Chapter 6
Marlon did not speak to me the next day. He had the HuTA programmed with extra difficult lessons and sat across the room glaring at me while I went through them, then took the tests. I decided to pay attention and pass the tests just to annoy him more. He scoffed when the HuTA announced the score.
"Lesson 517-23a!" he barked from across the room.
"Educator key input, please," the HuTA requested.
He sighed and stomped over. He took his key and inserted it into the back of the HuTA. On my old model it would have been a six digit entered code that changed monthly. The programmers must have figured out how easy that was for a child to bypass. On the new one, a DNA key had to be inserted and scanned. There was no cheating that, unless you were lucky enough to get your hands on the key. I had a vague idea where Marlon lived, and I was pretty sure my high security clearance would get me in. I entertained the idea of swiping his key in the middle of the night.
However, passing the tests was proving to be a far better revenge than cheating. I knew Lynette ripped him a new one. She looked smug, another look Ashnahta often wore herself. To be honest, it's not a bad look on a girl. She gave me her lesson plan for the day. Presidents, of course, hammered home over and over until I nailed them all.
"At least you won't start a war now," she said when I passed. "Now. If you don't want the entire teenage girl sector gunning for you, let's get back to pop culture."
"Is it really that important?"
She scoffed, still riding the high of her victory over Marlon. He was not allowed access to any terminal, or even his holo, for an entire week. Torture for him, absolute victory for her. "Jake. We've got a war of public opinion on our hands. You need to be as normal a teenager as possible."
"But what could I possibly be expected to know about movie stars?" It was absolutely absurd. It still is. I still can't wrap my head around any importance to it at all.
"You need to relate, Jake. Relate. You need to prove as many similarities as possible. Some would think it's cute you don't know. Others would want to educate you. I'm not exactly sure what Christophe has in mind, but let's just be prepared for all possibilities, okay? Besides," she said, shooting Marlon a look that made me bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling. "He's just waiting to take over your lessons for the day. Now. Who is Ky Ty Tinton?"
I'll hand it to her, she dragged it out as long as she could. I still can't tell you who Ky Ty Tinton is, though. I don't remember if he's a singer or an actor. It's a dumb name. I can tell you that much.
They all seemed to have dumb names, the "pop icons", as she called them. Ky Ty? Seriously? How about this one: Parupa McGee. She had purple hair on half her head and the other half was shaved completely bald. There was a guy who was in movies named just D. No last name. No real first name. D. He had metal sticking through his ears, nose, and lip. And in every picture I saw, he was sneering. He looked like he wanted to rip your face off. Lynette insisted that's why girls liked him, that he was a "bad boy".
"Then they should stay away."
"Which is exactly why they don't! Every girl likes a bad boy, Jake."
I didn't get it. It was too much. And the music was painful. Jagged razors scraping across a broken mirror would have sound better. Though, to be fair to music in general, there are many different styles. None of them matched the insongs of the Ehkin, though. Or even the war calls of the Qitani.
Lynette dragged the lessons on as long as she reasonably could. By that time, Marlon was almost frothing. He put his code in for the difficult lessons, and got exactly the response he wanted. Not from me, from Ralph.
"Come on, kid," Ralph chided. "Ease up. He's not ready for that stuff yet."
"It's the lesson of the day," Marlon said firmly.
"So you're going to take out the fact that you got busted on him? Is that your game?"
Marlon scoffed. "This isn't a game. That fah'ti code was my ticket up, and tattle tale baby pants there had to run to his little girlfriend and ruin it."
"Marlon!" Lynette's anger was unmistakable.
"Your time's up. Don't you have some class to go to?"
"It's fine, Lynette," I said. "Ralph, it's okay. I'll give it a shot. Who knows? Maybe I'll do better than you think." I smiled pleasantly at Marlon.
He scoffed. "Fat chance, space monkey." He twisted the screen around and gave me a smug look as he plunked in the squishy sofa to watch me fail.
And he slammed the monitor around even harder when I passed.
And he gave up and simply left in a snarling fury when I went on to pass the next lesson as well. I waited for the door to close before I turned to Ralph. "You know, if he really wanted to humiliate me, he should have picked something other than biometric calculations. I've been doing Stefan's for years."
Ralph snorted and shook his head at me. "Nice job, kid. He's a smart guy, but boy does he have a chip on that shoulder of his."
"He's indentured," I said. It didn't matter how much of a jerk he was. I couldn't help feeling at least a little bad for him. My childhood wasn't normal, but at least it was safe. At least I was loved. As weird as it was, I didn't regret it or long for a different past.
"Yeah. I know. It's the only reason I've given him as much slack as I have. You know he'll push you harder tomorrow, right?"
I shrugged. "I'll just listen to the lessons."
"For once." Ralph's grin let me know he always knew the score.
I got up and stretched and looked at the time. Four and a half hours. It was the longest I had actually studied anything through a HuTA in years. My stomach growled and it occurred to me it was about dinner time. And then it occurred to me that our team was not there. We'd been eating every meal with them all week. "Where is everyone?"
"We've got a different schedule tonight. Christophe's back and we're going to eat with him and Reginald. Jillian delivered our new suits. What say we get gussied up and pretend we have good manners for once?"
I smiled and headed to my room. My new suit waited on my bed all laid out for me. I could picture Jillian pouring over every little detail while laying it out, making it look absolutely perfect. I stood and looked down at it and sighed heavily.
StarTech colors are grays, maroons, and greens, in different combinations. As I said, position and rank get their own uniforms. Sometimes the sleeves are green, others have green and maroon striping. You get the idea. From the start Christophe said he wanted understated and simple, but definitely StarTech. I looked at the uniform and shook my head. She got the StarTech part right. As to the rest, that was up for debate.
The main color was gray, and I suppose if there was anything to be happy about, it was that. The pants had green striping down the sides, with maroon utility strapping around the waist. I put the pants on and looked in the mirror. I'm not a fashion expert, but they didn't look too bad. They fit well. And were comfortable. All in all, I could live with them. In stark contrast, the top of the uniform was ridiculously complicated. I struggled to get it on and then just stared at myself in the mirror, not really believing what I was seeing. The waist was tight, but the top ballooned out and ended in a high, tight maroon collar adorned with stars. There were green shoulder pads with the golden ST pins on both sides and maroon fringe dangling off. A sash went from one shoulder, across the poofy chest, and secured onto the waist of the shirt with a bow. A bow.
"Ralph!" I bellowed.
The only thing funnier than my uniform was Ralph's. It was not the same. As Reginald explained later while he tried admirably not to laugh, Jillian wanted to represent Ralph's military rank as well as his StarTech status.
We both marched up to Reginald's fuming.
Not marched, really. Ridden smoothly up the series of elevators. And not fuming, so much as comically outraged. There was nothing any one of them could say to get us to wear these uniforms in public. It was never even an option.
"Just what was that woman thinking?" Ralph demanded, the long tassels at his
waist shaking.
Christophe was drinking a cocktail on the couch and seemed unfazed by it all. "It honestly would be warmly received by the press Earthside."
"Then let the press wear it." Ralph unbuttoned the shirt and took it off. He held it out to Reginald, who looked to Christophe. Christophe gave a small nod, and Reginald called for his bot Charles.
"Yes, sir? Are we ready to dine?"
"Not yet, Charles. The guests have just arrived. Please take their coats."
"Yes, sir. Hang them?"
"Burn them," he said with a laugh, grabbing my shirt. "The pants don't look so bad," he said.
"I like mine," I said.
"Good. Then we'll just need to, uh, rework these." He gave them to Charles. "Are you cold?"
We stood in the pants and plain white tee shirts. We were fine, and he dismissed Charles and motioned for us to sit on the couches with Christophe.
"So much for being fancy and pretending we have manners, eh?" Ralph whispered.
"No secrets in this room, gentlemen." Christophe sipped his drink. It always amazed me how cool he was, how in charge, in control. He even outshone Reginald. As the "public face of the company" as Jillian put it, I suppose that's how he had to be. Still, he pulled it off so well. In the room with both of them, anyone would think Christophe was the boss of StarTech.
"I was just telling him that we're not adjusting well to the fancy life," said Ralph.
