Sentience 1: Storm Clouds Gathering (36 page)

BOOK: Sentience 1: Storm Clouds Gathering
6.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

AP Political Analyst Fredrick Paul commented, “The timing of this is certainly questionable, as the allegations of wrongdoing and depriving these candidates of campaign funds less then three weeks before the vote, appear to have effectively killed their chances of being elected.”

Alliance Press (AP): Nork – News Release (11/18/60)

Just two weeks before the electorate heads to the polls for the national election, Congressman Pierre Marrot of Illini remains favored to win the presidency over rival Governor Theresa Tyler of Souri. In addressing the Separatist crisis in the South, Marrot has come out strongly in support of the contentious
Alliance First Act of 3854
, stating:

“The wealth of the Alliance belongs to the people of the Alliance, and must always be readily available where it can do the most good for the most people. Those who would hoard the communal riches of our nation for themselves are unscrupulous rascals who seek to defraud their brethren of their birthright. The Federal Union will never be broken by villains seeking personal gain, while I’m in the White House.”

Governor Tyler responded by saying, “It’s no coincidence that Congressman Marrot has chosen to describe Southerners as ‘villains.’ As his ancestry is French, I’m quite certain that Pierre Marrot is very familiar with the fact that the English word ‘villain’ derives its roots from the French word
villein
, which is defined as a member of a class of ‘partially free’ persons, under the feudal system. These were serfs with respect to their lord, but had the rights and privileges of freemen with respect to other serfs.
Villein
very accurately describes the attitudes of Northern Lords in respect to their Southern Serfs.”

Alliance Press (AP): Nork – News Release (11/24/60)

With less than a week to go before this year’s national election, riots have broken out throughout the South between Separatist sympathizers and Union activists. Local police have been hard-pressed to contain the escalating violence, and some have been accused of standing idly by while Separatist zealots beat and kicked their Unionist opponents.

A bloody Separatist sympathizer on Missip, who had been struck in the head with a brick, is quoted as saying, “These
damned Yankees
ain’t even from around here. They’ve been shipped in from all over the North to intimidate Southern voters and we ain’t gonna let’em. Y’all tell your folks up North that if they come down here to stir up trouble, somebody’s gonna get hurt because, by God, we’ll give’em trouble!”

Alliance Press (AP): Nork – News Release (11/30/60)

Governors across the South have called up Planetary Guard troops to curtail violence, as voters head to the polls in today’s contentious election. Guard troops and police in full riot gear are conspicuous at virtually every polling place on all 14 Alliance planets, south of the Kallarine Gap.

President Buchwald has condemned the recent outbreak of violence, stating, “The only legitimate means of settling differences is at the ballot box. Let the voice of the people be heard and let the will of the people be done.”

Alliance Press (AP): Nork – News Flash (12/1/60)

Marrot Elected President!
— With over 80 percent of the precincts reporting, Congressman Pierre Marrot of Illini has emerged victorious over opponent Governor Theresa Tyler of Souri in this year’s presidential election, in a vote split by region and ideology. Marrot carried all 17 Northern planets, including Mai, Massa, Verm, Namshir, Rilan, Conn, Nork, Jersi, Sylvania, Hio, Indinara, Illini, Wisco, Minnos, Io, Cali and Oreg.

Tyler swept the entire South, winning Ginia, Nocar, Socar, Joja, Floda, Bama, Missip, Lusia, Arka, Tensee, Ansas, Souri, Tucky, Maylan and Dela. In conceding defeat, Governor Tyler stated, “The voice of the North has spoken. The voice of moderation has been silenced, and the voice of the South shouted down. It is heartbreaking for me to envision what the outcome of this election portends for our great nation.”

Chapter-28

Art, like morality, consists in drawing the line somewhere.
-- Gilbert K. Chesterton

The Rak Planet Troxia

Drix carried the newly completed translator under his left arm as he walked the streets near the spaceport. It was a bulky thing, and rather heavy, but the weight was mostly in the power source. Engineering-Masters were working to redesign the thing, to make it smaller and lighter, but Drix wanted to test its functionality on Trakaan having no knowledge of the Rak language. Tests with the Trakaan assigned to the development team were encouraging. Drix had learned much about Trakaan civilization from those discussions.

