On Mars Pathfinder (The Mike Lane Stories Book 1) (35 page)

Many of the older hybrids had taken mates. Some of the hybrids had done so on the Mars base, while some had gone to Sapro. The dozen that were on Terra had all taken mates. Mates with very high security clearances of course. The one thing that haunted them all though was the lack of ability to procreate. None of the hybrids, man or woman, had been able to have children with other hybrids, humans or True-Blood Eben. There was a high incidence of adoption in these families, both on Terra and of orphaned children on Sapro. The hybrid-hybrid and hybrid-human couples on Mars had started taking guardianship of new hybrids being born. The last batch of hybrids, five years ago, had all gone to these families on the Mars base. The next batch would see younglings being placed with the two, recently formed, human-true-blood families as well.

Sgt. Codrup reappeared, some of his kitchen staff quietly back at their posts. He was accompanied by a timid looking Airman First Class. They had three trays with servings for each of the women. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, julienned carrots, broiled asparagus and blueberry pie for dessert. He also had a small bowl of coleslaw he knew the General loved, but also knew the sisters hated. The last thing he sat down was a bottle of Frank’s Red Hot sauce. The hybrids went nuts for it, and they put that s*** on everything.

“Thank you Danny,” said Achael.

“Major,” was his acknowledgement.

The women slowly enjoyed their lunch. Hlef realized that even though she was still sad, snuffling, and weepy; she was also starving. While at first glance the food may have seemed very pedestrian, it had been created by the commissary’s Cordon Bleu trained Chef-Corporal. It looked like military food, but it tasted like a very satisfying afternoon on the Left Bank.

The conversation meandered away from Hlef’s awakening and sauntered on to other topics. Eventually, Gilda brought the conversation around to something she had intended to discuss over lunch anyways. As the room was still secured by the security detail in the hallway, she could speak freely.

“Girls, I have a small job that I need you to do.”

They kept eating their pie, but looked at her expectantly. Gilda wasn’t exactly sure how this was going to go over, but it was something that needed to be done. It was an important step in a plan that had been a long time progressing, and was almost near its denouement.

“I need you to go see Mike.”

They both paused, forks full of crust halfway to their mouths. It was Achael who spoke first, “You have
got
to be shitting me.” The fork dropped to her plate, crust bouncing onto the table and into her lap.

Teviot Vallis

Master Blitowyn of Chernasai looked up from his computer screen as the Mahal of his personal work pod of Vesna advisors walked unbidden into his chambers. It was a rare privilege, but one that had been won by the Vesna after demonstrating time and again that the Voiya needed to trust the Vesna’s judgement in certain matters; including when to intrude on their alone time. Blitowyn was currently trying to figure out the complex inheritance rules of his elder brothers’ offspring, versus the two brothers above Blitowyn. He needed to know how much of Rillixiwen’s amassed wealth was going to be frittered away on the two boys and a girl, still in First Training, and on the two arrogant insufferable bastards he had to grow up with. He could have assigned the task to one of his team of Vesna advisors, but every once in a while the Voiya had to actually do something for themselves, just to prove how intelligent and capable they were. Of course, once the girl reached Third Training, he could always take her as a concubine, if she wanted him to, and then have access to her share of his brother’s wealth since the females always got the larger part of the inheritance.

I have a report from the Drones on observation duty, Master.

Proceed.

The Drone that is standing observation duties on the single vessel that landed south of the main human colony site reports no activity since attaining station three days ago. The Drone confirms there has been no movement outside the Lander, there has been no egress or ingress to the Lander and no light is visible from within the Lander. There is a very slight radiation signature, but it is indicative of a power source, and not of the level we would typically consider to be a weapon - though that is not to say it isn’t a weapon. Additionally, the electronic emission readings indicate that while there have been three very short and very high frequency burst transmissions, there is absolutely no other electronic emissions coming from the craft. In fact, between the Drone’s observations and the lack of any activity, human or technological, we can’t confirm that there are any life forms aboard the landing craft. It may be completely automated.

