Chapter 2
Location: Parthia, Council of Clans, Private Room
Standard Date: 03 30 632
Danny sat down in the newly installed human chair in the small room off the main council of clans meeting hall. He looked around at the Parthians. He was used to them by now. The alien race, like humans, were shaped by their biology. Parthians, like ants or bees, had breeders and non-breeders. If a non-breeder died, it was a loss to the clan, but a breeder’s death could mean the death of the clan. And it had been that way from before the alien species developed intelligence. The difference affected them on an emotional, more than an intellectual, level. They didn’t decide to put the clan first any more, or any less, than a mother decides to love her child. That didn’t make them saints. They were subject to the same sorts of unthinking prejudices that humans were. But they were people, damn it. Human or not, ugly as sin or not, they were people.
They were ugly, so ugly as to go beyond ugly to just weird. They had flat ovoid bodies, six limbs, with the set in the middle being lifting arms. The four on the corners held up an ovoid body covered in spines. They had no head, but the front of the ovoid had two eyes on flexible eyestalks that moved almost constantly, and a mouth-hand—also on a flexible stalk—which the Parthians used for eating and fine manipulation. On either side of the eyestalks were the breathing and speaking holes, almost invisible in the forest of spines.
And unless a solution was found, they were all going to die. Die down to the last tadpole in the last birthing pool . . . and maybe take the humans in the Pamplona Sector with them.
These particular Parthians were the executive cabinet of the council of clans. He was here, as was Zhecktitick, the Zheck representative to the council. It was Zhecktitick who asked Danny about the jump routes, which struck Danny as odd. It was like having your own lawyer questioning you in court, not the prosecutor. It was an example of how Parthians thought differently than humans. Among Parthians the basic assumption was that you would want to cooperate, not cover your ass.
So Danny cooperated. “No,” he answered. “I was unable to find another route into Parthian space. But if we take the ships we have here and search the outsystem, we will almost certainly find something sooner or later.”
“How long?” asked Zhecktitick.
“There’s no way of telling.” Danny looked around the room to see Parthians from the most powerful alliances in the system. “Maybe weeks, maybe years.”
“So for the foreseeable future, Canova is still the gateway.”
Danny nodded to Zhecktitick. “Ferguson can be bypassed, through a fairly long normal space flight, and the other route out of Canova offers other options. But as long as Canova is sitting there blocking the route, the Jackson Cordoba Trading Company still has control of Parthia’s access to the rest of space.
“And it’s worse than that. If you don’t take and hold Canova, the Jackson-Cordobas—or the Cordoba Combine itself—will come in here and kill you all.”
The eyestalks in the room wobbled in total incomprehension. Danny might as well have been saying that the sun was going to spit out candy canes dipped in chocolate icing.
Location: Pandora and Net
Standard Date: 03 30 632
While Danny was speaking to the council, Goldfax used its interface to link with the Pandora and have her call a friend in its former clan, the Kiig, on Gkok Station. “Kiigsik, I see you managed to avoid the guk fields after all.”
Kiigsik, the neuter male hydraulics specialist with a poorly controlled right eyestalk and a wicked sense of humor, hissed at Goldfax over the comm. “For a while it looked like I might not, but the ores from your clan’s asteroid saved the day. We’ve been making—” It paused. “—well, I shouldn’t say what we’ve been making, but you probably have some on your ship by now.” What he was talking about were the new shield missile bodies. The shield missiles, invented by the Pandora’s crew, used a superconducting filament to generate a magnetic field similar to the magnetic wings of a jump ship. They were brand new and the secret weapon of the Parthians and their allies. There was a short pause, as though Kiigsik was trying to decide how rude it could be.
Goldfax guessed what it wanted to ask and because it was proud of the abilities that its interface added, it said, “Yes, I have the interface.” Interfaces weren’t new to humans. Humans had been using them for centuries to allow more effective control of robotic devices. But they were new to Parthians. “I can slip into the operating system of Pandora’s shuttle and become almost one with the ship. It’s like nothing you have ever experienced.”
From the way Kiigsik’s mouth-hand moved, it wasn’t buying, “I don’t know. I’m not sure I would want a machine controlling my eyestalks.” It lifted its eyestalks with its left held straight and its right wobbling about lazily. “My right might not work quite right, but it’s mine.”