"Ah. Yes. Well, you will." Reginald offered Ralph a cocktail and me a drink without alcohol. He poured them himself, then sat with us. "So tell me, Jake. How's Utopia treating you?"
"Good." It was a lame answer, but what else could I say?
"I saw Marlon tried to show you up in front of Lynette." He gave me a little smirk as he sat back. "Don't look surprised. I already told you I know everything that goes on around here. Besides, there's no way he can hack my system without being noticed."
"What's this?" Christophe asked.
"Marlon tried to get in on the fah'ti project."
Christophe rolled his eyes. "Will he never learn? What's it this time?"
Reginald shrugged. "Just a week." At Christophe's look, Reginald laughed. "Don't look at me like that. It did no harm."
"This time."
"Completely different from last year. And we did learn that young master Cosworth here has been holding out on us."
Huh? "I haven't been holding out anything."
"You never told us you can read Qitani."
Christophe's eyebrow quirked again. From him, that was an enormous gesture. "Interesting."
"I wasn't holding out. You never asked. Besides, most of what I looked at I couldn't read."
"Not true," said Ralph. "You couldn't understand it. That's not the same."
I suddenly felt like I was in the hot seat. "Well...whatever. I don't know what it means, so it can't help."
"You can speak it, too," said Christophe. He was giving me that look again. I wondered if he was trying to inspeak. It felt... I don't know how it felt. It was unnerving. His gaze was piercing and felt like it cut right through me. "Don't get uncomfortable, Jake," he said quietly. "I'm just trying to figure you out." He sat forward suddenly, and placed his drink on the table. He tented his hands, like Reginald, and tapped his lips with his forefingers. "I just returned from Earth. Do you know what I was doing there?"
I shrugged and shook my head.
"Feeling out the public. Testing the waters. A little whisper here, a little rumor starting there."
"We said we need this to be the right time," explained Reginald. "What we didn't say is that it actually is the right time. Christophe was gathering intel."
"To?"
"To see if they'll be receptive to your existence."
It was blunt. Oddly, it hurt. I know it shouldn't. I was there, alive, a person whether they were receptive or not. Besides, I hadn't exactly had warm and fuzzy feelings towards them, either. Still...
"And?" asked Ralph.
"And it was positive," said Reginald quickly. "Christophe just likes the drama. It's positive."
"By and large."
They still looked tense, though. "Isn't that a good thing?" I asked.
"Yes. Very. Which is why I went ahead and leaked some information." Reginald tapped his fingers on his glass.
"What kind of information?" asked Ralph, sitting forward in his seat.
"A rumor about Jake, of course. A highly confidential StarTech document, one that proves that Eunice and Lance Cosworth were never properly sterilized."
I didn't know what to say. Why leak it? Why make it seem shady like that? Why not just come right out and...and...
And what. Drop me in the middle of the world and say "Look everyone! Here he is! A star boy!" It would not be believed. They all knew it. I felt like an idiot that it took me so long to figure out. I was not going to burst onto the scene. Instead I was going to be slowly leaked until StarTech had to fess up.
"What are you going to tell them when they ask why StarTech is just turning over the intel now? I thought you had an agreement to have all documents overseen by the governments?"
Reginald, too, had that look of conspiracy. "Of course they were given over when they were supposed to be. And that, I can actually prove. I'd fake it if I had to, but it's awful nice when I don't have to." He gave a laugh. "I've had a team combing through all our old turn overs to look for anything we could use, and as it turns out, these documents were filed, and filed properly, along with a warehouse of other documents highlighting every detail of StarTech's history."
"We assume that's what the conspiracy theories have been based on. Someone took the time to look through all the millions of documents, so you know they had to be nuts." Christophe was almost smiling.
Ralph shook his head. "Well son of a..."
"Brilliant, isn't it?" Reginald grinned at us. "They had the proof all along. It was just too boring to bother with. So that's our in. We leaked that. And then, we leaked a few other details, just to offer a little credibility, and a few names."
"Who?" Ralph suddenly sounded worried.
"Relax, Ralph," Reginald said. "If there's trouble for anyone directly, it will be me."
"I just don't want any of the team that stayed here to..." His words trailed off. Christophe looked away. Reginald cleared his throat. And Ralph quietly drank his drink. To Ralph, he had been gone sixteen years. In his mind, he should still have friends on Earth. Family. In reality, anyone he knew before he left was probably dead. I never thought of his life before the stars. It just never occurred to me. I wanted to say something to him, to comfort him or at least sympathize, but what could I say?
"As I said," Reginald continued carefully. "The names will only lend credibility, not cause any trouble."
"Where do we go from here?" Ralph recovered quickly. He always did. Maybe it was his military training.
"Now, we wait. We wait until it's picked up by the mainstream news, and then we leak a little more. We make it look like the pressure is building on us. And then we wait for the right news source to ask the right question, and we stage a press conference from Utopia."
"And then we go to Earth," I said, feeling the weight of the impending journey suddenly fill me.
Reginald laughed. "It's not a death sentence, Jake!"
"Besides," said Christophe. "We don't know how the governments will react. We'll need to wait until the press conference and see what happens from there."
I sighed. "Why? Why all this sneaking around? Just tell them 'hey, here's a space kid' and let them deal with it."
Christophe actually smiled at me. "Ah, so simple is the mind of a scientist." I didn't think it was a compliment. "We can't. People do not work that way."
"Lena accepted me just fine. So did Lynette and Jillian. Heck, even Marlon."
"Yes, they did. They are individuals. Jake, you have not had much call to deal with societies. I have. A person is easy to reason with. People are not. A group is not. A pop
ulation is not. Fears of one intensify the fears of another. It's called 'mob mentality' and I shall have your HuTA run a program for you." I must have made a face. "Believe it or not, Jake, there are times when I myself need a HuTA lesson. The more you know, the better. It's not something I am doing to you, it is something I am doing for you."
Reginald sighed. "Cut the kid some slack, Chris. He's had a rough day with Marlon."
"And you said he did well. I don't see how it's that difficult."
"Must you always be business? Let's have a nice relaxing dinner. I promise it won't kill you."
Christophe and Reginald sat staring at each other for a moment. If I didn't know better, I would have said the were inspeaking. Ralph once told me that he spent so many years working in tight quarters with Dad that they could do an entire job without speaking once, they just knew how the other would think and act. Maybe that's the same thing between Christophe and Reginald.
"You're right, Reginald. I'm exhausted anyway. That day jump is rough."
"I still can't believe you can get from Mars to Earth in a day."
Reginald laughed. "Said the man who travels to other galaxies on a whim!"
Ralph laughed with him. "Fair enough. But I had wormholes."
Reginald sighed with a smile. "I can't wait to jump, to really jump."
"Reginald," Christophe said in a warning tone. I even noticed Ralph's eyebrow twitch at that one.
Reginald rolled his eyes. "We've had this discussion. As soon as it's safe..."
"And what is 'safe'?" Christophe leaned forward and put his glass down harder than necessary. He was angry. His face held the same calm look, but his eyes were very, very angry. "Ralph. How many years passed for you on the Condor?"
"About sixteen, give or take."
"Are you sure?"
Ralph gave a little chuckle that died. "Well, that's what we figure. Look at the kid. He's a pretty good calendar." For some reason, I began to feel uncomfortable. "Or is he?"
Reginald put his hand on Chrisophe's arm and gave a little shake of his head as soon as Christophe glanced over.
"What's do you mean by that?" I asked.
"Let's just have a nice evening tonight. Mea culpa, I should have stayed clear of shop talk."
"What does he mean by that, Ralph?" I felt an unreasonable panic set in.
"I mean," said Christophe, ignoring Reginald, "that the doctor's reports indicate...anomalies."
Anomalies. I knew the term. Mother used it on a daily basis to explain away anything her science didn't already know. Anomalies were for misshapen life forms. Anomalies were for a hidden star we hadn't charted. Anomalies were for algae that did not develop along classic evolutionary paths. Anomalies were not people.
Ralph tensed, too. He sat forward and a little closer to me on the couch. Protective. That should have made me feel better. Instead, it made me sure there was something to worry about. "We never detected any anomalies."