That’s good then.

The Mahal hesitated, marvelling again at how stupid the Voiya were. It wondered how their race ever survived long enough to actually meet the Vesna,
No Master Blitowyn, that is not good.

Blitowyn’s brow furled,
Why not? If it doesn’t have any humans on board, and it isn’t doing anything, then it’s inconsequential to us. Why are we wasting any more time on it?

This particular Vesna had studied much of Earth history and was aware of the story of the trickery of Odysseus at Troy; a story that would be almost appropriate in this situation, but would be completely lost on the Voiya. Instead he used a story from the Voiya’s own history that should be more illustrative for the dimwit in front of him.

Master Blitowyn … distinguished One … do you recall how the third Regent of Eridani Prime was removed from office?

Blitowyn thought for a moment,
yes, vaguely, someone brought him an obeisance on the first anniversary of his Regentship. A small box of something-or-other. Only it wasn’t something-or-other, it was a bomb. As I recall, it eliminated the entire house, killing over 500 family, Vesna and Trigla.

There was a pause between them. It went a little too long. Finally Blitowyn made the first move, leaning back and crossing his arms,
what does the third Regent of Eridani Prime have to do with this?

The mental sigh was almost audible. Had the Vesna not already been aware of how thick his Master could be, he may not have been able to block the sigh of frustration from being transmitted. He may have potential, but right now the Master was being a dolt. The Mahal just smiled a little bit with its little mouth,
the landing craft is quite a bit bigger than that small box of Molyak Berries
.

It took a moment … wait for it … wait for it … there. The lightbulb finally went on over Blitowyn’s head, metaphorically speaking. He quickly sat forward, with an alarmed look on his face, slapping his hands loudly on the table.

You’re telling me they landed a bomb? Why land a bomb there? Why not land it on the colony or land it here? What good would it do there? I thought you weren’t sure it was a bomb?

The Mahal looked around him, took a chair and brought it close to the desk where Blitowyn was sitting, and now looking very anxious.

Master Voiya, I don’t know if it’s a bomb. It is only one of several possibilities we need to consider. It could be an unmanned research station, awaiting human arrival in the future as the colony site has done. It could be that the crew is hibernating or dormant. We know they use hibernating technology in their medical institutes, but we don’t think it has been applied to their space programs. It could be a live and active crew in stealth mode using technology we are not aware of. Those sneaky Eben could have provided them with something new. It could also simply be a supply ship awaiting future migration of the human colony. It could be a complete ruse to try and get us to act prematurely, thus breaking the détente, thus allowing the Eben to attack us. There are many possibilities rapacious One. We must not jump to conclusions, we must gather more intelligence, patiently.

I see
, thought Blitowyn at him. With the painful expression of logic not coming easily the Voiya continued,
if there are no life forms around it, why don’t we just claim it as junk, haul it into the base, and open it up?

The Vesna Mahal put his elbows on the table in front of it, folded its hands, and rested its head against them. It was a very human like movement. He wished for a moment he had been born a Trigla, they didn’t have to go through this type of thing. The Mahal looked up at Blitowyn and gave him one thought,
because it might contain Molyak Berries.

It took another moment, and then the light went on again.
Oh, I see what your concern is.

As I knew you would Master.

Let’s just blow it up then and be done with it.

The Vesna Mahal worked at keeping a stunned expression off his face as he took another moment to process this latest bit of shocking lack of comprehension. Sometimes the sheer stupidity of these overly self-inflated narcissistic cretins just completely surpassed all understanding. The Mahal sat there motionless, staring at the Voiya long enough that it became uncomfortable again. Finally, with a deep breath, the Mahal explained

Master Voiya, if we blow it up and there are humans on board, the human governments will declare us in violation of the détente. If there are no humans on board, but it is a support post for the current human mission under way, then they may also see that as an attack on the present mission and also declare it a violation of the détente. If there are no humans on board and it’s not part of the colony mission, they may well still see the destruction of their craft as an attack on humans in absentia and still claim it’s a violation of the détente. We cannot bring it here, we cannot destroy it there; unless of course, you actually do desire to go to war with the Eben, the hybrids, and the humans.

