The Fifth Civilization: A Novel (17 page)

So Roan made some adjustments to the ship’s autopilot so it
would handle more like the
Dunnock
.
In a sense, it meant overriding some safety protocols, but the settings should
make for a smoother landing. When that was all prepped, Roan let the ship do
all the work and put his feet up on the controls. He fingered the PA and paged Kel.

In a minute she responded through the internal com. “Yes,
Nick, what is it?”

“We’re beginning our landing, captain.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. I can feel our descent.”

“Is there a time you’d like me to come down to the cargo bay
and meet you before the Bauxens come aboard?”

No hesitation. “Uh, Nick, there’s no need. Just stay in the
cockpit
 
‘til I call you. Make sure
the Bauxens know exactly what to expect. I’ll take care of everything on this
end. But thanks, you’ve been a great help.”

“Sounds good.”
 
He turned the intercom off. Yes, Kel wanted to stay far away from him
now. Outside, jets of flame shot up and around the cockpit windows. They were
entering the atmosphere, and all Roan could do was pray that the heat shields
hadn’t deteriorated too much. The hull started to rattle and groan, but Roan’s
mind turned to when he should crash the departure party downstairs, and what he
should say to the Bauxens.

He hadn’t snapped, had he?

The
Hanyek
dropped
out of lightspeed behind the
Colobus
,
just a few kilometers outside sensor range. Bauxa was just a green dot on the
viewscreen, millions of kilometers away, but Grinek knew the planet would be expecting
them. No doubt the planet’s long-range sensors had indicated a Kotaran ship in
the solar system, barreling toward its center.

Grinek swiveled nervously in his command chair as he
pondered the situation. On a typical mission, any early-warning systems
would’ve been destroyed and Bauxa threatened with attack if the suspects were
not handed over. But Grinek had another tactic in mind. The
Colobus
had to stop somewhere on the
planet; with Earth warrants useless on Bauxa, the Earthmen could move about
freely on it. Grinek, meanwhile, only had to offer the right price for their
capture. Kotarans had better relations with the Bauxens than with any other
species, though that wasn’t saying much.

“Several ships coming our way,” Sisal whined, lost in the
data of a monitoring console. “Shall I order them destroyed, Commander?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Sisal. We are here as guests.”
 
In another time, any ship that did not
heed orders to turn around would have been instantly destroyed. But that would
not be necessary, as money was more powerful than weaponry here. Unlike on
Earth, there were many on Bauxa who had no qualms over revealing the Earthmen’s
location.

“Wait until the planet contacts us, which should be
momentarily. Then we will bargain.”

The lift doors opened and Grinek didn’t even have to swivel
to know whose footsteps he heard behind him. Vorjos had arrived to inspect the
bridge, and make sure the Bauxa trip was proceeding smoothly.

“I came as soon as we slowed to real space,” Vorjos said,
settling cat-like at Grinek’s side. “Hopefully the situation here is handled
with more…
tact
than the one at
Earth.”

“Your worries are unfounded, Observer,” Grinek breathed.
“Just watch.”

Vorjos straightened and did as he was told, fixating on the
green orb growing larger by the minute. Grinek wondered if Vorjos had ever
dealt with Bauxens—he himself had to once, being called to the planet as
part of security delegation to deal with a threat to Kotara’s embassy. Some
local gangsters had apparently taken it upon themselves to plan a robbery of
the compound and the Kotaran delegation got wind of this. Grinek became famous
in intelligence circles for finding the plotters before the Bauxens and
dispensing the appropriate amount of justice. Though the Bauxens howled at this
violation of sovereignty, the right price dissuaded the incident from damaging
relations.

“We’re being hailed, Commander,” said Annel, the comms
officer. In a month, Grinek had finally learned the female’s name and was
always impressed by her work ethic.

“Put it through.”

They were greeted with what sounded like the garbled
gnashing of teeth and a mouthful of static. Grinek caught a few English words
and the lilt at the end of a sentence that indicated a question had been asked.

