Conflict In The Darkness

By Robert Holt

When the Earth Space Force consular ship, the Lady Denari. is attacked on Earth, Laurie Denari still does not comprehend the scope of the fear and resistance many of Earth’s peoples feel about the very existence of such a fleet, or its alien commander. She must learn to deal with those who oppose it, those who wish to destroy it, and those who would steal its advanced technologies to use against their neighboring nations, or perhaps to conquer the world.
At the same time, Laurie must deal with personal issues between herself and her human lover, Vice Fleet Commander Doctor Kenneth Harris, with fleet policy changes, with spies, saboteurs, assassins, and the enemy Krev forward observers; and she must also handle the arrival of a multi-species alien fleet, determine whether they are friend or foe, and deal with the actions of its various factions.
Will the ESF locate and capture the Krev forward observers already hiding on Earth?
Will the on-coming fleet attempt to conquer Earth, or bargain peacefully for lands to colonize?
Will Laurie discover a supra-national organization bent on world domination?
And can Laurie deal with all the dangers coming her way, or will she lose herself under the pressure?

This is the second book in the series! If you haven't read "A Plea In The Darkness", yet, buy your copy now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Holt
• Release date: Jan 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370109975

Robert Holt

Robert Holt is a retired field biologist, having performed biodiversity surveys, and a former science teacher, having taught earth science, biology, chemistry, and physics at the secondary level. Beyond writing science curriculum and providing technical editing for science text books, he is currently working on two more anthologies of speculative fiction, and another novel. Robert’s hobbies include nature photography and collecting fossils, rocks and minerals. Although he and his wife presently reside in the State of Washington, his mind is often somewhere out in space...well, after all, his father was from Alpha Centauri... But that’s another story...

Book preview

Conflict In The Darkness

Robert Philip Holt

Second book in the series:

A Plea In The Darkness

Conflict In The Darkness

Copyright February 2017 by Robert Philip Holt

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Thank you for your support.

This book is a work of fiction, and therefore: any resemblance to persons, living, dead, undead, or in transition, or events, places or locales, brands, and/or other media is purely coincidental. The characters and events described herein are primarily products of the author’s warped imagination and are used fictitiously. However, the author has made occasional reference to actual events or locations; and such references are merely used to provide an historical setting for this fictional story. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products or corporations referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners (although I would not have mentioned them if I did not hold them in such high regard). So, there!

ISBN-13: 9781370109975

Contents

Chapter 1 A waste of life

Chapter 2 A tempest in a teapot

Chapter 3 Disaster in space

Chapter 4 Not of this world

Chapter 5 Incident in New York

Chapter 6 Warning Signs

Chapter 7 HAL? Open the pod bay door, HAL.

Chapter 8 Is it paranoia if they really are out to get you?

Chapter 9 Dementation? Is that even a real word?

Chapter 10 NNNAAAAAAARRRRRRRRFFFFFF!

Chapter 11 Battle Stations! This is not a drill!

Chapter 12 Commander, the Strun are spies!

Chapter 13 To be the stealthy predator...

Chapter 14 We have actionable intelligence

Chapter 15 Beware Murphy’s Laws

Chapter 16 The heat of battle

Chapter 17 Exactly how did that happen?

Chapter 18 Earth is a very dangerous place

Chapter 19 Permission to continue breathing

Chapter 20 To walk beneath an open sky

Chapter 21 We’re not Romulans

Chapter 22 It doesn’t feel right

Chapter 23 Then I can’t bring her back!

About the Author

Chapter 1 A waste of life...

Earth Space Force Consular Parking Lot,

Annapolis, Maryland

Three missiles exploded in rapid succession against the shields of the Lady Denari, the ESF Consular Office, sitting on its landing skids in the ESF parking lot. The ship took no damage, but automatically fired back, destroying the attackers’ two black SUVs, killing all inside them, except for one gunner standing beside an engine compartment, who was blown clear. The Lady immediately beamed a human-form security android over to the wreckage to investigate the scene. She waited to inform Fleet Commander Laurie Denari of the incident, until the android reported back.

Lieutenant Leitz first materialized beside the man thrown seven meters from the trucks. The man’s right hand still gripped the rocket-launcher he had used in the attack. He was Caucasian, shaved head, wore camouflage fatigues, and was still breathing, though a stump was bleeding where his lower right leg was missing just below the knee. His eyes were closed, and he appeared unconscious. She drew her weapon and using low power, cauterized the leg wound to stop blood loss; then did a quick examination and reported radio-telepathically, *This man is seriously injured, but still alive. Transmit him to Luna Base Hospital. The Fleet Commander may wish to interrogate him.* As she walked toward the still-burning SUVs, the insurgent’s body was enveloped in a sparkling electric-blue transport field, which then disappeared, leaving a patch of blood-soaked grass where his body had lain.

