Michael Siemsen - Exigency

Tom grabbed a passenger grip. “Clear.”

Aether twisted the lift throttle and brought the skimmer up to five meters. “This should be well out of reach, right?”

Tom peered over the side. “Not if they start throwing stuff.”

“Well, hopefully we can avert that.” She set the skimmer to hold, released the controls, and nodded to the opening gate. “Here we go.”

Armed Threck streamed from the corridor, fanning out in every direction. Aether glanced back as small squads of guards around the fish bay performed a well-practiced maneuver, splitting up and reassembling at the bay’s two exposed sides. Threck from the gate had traversed the field, half now passing the skimmer (without getting to close), and circling around in two organized ranks.

“Do they ever throw those things?” Aether asked, referring to the bronze-tipped staffs.

Tom’s fatigued eyes surveyed an area of troops. “Not that I’ve seen. Only melee use… Then again, one could always improvise—hey look, some folks hanging back at the gate. I’d say that’s your audience.”

Tapping at the console, Aether fed her Livetrans output through the skimmer’s more impressive PA. She turned back to Tom before sending her first prepared announcement. “ Sy-onz People?”

“Yeah… like science… it’s all in there. You merged our DBs, right? I can talk to them if you really need me to. You know, it’s just—”

Aether shook her head. “It’s fine.” She eyed once again the hundred or more Threck surrounding them. “You’re on lookout.”

Aether crouched down and clutched the handle in the floor at her feet, raising the booster platform used by shorter pilots. She stepped up onto it, rolled her shoulders to stretch, and sent the message.

“Peaceful greetings, Threck friends. Two nights ago, barbaric atrocities took place during your sacred keepock ritual.” A few figures emerged from the shaded gateway, gesturing as Aether’s message continued. “This offense was planned by one raider, who then ordered dumb, misguided followers to execute the plan.” The waving Threck from the gate—not quite so fast as the guards—plodded nearer, their waves more evidently gestures. “In the interest of ongoing peace and relations between us, we Syons People bring this villain to you, dead, killed by—”

“I think you need to pause,” Tom interrupted. “None of these people know what you’re talking about.”

Aether paused the reading at once. “As in, don’t understand because I’m saying it wrong, or that no one knows?”

“Look.” Tom pointed at the parting circle of guards in front of them, the three Threck stepping inside the ring.

LIVETRANS: No more.

LIVETRANS: Come in.

LIVETRANS: Come follow. Talk inside.

The three halted below them, regarding Skinny’s corpse with vague interest before peering up. One of them reached out with both arms, feeling the air beneath the skimmer as if some invisible pedestal supported it.

LIVETRANS: What holds it?

LIVETRANS: What is it on?

Aether turned to Tom, hands on the console as he leaned over it to see below. “They want us to go with them inside.”

“Yeah, I got that. I think that’s what they were saying all along. Before they heard anything we had to say.”

“So what do you think?”

Tom shrugged. “That I’m not big on you being around any of them.”

“If they’re willing to help us cross the ocean, I’m going to be spending plenty of time with them. You said yourself that some were reasonable, and we know now why they freaked out about your description of how antibiotics work.”

“Right.”

“So the question is,” Aether said. “Do you trust that they only wish to talk? That this isn’t some trap?”

“Honestly, I don’t think they’re capable of lying, or at least successfully. They seem unable to conceal their feelings. Subconscious body language. Just send the second section and watch.”

Aether leaned over the console to see the beckoning Threck below. “We wish to speak with Dowfwoss Unhkte, who was present during the tragic event—” The three launched into a new flurry of gestures, pointing back toward the gate.

Aether looked up and saw a Threck form standing just inside the doorway. “They’re pointing at the entrance. Do you happen to recognize that person?” Aether zoomed in and her lighting auto-adjusted. As if only a meter away, she could see the Threck figure (and a few others, deeper in the shadow), eyes inebriated, head adorned with scars of varying size, a few little divots missing from her siphons’ outer edges, and cloak adorned with purple trim.

“That’s Unhkte,” Tom said upon inspection. Aether thought she heard a spark of relief.

“Great, but I don’t like that we’re still surrounded by armed guards.”

“Maybe tell them to leave?”

Aether looked at Tom. He shrugged. She returned focus to the emissaries below. “Send away these guards so that we may come down to talk.”

The three conversed briefly with no attempt at secrecy, and ordered the guards to disperse. In an instant, the troops split into four groups, one heading for the harbor, two toward either side of the field, and one toward the gate.

Aether tapped her fingers on the panel and chewed the inside of her cheek. “They could just be waiting for us inside. We don’t have time—and I don’t have the patience—for even a brief detention.” Tom only nodded absently. She studied him. “Hey, if something starts going down, you can’t start shooting people. We’re all stuck here.”

“You made that clear earlier. I’m not some psycho, you know.”

She reached out and pulled him against her, hugging tight. “I know that, hon. I’m just nervous about this whole situation, okay?”

He nodded sheepishly and gently pushed away from her. “Not in front of the aliens, Mom.” She saw a small, fleeting smile curl into his cheek, and she felt for the first time that he would one day recover.

“Sorry.” She sucked in a deep breath, checked their surroundings once more, and brought the skimmer down close to the gate and main wall.

Unhkte stepped out into the sunlight. “I had questioned Amoss’s eyes when describing your cloud machine.” She extended an arm to touch a handrail, but stopped before making contact. “Truly your powers are beyond our comprehension.” Aether stepped down from the platform, followed by Tom. Unhkte regarded both of their bodies and faces. She then set her eyes on Tom. “Welcome back, Tom. Who is this you’ve brought with you?”

“This is our leader, Aether.”

Unhkte turned to Aether. “ Eether … is that so? This is enticing and disturbing name. Come inside. We have much to discuss.”

Through empty halls and busy arcades they walked as Unhkte recounted the events of two nights ago. A single Setkee and guard followed behind, but without weapons.

“It was clear to me that your people were as surprised and upset as we…”

TOM: I looked it up. “Eether” is their word for “the layer of mucus that forms outside the egg cavity at the beginning of a reproductive cycle.” That’s the stuff we thought might be the vessel for genetic conjugation, along with mud. If you were wondering.

AETHER: That’s great. “Enticing and disturbing” indeed.

Unhkte spoke constantly as they walked. “… convinced the Council that our people’s future interrelations would best be conducted by the Thinkers, who, I note, are tense and delighted in anticipation…”

Aether was growing concerned with how deep into the city they were walking, now having traversed a bridge and climbed three tiers. She’d hoped to step inside the gate, sit down, and talk—the exit and skimmer within reach if demanded.