It appeared the Trakaan were indeed a docile race, primarily concerned with gaining knowledge for its own sake. The existence of true star-faring predators had been slow for the Trakaan to postulate, as ships merely disappeared with no indication as to why the phenomenon was occurring. The Trakaan were well aware of the existence of predatory species, whose violent natures generally prevented them from achieving scientific levels required for interstellar space flight. Rarely did one survive the nuclear stage of development before ultimately destroying themselves, or at least setting themselves back several hundreds of cycles, before repeating their self-destructive pattern. Thus it came as a complete, terrifying surprise when the Raknii suddenly appeared and began attacking Trakaan planets.

The Trakaan involved in the translator project insisted the Trakaan had repeatedly attempted to communicate with the invaders, but were never quite sure whether their failure to do so was because of the distinct lack of linguistic samples, producing faulty language translation, or if the predators were just not interested in establishing communication at all. Drix suspected it might have been both, but heavily favored the latter.

The Trakaan spent cycles debating amongst themselves, trying to ascertain what it was the predators wanted from them. They just couldn’t fathom a race that killed for pure amusement. Eventually the Trakaan were forced to install defensive weaponry aboard their vessels as some form of deterrent, but manufacturing and installing weapons into their ships was far easier than learning how to use them efficiently. The basic concepts of various types of combat were learned through study of various aggressive, low-technology species, but the differences between theory and practical application became painfully apparent when the first armed Trakaan ships tried engaging a species which had the art of killing ingrained into their genes.

Drix walked, lugging the heavy translator until he came to an obvious Trakaan dwelling, where he went to the entrance and touched the summoning plate. A Trakaan female opened the door and squealed in terror at the sight of a fanged predator standing so close to her. She tried closing the door, but Drix blocked it with his boot as he spoke:

“Have no fear. I will not hurt you. I only wish to speak with you.” The translator warbled a series of the high-pitched sounds that made up the Trakaan language... sounds impossible for the Raknii vocal apparatus to duplicate.

The female continued squealing and kept her body pressed close to the opposite side of the door, as if her small mass could prevent Drix from forcing past her at will. Drix did not want to appear any more threatening than his mere physical presence would create, so he did not force his way past the terrified female, but kept up his claims of non-violence.

“Please, I have no wish to hurt anyone. Is there someone here I might talk to?”

Eventually, the female’s squeals subsided enough for the translator to interpret, “FATHER!”

Shortly, an elderly Trakaan male came into view, peering out of the crack in the doorway. “Go into the food-preparation area, daughter. I will deal with this alien.”

Drix felt the pressure against his boot subside and soon, the male Trakaan opened the door fully and said, “Be welcome in my home, invader,” gesturing for Drix to enter. As Drix stepped into the entryway just beyond the door, he heard the translator murmur, “I never thought I would ever hear myself say that to one of
them
.”

Drix stopped just far enough inside to allow the male to shut the door behind him and said, “My name is Drix and I wish only to speak peacefully with you. I intend no harm to anyone of this house.”

“I am Fraznal,” said the Trakaan male, “I am the head of this house. Please follow me to our reception area, where we may sit comfortably.” The Trakaan gestured to the right and led Drix into a cozy area decorated in odd, alien patterns Drix was totally unfamiliar with. It struck him that he was possibly the first Raknii to ever enter a Trakaan home without weapons blasting.

“Please be seated,” said the male, gesturing towards a low, padded piece of alien furniture obviously intended for seating up to three Trakaan. Drix squatted down and rested his bottom on the edge of the padded seat and curled his tail around the side of his left leg, as the furniture was definitely not designed for beings with tails. “I apologize that we have no furniture better suited to your physiology.”

“No apology is necessary, Master Fraznal,” said Drix. “I am honored you have agreed to speak with me and offer me the welcome of your house.”

“Daughter,” Fraznal called out to another room, “bring refreshments for our guest.”