Traffic slowed down as rubbernecking drivers scanned the scene, some snapping images with cell-phone cameras.

There were several explosions in both SUVs, as more munitions went off. The android lieutenant’s body shielding flicked on, in case any shrapnel came her way, and the Lady Denari extended shields around the area to protect passersby, but all of the blasts were confined to the rear interior of the trucks. The front of each truck had been partially vaporized by the plasma beams, and there were burning corpses sitting in their seats. Only the drivers’ bodies wore seat belts. Leitz walked around the trucks, her mechanical mind recording every detail. Two other cooked bodies lay outside the trucks on the passenger sides, also holding rocket launchers. Leitz searched as best she could for identification on the bodies, and inside the vehicles, once the ordnance stopped exploding. She found none. Of course they could trace the license plates. The VIN numbers had been vaporized. Perhaps the doctors would find something on the injured captive.

A news van pulled off the road and came toward her. Lieutenant Leitz reported, *The news media is arriving to cover the incident. I’ll stay here to field questions. Send a clean-up crew. I just wish this were entirely unnecessary. Oh, I hear sirens approaching, too.*

* * *

Interview Room 2a, ESF Luna Base

Second Lieutenant Harminder Singh, recent graduate of the U.S. Air Force Academy materialized inside a small interview room in front of the famous Commander Kenneth Harris, Vice Fleet Commander, Director of Personnel and Medical Services of the Earth Space Force, Comet Flight Instructor, and personal physician to the Fleet Commander. Lt. Singh’s excitement was palpable, for the picture window in this room looked out over the lunar surface, where he could see a team of space-suited figures working on constructing another extension to Luna Base.

Good morning, Sir, said Singh, coming to attention and saluting. I’m sorry, Sir, but I don’t know whether to salute or not. I am unfamiliar with the protocols of this Service.

Good morning, Lieutenant Singh. As in the Air Force, we don’t require a salute indoors, either. The Fleet Commander will be here in a few minutes, and we’ll begin the interview then. While you wait, you may either take a seat or look out the window if you wish.

Singh moved to the window, fascinated by the view. He had never expected to be here. All he had wanted to do was to be an Air Force fighter pilot, to defend his new country. He had never thought he’d be called upon to defend the planet as a whole. However, he was confident that his written and oral test scores had been very high, and that his flight instructors had been impressed. His classmates had recommended him for squadron leader, and he had performed that task exceptionally well.

What Singh didn’t know, was that a week prior to this interview, an ESF agent had placed mind probe nano-bots on his pillow case. During the week a fleet computer had monitored his thoughts and dreams, before approving him for transport. The space force had only recently begun secretly probing its applicants and intended recruits. This was deemed necessary only after eleven recent recruits were found to be foreign agents from several countries, trying to steal plans and materials for constructing ships and weapons, while twenty-seven other agents had been caught actively attempting to sabotage comet construction. Hence, the covert probing of all candidates, prior to even permitting them on base. The fact that he was here, now, indicated that Singh was not considered a security threat—at this time.

Two hours ago, the Commandant of the Academy had called Harminder into his office, and told him he was being recommended for Space Force, and asked him if he had any objections. When he didn’t, he was told to stand by for an interview, and to wait in his room. An hour later, a Space Force officer beamed into his room and told him to stand by for transport in fifteen minutes. Now he was on the Moon.

Gazing out at the stark black and white of the lunar landscape, his mind drifted to the articles he had read and the televised reports about the battle-damaged alien fighter craft, Comet, that had drifted through space for two-hundred-thousand years, its injured pilot, the nineteen year old Denari girl held in electronic storage for all that time, finally crash landing on Earth in the State of Washington. The man at the desk behind him, an Air Force medical doctor at that time, had healed her wounds, bringing her back to life, and giving her a human name, Laurie.

Outside the thick glass were space-suited men and androids working on constructing another section of the moon base, their odd, bouncing gait matching that of the first US astronauts on the moon, back in 1969, and continuing a few years into the 1970’s. But in the 70’s manned exploration of the moon stopped, for it was too expensive, too difficult, and extremely hazardous using the limited technology of the time. And the space program had too many political enemies, especially after the losses of the Challenger and the Columbia and their crews. Though unmanned space probes were sporadically sent off into the darkness, only the Russians continued launching humans into space, and only as far as the orbiting space stations. And that was as far as people could get…until Laurie arrived.

