Stellarnet Rebel (2 page)

Her eyes followed him as she tagged his locator for the police, and that’s when she saw it. A Glin—an
alien
—standing on one of the large pipes that crossed the floor. She’d never seen one in real life before. Few people had, except the scientists who studied them about eight or nine years ago. She l’upped more info on her bracer.

The Glin are a humanoid, bipedal, omnivorous, vertebrate, oxygen-breathing extra-terrestrial species with a well-developed neocortex. They were the first intelligent alien life discovered by humanity (the second and only other intelligent species identified to date is Tikati). First Contact was initiated on March 6, 2054, by Dr. Elise Morel and Dr. David Zhu. The Glin are capable of verbal and written language, creative expression, reasoning, problem solving, tool creation and manipulation, religious thought, and aesthetic appreciation. They are tribal hunter-gatherers whose society is based on family units living within village clusters.

Also see Glin
(planet)

She bookmarked the rest to read later and checked the public netcams, hoping to post a link on her blog. But he did not appear on any of the live feeds available from the square. Well, damn. She sent a quick note to tell Seth he needed to put some more netcams in the Colony Square, too, if he got a chance.

Using the camera on her bracer, she lifted her arm and zoomed in on the alien. Activating the sound enhancement, she could hear him through her earrings.
Him.
She assumed he was male. He had a deep voice and a humanlike masculinity, with a broad forehead, square jaw and long, narrow nose.

“One thing you need to understand,” said the alien, “is that when Tikat has taken every lake and river from Glin, when it has finished stealing that which is most sacred and necessary to our existence, it will turn to Asteria. We must unite and stand against them before this happens.”

“Fuck off, frog!” yelled a colonist.

The Glin did have an amphibian-like appearance. His face was pale, but the sides and back of his hairless head were speckled in shades from taupe to grayish-green. He had no visible ears; his eyes were large and dark, all iris and little white. He wore a form-fitting garment similar in shape and texture to a wetsuit, but in pieces—pants, shirt and vest. An iridescent shimmer rippled on its surface when he moved.

“When Tikat invaded my world, when they took away my family, I swore to the Great Ocean that I would devote my life to the freedom of my people,” said the Glin.

“Then go home!” yelled a colonist who looked like he hadn’t eaten or bathed in a long time. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“How I wish I could rest,” said the Glin. “But I cannot rest while there is no hope for peace. Now is time for action.”

Before signing the relocation contract, Genny read everything she could find about Asteria, its binary star system, its tidally locked rotation, its lack of atmosphere, its beginnings as a research outpost. But she knew nothing at all about a war between the alien races. She turned off her camera and searched the Asternet for more information. All of the articles and files about Glin were several years old. The vids were even older. She l’upped Tikat on the Asternet.

The planet TIKAT is home to the TIKATI, an intelligent invertebrate alien species, thought to be similar to arthropods (insects, arachnids, crustaceans), but capable of verbal and written language. It was thought to be uninhabited until September 2055 when underground settlements were discovered.

There was very little additional information. Attempts to study Tikat ceased after several researchers died. It was assumed that Earth ships were ill-equipped to navigate the unusual atmosphere and to deal with the flaring of the star around which Tikat revolved. This and other factors, such as the Kerala Flu scare and a drop in funding, led to the abandonment of Asteria for a few years.

“’Lo, Genny,” said a voice from her arm. Seth appeared on her bracer.

“’Lo, Seth.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. Tessaro is an asshole. Why you in the market? Do you need anything?”

“I’m on my way to an Irish pub.”

“Aileen’s?” She wasn’t surprised he knew about it. Their vague, Irish-American sense of connection to the leprechaun-infested land of their ancestors was one of the things they had in common. Seth had the Air & Space Force emblem tattooed on one arm, and a shamrock knot on the other. “I’ll meet you there.” His window was replaced by a small map. A moving dot indicated his location in relation to hers.

“See you.” She dropped her arm, ending the call. Before she left the square, she moved a little closer to the Glin, until she could hear him without using her earrings.

“If we wish to be free—if we mean to preserve these privileges and not abandon the noble struggle in which we have, both our races, been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon—the cause of liberty—we must fight together.”

Would she be breaking the story of this war to the Solar System? Omigod,
that
would put her blog in the INC Star 20.

