Leaving Paradise, page 28
Afterwards Zenan retired to a cabin in the living quarters and rested. He changed his clothes back into his standard attire and was only disturbed from his drowsiness by a person. An excited shout of, ‘Soldier don't just lie there!’ woke him. He thought there was something familiar in the voice. It was Yudia!
‘So, after your holiday on Beouswera, you finally decided to catch up with the real warriors,’ she joked, as she lay on the bed, and playfully sat on top of him. She was flushed with happiness and looked wonderful.
‘You haven't heard?’ Zenan asked, looking up at her beautiful face.
He explained what happened on Beouswera. She rolled off, shocked.
‘My poor brother,’ she said. ‘You've seen more action than me, and I’m a pilot of a warship. Of all the things I ever imagined you doing, killing was not one of them but if sweet you are capable, then anyone is.’
Zenan asked ‘are you a good pilot? Do you twist and turn? Do you find your target and hit it every time?’
‘I'm good. We all are. We have seen screens of the Regulian tactics... well, the last ones which are available from the Clax survivors. It won't be easy, but we'll do it, and even if we don’t it will take years for them to reach our home. I’m in a joint AI controlled craft.’
‘Be careful my darling, I love you so much,’ Zenan said.
‘I love you, too. My unit will form the second wave; after the first wave of ships attack, which will be entirely AI controlled.’
‘What about after the fight?’
‘After the war,’ she corrected. ‘An endless lifetime of peace and contemplation, sexual adventures and relaxation; perhaps I will develop a taste for combat.’
‘I hope not. There are far more worthy tastes.’
‘We'll see.’
They played one another on a game of space combat. Yudia comprehensively defeated Zenan. A feat he was very pleased by. He desperately wanted her to live. They lay on the bed and he started by kissing her neck and ears while she giggled. They kissed one another all over and used their tongues to explore one another’s bodies. He could not believe it might be the last time he would ever see or make love to his great friend. He savoured every moment and delighted in every taste of her exquisite body. Afterwards they lay entwined, and he was only disappointed when she said she would have to get up for training soon. They showered together, grinning and it took all their will power not to be intimate again.
They left to have another drink and passed the time chatting in a bar, before she was required for a meeting on tactics. He contacted No Turning Back and asked if it knew where Vas was. It told him he had left on a transport back to Alsouartisca. He said thanks and wished it a good life. It told him it was disappointed not to be a fighting ship but as the first and only smart ship to have travelled to Beouswera it was happy with all it had helped to achieve.
He looked forward to meeting the Clax. They were alien life as he expected it to be; not humans inhabiting all worlds. The people he had met were alien in their minds but the Clax would be alien both physically and culturally. It was explained to him that the allies they would meet were endeavouring to learn Larine. The alliance between themselves and the aliens showed the possibility of alliances between different species.
Zenan accompanied Sadjika, Telre, Kani, and the elected Co-Ordinator of the Liberation; a woman called Dersia, as well as two male co-ordinators from other vessels. The transport left the hangar of the Carrier warship and weaved through their craft to their allies’ fleet.
Dersia was as tall as Zenan, with long shiny black hair, a perfect smile and a tanned complexion. She was full of confidence and gave advice on how to behave in front of the Clax. She was highly excited to be visiting them again. The transport arrived in the hangar of the large, dark Clax command craft, called Vengeance. They were greeted by a ceremonial guard of warriors. Zenan was struck by the warmth and the light of the interior of the craft. Their allies were cold-blooded and required light and heat to warm their bodies to perform effectively. He thought the Clax looked wonderful; they were genuinely alien, yet they could talk and were organised creatures with a cultural sophistication equal in many ways to his civilisation. With the influx of knowledge from the Fra' Kht 'Lc, their military craft were on a par with much of the Alsouartiscan forces. What they found impossible to match was the massive productive capacity of his civilisation.