"And you wouldn't, would you? Ralph, I have devoted extensive hours to the study of wormholes, and I believe you two are living proof of a theory I've always held."
"Oh here we go now," Reginald said with a sigh. "Get comfy, gentlemen. Once he gears up, there's no stopping him." He drained his glass and motioned to Ralph. Ralph didn't notice, and Reginald grabbed his empty glass and went to refill them while Christophe launched in to his theory.
It was boring science. It all was blah blah in my head. Get to the anomaly part, my mind screamed! I don't care about relativity. I don't care about prolonged effects of theoretical so and such on experimental hogwash. What did the find about me?!
But I couldn't cut in. I didn't want to. Ralph was deep in the conversation, asking questions, nodding to the answers, joining in. I should have listened. Ralph told me as much later when we talked it all over.
"You should have been listening. You're not a kid anymore. You've got to learn this stuff, too."
I looked to Reginald. He calmly picked something off his suit coat and sipped his drink. He wasn't worried. Whatever anomaly it was, Reginald didn't think he needed to worry about it. That was something. That made me feel a little better. I looked around the fancy office and let my mind wander. They babbled on and on through another drink, and when Reginald got up to refill his glass yet again, he grabbed mine as well and gave me more of whatever it was I was drinking.
"The point is," Christophe said loudly, drawing my attention. It was the first time I almost heard him yell. "The point is," he said more calmly. "The potential long term side effects cannot be ignored. You've gone through wormhole after wormhole. You must at least concede the possibility that nature is waiting for you."
Ralph sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He took a long swig of his drink then whistled. "Fine. I mean, since we don't know, I suppose I have to concede the possibility. If that's true, I'm pretty much screwed."
"And Christophe here is just exercising his science a little too freely these days," said Reginald in an almost warning tone, the same tone Dad used with me when I was getting close to stepping out of line. Not yelling, not exactly a reprimand, but a soft threat nonetheless. "Ralph. You have my word of honor that if I saw any indication that your medicals were anomalous, you'd be the first to know." Ralph looked as skeptical as I felt. "Honestly," Reginald repeated. "What would I have to gain by hiding it? The scientific data alone would have us all jumping like kangaroos with excitement!" He laughed.
Ralph gave a little chuckle. "Uh, thanks?"
"Oh, don't take it personally. Of course we value you as an individual. But you have to admit that your value to...well...all of humanity lies largely in what you've seen, what you've learned, what you know...and what we can see and learn and know from studying you."
Ralph had no problem with being an experiment. Of course not. It's exactly what he signed up for. Me? I was still trying to come to terms with it. "I have anomalies," I said.
Reginald didn't answer. Christophe looked at me for a moment before he did. "In all sincerity, Jake, we cannot know if your anomalous biology is a result of wormhole jumping, or simply an effect of having a life mostly in a low gravity situation. From fetus to seven, was it?"
"Was what?"
"The first time you set foot on a planet with gravity. Well, what we would consider real gravity, anyway."
"Yes, he was about seven." I looked at Ralph who was giving me that fatherly half smile. "I can't tell you how hard it was to rig up a space suit for him. And forget a TrekMan. The kid would have fallen out even if we could get him strapped into one leg like we tried. We tied him with belts right to Lance."
"You tied me to Dad?"
"You don't remember? Of course you do. It was the purple people planet."
Christophe quirked an eyebrow. "I don't remember anything in the reports talking about purple people."
"That's because they weren't really people. They were these long worm things," I said. "I didn't know that was the trip. I don't remember being strapped to Dad."
"You were little."
"Tell me about these purple worms."
Ralph told a scientific account, consisting of theoried evolutions, basic cell structure differences, moisture and solar accounts. All the boring things that Christophe ate up like protein mash after a trip soil-side. I prefer to remember it my way. Big purple worms crawled all over the landing site from under rocks that had blueish and greenish tints. It was so murky there that Mother was shocked there was life at all. I remember her going absolutely nuts gathering samples. I don't remember really what she was saying, but I know Mother and my memory fills in the possibilities. "Lance, can you believe the biometric impossibilities" and things like that. I just wanted to touch the purple squiggles. I remember that I couldn't. Now I realize that must have been the straps to Dad. Maybe they were poisonous, thinking back. I had a suit on, so I would have been alright. I just remember wanting to play with them. I wanted one and couldn't get it. And then when I cried to Dad about it later, he sang me a
n old song about purple people. Or something that ate purple people? I never really got it. I do remember.
"I didn't know you were a man of science, Christophe," Ralph said after Christophe asked a very geeky question.
"Christophe is a man of many talents," Reginald said. His eyes were twinkly. Ralph said later that it was because he drank all that alcohol. He seemed very happy and relaxed.
"So why are you the public relations head instead of a squeak?"
"I didn't qualify for the StarTech science program."
Ralph didn't know what to say. "Oh."
"My family couldn't afford it, and weren't willing to indenture me." He gave a small shrug. "What are you going to do, eh? So they handled my schooling enough to get me in the door in the public relations tech center. I worked my way up the old fashioned way. And now my position lets me sit in on any 'squeak' meeting, as you say."
"Nothing wrong with working your way up. I didn't get to be a sergeant in the army without a little work myself."
"Tell that to the squeaks," said Reginald almost bitterly.
"I take it they don't like a press-monkey playing at science?" asked Ralph.
It sounded rude, but Christophe didn't take it that way. In fact, he flashed a quick grin. "You could say that. But there's nothing they can do. There's only one person that outranks me, and he's given me carte blanche."
Reginald pointed to me. "Listen to that, kid. No matter what they say about me on Earth, I'm a fair boss. You do a good job, I give you your due."
Christophe called for Charles.
"Are we ready for dining?" said the bot.
"I think a little food would be wise." He stood and we followed. "This way, please. Reginald, leave the drink."
Reginald put his arm around my shoulders as we walked through a door and down another glass hallway. "I mean it, kid. I'm actually very good to my employees. I don't know why they hate me. My goddamned father, that's why!"
"Reginald, why don't you take the head chair," said Christophe as he smoothly guided Reginald's arm from around my shoulder and pointed him to the table.
It was beautiful. Everything was crystal and glittered like the sands on Purema, the world of crystal and lava Dad had us land on many times, even after it was discovered there was not even a bacteria on the entire small planet. Ralph must have been thinking the same thing.
"Take a holo for your dad of this place," he said.
Dad would love to eat his meals surrounded by crystal. I was glad Ralph told me I could take the pic. Dad would flip when he saw. If we could ever crack the fah'ti and send it, that was. Almost as soon as we sat, the food began.
I couldn't get used to the food. I had lived a life dining on different mashes derived from both the vegetation we grew and waste products that were purified, converted, and enhanced with vitamins. To Ralph and the rest of the crew, it was awful. A price to pay for space travel. But it was all I knew until I was allowed to eat some of the plants that grew on Laak'sa. Those we ate as a novelty. Something new and different. It was never our diet, just a snack, as Ralph said. Suddenly I had to eat all the new food all the time. Real food that needed chewing. Real food that was in no way digested the same way as the mash. Half the pain of the first couple weeks there was my body learning how to constantly break down the chunks and try to pull nutrients from it. It was constant agony in the bathroom. I've since adjusted, at least to that part.
They had me eating meat. That was the hardest adjustment. It was stringy. And tough. And if you didn't chew chew chew until your jaw ached, you wouldn't ever be able to swallow it right. Some meat was better than others. Jillian assured me that the meat on Earth was fresh, and much better. I didn't believe her until the dinner with Reginald and Christophe. We were served a pile of what looked like beef. I sighed and got ready for the chewing chewing chewing, but as soon as I put it in my mouth, I knew it was different from what I had been eating. It took almost nothing to chew it up. And it tasted...well...good. That was the first meal I'd ever had that tasted like I wanted more and more.
"Slow down, kid," Ralph said chuckling.
"This is great!" I was talking with my mouth full. I knew it was rude. "Can I have some more?"
Reginald laughed. "He's a born aristocrat! Charles! Hit us again!"
"...sir?"
"Another round of the tartare for our young friend."
"Yes, sir." The bot sounded grateful for the clarification.
"Don't be rude," Ralph hissed.
I swallowed. "I'm sorry. Thank you." Charles came in with another plate. "What is this called?"