“Who here speaks English?” Grinek barked, and Adjutant Annel
nimbly raised her hand. Grinek could speak and understand the language, but it
always left a bad taste in his mouth. “Can you converse with him?” Grinek asked
Annel, knowing that the channel was still open and the Bauxens were probably
hearing all of this. There were more English questions on the other end.

“I can, Commander, but I would feel more confident handling
such a delicate matter in our own tongue.”

Grinek knew Annel was right. No sense in leaving such an
important matter to a man who just might cause misinterpretation. These were
sensitive talks, and they required a tactful communicator. He knew Vorjos would
agree.

“Very well,” Grinek said. “Bauxen control center! This is
the Kotaran ship
Hanyek
. Find someone
who speaks our language, immediately! We have an urgent message about
fugitives.”
 
Grinek shouted the name
of his language a few more times, hoping that the person on the other end would
notice it and scramble to find a translator.

“Perhaps not the most diplomatic route, Commander,” Vorjos
said as an aside.

“Fuck your diplomacy.”

In a minute there was more scrambling on the other end, as
if someone had just been found and rushed to the com.

“
Hanyek
, this is
Bauxen Control. How can we help you?”
 
Whoever was on the other end was using
passable Kotaran at best, and it stung Grinek’s ears like a hundred hornets.
Yet he had no choice but to converse with this man.

“This is the Royal Cruiser
Hanyek
. We are on a mission directly from Kotara itself. We need to
apprehend several Earthmen fugitives. They should be arriving ahead of us.”

“Our records show no such ship,” replied the Bauxen officer,
perhaps a little too quickly. Obviously, the Earthmen had already worked out
some kind of deal with them to allow them an unhindered landing. This was not
good news.

“It is a vessel from Earth,” Grinek repeated. “It is called
the
Colobus
, a Type-B freighter with
registry C1-C4A, and were tracking it not long ago. Your records must be
mistaken. Now hear this: We will be apprehending the vessel and expect the full
cooperation of the planetside authorities. We need to land immediately and it
would be prudent if you would relay to the authorities that this Earth ship
must be detained.”
 
Grinek looked at
Vorjos. He did not believe this tactic would work, but Vorjos was watching the
situation with interest.

“
Hanyek
, one
moment please.” The Bauxen switched off his end and was no doubt conversing
with higher-ups. It was how such situations always worked.

“Commander,” Vorjos said, “you are not to use force against
the Bauxens under any circumstances. If that happens, I have the authority to
end this mission.”

“It will not come to that, Observer.”
 
Grinek pounded on his armrest
impatiently.

The Bauxen clicked back on and spoke again in his tortured
Kotaran speech. “I am transferring you to the security services. Please
hold.”
 
An intolerable recording in
Bauxen played, probably an advertisement, as well as some dreadful music.
Everyone on the bridge suffered it in silence.

“
Hanyek
!” said a
cheerful voice suddenly, after a few minutes. “Welcome to Bauxa! What can we do
for you on our lovely planet?”
 
His
Kotaran was much better than the space traffic controller’s, and he seemed
quite exuberant.

“Are you the security chief?” Grinek asked.

“Of course,” the man replied. “My name is Chief Yohvins; I
am responsible for space security. They told me a Kotaran ship was in trouble,
and when that happens, of course I drop everything and come to its
assistance.”
 
Grinek thought the man
was being sarcastic, but his grasp of humor was not the best, so he didn’t even
bother agonizing over the question.

“Chief Yohvins, this is Commander Grinek. Your personnel
must apprehend the human ship
Colobus
immediately. It entered your planetary system moments ago, right before us. Be
advised that it is carrying very dangerous fugitives who have killed Kotarans,
and may indeed have some held captive aboard. We are currently on an assignment
to arrest these fugitives and impound their vessel. Is this clear?”

“Kotaran prisoners, huh?”
 
Grinek thought he heard what sounded
like chewing on the other end. Was this Chief Yohvins eating? “That sounds
serious! And they’ve killed Kotarans? They must be a tough crowd. I’d sure hate
to tangle with them.”