Harminder understood that here, inside the base, the new super-heavy element, Tedium, introduced by the alien, provided the gravity flooring that permitted a normal walking gait in an artificial Earth-normal gravity. Tedium had many other uses, especially in making the catalyst rods for the fusion reactors that drove all the new space ships. The old chemical rockets were no longer necessary for sending men into space. A fusion powered ship could leave the ground and be in orbit in seconds.

Realizing she could never return to Denareb, to her homeworld and time, Laurie chose to help her new world, to protect Earth from the rapacious, lizard-like Krev, should the Krev fleet ever reach this world. The United States government formally recognized Laurie as the ambassador of the Denareban Conformity, giving her the authority to construct and train a space fleet as she saw fit, in return for the designs and the technology to create it. And over the past few years under Laurie’s guidance, a fleet of intelligent comets and carrier ships had been built, men and women had been trained, and the joint international Earth Space Force had come to fruition.

The ESF was still fairly small, with only two fully functioning carriers, and about three hundred fighter craft, but the third carrier was nearly finished, and the fleet was still actively recruiting officers and enlisted personnel in all the required positions. And Harminder remained in utter awe of all that the little alien woman had accomplished in so short a time. When he heard the door slide open he turned so quickly, he almost lost his balance.

Lieutenant Singh, please have a seat...and relax, said the Fleet Commander, staring up at him. At that angle, the way the light caught her eyes, her pupils glowed red, within her reflective yellow irises. It sent a shiver down his back. She was short, only four feet tall, with blue, scaly skin, and feathers with an iridescent pattern growing from her scalp. He knew from reading up on her species that the way her lips puckered was the Denareban equivalent of a smile.

He smiled back and took the indicated seat at the table, saying, Good morning, Fleet Commander. I am pleased to meet you. He almost said he had never met an alien before, but that would have been silly, because there were no other extra-terrestrials on Earth, except, of course, for the two enemy Krev lizards and their young...and no one yet knew where they were hiding. That caused his mind to wander, once again, wondering whether the Krev fleet might be approaching…but the blue girl brought it back into focus with her first question.

Your Air Force records are excellent, so we were wondering why you didn’t apply to Space Force immediately after graduation?

It was something I had not considered, Sir. After emigrating from India, I wanted to become a US citizen, and I wanted to prove I would defend my new country. It was a plus that serving in the military was a fast track to citizenship. The Air Force was my first choice, because I already knew how to fly single and twin engine planes. My father was a crop duster and taught me to fly. He wanted me to stay in India and take over the family business, but I couldn’t stay.

Why not? Commander Harris asked.

When I was young, we visited my uncle in California. I was so amazed at the apparent affluence all over America, when compared to my native land. India is so poor. My parents argued for me to stay...but I could not. I wanted a better life for myself, and my future family. I was certain I could find a wife here...I mean in California, once I completed my service.

I see. Had you another career in mind?

I have a mechanical engineering degree from the University of New Delhi, and I know flying. I thought I could teach flying, while working toward an advanced degree in aerospace engineering. Then perhaps I could find a job with one of the aircraft manufacturers.

Would you consider an engineering position with a spacecraft manufacturer... specifically within Space Force, after serving as a comet pilot for a period of time?

Could I?

Laurie thought she detected the lieutenant’s eyes glowing. Just then, her thoughts were interrupted radio-telepathically by Comet I, the base’s main AI computer relaying a report from Earth, and she looked away. That artificially intelligent system had been the mind of her ship when she crash-landed on Earth. Too damaged to ever fly again, the computer had constructed a new ship for her, Comet II, and replicated its personality into that ship’s system. The first AI ran the Luna Base systems, while the new one acted as her ship. At times it confused others as to which one was speaking at the moment, and only Laurie and Dr. Harris could tell them apart.

**Laurie, the Lady Denari has been attacked. The ship is fine; she destroyed the attack force, though one of the insurgents was not killed. He was injured and was transported to LBH. Lieutenant Leitz thought you might want to interrogate him after surgery.**

Thank you, Comet. Inform the hospital staff I will question him after recovery. Standard Intel Procedures, Nanite injection authorized. Inform security, record the details of the insurgent activity and then clean up the mess.

Refusing to let her anger show or interfere with this important interview, Laurie turned back to the candidate, ignoring the awkward pause in conversation, which had lasted a mere three seconds. The short answer is yes. Of course, there are many things to consider, such as...