Zenan thought they were fantastic. They were taller than him. He wondered what they felt like and what their females looked like; would he even recognise the difference? He found their demeanour formal but understandably so. Yet their culture, at least as regarding their contact with humans was tolerant, and he had been told they forgave social indiscretions. He was introduced along with Sadjika as 'the most widely travelled Alsouartiscans to have existed.' He supposed it was true, but found it embarrassing.
They were escorted out of the large hangar and through a long, wide and tall dark red corridor towards an elevator. Kani was most impressed with the size and design of the craft. Once the doors re-opened they were escorted into a large hall. The design and colourings were unlike anything Zenan had seen before, and he felt overwhelmed at the alien look of the ship and large hall. They were shown to seats and told it was traditional to eat a good meal before battle. He felt more comfortable when seated and admired the look of the place.
The Clax seated next to him, in the eating hall was called a complex name, which he allowed to be abbreviated to 'Trafars'. ‘You have fought many battles then? You are an illustrious warrior for your... kin?’ Trafars asked.
‘I have killed yes... I took no pleasure in it.’
To be thought of as a warrior he supposed was correct. Him a warrior! He was so far, the biggest murderer in centuries.
‘I live to avenge the blood of my kin against the Regulians.’
Zenan looked at the hairless face of the Clax. ‘I can understand such sentiments... if I lost my-’
‘Your mate?’ Trafars suggested.
‘I have many mates,’ Zenan explained.
‘Your customs are peculiar to me... I try to understand, but they are... alien.’
‘Your grasp and pronunciation of Larine are fabulous. You must have practised a lot?’
‘Yes Zenan. I practised for a long time,’ he said in a rasping voice.
They were interrupted by the Clax leader. He was a large male, wearing a blue tunic with many crystals on display which Zenan knew were the battles he had fought in and won. He glanced at his tail. It was quite short and stubby.
‘My allies, your fleet is nearly assembled. It is most impressive. In only a short time we will go together in war against a common foe. This alliance I hope will last forever, yet you ask for little in return, which vexes us. You wish to have dominion over the persons we fight against, to perhaps attempt to mould them into versions of yourself.... I do not know whether such a development is possible, though it is certainly desirable. Together we will fight to the death against the murderous Regulians. Our union will forever be remembered in the annals of our history, that you would aid us puts us forever in your debt. There are perhaps many hostile species out in our small part of the galaxy and to know we have allies such as you cheers us.’
The Clax representative gave way to Dersia to speak on behalf of her people.
‘Your Excellency, thank you for your kind words. The boundaries between our races have been crossed. There is indeed a common foe; an imperialist aggressor, who carries out genocide as a policy. With such enemies we will react as mercilessly as we would against a lethal disease. We will hunt out the sickness and vanquish it for all eternity, no matter where it hides. There is no escape from our desire to fight such creatures and their beliefs wherever we uncover them. To their future generations who we will help lead into a new way of life, such memories will appear to them as horrifying as they are to now in the present to us. This union between us is the way forward and is as stable as the light from the sun and we can only say onwards to victory! Let the Clax and our people long help one another.’
Zenan listened to Dersia's words and agreed. When the formal meal was over, they stood up and mingled. He approached Sadjika and asked; ‘who goes on the craft to contaminate the Regulians?’
‘There are several volunteers available. All are keen and committed. All candidates are equally valid, so the chosen one will be randomly selected early tomorrow, and they will depart soon after,’ she explained. ‘Dersia is the human in charge of the infiltration.’
‘I will speak to her,’ he calmly stated.
He explained to Dersia his desire and experience and she replied, ‘your candidacy can be considered when we return to the Liberation. However, you have already contributed enough to our cause. No more is required of you. It is near enough a suicide mission. I question the validity of it succeeding at all. We will further discuss it when we return to the Liberation. Can we leave it until then?’
He agreed and looked for his comrades. He found Telre and Kani together, chatting to a large Clax, which to him looked very similar to the others of its kind in the eerily lit room. He remembered the acute sensitivity of their sense of smell. At a natural break in the conversation between the small group he explained how he was going to volunteer for the mission. Kani and Telre met his statement with surprise and bewilderment, while the Clax admitted he regarded the mission as ' sneaky'.