A priority chime sounded from her bracer, and this time she saw the rugged face of Colonel Blaze Villanueva, the officer in charge of the military zone. At a glance, he looked to be in his late thirties, which wasn’t much older than Genny. But she knew from reading his bio on the Stellarnet that he had to be at least twenty years older. The officer’s true age was hinted in the strands of steel gray in his sable hair and the creases in the corners of his ice blue eyes, but he’d obviously had a few cellular regenerations.

“Genevieve O’Riordan, welcome to Asteria. How are you settling in?”

“Fine, thank you, Colonel.”

“You’re a civilian. Call me Blaze.”

“A’ight, Blaze. Call me Genny.”

“I would welcome you in person, but we’re trying to contain some biotech-resistant strain of E. coli in sector B, and there was a broken sewage processor flooding Q. It smells like hell on a hot Saturday night down there, let me tell you.”

“No problem.”

“My staff are at your disposal. I’ll do my damnedest to be available, but I tend to be busier than a three-legged sheepdog.”

“I understand.”

“I suppose you’re determined to dig up something out here like the space station safety scandal. Yeah, I read your blog posts about that. Just do me one favor, will you?” He went on without waiting for her to accept or decline. He was a man used to being listened to. “You find anything serious, anything at all, out here on Asteria, and you let me know before it goes online. That’s the deal. I don’t want to open my queue and get hit with a corrupt comptroller or a surprise visit from General Ostberg or something. I’m not telling you what you can and can’t blog, but at least give me some notice on the serious shitola so I don’t look like a total asshat. Fair enough?”

“Yes, Blaze.” She agreed it was fair, from his perspective, but that didn’t mean she would comply. “So, can you explain why there’s a Glin giving St. Crispin’s Day speeches in the center of the colony?”

“Oh, you’ve seen
him
, have you?”

“And there’s a war?”

“Don’t get all riled up. I’m still sorting him out. Look, why don’t you have dinner with me and a few of my airwing captains tonight? You won’t feel so alone out here, or worried about raving aliens.”

“I’m not alone. One of your Airmen is a friend of mine.”

“Which one?”

“Senior Airman Seth MacGowan, with the 795th Comm Squad.”

“Lucky bastard. Bring him along.” An invite and a map appeared on her display.

After the convo, she updated her status to
Having dinner with Colonel Blaze Villaneuva
with a link to the colonel’s long public bio.

The alien was still regaling his unreceptive audience. “We face a formidable adversary, but when shall we be any stronger? Next week? Next year? When the Glin are destroyed, relocated, starving, or dead? Shall we acquire the means of effective resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope until our enemies have bound us hand and foot?”

“I’d like to bind you hand and foot,” called out a man selling salad greens. “Shut up, you’re hurting business.”

The Glin addressed the vendor. “Business? It is the business of every decent individual to interfere with cruelty and oppression wherever they find it.”

For a moment, the orbs of his dark gray eyes met hers, and she looked away. It was uncanny, knowing that she was so close to someone who was not from Earth. No alien had ever visited the solar system. Yet he spoke her language. How did that happen?

Genny noticed Seth’s dot nearing the pub, so she headed to Sector I. Despite being so close to the bustle of the Colony Square, the public thoroughfares in Sector I were quiet.

One burly man in a long brown coat and battered flat cap leaned on the wall and ignored her until she walked past him. “Where you headed?” he asked. The tone wasn’t threatening but she wouldn’t call it friendly, either.

“I’ve got a delivery from Earth.” Her hand drifted to the 9-1-1 and shock apps on her bracer. “And I’ve had enough grief over it.”

The man chuckled. “No good deed goes unpunished, does it?” He glanced at the crate, which was displaying the correct name and address again. Without a word, he jerked his head for her to follow him to block I-55.

“Owen,” he said, when he saw her glance at her bracer for a proximity ID and none appeared. “And yourself?”

“Genevieve O’Riordan, with INC.”

The wall outside the pub was covered with a morphing Celtic knot pattern in which the word
Aileen’s
appeared and disappeared. Owen opened the door for her and then returned, she assumed, to his post.

The pub was a colonization block like hers, but with one big room instead of separate compartments. Vids and slideshows of Irish dancers, musicians and pub goers, nostalgic “Ireland-that-was” pics, various Irish flags, maps and other statistics for Irish cities covered the walls. And there was music, but it came from human beings on the stage.

She updated her ticker.
Aileen’s Pub has live Irish music on traditional instruments
.

A woman with shining silver hair and eyes stepped out from behind the bar.

Genny glanced at her bracer for a proximity ID. This was Mary Aileen Madigan, the pub’s namesake. “I just got in from Oberon Station and I’ve got something for you.”