* * *

Amazon Rain Forest, Brazil, South America

Its black-striped brown fur soaking wet, a twelve foot long, six-legged lizard-like form crawled up the bank from a swiftly flowing stream, and deposited the carcass of a capybara at the edge of the forest. Raising its fore-body from the ground, steadying itself on its four hind legs, it stood up and glanced around for the jaguar that had been stalking it. Tark, it said into the communicator strapped to its wrist, Don’t see that cat-thing was following me. Think I scared it off. Anyway, have dinner for young ones. Be back soon. Narf waited for an answer. When none came, he became more alert, looking around and sniffing the air for danger...for humans.

Tark? he said, as softly as he could, hoping his deep gravely voice wouldn’t carry too far beyond her communicator. He waited several minutes, before gathering his hunting tools and hefting the carcass, getting ready to run.

Finally, he heard her voice, barely a whisper. Narf, had to hide from hunting party of humans. Come quickly!

The huge alien took off, running down the trail toward the cavern where his family was hidden. Soon, he smelled the humans, and came to a halt, ducking into the underbrush, hiding everything but his blaster. Narf crouched as low to the ground as he could. The hunting party passed within twenty yards of the giant lizard-analog, and didn’t see him. He waited until they were far enough away, picked up his pack and the dead beast, and continued on, as quietly as he could.

As he passed through the thin veneer of the cloaking field stretched between their two fighter craft, he felt a tingling sensation, but the security systems recognized him and let him pass into their makeshift camp.

"Numa, said Narf to his ship’s computer, how close hunters get?"

Within five mog. Too close. Need to find more remote campsite, with cavern.

Too many humans nearby, Narf, said Tark, coming up to nuzzle her mate. Their younglings followed her and surrounded their parents.

While Narf drew his blaster, adjusting it to a narrow, low power beam and split the capybara carcass into thirteen thick, partly cooked slices for their brood, he said, Or we could eat them, thin out the human population in this area.

Tark looked sharply at him. You not eaten any humans, have you?

Not yet, but they look and smell tempting. Narf handed Tark one of the last two thicker slices, and began to nibble on the last one, himself, while watching his children feed.

The eleven young Krev were now four feet in length, and gaining weight. None of them were speaking yet, neither English nor Krev, but they were listening attentively, following instructions (most of the time), and learning to differentiate between the two languages. They would soon be old enough to learn to hunt for themselves, and by that time, their parents needed to be certain their children could speak. Of course, none of the Krev could yet understand the various languages of the South American Native Indian tribes in this region, but if whatever their offspring spoke could be recognized as a language, perhaps the natives could be coerced not to kill them.

One thing Narf was certain about was that the local humans would be hostile to a group of lizard-like beings who spoke English, especially beings who carried advanced weapons. And unlike the capybara, adult Krev made positively huge, easy targets for blow-gun darts. He was also fairly certain that anyone who discovered them would quickly tell others, spreading the news of the Krevs’ presence and location...and he couldn’t have that. He would have to kill anyone who knew about them, to keep them from notifying the local or international authorities. Narf knew he might need to eliminate an entire village to keep them silent...and he didn’t want to have to do that. Eat one or two for dinner, sure, not a problem. Kill and eat an entire village overnight? No. That would be impossible, as well as being certain to make news, to bring the media, and the military, when half-eaten bodies were discovered.

What to do, what to do, he thought. Find a better campsite.

Tark?

Yes?

"After them eat, pack up. Need find better camping spot. Numa, use satellite network, get maps and images of territory."

* * *

Command Deck of the Battleship Savage

Hyperspace, 9.89 Light Years From Sol

Nine huge black war ships continued on course for what they designated as the Ortuga Star System, based on a ninety-thousand year old stellar survey, and a brief radio signal intercepted in deep space.

Commander?

First Executive?

"The Venom has dropped out of hyperspace for repairs. They did not specify the kind of damage."

Comm, Did you get an estimate of how long they would be out of warp?

No sir. I am trying...

Try to find out, but we are probably out of communications range already. That brings our battle strength down to eight battleships and one destroyer. Notify the High Commander when he awakens.

Yes Sir.

What about the radio signals we’re crossing through?

Our velocity makes it difficult to differentiate signals or collect a single clear data set, but we have some data with contiguous patterns. The language processors are working on it, but without common referents, it could take a long time to translate anything. Comm officer, let us hear some of the signals you are receiving.