“Well, Yohvins, I trust you have dispatched vessels to
apprehend them, then?”

Yohvins sighed and gave what sounded like a burp on the
other end. “Well,
Hanyek
, I’d love
to, believe me, but the fact is this
Colobus
has already been granted safe passage, according to my information.
Unfortunately I can’t tell you where, or when, but I can tell you they have
some powerful benefactors on this planet. You really should have come to me
earlier, as I normally handle the interception of ships in
orbit
. The department responsible for on-planet
apprehensions—”

“You mean to tell me you
can’t
apprehend my ship
? This is a direct order—
request
, from the Kotaran government!”
 
Grinek bolted from his seat and shouted,
fist in the air, at the viewscreen, which was filling up with Bauxa. Freighters
and transports zoomed by outside.

More munching on the other end. “You know what, I just
thought of something. It’s true that this ship is really out of my hands…but I
do know people that could help you out. I can direct you to them, if you want.”

“Do so immediately, Chief Yohvins!”
 
But these negotiations were wearisome. Grinek
breathed through his teeth, then sat back down in his seat. He knew what was
coming.

“Of course, that would mean significant manpower diversions
for them…and those are not cheap. I guess you should consider this request a
service…and by that I mean there is a fee involved. Tell me, Grinek, are you
good for paying this fee?”

This Yohvins was trying his patience. Even though Grinek
knew a bribe was coming, he hoped for a brief time this could be avoided. He
gave a look at Vorjos, who wiggled his ears in approval of the bribe’s
transfer.

“Very well,” Grinek said. “We will pay a fee. Once your men
have apprehended the Earthmen—”

“Oh no no, Commander, it must be paid
before
. Luckily, I have an account all set up for this type of
situation. I will upload the details to you…or would you rather I bill your
embassy? I believe they have handled these types of things in the past.”

Grinek gave a look to Vorjos, who again wiggled his ears in
approval. Vorjos would have to be the one explaining the embassy’s bill to the
poor clerk who received it.

“Bill them,” Grinek growled.

“Very good! Let me just put those details in now…oh, I’ll do
that later. Lucky for you, I have all the information on this Earthman ship
with me right now! Let’s see…oh yes, the men who can help you. I will send the
details to your ship. They are quite good, they helped us with some security
matters earlier in the year.”

“Your service is appreciated,” Grinek said, rolling the
phrase off as mechanically as possible. A computer screen beeped as the
information was being transferred to the ship’s memory banks. Grinek utterly
despised the Bauxens and their bribes—it meant they were the ones in
power, not him—but sometimes you had to deal with unsavory types to
accomplish your goal.

Case in point: “You handled that well,” Vorjos told the
commander.

“I must remember that name: Chief Yohvins,” Grinek said.
“Perhaps one of my contacts in the embassy can deal with him.”

“Still here!” Yohvins said over the open channel. “I suppose
you don’t need me to wish you luck or to thank you.”

Grinek looked to Annel and the officer quickly switched off
the channel. That was an unfortunate gaffe. He then swiveled in his chair to
the station where the information was uploaded.

“We should land in the city of Erwo Seg,” the officer
reviewing the Bauxen data said, without having to be prompted. “The information
says we will meet the Bauxen associates there. Terminal Five, Hangar Four.”

“Good. Prepare for landing.”
 
Grinek pounded his fist on the armrest.
Everything was proceeding so rapidly now; they would soon get what they wanted.
Out the viewscreen, the jagged edges of Bauxa’s continents became more defined,
getting larger as the
Hanyek
angled
down to them. Grinek turned and expected to see Vorjos’ smug expression coupled
with a witty comment, but the Observer was nowhere to be found.

Though Bauxa looked green from orbit, the planet’s sky was
tinted a perpetual mustardy gamboge, owing to the pollution as much as to the
O-class sun above them. As the
Colobus
sliced through clouds, it collected moisture as well as acid rain, and Roan
told himself to program the computers to go
around
any cloud banks the next time he came. Still, he was confident the hull of the
ship could stand a little industrial waste.