Aileen smiled her thanks. “You didn’t have to drag it all the way across hell’s half-acre.”

“I wanted to see what hell looked like, now that I’m a resident.”

As Aileen opened the box, the musicians stopped playing and gathered to watch.

“Is that what I think it is?” asked the fiddler. Her bracer ID’d him as Danny Slane. He looked haggard in the way of those who’d never had a regeneration. He probably wasn’t much older than Genny.

The crate was packed with bottles of Bushmills whiskey in custom-fitted foam packaging. Aileen handed Genny the first bottle. “Here, have one for your trouble.”

“No, you don’t have to do that.” A bottle of whiskey all the way from Earth had to be worth at least six thousand units.

“Have it,” Aileen insisted. “That’s the way things work out here. We’ve got to take care of each other. No one else will.” Aileen waved the whiskey bottle over her arm. The label on the bottle changed color from black to red and began tickering Genny’s name.

Danny nodded toward the door. “Is that MacGowan? ’Sup, you lousy bastard?” he asked cheerfully.

Seth had replaced his Air & Space Force uniform with a pair of sim-leather pants and a skin-hugging digital T-shirt with a dragon graphic that prowled over his chest and biceps. He ignored Danny and gathered Genny into an enthusiastic embrace. “Oh, my god, Genny. It’s good to see you again.”

“You’re doing more than seeing her,” said Danny.

“Go play your fiddle,” Seth suggested.

“Ah, yes, story of my life,” Danny sighed. “The most nimble fingers in the universe, but always playing with myself.”

“I missed you.” Seth breathed the words into her ear with a sincerity that surprised and flattered her. The gen-mod that made his skin smell like the outdoors—fresh air, pine and lavender—brought to mind the hours they’d spent in her berth on the Google space station
Perspective
. She’d missed him, too.

Seth walked her back to her compartment after dinner. “I’m going to get a ration of shit from my sergeant.”

“For what?” Genny pulled out her data key and opened the door to her block’s private hallway. The door chimed and Seth followed her inside.

“For spending three hours with the Old Man, and my squad having to cover for me.”

“I’m sorry, Blaze thought I was all alone out here and I told him I wasn’t. I didn’t think he would invite you to dinner.”

“I’ll be pulling triple shifts to make up for it.”

She hugged his arm, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Maybe you should go to work then?”

“No, I said I’d help you move all those boxes. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

At her compartment door, she used the data key again. Inside, she touched her bracer to trigger the lights, which glowed from the ceiling. More than half of the cargo was gone.

“What the hell?”

“Check your hall cam,” Seth suggested, and she was already on it. He began relocating the remaining crates into the hallway.

She l’upped the archive and saw members of both the Air & Space Force and the colony police letting themselves in and rolling crates away. “That’s crap,” she said. “They didn’t even email me a notice or anything, they just let themselves in. Do you think Blaze sent them?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask
Blaze?
” Seth’s tone was acrid.

“You suddenly don’t like your CO?” She helped him stack the stuff in front of the glowing Asteria logo opposite her door.

“I don’t like him throwing his brassy dick at you.”

She laughed. “Well, he didn’t like me enough to answer my questions about aliens. How did a Glin get here? They don’t have space travel. They don’t even use fire.”

“Does it matter?”

“It’s my job?”

Seth set down the box in his hands and reached for her, pulling her close. “Please be careful, Genny. This place is dangerous. And I feel like it’s my fault you’re out here, cuz of my stupid email.”

“No, Seth…”

His fingers pushed her viridian hair back from her tattooed eyebrows. “If anything happened to you, I’d lose it.”

Seth was hot, so smoking hot he should be declared an oxygen violation. There were several priority notices blinking on her bracer—email to answer, comments to moderate, impatient colonists with crates to pick up, a garden that needed tending. But she ignored them. Instead, she whispered, “Can you stay a little longer?”

“Long enough.” He pulled her into her compartment and kicked the door shut with a clang.

With practiced ease, she unfastened his uniform and he untied the cords that stretched her recycled fiber dress over the curves of her body.

“Should I turn on the netcam?”

“Why?” He gripped her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length.

“So we can watch it later.”

“And put it on your blog? Genny, you’re not a net-whore. Do you need money? Is that why you came out here?”

“No, I don’t need money. And I wouldn’t put it on my blog.”
Well, not if this is your reaction
, she thought.

“Good.” They moved toward the bed built into the wall. “There are some things I want all to myself.”