Yes Sir.

The radio hissed, ...SSSssss...agua...sssSSsss...eitberg, zolst farlirn ale tseyner akhuts eynem, un der zol dir vey ton!...sSSssSSss...Hokey Smoke, Bullwinkle!...sssSSSSss...trree hourrs Pottsylvanian commerrcials...ssssSSsssss... ♫ Itchy Grimy Greasy ♪Scalp...Get Gunk!... sssSSsss...until next week, Na-nu Na-nu...sssSSSSss…

Were the linguistic computers able to sort anything intelligible out of that?

No, Sir.

Well, keep trying.

* * *

Conference Auditorium 2, Luna Base

Yes, Commanders, said Colonel Quoni, a blue Denariform android, the Luna Base Training Officer. "The latest recruits from Germany and Hungary are coming along well. Flight training is on schedule, and small arms and comet maintenance training are coming up in two weeks for groups eleven and thirteen. One squadron of five, Scorpion Squadron is ready for assignment to the Marduk."

Excellent, said Dr. Harris. In three days, the registrar will be assigning recruits Singh, O’Seanessy, Murdock, Farmer, and LaBelle to their initial training at Groom Lake, where they’ll be vetted by security for two weeks, while learning the basics of ESF organization and protocols. Then they go to the Seaman Wash facility for two months on the Comet production line, while taking initial space-flight physics class work. And from there, they’ll come up to Luna Base for the majority of their training. I know this is a different track schedule from what we’ve been doing, but these people are engineers, and we need them to become more familiar with our manufacturing techniques and materials before putting them into full pilot training. Because of their background, the way they think, they’ll have more confidence in the comet’s flight characteristics if we let them peek under the hood, first. He turned to Laurie, who took the cue.

Colonel McCann, the ongoing Krev search patrols?

The woman looked abashed, and said, Commander, it has been five weeks since we have detected any signals or vibrations on any frequency that might have been from a drek, or its cloaking or shielding fields. They have either moved somewhere else on-planet we haven’t thought to patrol, or over time they have improved their equipment to such a degree that they are now completely undetectable. Sir, two squadrons may not be enough for the job. Could you give me two more?

All other squadrons are assigned to the carriers, for the time being, Colonel, said Laurie. Has anyone come up with an alternative search pattern, or any new detection methods? Has anyone considered that they might have moved off-planet?

The two engineers at the conference table looked at each other and shrugged. Quoni, their strategist said, I’m sorry, Commander. There are no suggestions for new detection protocols or equipment; and where else in the star system could they possibly go? There are no other planets, moons or asteroids with a thick enough oxygen atmosphere, or life. I suppose they could have put themselves into storage and left the system, altogether, but would they take that kind of chance with their offspring?

Well their children are no longer infants, said Laurie, "so they could withstand the storage process, but would the dreks have sufficient storage for that many Krev, and still be capable of re-materializing them as individuals after a long journey? Comet?"

The AI responded through a wall speaker, Storage capacity, yes; journey to whatever destination, unknown, depending on energy reserves.

"Thank you, Comet. So, Colonel McCann, at the moment I can’t spare any other squadrons. Should we discover more evidence of drek movement on planet, or hear any evidence of human/Krev contact, I’ll deploy more squadrons to Earth. Moving on, the next order of business is the Martian Terraforming Project. Colonel Taggert?"

An officer in the audience stood up, glanced at her notes, and began speaking, Aye, Sir. The rocks we have been diverting from the Asteroid Belt to make them easier to mine on the ground, and to warm the atmosphere, have been causing some rather strong Mars-quakes on impact. It’s been suggested that we break them up first, to distribute the mass more evenly across the planet. Drilling on the Core Thermal Restart Project is proceeding well enough, but it will still take a very long time to reheat the core to regenerate a planetary magnetic field once we reach it. In the meantime, the magnetic fields we’re generating over the habs do help, somewhat against solar radiation. Now, by skipping the icebergs diverted from the Kuiper Belt off the atmosphere, they tend to melt almost completely before they impact, and fall as rain. So, we’re lucky in that respect. Mars’ atmosphere is beginning to thicken, noticeably; we’re seeing somewhat lower wind speeds in some areas of the lowlands, and some times we get localized pressure readings as high as eighty millibars. Taggert paused for a sip of water, then continued.

There are three plants processing local materials to begin construction of the main domes, as well as four large-scale temporary greenhouses to grow food crops, using the water available on planet. There is one large-scale lichen seeding...well, spore-spreading actually project currently operating in the Vallis Marinaris. They intend to do the polar regions, next, then try the highlands. If the lichens take hold, and the ground begins to hold more liquid water, the intent is to try mosses next. But that is probably at least ten, maybe twenty years off.