Soon, the tiny Trakaan female brought in a tray holding two frosted glasses of a purplish-colored liquid and bowed as she offered first choice to Drix. He could see she was shaking nervously, her terror obvious and barely under control. Drix took one and she quickly turned away and offered the second to her father, then scurried away as soon as she could.

“This is juice from the
Jla
fruit. It is perfectly safe for your consumption and I am told your people enjoy it.”

“Thank you.” Drix dipped his tongue down into the narrow mouth of the glass, as he did not wish to ask for a bowl, from which the Rak usually imbibed liquids. The juice had an interesting sweet and yet sour flavor he found quite delightful after his second taste.

“Please forgive my daughter’s obvious discomfort at your presence, Lord Drix. Her mother was killed in the initial attack on our planet and she misses her greatly.”

“Your mate was killed during our initial bombardment, then?” asked Drix.

“No, it was just after the initial landings of your ground troops. I am told my mate was merely crossing the plaza, when a group of invaders rounded a corner, blasting everything that moved, indiscriminately. Our people had no weapons, so those killings were unnecessary for ensuring their safety,” said Fraznal. “I suppose they might not have known that at the time, but as your people have conquered many other of our planets, perhaps they should have.”

“You must hate us, then.”

Fraznal peered at Drix intently for a few moments before answering. “Hate is a foreign concept to my people. Perhaps it
might
be an apt term with which to label the amalgam of alien emotions your attacks have generated amongst us. It is a complex mixture of fear, grief, resentment, bewilderment and resignation that saps the energy and zest for life from us. It is the constant tension of not knowing what next disaster might overtake us on any given turn. It is the not knowing exactly what you want from us, and how we should behave to avoid giving offense, that might anger one of your people enough to do us harm.

“I am astounded by that device you have with you, which is enabling us to communicate. Our inability to communicate has been one of our greatest frustrations, as understanding is impossible without communication.”

“Yes, that is one of my primary goals of this visit… to test the capabilities of this device. It is imperative we establish a dialog with your people,” responded Drix.

“I agree wholeheartedly, Lord Drix. We have always wanted that, but I cannot help but wonder — what event prompts your people to finally desire real communications with us after all this time?”

“As I am sure you are painfully aware, the Raknii are a race of predators. As with all predators, we hunt to live, but events since our first encounters with your race has changed us…
poisoned
us.”

“Raknii? Is that what you call yourselves? We never knew even that. How is it that exposure to the Trakaan has harmed you?”

“Your docile natures and baffling inability to defend yourselves has changed the hunt from something we did to survive and expand our culture and civilization, into a blood sport,” replied Drix. “We no longer hunt out of necessity, but for sheer amusement. It is an abomination.”

The old Trakaan male made a snorting sound
(amusement?)
and replied, “Yes, I can agree that ‘abomination’ is an excellent word to describe your actions against my race. It has certainly been considered an
abomination
among my people, as we have no understanding of violent predators except through study of other alien races we have encountered during our 30,000 cycles of roaming amongst the stars.”

Drix was startled. “The Trakaan have had interstellar travel for 30,000 cycles?”

“Yes, does this surprise you?”

“Immensely!” exclaimed Drix. “Why is it your people have not expanded your civilization to encompass many more planets than you have, in all that time?”

“We very rarely have need of expansion,” replied Fraznal. “The Trakaan are normally a long-lived, but slow-breeding race. It takes many millennia for our numbers to eventually grow beyond the capabilities of a planet to sustain us. We have discovered hundreds of life-sustaining planets in our travels, but we only colonized those closest to our original home world as it became necessary, and never one which already contained an intelligent, indigenous species.”

“Why not?” asked Drix. “Did you not wish servants to perform menial tasks, to free your people for more profitable activities?”

“We build machines for that.”

“Servants are cheaper.”

“Not if the servants are voluntary and are paid for their services. I believe the correct word for what you mean might be,
slaves
.”

Other books

Alienation by Jon S. Lewis
All Involved by Ryan Gattis
Stealing Promises by Brina Courtney
Real Men Don't Quit by Coleen Kwan
Zane Grey by Riders of the Purple Sage
Pengelly's Daughter by Nicola Pryce