"Tartare. It's uncooked beef in seasonings."
Uncooked. Raw meat. Raw animal? Ashnahta would have been beside herself with anger. But I couldn't stop eating it. After the second plate Ralph gave me the warning look again, so I didn't ask for another. But I'd remember tartare, and if I ever got the chance again, that's what I'd have. Other plates of food were brought, "courses" Ralph told me later, each with more and more different and delicious food. Most of it, anyway. Somewhere in there was a plate of something that looked like phlegm and was hard and rubbery. I ate a few bites to be polite enough to make up for my earlier rudeness, but when I noticed Ralph couldn't eat more than a few bites himself, I put my fork down as well and didn't feel bad.
"I've never been one for escargot either," whispered Reginald loudly.
After the meal we were stuffed. I'd never been so full of food in all my life, not even when Ashnahta and I raided the great kitchen and got sick on too many q'al fruits.
"What's an aristocrat?" I asked, remembering what Reginald said earlier.
"Technically? An archaic, outdated term relating to noble born individuals," said Christophe, wiping his fingers one by one on the fancy napkins. That cleared nothing up. I looked to Ralph.
"Kings and queens, and all the royals under them."
"But I'm not an aristocrat."
"That's just the technical definition. We use the term loosely to sum up a type of individual." It didn't sound very flattering.
"Like me?"
Reginald laughed. He was starting to look very sleepy and I wondered if he would actually nod off right at the table. "Yes, kid. Like you. Like me. Like Christophe here, even, though he wasn't born to it."
"I don't understand."
"Look at the facts, Jakey," said Ralph. It occurred to me later that he had several drinks that night himself. "You're the son of two beloved figures in history."
"They aren't history."
"They are to Earth."
Point. "But they aren't kings or queens."
"Of course not. No one is anymore," said Christophe. "Our royalty is fame. And you'd be hard pressed to find anyone more famous than the Cosworths." I didn't believe him. Mother and Dad were just science geeks, nothing more. "Don't believe me?" Christophe sounded amused. "Currently there are no less than three thousand buildings named after your family."
I laughed at the sheer ridiculousness. "Why would anyone name a building?"
"In honor of the person that built it."
"My parents built buildings?"
"Their money did."
I had heard tidbits already here and there about the money of my family. I had been assured by Jillian I could afford whatever I pleased. I didn't use money. I never had. It was all pretty much gone over my head. "Oh. I, uh, didn't know that. Is that a lot, then?"
Reginald blinked sleepily at me. Ralph just sat staring. And Christophe tipped his head and really studied me for a moment before speaking. "Have you no concept of your homeworld at all?" It was one of those questions you aren't supposed to answer. But I did anyway.
"It is not my home world."
"Yes, it is."
"No!" I didn't want to get angry, spoil the night. "No," I repeated calmly. I was no longer really a child, as Ralph constantly told me. I had to act like an adult. Besides, I had the feeling that Christophe would understand, that he could understand. It was that almost i
nspeaking connection with him, and I decided to trust what I felt. "I understand what you want me to feel. And I know that when I'm down there, that's what they want me to feel."
"Do you understand that?"
"Yes," I said firmly. "Lynette's been pounding it into my head all week. I get it. And I understand how important it will be. But everyone at this table knows the score. I was not born on the Earth. The closest thing I have to a home world is a titanium can in some other galaxy."
Reginald snorted. "Hundreds of billions of dollars and he calls it a can."
"A nice can," I amended. "You keep wanting me to have this connection to a planet I've only sort of heard about, a life I don't understand."
"Lynette should be..."
"She's not the problem! I am. You said there are anomalies in my medic reports. My whole life is an anomaly! I don't understand Earth. I have been jamming my head full of things that to me are just...just..."
"Silly?"
He understood! My instincts were right. I actually felt a rush of relief. Someone finally got it! "Yes. Or if not silly...just not...important. How can I care what happens on one ball in a galaxy that isn't even mine?"
"Jake. Don't start sounding ungrateful," Ralph began.
"No," Christophe cut in. "He's right, Ralph. And we need to know where he stands. Continue." He was using the all business voice, but it was in the eyes again, sympathy, empathy...something that told me to trust him.
"Why does it matter who is a movie star? Do you think they've ever heard of those movies on Laak'sa? Or even presidents. Or governments. Do you realize how inconsequential all the fighting among the governments is in the grand scheme?"
"Here here!" Reginald raised his glass.
"Why do they think it matters? None of it does! Their priorities are all wrong. And I'm sorry, Ralph. I know it's your world and you have always missed it. And maybe I would feel the same if I was from there. But I'm not. I'm from worlds, not just one world. And I know what they do not."
"And what is that?"
"That they are selfish. That they think they are the 'be all and end all' of civilization. They are afraid of other tribes? What makes them worth taking over? Nothing. Nothing I've seen, nothing anyone else would see, either. They conceited and petty and small."
"And that's how you really feel?"
"Part of me." I had to be honest.
Christophe gave a little shrug. "And I can't tell you you're wrong. I wouldn't work for StarTech if I didn't think we, as humans, need a little perspective. Your accusations are completely correct. As an outsider you have been able to come in and see what very few others are able to."
Ralph was stunned by Christophe's words. He sat with his mouth open. Reginald was nodding off for real, now, and just gave a small snort.
"Tell me, Jake. What makes you bond with the Qitani?"
It seemed so unrelated that it threw me for a loop. "I, uh... I don't know."
"Was it just a product of being the first civilization you met?"
"They weren't. There was the Ehkin."
"Ah. And yet, you didn't bond with them."
"I did!" I protested. "I had Little Blob. He was my friend."
Christophe gave a little nod. "Fair enough. But you cannot tell me your bond with him was anything like what you and Ashnahta shared."
I wanted to be done with the conversation. I did not want to talk about Ashnahta. I did not want her brought into a discussion on humanity. It felt so wrong, like a betrayal. But I had to be honest. He knew the truth anyway. "No, it wasn't."
"And why is that? Is it because in her you found more similarities than you did with the Ehkin?"
That was shallow. That was Mother. That was an impossibility. I wasn't like that. I didn't think like that.
"Don't get angry," he soothed. "This is a scientific discussion. Sociology, on a scale we've never been able to discuss."
"I can't help getting angry. You're sitting there saying my friendship with Little Blob wasn't real."
"No. I'm saying it wasn't as deep."
I had to laugh. "I was what? Eleven? Of course it wasn't as deep! I spent four years growing up with Ashnahta." I had him on that one. I know it to my core, even though he didn't concede the point. "Where are you going with this? We were talking about Earth."
"No. We were talking about the bonding, the pull of one person to another. I was simply exploring that link between species, since you say humans are so self absorbed."
"And you agreed with me!"
He gave a small smile. "I did. I was just seeing how far your own bonds went. Now I have a fairly good idea. You'd die to protect Laak'sa if it was invaded, wouldn't you?"
"Of course I would."
"And v-2445?"
"More, since they wouldn't even be able to fight for themselves."
"But you wouldn't for Earth."
I had no response. No, I wouldn't fight for Earth. Not then. But I would have sounded like a real jerk if I said it out loud.
"See, you've been out exploring worlds your entire life, as you say. And you claim to have this deep love and respect for all tribes. And yet, you don't. You'd save them and not us."
"There's no galactic threat. It's not even an issue. Besides, humanity is more advanced." The thought didn't really sit right. It felt as if I was putting down the other tribes. "The other tribes, they haven't gone out yet. Humanity has..." my voice trailed off.
"Has what? An advantage?" He scoffed. "You said yourself that the Qitani and Ehkin, two different species living on two different planets, were in communications with each other. Every citizen of Qitan knows about the Ehkin and accepts them as legitimate members of the universe, and vice versa. They've got the upper hand completely! We, we're all alone. We've got no back up. We don't even have a knowledge that there could be allies out there, only the fear of an enemy."
I hated to admit how valid his points were, so I said nothing. He gave me a lot to think about, though, and I spent a long time after rolling his ideas through my head.