Zenan shook his head and said to the Clax called Hurum who was a Weapons Officer on-board the Clax command craft, ‘the Regulians would treat your species as they did, and you question the use of a viral attack?’
‘It seems deceitful and treacherous... they are also your kin. Do you not feel affinity for them, despite what your representatives say formally?’
‘No. We do not,’ replied Telre.
‘We will defeat them with all the weapons we have at our disposal; viral, chemical, beam weapons... including fusion weapons if necessary, and any weapons we have developed which I am unfamiliar with,’ explained Zenan.
Hurum’s facial expression remained indecipherable and his silence prompted Telre to say; ‘I think Zenan is demonstrating our commitment to total defeat of the Regulians... we would hope not to use either chemical or fusion weapons.... and viral agents would only be used in the strictly controlled environments of spacecraft, not indiscriminately on a world.’
‘Obviously,’ agreed Zenan.
‘Our code is different to yours,’ admitted the Clax. ‘But if our different methods and tactics are used to achieve the same aim it is of no matter to us. I wish to expunge any prejudices I have in our contact with you.’
Zenan averted his eyes from the four limbs on Hurum’s chest, as he did not want to stare at them. The upper limbs ended in small three 'fingered' hands with claws on the upper pair, and larger limbs on the lower pair.
The single Clax he asked about the Fra' Kht 'Lc confessed her lack of knowledge of them. When she told him she was female, he could discern no physical difference between her and a male of the species. She informed him. ‘If you could smell what I could, you would know the difference.’
He wished her and her people every success in the battle. When he left the Clax craft and returned in the transport he felt there were still thousands of questions to ask about their allies. He eagerly awaited the first full translations of their history and organisation.
Back on board the Liberation, Sadjika asked Dersia about the viral mission against the Regulians.
‘I'll say what each of the volunteers was told,’ Dersia said: ‘If selected you would travel alone into the heart of the Regulian battle fleet. They may blast you into debris as soon as you approach. If you manage to board one of their craft intact, then you will have to hope they do not discover you as the source of the virus while they are still conscious. We hope the virus strikes them down before they discover the correlation. Chances of survival are unpredictable, even though you will have the antidote. If, for whatever reason when the joint attack is launched the ship you are on is not incapacitated then you and it risk being destroyed. If the plan works, and you land on an important battle ship, with the flow of personnel between the ships, you could disable numerous craft of theirs. We will send in Sentinels to rescue the volunteer as soon as we attack.’
All were silent as Dersia outlined the mission.
Zenan replied, ‘as I said to Sadjika I am willing to do it. The chance to destroy many of the enemy, while simultaneously saving many of my people is an essential task.’
‘Why don't you just send a Sentinel in a craft, or an empty craft with the virus on board?’ asked Kani.
‘We are hoping when the Regulian see another person piloting a ship they will feel a degree of sympathy and curiosity. A mechanical occupant would perhaps not illicit such feelings, an empty ship might be suspected of being a trap. It is a question of increasing the chances of success. There are no guarantees,’ Dersia explained.
Back in his cabin, Zenan was surprised and happy to see Yudia asleep in the bed. He undressed and sat next to her, contemplating his future. If he closed his eyes then apart from the lack of a window, and the smaller size of the room, he could easily have believed he was in home back on his home-world.