“Well, maybe you’re right,” Goldfax played along. “After all, I’m not sure your nervous system should be trusted with a wing controller. Who knows where the wing might go.” Wing controllers controlled the position and movement of the hundred kilometer, and sometimes longer, magnitogravational wings that propelled deep space ships and allowed them to jump.
Kiigsik’s mouth-hand made a rude gesture, and Goldfax laughed.
For the next hour or so they exchanged gossip and Goldfax tried to explain the unexplainable. It was like trying to explain pathing to a human. But at the very least, it left Kiigsik with something to think about.
The idea of teamwork was integral to the Parthian character and the interfaces allowed teamwork with a level of intimacy that was previously unattainable, yet they were profoundly uncomfortable with the notion of devices implanted into their brains.
It quickly became clear that enough Parthians liked the idea that if it was an individual choice, Doctor Schmitz would be able to spend the rest of his life installing them in willing patients.
But Parthians weren’t humans. Decisions like that were always subject to the combined will of the clan. So far, most of the clans were still trying to make up their minds.
It was in the midst of all this that Warchief’s captain, Janis Tecumseh, got offered a fee for agreeing to appear on a major news commentator’s blog.
Location: Parthian Outsystem
Standard Date: 04 01 632
Captain Andri Jackson slipped on the captain’s cap with its leads and sank into the shipnet. She let the data flow into her mind and felt the Fortune Find shift its fields and slip from one point of space to another, three light weeks closer to Parthia.
Her ship wasn’t a scout ship. She and her ship were the victims of the Canova government’s need for a scouting foray into Parthia. It wasn’t as though the Canova government had its own ships. They insisted on seizing the Fortune Find, and went to the extremity of putting a member of the System Defense Force aboard her.
Andri looked over at the officious little snot. “Well, you happy with what you’re seeing there, Skippy?”
“Not particularly, Captain, but at least we know,” Lieutenant Commander Keeghan Espinosa said. “What are you getting from insystem?”
Andri looked to her comm tech. “What do you have, Steve?”
“It’s early to tell yet, Skipper, but I don’t think they are all that fond of Canova or the Jackson-Cordobas.” The uncertainty wasn’t because of the time delay for the signals from insystem to reach them. It was because of the mass of data that Steve was having to sort through. The signals from insystem weren’t, for the most part, encrypted. The problem was just sorting through hundreds of news shows and general commentaries.
The bridge crew continued to listen as the Fortune Find drifted away from the jump under minimal power. It took several hours to make the loop and get headed back toward the jump. During that time they were spotted, but there were no ships in position to do anything about it.
They did see Janis Tecumseh’s interview, which was enough to make Espinosa go a little pale. But it was clear that the Parthians had not yet decided what to do.
Location: Parthia, Kiik Clan Council Room
Standard Date: 04 01 632
“What?” Kiiksook bleated. “You can’t seriously be considering this.” The room was comfortably lit, with translucent cloths diffusing the electric lights and filling the space with multi-colored light. There was a slight breeze from the fans, just enough to accent the Parthian pathing sense.
The this Kiiksook was bleating about was the proposal to sell two of their breeders to the Starchild clan, relayed to them by Kiiggaak of the Kiig clan. It wasn’t the notion of selling two of their breeders that upset Kiiksook. Both biology and culture said that was perfectly fine. It was the notion of selling those two breeders to a human clan. It was rather like a paterfamilias arranging a good match for his daughter, then finding that the prospective groom was a cannibal. And even at that, Kiiksook’s concern wasn’t mostly about the two breeders, but that the sale would connect the Kiik clan to the human clan. That clan members, even breeders, would be sacrificed for the good of the clan was expected.
“Yes, I can. And so should the whole council,” said Kiikesk, her eyestalks counter-rotating to take in the whole space and the council sitting comfortably on their nests.
“Why?”
“Because if we don’t take a hand, we will be ruled by the humans. If we do, Kiik clan will be a parent to one of the primary clans on Canova 2.”
“There are no—” Kiiksook stopped and stared in shock at the senior clan mother of the Kiik. She was still a breeder, though by now she was unlikely to bear any more young. She was over eighty Parthian years old. Older than most female breeders ever got. And she had studied Parthian history since before her first breeding. “You really think so?” Now it was Kiiksook’s turn to scan the chamber but it was looking for the council’s reaction as Kiikesk explained her position.