"I can't blame you for your attitude, Jake. And I don't mean to sound angry. I'm telling you how it is from their point of view, our point of view, and how it should be from your point of view. You're human. Like it or not, we are your tribe. And the way to help the rest of your tribe move forward isn't to reject them. It isn't to cast them aside without even giving them a fair chance. Are they silly? Yes. Are the selfish? Well why not? They don't know anyone else, so how can they consider them? Be fair, star traveler. Be fair to the ones that don't hold a tenth of the knowledge that you do.
"Reginald called you an aristocrat. That's how you'll be seen, and it's not exactly a good thing. It carries with it an onus you have not yet begun to understand. Your family name has power. You have wealth you obviously can't even comprehend. You are rich enough to buy an entire city. Some day, you'll know how much that alone sets you apart from the teeming masses. But most importantly, you've got the knowledge. You hold the key, the answers, the future. You want them to stop being selfish? Then it's going to be up to you to tell them of other worlds, other races, other people who are just as beautiful and valid as they are. They can't change until they know there's a reason to. You hold more responsibility to that race, to your race, than any one of them born on the actual planet. If that doesn't define a homeworld, then I don't know what does."
It was a heated speech, the only time I've seen Christophe drop the polished act and just say exactly what he felt. I don't know if he meant it to, but it made me feel like a worm. Not even the pretty purple ones, either. The slime muckers that filled the sulfur riverbeds of v-2445. Ugly, nasty, and above all else, the lowest of the low.
Ralph cleared his throat. "It's a big job and he's doing the best..."
Christophe held up a hand. "Let's call it an evening. I need to consider the wormhole discussions from earlier. I'd be interested in a counterpoint argument with you, Ralph. I am a sucker for this type of science and with so few people on Utopia willing
to trust me..." He let the words trail off, the unspoken part clear.
"Absolutely. It's good to stretch my brain again. Contrary to what it might look like on the cameras, I do know a little more than how to eat chips and watch tv!"
Christophe gave the expected laugh. Ralph tugged on my arm and I stood. Charles appeared to guide us back to our quarters. I couldn't leave it like that. We were almost to the door and I just couldn't leave it like that.
"I don't hate Earth," I said quickly. "I just...I don't understand."
Christophe gave a nod of concession. "Just think it over. We're tiny little pink blobs of ridiculous vulnerability who are desperately ignorant of the scope of the universe around us. Give us a chance."
After I went to my room that night, I lay there digesting the evening and all we had discussed. Christophe's words played over and over in my head and I picked them apart. He wanted me to be more human, to naturally think like a human, to want to save humanity if circumstances made that necessary. I could not imagine that would ever happen. Though I felt badly for thinking less of the capabilities of the Ehkin and Qitani, I couldn't logically see how humanity did not already have major advantages.
Dad won the argument against Mother's desire to dissect one of the "homospacians" because we were big, bad humans, and they were tiny and helpless. I laid on my floor that night and thought about that. Big bad humans. That's how I always thought of us. We had the ships to take us to worlds. We had the knowledge that countless tribes did not. Didn't we?
Maybe Dad was wrong. We didn't land on v-2445 without them knowing. They knew the moment we entered their solar system. We had metal. They had something far more valuable. They greeted us calmly, where we were terrified. Invaders? I always thought, but maybe not. Maybe we were welcome guests. We certainly had little say with the Qitani. They pulled us to them. And yet, all talk on our ship was centered around us being more advanced. Who made the fah'ti that was the key to getting us back to our own galaxy, our solar system, eventually to Earth? Because it wasn't Mother.
Truth be told, it was why the Condor was still going through wormholes and hadn't returned. The original mission was to spend ten years, by ship calendar, and then return with all the knowledge. We could map wormholes, so in theory, if you just backtrack...
As they found out, wormholes don't work like that. There's a tide to them, like a sea, that we never understood until the Qitani explained it. They had a world of knowledge about wormholes. And they had, like us, made jumps and explored. Through trial and error, they unlocked the secret of the tides and, most importantly, how to work with them to get not only to the place you wanted, but the time you wanted as well.
Time. What a funny thing it's always been to understand. I knew Ralph was very worried with Christophe's conversation about medical anomalies in me. I got it, sort of. While I couldn't teach a class on wormholes and their potential long term effect, you can't live in between the geeks and the squeaks and not pick up a thing or two. Somehow a wormhole can send you somewhere. It can also send you sometime. Every time we jumped, Dad would crack jokes about looking younger, feeling sprier. Or tell Mother how much she aged, to my amusement. Or ask Ralph, who's one Earth year older, if he needed a cane. Age jokes. And he'd do that because we honestly could have been in any time, on any timeline in any history ever. Or future. Or...it's a confusing theory and until the fah'ti, we had no way of keeping track.
The idea was always talked about that I was no real age, that I couldn't be since my age was only relative to the one constant in my life, the ship. In ship years, I was sixteen. What was that in Earth time? Or Laak'sa? For that matter, would time catch up to me? In Earth time, Ralph was gone more than eighty years. Would it catch up to him? Or me? Could I really have an age at all?
In my opinion, of course I had an age. I was sixteen. Period. It didn't matter to me if I was on the can or on the Earth. Time had passed, I had grown, and what was left was a sixteen year old person. I highly doubted time would catch up with Ralph. I could not accept the idea that he would step on the Earth and age eighty years all at once. Not only was that a horrifying thought, but a medical impossibility. Besides, the only people who really harped on that possibility during the long, boring stretches of inactivity on the Condor were the ones that just wanted to see Mother's vein pop out of her forehead.
Clearly the members of the Condor were not the only ones who liked to volley the mysteries of time back and forth. StarTech was looking to me and Ralph to answer the questions of the effects of jumping from one time to another. I understood why Ralph was worried about my data, but after listening to Christophe drone on and on, I resolved not to be.
I also understood why the fah'ti needed cracking. A fah'ti controls not only the destination, but the timeline of arrival. Without it, wormhole travel would be nothing more than random trial and error. Let's say that by some miracle I was able to jump into a wormhole and the current was just so to allow me to come out in the Laak'sa solar system. Without a fah'ti, maybe I'd arrive a million years ago, when the Qitani were still in the trees. Maybe I'd land a million years in the future, when they've got houses up in orbit. Maybe I'd hit there after the supernova and find nothing but dust. Who knows? Without a fah'ti, no one. That's the brilliance of the machine.
For reasons Mother never understood, the Qitani never used the wormholes that went to other galaxies, or even other solar systems. They explored their own extensively, but seemed content at that. Mother always wanted to know of Morhal why she didn't push further. Morhal always gave the standard Qitani answer they all gave when a question was simply too ridiculous to be bothered with. "It is our way and you would not understand."
The quickest way to anger Mother was to tell her she wouldn't understand.
Mother cracked the code. She integrated the fah'ti with our technology, enough to make the suits, anyway. Enough to make a fah'ti I could deploy. She did have the help of the best and brightest scientists on Laak'sa, though, which was why it was proving so difficult for the StarTech scientists to crack.
I wanted to show Dad those pics. That thought kept coming back as I lay staring at my dark ceiling. Between thoughts of Christophe's words, and regret at all I didn't say in my own defense, the urge to get those pics of the beautiful room of crystal to Dad kept coming back. I wanted my mind off things. I got up and put on my pants. Fine. If I wanted a distraction, I'd let myself have one.
I went to the terminal desk in my room and logged on. I entered the help program and asked how to access confidential assignments. I inserted my code key on command, then to my surprise a list of confidential assignments flooded the screen. I knew StarTech worked on a lot of projects, but I had no idea of the scope. The list included everything from "Hundred Year Disaster Projections" to "Financial Implications of Completed a-144 Mining" to "Federal Classification of CB Rations". I didn't understand most of it beyond the subject matter, but they have their hands in everything. Everything. It was tempting to get side tracked and peek at some of the more interesting projects, especially those concerning "Interstellar Intercourse and Potential Ramifications of Abstinence on Male/Female Psyche", but there was time for that later. I had decided to take on a mission and was suddenly very determined to see it through.