He sat and imagined what would happen if the Regulians defeated their joint forces and arrived at their home world. He imagined Dertuisc or Yudia, or any woman or man being ordered what to do. Forced to become a tool of another, the thought of punishments made him dizzy; being shipped off to work camps to slave away to some brutal exploiter. He imagined the smart AIs of his world being murdered or altered, the productive forces of Alsouartisca being turned over to Regulian ownership, and being used to generate wealth for them, the free animals of his world slaughtered and abused by hordes of merciless soldiers, as if they were no more than commodities along with wholesale looting and destruction. Implementation of laws, repression of sexual freedom, restriction of knowledge, being forced to work for what they needed and what belonged to every person as a natural right. The creation of a slave-owning, hierarchical and elitist perverted society, where some had to kneel before another in a position of power, he squeezed his fists, pressed his nails into the palms of his hands in rage at the possibility of what the Regulians could do to them. He felt his face tense, his jaw lock, and an awesome determination to do what was necessary to defeat them. The Regulians might simply wish to kill his whole people. He was willing to risk his life to prevent such a monstrous catastrophe. He could not imagine his people would submit to such an alien rule after centuries of peace and happiness.
Yudia awoke. ‘Is that you back?’
‘Yes, it's me.’
‘I'm so tired... endless manoeuvring in the combat sims... my head's spinning.’ She looked at him, in the bare light. ‘You look upset.’
‘I've volunteered for the viral mission,’ he said softly.
‘You shouldn't go on that, you've done enough.’
She opened the covers for him to join her. Her bare body was hot and comforting. He curled up on his side, facing away from her. He felt her large breasts push into his back, her feet touch his, and she wrapped one of her arms over his stomach. He felt no sexual desire. All he wondered was if this would be the final time he felt anyone next to him. His fear gradually dissipated in her loving embrace and eventually he fell asleep.
He dreamt that night. The dreams were not pleasant. He was in a world of blood. He was on Beouswera and saw the faces of the people he killed. In his dreams they begged to be saved, for him to spare him. He did not speak to them. He did not listen. He killed them. Nia came to him in his dreams after the violence. She was alive and happy, but as they were talking, she disappeared into a pool of blood, feet first, until only her head remained. He couldn't reach out to stop her from leaving, and her eyes, were wide and shocked as the blood filled her mouth and she died.
He woke up, breathing heavy. The dream of Nia seemed only just over. He couldn't feel the reassuring body of Yudia. He floundered for several seconds, until he heard her come back into the cabin from the shower. ‘You were fighting last night... in your dreams. I held you as tightly as I could,’ she explained.
‘Thanks. I'm glad I'm sharing a room with you.’
‘I’m so glad you are here as well. Are you still going ahead with your crazy idea?’
‘I'm hoping I'll be selected,’ he replied. Looking at her in her uniform, he thought it didn't suit her.
‘It's a courageous act,’ she admitted. ‘But, I want you to live, to be here for everyone you know and everyone you will ever know. I don’t want you to do this. Zenan Seventy-Nine is a special person... this is all so confusing...I want you to be around for the rest of my life.’
‘Do you think I would enjoy living knowing you had died near here, never to see you again,’ he replied. ‘There are others who may go instead.’
‘But I won't die. I'm a quality pilot,’ she protested. ‘The AI with me would never forgive itself!’
‘Come here,’ he said, opening his arms to her. She walked forward, sat on the bed, and they hugged. He rested his head on her shoulder. ‘I love you. Whatever happens... if anything does, just remember me for that, as I would you,’ he said.
‘If I didn't know you better I might feel insulted you would think I was so shallow as to ever forget you, my lovely friend and adorable lover,’ she whispered, moving her head into his chest. She lifted her head up. ‘Listen, this is pre-emptive. You haven't even been chosen yet. I can't see why they'd pick you anyway!’ She said, smiling brightly. She leant forward, kissed his luscious lips and then on his forehead. ‘I've got to dash there’s always more simulation practise!’ And she was gone.
Zenan washed, dressed and made his way to the distribution point on the floor he was on. He couldn't grasp the size of the ship from the inside but was impressed. He was shown hangars far bigger than the whole of the SSV he had travelled on, let alone the prototype. Hangars with small fighters lined up like trees planted in straight lines. The ships looked so weak and insignificant, and he knew Yudia would be flying one of them. He heard a call for him to go to forward area, level five, compartment G9. He took an elevator, and walked along several corridors, until he was outside a white door with the right code on. Sadjika and Telre were present, and he was introduced to several other crew members concerned with this mission.