When the clouds parted, the Port of Siy unfolded below them.
It was one of the largest in the known galaxy. Siy was laid out in a circular
pattern, much like a painted target, with the bullseye being tall skyscrapers
and each outer ring filled with residential houses and vast warehouses. The
city itself was slightly elevated as one went toward the bullseye, a holdover
from the days when Bauxens walked to the central business district for work and
all wanted to travel downhill after a long, hard day. Since virtually no Bauxen
walked anywhere anymore, this design was merely a quaint holdover from the old
days.

One glimpse of the city was all Roan needed to see. He got
up from his chair and left for the cargo bay, leaving an oblivious Port of Siy
official chit-chatting with the empty captain’s chair. The
Colobus
was coming into Hangar 114 on autopilot.

Roan worked his way through the ship, nary a crewman to be
found, when he came upon David stepping out of his quarters at the instant Roan
walked past. He couldn’t tell if this was by design or not. Maybe the alien
wanted to have a heart-to-heart with Roan, and waited to hear footsteps with that
teal brain of his pressed up against the door.

“David,” Roan said.

“Mr. Roan,” said the Nyden. “Why are you not in the
cockpit?”

Roan actually felt guilty trying to keep the truth from
David, since to do otherwise was like lying to a child: it always set David up
for disappointment. Better to just come out with it.

“I’m going to the cargo bay to see Kel. We’re going to be
landing shortly.”

“Yes, I know. But I thought you were supposed to be piloting
the
Colobus
.”
 
Who
the hell told him that?
Not that it mattered in the least, because he was
going aft whether David liked it or not.

“The autopilot is a convenient tool. Kel should learn to use
it more often.”
 
Roan picked up his
walk, and David trotted along beside him.

“You’re not going to kill the prisoner, are you?”
 
David asked. There it was, the elephant
cowering in the corner. Ever since Roan had aimed the gun at the prisoner a
month ago, David’s attitude toward Roan had been noticeably wary. Roan didn’t
see why it was a big deal. The Kotaran was a murderer and a beast, for God’s
sake. But evidently this creature looked upon murder as a wrong, whether it was
of a savage or not.

“No, I’m not going to kill him, David.”

David closed his eyes and nodded.

Roan had done his best to stay out of everyone’s way for all
those weeks in deep space, and most of the crew was fine with that. But with
David it was different. While mostly a recluse on their voyage, whenever David
emerged from his quarters he sought out Roan. He’d come down to the mess hall
when Roan was eating and sit near him. He’d stop by the engine room and try to
engage Roan about his thoughts on Aaron’s discoveries. At first, Roan ignored
the man. He blamed David for Aaron’s death, and he thought the Nyden had some
kind of judging evil eye. Roan would take his meals in his quarters to avoid
David, or purposely blow out a steam valve to drown out a philosophical
discussion.

But David wore him down. At some point Roan realized both of
them were outsiders. The crew hated Roan because he got them into this mess,
and David because a Nyden was not to be trusted. Some of the crew probably
thought he was going to eat them. And so their shared ostracism drew them
closer. Roan no longer called David a
duck
or
pigeon
. No longer left the room
when he arrived. He’d accepted David as a man of curiosity instead of judgment.
And Roan was curious to understand the man who knew Aaron best.

A golden glow emanated from David’s head reflected in the
dark hallway ahead of him. Usually, that glow meant something profound was
about to come out of the alien’s mouth.

 
“Then you’ve
come to realize, Mr. Roan, that killing is the worst act an intelligent
creature can do?”

“No, I don’t. I’ve killed before. In self-defense.”

“I remember. The Kotaran in Tokyo.”

“I used to be in the Earth military, David. The Kotaran
wasn’t my first.”

David’s eyes bulged. His head darkened from gold to indigo.
But this topic was not something Roan wanted to get into. Roan started walking,
but David raised a talon as he passed.

“If everyone believed in the evil of murder, there would be
no need for self-defense.”