I found the fah'ti project. They didn't do anything to disguise it in the list. "Qitani Technology Adaptation", with seventeen subcategories. I selected the main category and was brought to another page with dozens of highlighted links to, most likely, dozens and dozens of other links. It was an enormous project and I thought I should probably just log out and leave it alone when I saw the listing for "Qitani Translation Team Alpha Results". There. I could at least see if they were getting the language. I clicked on it and scanned the screens full of data that went zipping by. It was code. I paused, and saw it was in English. It was of no use. I scrolled around, looked at links. I needed the raw code, the Qitani code. And I couldn't find it anywhere.
Frustration. It was an exercise in
frustration. How could I possibly know if they were translating properly if I only had the aftermath of guessing? The scientist in me started to get angry. This was beyond bad science. I clicked off the terminal and stormed over to my bed. It was useless.
I sat and stewed for a few minutes. Someone had to have the pure code. It had to be available somewhere. I just didn't know what I was doing. I got back up and logged back on to the terminal. This time I looked for a Utopia map. When I found it, I uploaded it to my holo and set out. There was someone who could tell me everything I wanted to know. I would just have to figure out how to sweet talk him into it.
The indentured school dorms were in a different building. I had no idea if I was even allowed to get there. Holo maps are little pieces of amazing. I had never really thought about it before. Actually, I never needed to. I can't remember if I actually ever went anywhere by myself before. You know, out of my ship. I was not allowed to travel alone on any of the explored planets, even in a TrekMan, which was preprogrammed. I had never explored. I had always been "along".
Okay, so maybe walking the well-traveled hallways of a populated base didn't really count as exploring. It's the most I'd ever done, though. To me it was exciting, made even more so when I discovered that almost every door opened under my touch. As an experiment, I even tried doors I didn't need to go through. Two wouldn't turn green. It made me wonder what was back there. They weren't even on the holo maps. Top top secret, I guess. It didn't really matter. Like I said, I didn't need them anyway. But still, it made me wonder...
I followed the map through two buildings, up three elevators, down one other, and through one very large glass walkway, wide enough to easily fit four or five people across and very low to the ground. I discovered I didn't mind that kind of walkway. I guess it was just being up so high in the other one that I didn't like. I stopped for a minute to look out into the night. The observation room we were in before was on the other side of the complex. This one looked out onto the landing area of Utopia. Ships of all sizes were docked. Some glowed, as if the were gearing up for travel, or just landed. People worked under enormous glaring lights. They looked like little blue caa flies on the enormous landing pad.
Remember this area, I told myself. I wanted to come back when I had time and just sit and watch the activity.
I turned and kept walking down the long hall. As I neared the large doors, I could see "Academy Of The Future" written above them. I put my hand to the lock and was allowed in, only to be stopped by some sort of guard.
"What are you doing out of your dorm?" he demanded.
"I...I..." ...had no idea what to say.
"Badge."
"What?"
He sighed and snatched my security key off my belt. He put it through a handheld that looked a little different than a holo, and waited. After a second it beeped, then flashed something that he quickly turned off. He clipped the key back on my belt. "I'm sorry, sir. I assumed...well, you look so young...oh, hell!"
Hm. Interesting. He seemed to be intimidated. By me. I decided to play the part of aristocrat and see if I could pull it off.
"I won't report it this time," I said, sounding very much more important than I am. "But don't let it happen again!"
"No, sir. I won't."
He was actually squirming. I was loving it. "Now. Point me to the dorms."
"Male or female?"
"Male."
"Uppers or lowers?"
I faltered. "Uh..."
"Uppers is for older denties, lowers is for new."
"Uppers. Of course."
He gave a nod and pointed to my holo map. "I'll mark it." I handed it over and he tapped in the coordinates. "There. That'll get you there. I'll let the ward head know to expect you so there won't be no more misunderstandings."
"Thank you." I gave him a regal nod.
"You have yourself a good night, Mr. Cosworth."
Mr. Cosworth. I walked down the hall and got into the elevator. It wasn't until the doors were closed and the guard couldn't see me that I let myself laugh. I'd have to tell Lynette about this one!
The door opened into a hallway that was half lit. I walked forward and was greeted by someone who wore a different kind of uniform than I'd seen before.
"I'm Al Costa, and this is highly unusual even if you are a Cosworth."
I tried the haughty look again. He was unmoved. I cleared my throat and tried to sound as important as possible. "I need to speak with a student in this dorm. It's of vital importance."
"Don't you take that tone with me, young man! I'm in charge of every youngster on this ward and unless you've got a very good reason to be up here in the middle of the night..."
"I do." I gave him my key to run. That should do it.
"And that is?" he asked without taking my key.
"I believe if you run this through, you'll find..."
"Of course you've got a high rank. You're a Cosworth, even if I haven't heard of you. I'm asking what you want with my student in the middle of the night." He crossed his arms over his chest and all my big and important attitude drained out.
"Please," I begged, just like a kid again. "I'm working on a top level project and...well...I'm stuck."
He sighed. "So it's Marlon you want. You know he's on black out for a week, don't you?"
"Yeah." I shuffled my feet. "I kind of...well, it wasn't all his fault. And if he can help me, maybe I can get him cleared."
Al laughed. "Oh now don't go doing that! He's punished for a reason." He started to warm up to me. "What's the project?" I didn't answer. "Ah. That alien thing, eh?" I looked up quickly and he laughed again. "Kid, I told you. I've been at this job a very long time. The one thing I can do better than anyone else is sniff out the truth. Down the hall to the left. It's the library. I'll send Marlon in. You can work in there. No need to wake up all the others, even if you are a Cosworth." He said my last name with a little less contempt that time. He pointed down the hall. "And you make sure he doesn't lay a finger on that terminal, you got that?"
I gave a nod and tried to walk regally down the hall. It was no use. All my bravado was gone. I didn't know how Ashnahta always managed to pull it off, to project absolute authority. Maybe it's just inborn in the Qitani. I found the library and noticed the back of the room was lit. I went to sit at a terminal and wait for Marlon.
He came in wearing a robe and a frown. "The only thing I like better than gaming is my sleep. This better be good, space ape." He pulled a chair out from beside me and slumped. "Now what was so friggin' important that you got me out of bed at...hell...what time is it?"
"About three." He scoffed, but I ignored it. "I need to know how to get in to the fah'ti code."
He blinked his sleepy eyes at me for a minute. "That's what you got me up for? That? The same thing that got me blacked out?" He made a little squeak. "Forget this." Marlon went to stand and I grabbed his arm.
"I think I know part of the problem," I said quickly. So it was a little lie. So what? It got him to stay.
About an hour later, I was still trying to find the part of the problem I promised. He guided me to the original code. I uploaded it to my holo, something he found highly amusing.
"They'll get you for that one. Level G or not, you'll be blacked out."
I wasn't worried about it. Then I got down to business. I looked at the original code, with Marlon asking questions over my shoulder the whole time.
"You can actually read that?"
"You sure that's actually writing at all? Looks like chicken scratches to me."
"You really did meet them, didn't you?"
"Are you sure you're actually reading that? I'm starting to think you're making this whole thing up."
...and on and on. It was easier to tune him out than you might think. Stefan used to hover over me when I was doing his work, too. He wanted it done right...he just didn't want to take the time to do it himself. Eventually Marlon wandered away. He came back with two cups of coffee.
/> "Here. Looks like we're up to see the sunrise."
I never had coffee before, but drank a sip to be polite. It was terrible and the only thing that kept me from spitting it out was knowing that Marlon would never let it go if I did.
And then I finally found it. "There," I said triumphantly, tapping the screen with my finger.
Marlon leaned forward and looked at the screen. "Ah yes, the funky chicken scratch instead of the squiggly chicken scratch."
I sighed. "Can you think of why that might be?" He just looked at me blankly and I sighed. "It's not Qitani."
"What?"
"I mean, it is, but not really. That must be Mother's code."
Marlon squinted at the screen. "I don't see..."
"The languages, they don't translate. Not really. They're based on such a different structure and, well, frame of reference. They're in a completely different galaxy. Our languages have a lot of constants, but they're all in reference to what we know, what we can see. The sun, the moon, tides...everything around us."
"So?"
"So, those aren't universal. They're galactic. Think about it. If I say 'sky blue' to you, you know what shade that is because you're on Earth. If I say 'twinkles like the stars', you get a picture in your head. It doesn't matter what language I use, because the sky is the same color on the Asia continent as it is on the Americas continent."