Blitowyn stood up and paced back and forth a few times. The Vesna Mahal sat there and silently observed him, wondering if there was still a vacancy in the propulsion research facility at Proxima Beta Orionis.

Attend me.

The Mahal stood and began to pace back and forth behind the Master Voiya. He was being careful to stay out of the way of the Voiya’s big feet in the heavy combat boots. They looked ridiculous, but they were the latest fashion amongst the Voiya males.

Mahal, I require you to maintain observation of this lone ship. Do so at a distance, and without interference. I want daily reports on the matter.

As you wish Master,
the Vesna Mahal breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes it was easier to just let them think they were being original. At least he was done with the stupidity.

The Master wasn’t done though, he went on,
Mahal, was it not reported earlier that the design of this ship was of significant difference from the larger human colony ships?

The Mahal paused a moment, a curious expression on his plain and pale face,
yes, Magnificent One, that was so reported.

The Voiya Master paced a few more feet then turned to look at the Vesna with an expression of taxed and overworked mental processing on his face,
then perhaps we don’t have to worry about the human colony after all. Perhaps the humans will take care of their own, as they so often do.

The Mahal was thunderstruck. That thought had never occurred to him. It had not occurred to his work pod or any of the other Vesna pods in the loop of the reports. If this was indeed a rival Earth nation, perhaps they would indeed kill the human in the colony site for them. The Eridani would be rid of the interloper, and neither the human governments nor the Eben could claim a violation of the détente. Brilliance. And it was from the mouth of a mental babe. The fact that there would still be the interloper that had killed the other interloper had, for their immediate consideration, gone unrecognized by both of them.

The Eridani Master, Master Blitowyn of Chernasai, feeling quite superior for his lucky stroke of brilliance, walked to the sideboard and drew a large mug of the cold, golden, frothy, tongue tingling beverage they imported from Earth. He didn’t understand why they called it
bear
, it had no correlation to that large and impressive predatory animal in their northern climates. Since the Mahal was here, might as well get on to the important business.

You have the humans’ main colony site under observation still?

Yes Master
, the still stunned and a bit more respectful Mahal responded.

We are going to proceed with the plan worked out with my house-brothers. We are going let the human provoke us to defense by attacking us.

Attack us with what Sire?

The Master Voiya just looked at the Mahal, and then continued,
do we still have only one Drone on picket?

Three Drones, exalted One.

Make it five.

As you wish, Master.

Make sure the drones are properly briefed and that they clearly understand my Order of Action for this. I don’t want any inconsistencies.
He would never say “like the last one”, because that would be admitting that a drone had failed to follow a Master’s orders. That was something the Voiya, still, would never do.

Yes Sire. As you wish.

Repeat the Order of Action to me. I want to make sure you understand it as well.

That ended the Mahal’s feeling of appreciation for Blitowyn’s recent mental hurdle. The Vesna were usually unflappable about such things, but this Mahal had been dealing with this jackass so long he was more often finding it difficult to maintain his temper around him, promising future or not. Still though, he would have swallowed the acidic taste that would have been in his mouth if the Vesna actually had oral salivary glands, which they don’t.

Master, your Order of Action has five parts to it Sire: one, that the drones observe and record all exterior activity at the human colony site; two, that they do this close to the colony site; three, that they do so without concern for being detected; four, that they harass and annoy the human when he is outside his habitat without taking any action that may be construed as an advance or an attack, and finally five, that they attempt to cause the human to fire a weapon at them, rather than merely throwing rocks, so that we can claim justifiable defense in obliterating the unwanted interloper.