And our temporary base construction on the planet? Laurie asked.

"Coming along more slowly than expected, Sir. The Mars-quakes from the asteroid impacts have made the substrate unstable. There are cracks in the concrete test slabs. The engineers are being cautious. One has even suggested that we hold off dome construction until we stop bombarding Mars with rocks, and just continue using our prefab modules. Their argument is that while the shields protect the construction sites from rocks falling from above, they do nothing to protect from temblors. The ground is fairly mobile when struck.

There is a suggestion that strategic injections of large quantities of the element tedium (168Td⁴¹⁶) beneath the regolith, the loose surface rock and soil, would help stabilize the Martian surface. It need only be done in regions where the surface is composed of very loose material.

Oy, thought Laurie, another ‘important’ use for tedium. Will we ever be able to make it in quantities large enough to satisfy our needs? Fine, she said aloud. We’ll see what we can do about ramping up production or exploring the asteroids for it.

Next...

Before she could say anything about the next topic, a hand went up, and Laurie recognized Anita Robinson. She pointed to the woman and said, Yes, Star Commander?

"Sir, we have been hearing that the Lady Denari was attacked this morning, but we have not heard any of the specifics."

"It is true that our diplomatic ship was attacked at 0600 local D.C. time. The insurgents launched three rockets, but they were ineffective against our shields. The Lady fired back, killing all but one of the men. The insurgent has undergone surgical repair, and is still in a coma as of this time. When he is conscious, he will be questioned. Laurie paused and glanced at her agenda. Star Commander Morgan, how are your Commander and Sub-Commander progressing?"

Commander Grimes is coming along quite well. Kitty, er, Sub-Commander Loftus is...well...um...

Well?

Overly enthused, I think, might be a good description. She’s boisterous, something of a...

A cheerleader, perhaps? the doctor suggested.

Yes, that’s a better description. Morgan frowned. She knows everyone’s names, and she tends to give too much praise, too many pats on the back. It makes some of the crew uncomfortable. I’ve spoken with her about it, but I believe it may be necessary talk her down, to dampen her spirits a little.

Dr. Harris looked concerned. I’ve seen this type of behavior in young officers before. She is probably trying to compensate for some feeling of inadequacy, or to overcome some deep-seated fear. Have her beam over and report to me in the morning, but don’t tell her what it’s about. I’ll make an assessment and determine whether she needs psychological counseling.

Aye, Sir.

"Star Commander Robinson, your Commander and Subcommander?

"Commander Goldschmidt is exceptional in all areas. Subcommander Cutler is progressing very well. She understands people and her grasp of tactics, well, she’s a world-class chess master, and that ability carries over. As to the details of the ship, she’s coming along at a reasonable pace. How is Commander Kensington coming on overseeing the construction of the Pele?"

Very well, indeed. I think he’ll be ready to command that ship by the time she’s ready to leave Space Dock. Laurie looked around the lecture hall. Are there any more questions, or any new business?

When will she be ready, Fleet Commander?

Robinson appeared at ease asking the question, but Laurie detected a hint of a strain in her voice. She made a mental note of it, and planned to speak to Anita directly, later. "The Pele is officially on track for launch in five months. Are there any other questions?"

* * *

Fleet Commander’s Quarters, Luna Base

As usual at the end of a day, the fleet commander and her physician sat at dinner, going over the day’s events, a Caesar salad with extra anchovies for the doctor, a salad of spruce needles, pine nuts, maiden-hair fern, reindeer moss, liverworts, and chicken chunks for the blue alien woman.

Why the long face, Ken? Laurie asked before taking a bite of the salad.

I’m not happy with this whole situation. The captive is in a coma, and may not survive; the other attackers are dead; we have no way to determine who they were or why they attacked us; and ESF is being castigated in the media for killing the insurgents instead of capturing and interrogating them.

Because her mouth was full, she switched to radio-telepathy, I understand you injected surgical nanites to detect and repair his injuries. Just give the surgical unit time to work. Once he’s repaired and awake, we can inject mind probes and interrogate him. We’ll get the answers we need. And then Lieutenant Leitz can inform the FBI, and they can take care of the problem from there.

The doctor put down his fork, looked into her reflective golden eyes and said, You’re being very casual about all this, Laurie. Don’t you care that seven people were killed in retaliation for this attack?