Marlon nodded. "Okay, I see where you're coming from."
"And what you don't get is just how important that is to language. Those common cues are woven through all the languages on Earth. Colors, smells, sounds, sights, tastes..."
"And they're different for..."
"Laak'sa. Right. So their language, it really can't be directly translated."
"Math is. Code should be."
"That's what you think. But that's what Mother discovered. It's not. Let's take math and physics. They're based on our measurable world too, even if we want to pretend they work like that everywhere. Some does. Some does not. The Qitani are not on a base ten math system."
"So? One plus one will still equal two."
"Yes. But it's the getting there part that's so different we need a work around. It's where humans have their heads up their..." I shook my head and decided it was useless to explain to one of the biggest sufferers. I changed tactics. "You take any formula we've got. They have an equivalent, but the structure is completely different. So even in the maths, there's a basic communication block."
He was finally understanding. "So all the code had a completely foreign base."
"Yes, and it's a mix of math and language, and with rough translation here and there..."
"It's a wonder anyone got anything to work together."
"Exactly."
"Well if your mother knew this, why didn't she just give a code we could understand? Or instructions or something?"
I turned back to the screen. "Mother's got one path. That probably would have been Stefan's job. Or Marty's. Neither of them like work. At all."
Marlon grinned. "Ah, squeaks after my own heart."
I snorted and highlighted Mother's code. "This is Mother's. It doesn't fit, not quite."
"But it works with the alien speak."
"They aren't aliens." Marlon made a noise but I wouldn't let him bully me on this point. "We're the aliens here. This is their tech. We're the ones hacking it."
Marlon gave a little shrug. "Whatever. Isolate all hers."
I started to highlight the segments I found. After a large block, Marlon told me to pull just that up. "Why?"
"Is it math or language?"
I scanned over it. "Language."
"What's it say?"
"Uh...something about propulsion pulses matching the...um...haak'sshi. I don't know a corresponding word." It was a feeling. A connection. A personal exchange deep inside. Without it, there was no connection, no inspeaking, no universal thread. It's a concept humans don't have. Or if they do, I don't know what it would be called. I didn't know Mother understood anything about it. Yet it was her own code.
"You do know the idea of translating is to actually translate, right?" He was being snarky.
I shrugged. "And I said some things just don't translate. That's one of them."
"What is it?"
"An abstract concept."
"Can't be abstract if it's in the code."
What are you doing, Mother? What does it mean, I asked silently. I stared at the screen. Haak'sshi. It was there. It was in the block of code three times, in fact. Or no, not code. It was nothing like what I looked at the other day with Marlon. That must have been a different part, or someone's attempt at translations.
Marlon sighed with frustration at my silence. "Okay. Well what's around it?"
"Huh?"
"Around it, around it," he said quickly, jabbing the screen. "Here and here and here. Let's see if we can get the context."
"Oh. Yeah. Okay, well the first few lines are calculations of..." I frowned. "Population? Why would population matter?"
"What's next?"
"Um..." I scanned the words over and over. "I don't think is a code. It doesn't read like code. Not this part, anyway."
Marlon sat forward. "It's what was programmed on the fah'ti. We assumed it's code."
"I did, too. But it's more like a manual."
Marlon's hand shot out to type on the terminal and he pulled it back quickly, remembering his punishment. "Crap. Get us back to the top. Go from the top down."
I did. He asked me to read the opening line. "In the year of the gods twelve seven seven, there was a visitation from a...messenger? Yeah. Messenger. This messenger gave to the Qitani people the power of the skies of the far worlds... Oh. I know this story. It's how they took to the stars. I should have recognized it right from the beginning."
"Damnit!" Marlon slammed his hand on the desk and made me jump. "It's not a code at all! No wonder we can't make it work. It's just a fricken history lesson." He sounded absolutely disgusted, as if he'd been tricked or something.
I ignored him. There was more. Mother would not have put her own spin on their lore. There was more here, and I told Marlon as much. I gave him the basic tale that every Qitani child learns. They were not the inventors of the fah'ti, not the first to travel. "Mother was always trying to get the coordinates from Morhal," I said. "Imagine how great that tribe must be! But Morhal would never give us that information."
"You don't say," said Marlon with bitterness in his voice.
"Morhal always said we weren't ready. Mother begged but..."
Marlon gave a humorless laugh. "I'm on blackout for a frickin' fairy tale?"
I sighed. It wasn't a fairy tale, it was their history. But, it was their history with some of ours now blended in. I kept reading until I got to the first thing Mother added. "They knew about us for about five of our years before they made contact."
"Fascinating." Marlon leaned back on two legs of his chair and bounced. It was clear he had decided to write this whole thing off.
I sent him a glare. It was fascinating. We didn't know about them at all. "We couldn't detect them. We had no idea they were there until they invited us."
"So?"
"So that means their equipment picked up ours." He gave me a bland look. Really, I wasn't seeing the genius Lynette claimed he was. "If they can monitor us through our own equipment," I prompted slowly and deliberately. "Then they can read the signals. Which means their codes..."
Marlon slammed the legs of his chair back on the floor and leaned forward. "Already know how to read ours."
Aha. That got his attention. "Exactly." I read through the mix of history and Mother's inserted explanations. I told Marlon what I thought were the important parts.
"Read it all word for word."
I scoffed. "Do you ever listen? I. Can't."
"Have it your way."
My way! As if there was a choice. I shook my head and read. They got in to the history of their own technology development based on
the gift of the first fah'ti, then it began to talk about what they had to do to get it to jibe with ours. That's where Mother really began to insert her instructions.
"What's it say?"
"Oh wow." The more I read, the more I understood why Mother put parts in. She was saying that it was up to the fah'ti to decide. It was preset with specific parameters that would lock out interference from humanity. We'd have no choice to recode it for our uses.
"Well?"
"Shh." It was protected. Or, if not protected, kept secret from humans. Morhal was serious when she said she would not allow us to reach the other races. "When we are ready, we will know them." It seemed that the fah'ti would determine when were were ready by Qitani standards.
Marlon could see my interest and got more impatient. "What?"
"Shh!" So it was intentionally designed to keep us out, at least for the time being. They are paired, always two are made, one synced with the other. The fah'ti we had would only work in tandem with the other. Even if we could duplicate the technology down to the last wire, the only other place it could possibly take us would be to the other fah'ti, the one Ralph and I jumped through. I had to smile. Yes, we were the "big, bad, advanced" race. Sure.
Marlon grabbed my shoulders and shook me. "Tell me what it says or you're toast!"
"We can't hack it!"
He stopped shaking me. "I can hack anything."
"No, you can't. Not this."
"Why not?"
"It doesn't work on math. It's not really a code, not one for humans. And we'll screw it up if we keep trying."
"Why?"
I jumped up. "I have to get to Reginald."
Marlon stood face to face with me, poking me in the chest. "You get me up in the middle of the night and drag me in here to tell me fairy tales and then as soon as you figure it all out, you take off without telling me why? Bull."
"Then follow me. I need to get to Reginald now."
"I'm not allowed!"
I didn't listen. He'd follow or not. His choice. I ran out and down the hall to the elevator. Al yelled at me for running in the dorms, but didn't come after me. Right before the elevator door closed, Marlon slipped in, panting.
"I hate...running."
"Thought you...didn't want...to get in to...trouble..."
He shrugged. "I'm already in....trouble."
"Where's Reginald?"
Marlon shook his head, catching his breath. "I don't know how to get to his office."
The doors opened and the guard I pulled rank with was still on duty. I had a thought. "Follow my lead. You!" I yelled to the guard.
"Mr. Cosworth," he said as he quickly approached. "You find it okay?"
"Yes. Do you know the way to Re...Mr. Luckston's office?"
He nodded. "Sure do. All us security do rotations in the North building."
"Good. Take us."
He looked around quickly. "I'm on duty..."
"It's a matter of critical importance."
He snapped to. "Yes, sir, Mr. Cosworth. Right this way."
Marlon gave me a look like he was impressed and I couldn't help but grin. In a dignified and highly important manner, of course. An aristocrat.
