*
“You really think this is going to work, Ted?” Trell asked him. The two of them were standing on the bridge behind the General Operations table, trying to figure out how best to send the message. Ted didn’t have a copy of the book on him, so it had taken him nearly three hours with Trell’s help to find the appropriate files on the December’s computer. Much to his relief, there was a library of classic literature ebooks on board, supposedly to entertain the crew on deep-space missions, and Thus Spoke Zarathustra was one of them.
“I think it will,” Ted said, forcing his voice to sound encouraging.
There was a pause as Ted scrolled through the book, trying to find the passage that would suit him best.
“Trell.” Ted dropped his voice low enough so that the other Koleans on the bridge couldn’t hear, even though he knew they couldn’t understand English. He didn’t want to take any chances. “Would Hoguh really torture Vandoraa?”
Trell turned to him, letting out a deep sigh. “Probably, Ted. It’s not legal, but it happens behind closed doors. It’s not like they have Parliament looking over their shoulder all the way out here, and a lot of the military members have the same prejudices against Drevi that Hoguh does, though thankfully I think only a few would go that far. They massacred a large percentage of our population when we fought back, Ted. That’s not something you just forget overnight.”
“Of course you don’t,” Ted said, struggling to keep his voice level. “But torture? That’s been illegal on Earth for centuries now. It’s barbaric.”
“I agree with you. But what am I going to do to stop him? I have less influence in this mission than Alana does. Even less than you do. I’m really only here because of her, and because I can speak English and run this starship.”
Ted felt a wave of depression break on the shores of his mind. He knew no culture was perfect, but the Koleans had seemed like such an evolved, peaceful people. Now, with the revelation about Juiya’s social status and military members torturing prisoners behind closed doors, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
“All right. What’s the message you want to submit?” Trell asked, stepping aside and allowing Ted access to the console, trying to get off the subject of torture and back to the task at hand.
Ted stepped up and glanced at the text on the PD he was holding. They were incredibly convenient for reading a book, something Ted had always loved to do in his free time. The complicated computer network on board the December, however, not so much. Fortunately Trell had found a way to have Ted’s new Kolean PD and the December’s human-made computers function together, which was extraordinarily helpful.
Hesitantly, Ted placed the PD on the table and glanced back and forth between the two screens as he entered the passage into the computer:
“Thus spoke Zarathustra and left his cave, glowing and strong,
like a morning sun coming out of gloomy mountains.”
He then added his own words, “The last line of this book is magnificent. Almost makes you want to leave the cave yourself. I’ll be there.”
Ted read the message over again, making sure it was worded exactly right, before turning back to Trell. “All right, this is how I want it. Now how are you planning to transfer it?”
“Through normal means, to every communicator in the American States,” Trell said, typing away at the computer’s touchscreen. All humans had mobile devices that used one of a few mainstream service providers that accepted incoming messages. Kind of like a mixture of old school e-mail, instant messaging, and text messaging rolled into one. Of course, instant video communication was also standard, and for those who could afford it in their homes, 3D communication was relatively common as well. From what Trell said, it sounded like he planned to send that message to any and all numbers he could obtain through hacking the telecommunications networks that seemed to be relatively untouched by the Drevi, except that their content was now strictly controlled. The more critical corporations had been taken over from the top down, of course, but had allowed the day-to-day operation to remain more or less the same. The Drevi had to have some way of displaying their propaganda to everyone, and it presented a perfect opportunity to study human society further. People got enough spam anyway; most of them would just disregard the message entirely. And those who thought it might actually be important would have no idea what it actually meant. Only Kenneth would. Ted smiled proudly. It seemed as though his plan was going to work.
Trell took a deep breath. “Ready to transmit.”
“Well, do it,” was Ted’s response.
“Here goes nothing,” Trell muttered under his breath.
“Have you been watching old Earth movies?” Ted asked, wondering where else Trell could have picked up that phrase.
Trell looked a little embarrassed. “Maybe,” he said with a sheepish grin.
Ted smiled back and glanced at the clock. Being in space had screwed up his sense of time, and he was genuinely surprised when his PD told him it was almost one in the morning.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, amazed at how easily time had slipped away from him. “Trell, it’s one AM.”
“Hm? Oh,” the Kolean said. “Go to sleep then. Sorry, I’m just not tired yet.”
The mention of sleep already had Ted feeling exhausted. “Well, if it’s okay I think I’ll turn in. If we get a response to the message, wake me up.”
“I’ll do that,” Trell said as the sleepy human left the bridge for the comfort of his own room.