Genny wondered, not for the first time, if Seth was lucky enough to be naturally well-endowed, or whether his parents had paid extra for the gen-mod. But it would be rude to ask.

***

“These are the times that try men’s souls!” said the unmistakable, sonorous voice of the Glin.

“Well, damn it, where is he?” She couldn’t see him, but she could hear him amidst the sea of sounds and voices. She couldn’t give her followers a glimpse of Seth’s endowments, but she wished she could at least give them information about the Glin-Tikat war.

“Tyranny is not easily conquered, but the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly.”

One feed picked up his voice better than the others. It must have been very close to him, but he was out of view. She opened this stream on her bracer so she could listen to him while she tied on a dress, grabbed a shawl, strapped on her boots and ran a hand through her hair.

“I know that humans value their freedom,” he said. “We Glin also love freedom. To us it is more than anything else in the universe, except love. But you cannot have the one without the other.”

Throwing a few bananas into her bag and chewing a vitamin pill, she went out the door.

“Hey, Genny.” Taya was coming in from the stairwell. In a low voice she said, “I wanted to give you the heads up that Wyatt and I might be moving into my aunt’s block.”

“Why?”

The children
. Taya mouthed the words, her back to the hallway netcam. She nodded her head toward Mose’s compartment. “You’re not going to give us crap about the contract, are you?”

“No. If you don’t want to live here, that’s your business, but…”

“Your Interplanetary Declaration of Human Rights states that everyone has the right to life, liberty and security,” said the Glin’s voice through Genny’s bracer.

“What are you watching?” Taya peered at Genny’s forearm.

“The alien in the Colony Square.”

“This declaration states that no one shall be held in slavery or servitude,” said the Glin. “No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile.”

“How would an alien get in the colony?” Taya stuck her data key into her door. “That’s someone doing cosplay.”

Taking the stairwell down to Level Two, Genny ate one of the bananas, dropping the peel in a compost chute. She didn’t doubt the alien’s authenticity. Blaze didn’t deny it was a real Glin, either, he was just reluctant to discuss the topic. Maybe Taya was one of those people who still believed aliens were a hoax simulated by the early Asteria researchers in order to keep their funding. Urban legends and false information persisted for a long time on the Stellarnet.

“Your Interplanetary Declaration also states that everyone has the right to take part in the government of her or his own country. Even more important to us, we Glin believe that everyone has the right—and the duty—to govern, unimpeded, the direction of her or his own individual destiny. But the Tikati seek to impose their will over all others, and they have outlawed any legitimate attempt by the Glin to determine our own fate.”

In Sector L, the thoroughfare was lined with several sleeping colonists. Genny wondered if they’d lost their data keys. But, on closer examination, they didn’t look like they’d ever lived in compartments, bathed or eaten on a regular basis. More relos. Seth told her that blocks sometimes showed up with twenty or thirty people inside and no garden or recycling systems. It put a serious strain on the colony, but if they were sent back, they might die waiting to be tugged back to Earth.

Sending people to Asteria like that was immoral, in her opinion, and it violated ESCC guidelines. She would return later to interview them and hoped her blog would prompt an investigation.

“One nation of Earth wrote in its sacred documents, ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, and have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.’” The Glin recited each word with ringing clarity and impassioned exuberance. “In time, ‘all men’ was understood in its truest sense, to mean that
all human beings
were endowed with these rights, be they male, female, neither or both; be they young or old; be they one color or another; be they believers or non-believers, rich or poor, right or wrong. Perhaps one day, ‘all men’ will include even we Glin, as well.”

Genny left Sector L and entered the Colony Square. She could see the alien standing on the pipe, as before. When she was close enough to hear his voice in person, she turned off the feed on her bracer.

“All of those who are self-aware are desirous of liberty. We Glin know that liberty is essential to happiness, and courage is essential to liberty. Those who would reap the benefit of freedom must undergo the fatigue of fearlessly supporting it. Who will stand with me, to liberate my world?”

Genny took a deep breath, squelched her apprehension, and stepped right in front of him. He didn’t look at her, but scanned the Colony Square, the area around and behind her, before he turned his gaze downward.

“I was hoping for a larger response, but I will take what I can get. I am Duin.” The way he pronounced the name sounded like a drop of water falling into a pool.

“Doowinn?” she repeated.

“Yes.” His smile was warm and encouraging. He extended his hand, which had five fingers like hers but was speckled grayish-green across the back, pale and pearlescent underneath, and was slightly webbed, up to the lower knuckles.

