Augustus smiled coldly. “Lieutenant Colonel Steele, you’re not even an educated man, so what is your grudge? You were never forced to learn Latin for your trade. Unless higher education is required for bashing heads these days?”

Farragut ran interference. “Colonel Steele is concerned that you’ll get into Mack’s computer and take over my ship.”

“I can’t do that,” said Augustus.

Farragut looked to Steele for a riposte.

“You can’t be sure,” said Steele.

Farragut’s blue eyes returned to Augustus, like following a tennis volley.

“If it’s so jolly possible, flattop, then
you
shove your brain in there and make her open fire on Palatine,” Augustus suggested.

Eyes back to Steele. “TR?”

Steele had nothing to answer that.

So Farragut returned to the problem of breaking Donner’s secrets. “Augustus, if I get you access to one of Donner’s military computers, would you be able to find the pattern?”

Augustus frowned. “Those antique computers have no remote access. It would have to be a physical attachment with a cable. And the Myriadian buses are deathly slow. I think it’s a 256-bit data bus. Be like trying to suck Lake Superior through a straw. I can’t stay awake that long.”

“What can you get me?”

“Tac detected a scheduled flight blasting off for the Rea system. The ship is passing the fifth planet of the Arra system as we speak—at a phenomenal seventy-five percent c.” Irony there. The Arran ship was crawling. “I could put a tail on it, see how the Myriadians expect to complete that trip in less than fifty-seven years.”

“Do it.”

“Requires my using one of Steele’s Swift flights.”

Captain Farragut turned to the commander of the Marines. “TR, lend us some dogs?”

Steele balked. “Last soldier that Roman commandeered ended up breathing in a goldfish pond.”

“At least I didn’t
lose
her,” Augustus returned fire. Drew blood on that one. “I’m pretty sure the Marine I commandeered is the only member of Alpha Flight currently accounted for.”

Farragut teed his palms to break off that discussion before it turned to fists. “Any thoughts on the disappearance of Alpha Flight, Augustus?”

BOOK: The Myriad: Tour of the Merrimack #1
7.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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