She looked down at her bowl and took another bite. They were enemy combatants. I told the United Nations more than a year ago what would happen if an ESF ship was attacked.

I know that, but the media is presenting us as the bad guys in this situation.

The insurgents attacked us with rockets. We’re the victims, here. We were just defending ourselves.

Laurie, the ship was empty. There was no live crew. Lady Denari returned fire automatically without direct orders to do so. And there was no way those primitive rockets could have damaged her.

Wrong, I gave all ships orders to take immediate defensive action when fired upon, anywhere on or near Earth.

Ken pushed away from the table and stood up, turning away from her. He didn’t like arguing with his lover about anything, much less the killing of people, even if they could be considered enemy combatants. Hands on his hips he turned to face her and said, Suppose you modify those orders to take insurgents as prisoners, instead of killing them immediately. Then we could interrogate them and find out who they are, or whom they’re working for. You could have the ships destroy their weapons, or better yet, hold the weapons, too, as evidence.

I’ll consider it. Laurie looked up at Ken, a little confused by his reactions, and a little frustrated that his emotions weren’t in perfect harmony with hers. But aren’t you concerned that someone sent them to attack us? If the shields had been down for a maintenance cycle, the ship would have taken damage, if not been totally destroyed.

If that ship had needed maintenance, it would have been up here, in a maintenance bay, not down on Earth. And yes, I’m concerned that someone is so afraid of ESF that they’re ready and willing to attack us. But part of the purpose of having a ship stationed down there is to determine just that. It’s a threat detector, a filter, to make sure no one gets through to harm our live personnel.

It’s a diplomatic embassy, an open door through which other nations can send emissaries or potential candidates, or...

Yes, it’s that, too, but an embassy that decides who is an enemy and shoots them on sight?

It’s not that simple, Ken. You’re really uptight about this. What’s this really about? What’s really bothering you?

Laurie, you’re a warrior. To you, this action makes practical sense. I’m a doctor. Killing people, any people, is abhorrent to me. Life is precious; not something to waste needlessly. You’ve been inside my mind. You know this.

Laurie again switched to telepathy. And the Krev, Ken?

Ken thought about the tiny Krev child they’d rescued last year, and how she’d grown and progressed, and said, Krev are people, too.

Laurie went quiet, thinking about Ken’s beliefs, trying to find some way to resolve this sudden schism between them. Ken, let’s...

I can’t, right now, Laurie. I need to think. The doctor turned and walked from the room, heading for his own separate quarters.

Ken?

There was no response.

* * *

Quarantine Unit, Luna Base Hospital

His thoughts scattered, the doctor changed directions in mid step and headed for the Bio-Quarantine Unit, off the Hospital wing. The unit was technically outside the Lunar station, having its own gravity flooring, power supply, shielding and environmental systems. It had thirty beds in isolated med bays, with all the necessary biohazard equipment needed in the event of an outbreak; and it was scheduled to be expanded within the next year. But for the time being, it served as home for Zev Walker, Commander Roger Walker’s adopted Krev daughter. The runt of her litter of twelve, Zev had been buried and abandoned by her parents while they escaped capture. For the Krev, it was a simple tactical decision. To the human comet pilots who discovered her, it had felt cruel and uncaring; and they had brought the baby lizard back to Luna Base, where Doctors Harris and Walker, and Nurse Glenda Niven brought it back from the brink of death. Roger had opted to live in the unit for the time being, and so had co-opted three beds, organizing a room with a play area for Zev, while he and Lieutenant Niven occupied a semi-private room.

Ken pressed the door intercom and asked, Roger, may I come in? Harris heard the airlock verify the pressure, the auto-locking bolts clicked back, and he opened the base-side door and went in. He glanced around, taking in the room, the large windows looking out over the lunar surface, and buildings of the base; the television in a corner, currently off; the furniture of a typical, casual living room.

Zev sat erect in the play area, constructing something complex with a jumble of wooden blocks, Lego’s and Tinker Toys. Hello, Zev, he said, running a hand over the four foot long lizard-analog’s fur from the top of her head, down the back of her neck. The alien pressed her head back against his hand and purred, then returned her attention to the work in progress. Still not saying much? he asked. But Zev either couldn’t or preferred not to answer.

