Chapter Eighteen: Blood Pact Diplomacy — Part 3

An audio alarm woke three of the women from their slumber, a gentle sounding tapping that grew louder and more annoying over the course of several minutes. Seva slept on, oblivious to the noise. Susan shut the alarm off, and accidentally kicked Grumpy off the edge of the bed while getting up. He darted headlong into a pile of discarded armor, blankets, and clothing, his eyes visible in the shadows underneath. Ignoring the lizard’s melodrama, Susan clicked on the intercom, her eyes slowly focusing on an image of Jonathan, dressed in full armor, minus the facemask. He looked terrified, rehearsed, and composed.

“We’ll be in orbit within the hour, we’ve made first contact. They seem hospitable in character, but we’re under close guard.” Jonathan said. “Not that their ships pose any real threat.

“Don’t underestimate them. What’s the planet like?” Susan wondered.

“It was probably the devil’s first hell, given up for some place more pleasant.” Jonathan’s voice was serious.

Devon expanded on the notion. “Some parts of the planet are desert, other parts are ice, and the rest is sort of soggy, slushy forest. Most the terrain is either hot and cloudless, or cold and cloudless, depending on the season. We are currently in the planet’s winter cycle, caused by an elliptical orbit, so everything is cold can cloudless, for the most part. And then there’s the fact that this is a two-planet orbital system. So we’re really orbiting a large, stable procession of binary gravitational masses.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Susan, Vertigo and Laura chatted absently, like schoolgirls on an outing, walking the short hallway to the bridge. Their eyes widened with horror as they saw Vodia and its sister planet in close detail. One was a cooling ball of nuclear flame, the other a dry and desolate globe of brown, black and white patches. Occasionally sparks of lightning would jump from planet to planet, or visa-versa, creating an awesome sight.

“So, which one was attacked again.” Vertigo asked, more or less sarcastically.

“What’s all that lightning about?” Laura wondered.

“Plasma discharge.”

“Is it a result of the nuclear attack?”

Devon explained further, sounding distracted. “It’s a natural and incredibly rare phenomena. When two planets are orbiting close enough to each other that their atmospheres come in partial contact, the resulting atmospheric, magnetic, and gravitational friction results in an accumulation of an incredible amount of energy along the area of closest proximity. I’ve studied the course they’ve plotted for us. It takes us below the surface of Surrogate Seven, directly into the energy hotspot. We’ll begin descending rapidly, so I recommend you strap in.”

Falling into stasis between the two distantly orbiting worlds, the ship dropped swiftly to the planet surface, and then leveled off and began following a preprogrammed course. Lightning shot up from the surface to embrace their ship as they approached, then died off abruptly as they passed by massive copper rods pointed a half mile into space. The ship fell through a small crater, dropping into a series of tunnels. After following a tunnel for nearly two miles, the Kindred set down in a hangar. Security guards and a sterilization team surrounded the ship. They were busy scrubbing down the exterior of the ship even as Susan tried to get a view of them through the Kindred’s exterior video cameras.

“Can you get a good view of them?” Susan said, once the water and sanitizer had stopped flowing.

Laura, squinting through some residual foam, answered first and clearest. “They are much taller than us, all of them wearing too much protective garment for me to determine any physical features. I am guessing that they are worried about contamination, given the nature of the beacon we have sitting at the edge of our home solar system.”

A click of knuckles on the airlock signaled a primitive attempt at communication. The beeper on the intercom indicated its position to the person outside. The man cautiously pushed the intercom button, and then proceeded with careful communications.

A deep voice boomed from the console. “This is the Sterilization Leader for Medical Team Alpha, requesting permission to board.”

“This is Commander MacAnderly. You may board once you’ve been stripped of all weapons.” Susan touched his mind, trying to read his thoughts. It wasn’t difficult. He seemed to be hiding something, but Susan didn’t want to prod too deeply, for fear of betraying her abilities as a telepath.

“I don’t carry weapons, ma’am, I’m a medic.” The man replied.

“Step alone into the air lock.” Susan said.

She could see him on her screen, a nervous man whose face and body were hidden within an airtight suit. With false confidence, he stepped aboard, and the door sealed behind him. Devon and Charles, who stepped to either side of him and guided him, ever so politely, to the medical station, greeted him.

“I’m Charles, Security Advisor for the People’s Democratic Republic of Antans. My companion is Devon, Head Developmental Technologist. You may examine our records and us at your convenience. Susan, Tribal Leader of our nation and Commander of this ship, will be with you shortly. Traveling as her entourage are myself, Jonathan, Vertigo, Seva, Drake and Laura.”

Susan heard his words and his thoughts, and she sent her own to Charles.

Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?

Got to have a little polish if your shoes are gonna shine. He said.

We don’t normally wear shoes. Susan reminded him sternly.

The Medic stepped into the ship’s cramped medical center, his eyes widening underneath his pressure mask. Charles and Devon, who had been clothed, stripped down to their undersuits, putting their armor aside. Susan, Drake, Laura, and Vertigo waited for him without even the body suit on. Still groggy, Seva stepped through from the bedrooms, not entirely aware that they had company at all.

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