She found herself thinking,
I’m about to touch a freaking alien!
as she stood there examining his outstretched fingers.

“And you are…?” he prompted.

“Oh.” She laughed nervously, looking up at him. “I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just… you’re the first alien I’ve ever met. I’m Genevieve O’Riordan.”

Taking his hand, she found it cool and smooth, not clammy as she’d expected. A strange feeling came over her, like she was falling into him, even though he was standing above her. She took a slow, deep breath, trying to clear her head of the sense of vertigo. He let go of her hand and the feeling went away, but she still felt woozy.

“Genevieve O’Riordan,” he repeated slowly. “An aqueous name.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but decided it was a compliment. “Thank you. My friends call me Genny.”

“Of
course
,” he said. “I am pleased to meet you, J’ni.” He pronounced it
jeh-nee
. “You are the first human to ever smile at me.”

“Oh. Um. I’m sorry.”

He leaned down until his face was close to hers, and he peered at her with large gray eyes that glistened like wet stones. She could see her own reflection in them. He had no hair, but short, white eyelashes rimmed his lids.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a friendly face.” He hopped down from the pipe. On level ground they were the same height, though his muscular physique, wide shoulders and expressive gestures made him seem large in comparison. She glanced down to see if his feet were webbed too, but they were covered by boots made of a similar material as the rest of his suit. Gesturing to the pipe, he said, “I don’t have a box of soap, so this must suffice. Nor do I have an ax.”

“Why would you need an ax?”

“To grind it,” he said, shaking his fist. “And when it is sharp, I will use it to fight Tikati. But we Glin have not developed the metallurgical arts.”

“Only the linguistic ones,” she said. “You speak my language very well.”

“Because I stand on the shoulders of giants.” He waved his hands with a dramatic flourish. Genny wondered if all Glin were as animated as Duin.

“What does that mean?” She examined the shape of his head and his lack of ears. He had only slits, but had no problem hearing her.

“I study your literature, and borrow from your quotations, poems and political speeches. They are a wellspring of inspiration.”

“Yes, I’ve been listening to you.”

“As you say.” He pointed to the right. “You were over there, then you moved.” He pointed a little closer. “And today, finally—” he gestured with both hands to her present position, “—you are here.”

He doesn’t miss a thing
.

“Why today?” he asked. “Why did you decide to arrive, today? To wash up on my shore?”

“I want to know more about you.” Which was true, but then she found herself adding even more honesty. “And you seemed so alone. It’s terrible to be alone in a crowd.”

Duin grew very still. “It is,” he agreed, studying her face. Then he smiled and swept his hands out in a wide gesture. “Would you walk with me? Since I cannot swim here, I must perambulate. I like to stay in motion.”

“I noticed.” She kept pace with him as he walked out of the Colony Square and down one of the thoroughfares. Heads turned and stared, but he didn’t seem to care. Genny was not a self-conscious person, but she thought she might crack if people stared at her like that in real life.

“Perambulate. Isn’t that a lovely word?” Duin said. “I added it to my vocabulary recently. It makes a sound like water sloshing in the bottom of a small boat.” He swished his hands back and forth as he said the word again, stressing each syllable.
“Perambulate
.”

“How did you learn my language?”

“I will show you.” He drew a small device from the front of his vest. “A very good friend of mine, an elder and philosopher named Tucloup, was given a translator when your scientists visited Glin. I use it extensively and update it when I can.”

He handed her the device. It displayed English alongside some symbols she didn’t recognize. They looked like dots and splashes.

Duin made a series of sounds like gurgling water, and a voice from the translator said,
“Are you familiar with my language?”

Genny shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh, well, no, you wouldn’t need to be,” Duin conceded, returning to English. He turned the device off and tucked it into the front of his suit.

“It must have taken you a long time to learn.”

“I am still learning.” He laughed. “I used this translator to teach myself. But after I arrived here, I realized that there were so many words it did not contain. Are there more like
perambulate?
”

“There are several words for movement,” she said. “But they’re not used much in conversation. There’s meander, amble, promenade, saunter, wander, roam, step, mosey…”

“Amazing.”

“If I think of any more, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you. We have a similar phenomenon on Glin with the word
water
. There are two-hundred and eighteen words for it.”

“There are that many kinds of water?”

“Certainly. There’s hunting water, safe water, shallow water, deep water, muddy water, birth water, drinking water… How many ways do you say
water?
”

“We might call it
liquid
or
H2O
.”