Roger walked into the room and said, "No, she’s not speaking yet, but Comet says it’s natural that Krev don’t begin to speak until they’re about a year-and-a-half old. And they often hesitate to do that until they’re certain they can speak in complete sentences, just like their parents. That same hesitant pattern is a strong personality trait that follows them throughout life, so they tend to wait until they feel competent in anything before displaying new skills publicly. She does understand us, though. She follows directions correctly; she’s attentive and friendly, and she keeps herself clean and brushes her fur and teeth. We think she’s just the cutest little Krev, ever." Roger’s voice rose as though speaking to a human child. The creature looked up at him and her jaws opened in a smile revealing long rows of sharp teeth, and Roger reached down to scratch beneath her chin.

Ken was amazed she still hadn’t bitten anyone. Personally, he would pat her on the top of her head, but drew the line at putting his hands anywhere near that mouth. Despite his early veterinary training and his innate love of animals, something that resembled a large fur-covered alligator gave him pause. And knowing she’d grow up to be twelve feet long, and eight feet tall when standing...even knowing she was a sentient being, yet capable of eating people, it gave him the willies. Ken knew he hadn’t felt that way when they first brought her in, and he tried to analyze why Zev was beginning to worry him, now. Thinking about it, her rate of growth was the one outstanding clue. Zev had more than doubled in length, and tripled in body mass in only one year. If she had a growth spurt, or if her growth rate even remained constant, she could reach her full adult size in less than three years. And that reminded him of a captured Krev pilot, and of a nightmare battle with an adult male Krev. Having slept in radio-telepathic contact with Laurie, he had been inside her dream. Besides, he often wondered whether his mind was absorbing her Denareban attitudes, and specifically her instinctive fear of the Krev. The doctor was thankful they had decided to withhold teaching Zev of her people’s history for several years.

Roger asked, Is there some reason you came by this evening?

No, not really, said Ken. I just wanted to make sure Zev’s okay. I think you and Glenda are doing a marvelous job with her. Look at what she’s building! He pointed to her construction project, then to the view out of the window. It’s beginning to resemble Luna Base! Amazing!

The furry little alien lizard looked back up at him and smiled.

Chapter 2 A tempest in a teapot

Vice Fleet Commander’s Quarters, Luna Base

Ken awoke to the alarm clock at five in the morning, with a painfully stiff neck. He knew he’d slept in a bad position, and had had a rough time sleeping at all. He and Laurie had been having personal problems and hadn’t had sex for almost five weeks, and when he thought about, No, it’s closer to six weeks. Ken knew her stress and cortisol levels must be building up toward critical levels, though they should not be anywhere near lethal levels for a Denari, yet. And he knew that sex was the only thing that could relieve pent up stress for Denari. She would need it soon, or she would begin to experience neural damage. They had to resolve their differences soon. And now this! He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his neck, thinking, Dammit! Why can’t she see the human side of the equation? She’s lived here over two years!

Bastet, the personality of his ship’s computer, linked by radiotelepathy to his mind, said nothing. She didn’t see a reason to respond to his rhetorical question, because she completely agreed with him, and he knew it.

The doctor stood up and stretched, despite the pain, then dropped to the floor for a quick fifty push-ups. Then again, why did those stupid bastards attack the ship? They had to know it was suicide. Or maybe they didn’t believe the ship would fire back? It was a boneheaded thing to do, no matter who they were. The one we have looks to me like a skinhead, though I didn’t notice any tattoos.

And again, Bastet said nothing, in tacit agreement, though he felt her sigh through their intimate mental link.

Ken quickly finished his exercise routine, showered, dressed and downed a replicated breakfast of tea, French toast and a celery stick before heading to the hospital wing to see to his patient.

* * *

0700 Fleet Commander’s Office

You didn’t come to bed last night, Ken, Laurie said privately as they sat at their regular morning conference with Laurie’s adjutant and the department heads. She was apprehensive about his behavior, wondering why he had reacted so strongly to an incident such as a ship following orders to defend itself.

Ken sat stiffly in his chair, not looking at her. I went to check on Roger and Zev. Then I got some sleep.

Laurie knew he was evading the question, and this time he hadn’t even said her name, and it made her worry more, but she said nothing else on the subject. Okay, people, what do we have on the agenda for today?

I checked on our patient, this morning, said the doctor a bit louder than necessary. He caught his strained tone, and spoke less sharply, He’s still in a coma, but the nanobots report his physical injuries are almost completely healed. So, unless he awakens some time today, we’ll need a deep scan of his brain. We are holding off the fitting of a lower-leg and foot prosthesis until we determine whether it is necessary.

Thank you, Doctor, said Laurie formally. And the cleanup process?

Colonel Interplanet Janet, Laurie’s Denari-form android aide spoke up.