We followed the guard through a series of quick twists and turns, long, featureless hallways, some back elevators I hadn't been in, until we finally found ourselves in the wood paneled offices. It was very quiet. "No one's on duty yet," the guard explained. "Favorite time of the day."
"Carlson! You're on dorm patrol." Another guard, this one with a slightly fancier uniform, came out of nowhere and was on us in seconds.
"Sir, this is young Mr. Cosworth. One of the Cosworths."
He looked at me. "Key."
I clenched my jaw and stood as tall as possible. I took my key out and handed it to him, hoping I looked like I was an offended person of importance and not just some ticked off kid. He ran my key, then handed it back to me.
"You left your post."
"It's important, like I said."
I stepped in. There was no reason the guard should get in trouble on my behalf. "He is acting under my command. I take full responsibility for his actions."
The guard looked like he wanted to argue, but I must have been convincing, because all I got for reply was him stepping back out of our way. I passed and couldn't help but give him a dirty look. Marlon didn't even try to suppress his snort.
As soon as we reached Reginald's office, our guard said something to the guard on duty at the front desk. They whispered back and forth for a minute before Christophe opened the suite door and stepped out. "I've been expecting these gentlemen," he said to the guards.
"Yes, sir," said the guard at the desk.
Christophe motioned to the guard that helped us. "Your key, please."
"He didn't do anything wrong," I said quickly.
The guard handed over his key and Christophe punched something in. "Thank you for escorting these young men. That should take care of any trouble it caused."
He nodded. "Thank you, sir."
"Head back to the dorms. I've got it from here."
"Thanks, Mr. Venderi." The guard nodded to us, then hurried down the hallway.
Christophe looked at the two of us. It was barely five in the morning and he was already dressed and perfect for the day. I was still in the same clothes from the night before, and Marlon was in his bath robe. I suddenly felt very out of place.
"I hadn't expected to see you so early, Jake."
"I couldn't sleep so I've been working..."
"Inside, if you please," he said quickly, shooting a look at the guard.
We went into the suite and Christophe showed us to the business area, not the couches. "Have a seat, boys, and I'll let Ralph and Al know where you are. I'm sure they'll be worried." It was a reprimand. Even Marlon had the decency to look embarrassed.
After he made the calls, he turned to me. "Fah'ti project on your mind, hm?"
"Yes." It should have surprised me that he knew, but it didn't. I already knew that Christophe had his finger on the pulse of everything in Utopia.
He sat back in Reginald's big leather chair. He looked as comfortable in it as Reginald did. More formal, though. More impressive. "So what did you learn?"
I told him. He listened. Like Marlon, though, he didn't want to believe what he heard.
"We have to crack it."
"We can't."
"If we can't crack it, we can't use it."
"Yes we can. We just have to use it with it's pair."
"And that means we can only go to one wormhole and end up in one place and time." He looked...annoyed? Frustrated?
"Yes. For now. And then one day..."
"Why." He wasn't really asking a question, he was thinking out loud. I let him tap his fingers on the top of the desk until his look changed.
"We're not ready."
His reply was fast and fierce. "Bullshit."
I hadn't heard him swear before. Nothing in his demeanor or polished perfection would indicate he ever did. But he had, and he did it right and well. "We aren't ready. Mother even admits it in her section of code. Until we can incorporate haak'sshi into our psyche, we can't use the technology for our own purposes. At least, I think it's haak'sshi that is the key."
"The Qitani cracked the code. They cracked the technology of a different race."
"That's what I said!" said Marlon. He hadn't, but I let that pass.
"It's all about this haak'sshi concept," Christophe said after a quick nod to Marlon. "Tell me about it."
I shrugged. "I...can't. It's part of their fiber. It's like..." I shook my head. How can you explain a concept that none of our words could explain?
"Is it physical? Spiritual? Emotional?"
"Yes. I think to all three."
"The doc said something the other day about Jake's brainwaves being different," Marlon told Christophe.
"Mmm. Could it have to do with their brains?"
I shrugged. "Maybe."
/>
Christophe slammed a hand on the desk making us jump. He pushed away and stood quickly, then turned to stare out the window at the sunrise. He didn't say anything for a few minutes and neither Marlon nor I knew what to do. "When will we be ready? Isn't this enough? We sent you to them. Wasn't that enough? How much more do we need?" He turned around and leaned on the desk. "Why were the Qitani ready? Had they made bases on other planets?"
"No."
"No. A simple biological twist. Why are we constantly denied?" He sighed and composed himself with alarming speed. "I'm sorry, boys. It has not been an easy week. The quick jump has me all out of sorts. I simply do not like the idea that another race is dictating our space travel."
I had to defend them. "They're not. They didn't dictate us getting to them in the first place. They didn't dictate this base, or the first moon one, or the first shuttles or airplanes. They're only saying that we don't have the ability to alter the fah'ti."
"We can. If they'd tell us."
"And we wouldn't understand them right now even if they did!"
He looked to Marlon. "Can you crack it?"
"It's words, not really code."
"Biological programming?"
He shrugged. "We've played with it. Guess they're just better."
I was lost. "What's biological programming?"
"It's a concept scientists have long pondered. Can you control a piece of technology through biometric rhythms?"
"You mean...skip all the actual programming..."
"And just think your way through it," Marlon finished. "Or feel your way. Control travel of a ship like your mind controls you...walking."
"I don't get it."
"Your brain doesn't consciously think of a code to walk from here," he pointed to the desk, "to that couch over there. You just stand up and go."
"And you can do that with a ship?"
Marlon put his hands up and shrugged. "We've always thought maybe. I mean, the brain really is just a computer. We just haven't mapped out all the coding."
"We're getting there," Christophe said. "We can map memory. Program that in to the..." he trailed off and his eyes went wide.
"Doppel bots," finished Marlon. "Aw man! They did it! That's the code!"
Christophe was smiling. I got the basic idea, but was still mostly confused. "Then why can't we?"
"Why can't we is right!" Christophe actually looked gleeful. "Marlon, you're transfered. I want you working with Bradley."
"Higher status?"
"Don't push your luck." He logged onto his terminal. "Lab 17 sub-D. Go back to your dorm and pack. I want you installed there by 8 am."
Marlon jumped up and headed for the door. "I'm on it!"
I looked around, utterly confused. "What's going on?"
Christophe stood and came to shake my hand. "I think we're about to be ready, that's what!"
"So...I cracked the fah'ti?"
"What?" He gave a little laugh. "No, I'm quite sure you're correct about it being uncrackable. We won't be able to use it in any other way than the Qitani desire."
"I'm so confused."
"We'll set it up. We'll turn it on. You say Eunice believes it'll work with our tech, we'll give it a try."
"You haven't even tried it?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
Christophe sighed. "And how could we before we even knew what we were dealing with? Hm? We picked you up and disabled the fah'ti as soon as we could. Couldn't risk two hundred years of StarTech work and research on potentially harmful technology."
Did they seriously believe that an advanced people would reach across galaxies just to steal useless...gossip? Unbelievable. Humans are absolutely unbelievable. I scoffed and shook my head.
He held up his hands. "I'm not trying to offend you, but please look at it from our point of view. You had to be quarantined for six weeks so we wouldn't get any alien diseases."
That's what they were doing all that long, boring time? "I did?"
"And we had to do the same with the technology. It would be stupid to blindly trust an unknown race."
I crossed my arms, annoyed that his sentiments only ran one way. "Isn't that what you want me to do?"
He gave a little wave. "I don't have time for another philosophical conversation right now. Besides, I stand firmly behind what I said last night. That won't change. If you can't understand why the lives and livelihoods of millions of people can't be put at jeopardy simply because you have a fondness for the Qitani, then there's nothing I can say to change your mind."
I hated it, but I could see his point. Mother did the same herself for two years after we were introduced to the Qitani. I have no doubt the Qitani did the same in regards to us. Protection from the unknown. I conceded. "So you're going to start it up now?"
"No. We're going to place it back where it was, nice and safe and away and disconnected from anything having to do with us and then we'll turn it back on."
I felt excitement growing. "And then I'll be able to talk to Dad?"
Christophe shrugged. "If you're right."
"And if I'm wrong?"
He did smile at me then, a snide, smug grin. "Then perhaps you'll start realizing how human you are after all, Mr. Cosworth."