It was too early to debate a pacifist. Such debates always
led to a Mobius strip of a headache. Right now, Roan could think about one
thing.

They reached the cargo room in silence, and Roan heard
voices just beyond the entry doors. There was some commotion underway on the
bay floor. Roan made his way past a technician, Lucas, who was on duty at the
controls and didn’t seem to notice the human and the alien saunter past. From
the balcony, Roan saw that the container containing the Kotaran was being
lifted by forklift. Jasper and another crewman were standing around, weapons
drawn, while Kel looked on. She motioned for the vehicle to turn around and
angle its way toward the lower departure doors.

“It appears they are going to transport the Kotaran in his
cell,” David said, appearing suddenly at Roan’s sides. Roan nodded. Rather than
take the tiger out of the cage, they were handing the cage to the Bauxens.
Better for them to worry about it than us.

“Frankly, Mr. Roan, I find the manner of his confinement
terribly cruel.”

The ship’s lights began blinking blue, the signal the
Colobus
was about to land on a planetary
surface. These alerts were color-coded, of course, so the crew could
alternatively jump in panic or readiness depending on the situation. On the
cargo floor, no one seemed to react too much to the flashing lights, except the
forklift driver, who sped up his vehicle as he angled it toward the exterior
doors.

“I hope these Bauxens know what they’re getting into,” Roan
said.

“Of course they do,” David said with a snide touch. “My
friend on the planet has dealt with many Kotarans before.”

“What do you mean, your
friend
?”
 
Roan looked at David with a slightly
astonished expression.
What do I not know
about you that I should?

“The friend we are meeting on Bauxen. He is Prince Duvurn
Dedro—actually, his station is not quite equivalent to what you would
call a prince on Earth. He is more like the cousin of royalty. Do you
understand this? Anyway, Duvurn has agreed to help us with our mission to
Aaron’s planet, and his men will hand over the Kotaran to the proper
authorities.”

Roan nodded, leaning against the balcony railing. So the
Nyden had been in contact with the planet. How fitting that Roan was not told
of any of this. Kel probably knew all about it, too.

“Captain Streb was the one that suggested I contact the
Prince,” David continued, as if reading Roan’s mind. Roan tensed his body. “And
I can assure you it was done over a secure channel, with an encrypted com
Captain Streb and I developed. I doubt very much our pursuers picked it up.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“You are surprised I knew someone of power on Bauxa. I have
made many friends on many planets, Mr. Roan. Not only was it part of my job,
but part of the duty of every Nyden. ‘All species are family, every member your
kin’—so said the First Monk. Prince Duvurn was more than happy to help
out the
Colobus
and offered us much support.
He has a vast fortune, you know, and in this case he is more than obligated to
use it to do good.”

“How gracious of him.”
 
Roan wondered
where
this Prince
got this vast wealth and what he would be asking in return. Before he could
voice any of these concerns, crewman Lucas came out onto the balcony and
noticed the two observers.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the cockpit?” he asked Roan.
Jesus, did
everyone
know where he was
assigned?

“Aren’t you supposed to be in that control room?” Roan
countered, smugly.

“The captain wants to handle this herself, with as few
people as possible. She doesn’t want unannounced guests messing anything
up.”
 
Lucas gestured with his thumb
back through the door. “Shall we?”

Roan pointed to David. “Can
he
stay?”

Lucas smirked. “I don’t care what the pigeon does. If he can
talk to the Bauxens, that’s great, he can stay. But you, Roan, get out of the
cargo bay.”

Apparently everyone was aware of the Bauxen deal but Roan.
This information shunning had to stop. Roan simply turned away from the control
tech and, to a shout of “hey!” walked to a gangplank that led down to the bay
floor. Just as he jumped off the last few steps, the ship shook and Roan nearly
tumbled on his face. A quick embrace of the railing saved his nose. The lights
flickered and then slowly brightened from blue to their normal hue.

“Looks like we did it,” said one of the crewmen directing
the Kotaran-cell lifting. Roan saw that Kel was now staring him down.