“The stations were supposed to provide more space. Room for more breeders and for tadpole ponds. And they would have, if the humans hadn’t shown up. Moreover, Canova 2 is a whole world. It’s a small world, and mostly covered in oceans, but still has more room than a hundred stations. More than a thousand, or ten thousand.” Parthia had been overcrowded for centuries before they encountered the humans with their jump-capable ships, and still was.
Again her eyestalks circled the room. “If Parthia is to control its own destiny, it must own Canova.”
The reason for that last statement was that the only known jump route out of Parthian space was through the Canova System. The Jackson-Cordoba Trading Company had, until recently, successfully isolated Parthia from the wider universe, primarily by its control of the Canova System.
“Then wouldn’t the Gold Clan be—”
“No.” Her mouth-hand twisted in emphasis. “First, because the Gold Clan isn’t offering to buy breeders. And second, because I think it will actually work better if we are allied with the child clan rather than the parent clan. It will make us the co-parent with the Gold Clan and produce a more stable alliance. Also, there is the matter of money. The adoption fee that the Star Clan is offering is twice what the next best offer is.”
Kiiksook again scanned the council, catching subtle shifts in eyestalks and mouth-hands that indicated at least grudging assent. “You’re probably right, Eldest Mother. You usually are.” It spread its mid-arms as though dropping the matter at her feet. “But you get to tell the breeders that they are joining the Starchild clan, not one of the old established Parthian clans.”
✽✽✽
Kiikeska looked at her grandmother, the senior breeder of her clan, and wasn’t at all sure how she was supposed to feel. Nor was she sure what she was feeling. She was young. She just finished her first breeding cycle two years ago, and her male was a trade from the Siij Clan who she’d known all her life. It was a comfortable relationship, and she was glad that it would be maintained.
On the other hand . . . the humans? They used machines inserted in their brains! And the things she’d heard about their breeding practices!
Oh, what should she do?
Well, no. That wasn’t really a question at all.
She didn’t have any choice.
The clan council decided and it was settled. All she could do was make the best of it. She twisted one eyestalk to look at Kiiksiijkegk. He was looking at Grandmother Kiikesk with curiosity more than anything else.
Maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad. They wouldn’t be the senior breeders. Jenny Starchild would be the primary, but they would be the senior Parthian breeders of the new clan. “How will this work, Grandmother?” she asked. “We will be the senior Parthian breeders, but not the senior breeders of the clan.”
“To a great extent, that will depend on you,” Grandmother said. “New clans always have new customs. And even here, we breeders have more status than real power. It will be the council that decides. But I expect you will be on the council.”
“Could we make that part of the agreement?” Kiiksiijkegk asked.
“We can ask, but with what they are paying I doubt the clan council would refuse the deal even if the Star Clan were to put you to work in the guk fields.” Then she laughed at their stiffened eyestalks. “Don’t worry. I doubt they are buying you for that. Besides, the Star Clan has no guk fields.”
“They have no pond either!” Kiikeska complained.
“I understand they are planning on buying some.” The old female breeder’s eyestalks took them both in. “I will arrange a comm call so that you can discuss arrangements with your new clan.”
✽✽✽
Jenny was shocked at how quickly the Kiik decided, and at least a bit surprised that the decision went her way.
But if Jenny was surprised, the Parthian bug on the street was in shock. The council of clans voted three days later, and the Star Clan became a recognized clan of Parthia.
✽✽✽
Jenny looked at the bridge screen. It showed Kiikeska and Kiiksiijkegk, the young breeder pair. She could tell they were nervous by the way their eyestalks bounced about. “For right now, you will only visit the Arachne. You’ll be staying on Parthia until we settle things in Canova,” she explained to the nervous young Parthians. “But I am going to make it my business to make sure you have large, comfortable breeding ponds. Meanwhile, tell me about yourselves.”
The three teenagers, for that is what they were, chatted about politics and romance, Parthian and human versions of each. They talked about plans, hopes, and dreams, and what it would take to make a clan a family. The Parthians didn’t want to have machines in their brains, not yet, and Jenny didn’t push the matter. She figured they would get used to the idea better if she didn’t push too hard. At least, she herself did better if people let her get used to new ideas.