“Why the hell are you here?” she shouted.

“I thought you might need someone—”

“Go back to the cockpit!” she shouted. “I can handle things
here fine without you.”

The exterior door clunked and then opened with a pneumatic
hiss. A bright, natural light streamed into the cargo bay, saturating it with a
twilight glow. The dying sunshine was everyone’s first natural light in weeks. Fighting
suddenly seemed trivial compared to the natural world. All present directed
their attention to the gaping threshold, where four portly figures now stood
silhouetted.

“Someone tells me you have a Kotaran problem?” said a
booming voice, and one of the Bauxens waddled through the cargo threshold, cane
in hand, onto the
Colobus
. Evidently,
he was not worried about possible contamination, but Bauxens were never much concerned
about such things.

As the silhouette turned into a fully-developed figure, Roan
could better make out his features: a rotund body, green and scaly, with pudgy
feet that tapered off into yellow toenails. His fingers were stubby and his
arms small, growing out of his shoulderless body like limp pipes. Topping it
off was half an oval as a head—no hair on it, just a shiny pool of sweat.
The eyes were twin domes on his face, accentuating a miniscule nose and a wide
mouth. He wore but one piece of clothing, a red sash decorated with blue
dots—evidently, he was some kind of important.

“Well?” he asked, curling his voluminous lips in a smile. At
least, the Bauxen equivalent of a smile. “Am I not welcome here?”

David had worked his way down to the deck and to Roan’s side
without the human knowing.

“Prince Duvurn Dedro?” David said, in unison with Kel, both
apparently having to be sure this Bauxen was, in fact, their planetside
benefactor.

“Yes, but please call me Prince,” Duvurn said, bowing
ever-so gracefully, something picked up from years of contact with the Japanese
officials who frequently represented Earth to outsiders. What followed was an
uproarious throaty laugh, something Duvurn’s toadies quickly mimicked. The
Prince’s men seemed to be humoring his grace.

“Ah yes, Bogoy Del-hevaya Vy Selkek,” Duvurn said to David
when the laughter subsided. Or, at least, something equivalent to that
collection of syllables. He pointed his cane at David, whose head lit up yellow
and who bowed slightly in Duvurn’s direction. “I am gratified you contacted me.
Out of all the people you knew on the planet, out of all the billions…you chose
me! Thank you!”

“You are a very kind person,” David said, tipping his head.

Then Duvurn turned to Kel. “You must be Captain Streb.”
 
Instead of the usual bow, he stuck out a
fleshy hand and Kel had to step forward and stoop down to take it. She smiled
awkwardly and acknowledged that she was, in fact, Kel Streb. “Let me say that
in all my years meeting freighter captains, I have never met a female captain.
It is a most enjoyable experience. Tell me how you manage it sometime.”

“Thanks,” Kel said through gritted teeth. Roan rolled his
eyes. Kel motioned to the open door leading to the landing pad, and gestured to
the prison cell lifted high in the air. Duvurn, however, was more interested in
the curiosity that was Nick Roan.

“And who is this?” he bellowed, waddling over on his cane to
Roan. “He must be the one who discovered the information in question.”

Kel sputtered and again cringed. She was going to get
wrinkles from doing that all the time. Duvurn stood in front of Roan, expecting
some kind of remark.

“Captain Nicholas Roan,” Roan said, and he extended his
hand. Duvurn didn’t acknowledge it, but merely bowed. Roan decided to do the
same. “Your Excellency, it is an honor to be…
feted
by this hospitality.”

“Do not mention it,” Duvurn said, waving away the compliment
from the air. “I have actually heard your name before, Nicholas Roan. Is that
not the same name as the Earth saint of capitalism? Nicholas, I mean.”

“Um…close enough.”

“Close enough!”
 
Duvurn snapped his stubby head back as he laughed. “You are a funny one,
Nicholas Roan. You must forgive my lapses in knowledge about your naming
customs and such, for I only learned your language from watching all the
broadcasts emanating from your world.”