Дэвид Нордли - How Beer Saved the World

“Do you think, Sergeant? That’s why your ship’s abeam, coasting in toward HD 40307g.”

Before he had time to answer, or even think things through enough to know not to, the room quaked violently. Col. Hazelshen blanked out and the two prisoners were left alone in their cell to wonder what had just happened.

No one bothered them for three or four sleep-wake cycles. The ‘bots delivered their meals on time but no humans appeared to tell them whether their fate had been decided, or even what had disrupted the interrogation. So, when the utilibot appeared without their breakfast, Ernie felt certain they were on their way to a summary court martial. But the ‘bot simply opened the cell and rolled out again.

“Are we free to go?” Randy asked.

“You can, if you want,” Kravitz said. “But this place was my last duty assignment and I’m not going anyplace until I get another order.” So the two of them settled back down on their cots and resumed the game of “I Spy” they’d been playing to pass the time until Lt. Bengessert arrived.

“I guess you boys are heroes, after all,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Come on. You’ve got places to go.” His smile made Ernie feel like a rabbit with a fox between him and his warren. They marched to their quarters in silence, and Bengessert ordered them to put on their dress uniforms and report to the shuttle pod.

On the way down to the planet’s surface one of the other junior officers filled them in.

“ Puta que pariu ! A wasrship, twice our size just popped into empty space a few hundred klics from our starboard side. The shockwave nearly spun us around.” While the Terran forces relied on quantum entanglement for instantaneous contact with their home base and other ships in the fleet, their aquatic hosts had leapfrogged that technology entirely and used a version of the Quantangle for instantaneous matter transfers. “If we hadn’t made that maneuver, a ‘respectful shift sideways,’ the exos called it, they might’ve just vaporized us on the spot.” How the exoethnologists we had learned so much in the short time they’d been in orbit was beyond his pay grade, but Ernie’d been in trouble enough to know not to ask embarrassing questions.

The colonel checked twice to make sure there were no other obstructions and took her place on the platform beside the two Expeditionary Marines as the First Counselor scuttled aside. She uncurled a scroll and began reading, stopping every five words or so to allow the translators to render the statement into a semblance of the Nimrazzian dialect.

“The Caudillo of Galactic Expeditionary Forces of the Terran People takes pleasure in presenting the Marine Commendation Medal to Master Sergeant Ernest Kravitz for valorous achievement as a combat mess sergeant in support of Operation Outward Bound on the Ninth Terran Standard Day of Tamuz, 2356 M.E. While in transit from their successful campaign on Gliese 581g, now known as the Hyperion Colony to Nimra, formerly designated as HD 40307g…”

Mention of the astronomical designation drew sustained belches of amusement from the Nimrazzian luminaries on the reviewing stand, interrupting the reading of the citation. Following their hosts’ example, Hazelshen pretended not to notice.

“MSgt. Kravitz performed tasks above and beyond the normal duties of his post that proved instrumental in the successful initiation of peaceful contact between the Terran and Nimrazzian…” Col. Hazelshen hesitated as half a head appeared, floating just behind her ear. The colonel cocked her head closer to the hovering face, forehead wrinkled and a pained expression on her face. Then a thin smile broke though. “…between the Terran people and the Nimrazzian solifugians.

“In the process of creating a special treat for the crew of the TPS Intrepid , Msgt. Kravitz, with the material assistance of Tsgt. 1Randolph Urquell, caused their vessel to approach the planet Nimra in a uniquely unthreatening manner, allowing the solifugians to recognize the peaceful intent and desire for mutually beneficial relations prior to actual First Contact. By doing so, Sgts. Kravitz and Urquell acted in keeping with the highest traditions of the Expeditionary Marine Forces and the United Terran Uniformed Service.” Ernie heard Randy swallow a laugh, making a noise in his throat that sounded distinctly like the Nimrazzians’ chortling. Ernie wanted to bust a gut, too but he did a better job of restraining himself.

The colonel then repeated essentially the same speech, substituting Randy’s name and rank where appropriate. Finally, the colonel draped phantom ribbons over their heads and saluted, before turning on her heels and marching into oblivion.

As soon as the Quantangle shut down the medals disappeared from their chests. As if on cue, the entire Nimrazzian delegation clacked, slid and dove for the water, their endurance on land stretched by the length of the ceremony. The officers making up the ship’s official delegation to the ceremony broke ranks, mingling easily with one another. Now that no one was monitoring their behavior, they left a wide half-circle between themselves and the two noncom heroes.

Given the gap in fundamental science, the ship’s commander had made an executive decision and greeted the Nims as if they were simply explorers on a peaceful mission of discovery. But that didn’t mean that he and his tech sergeant were off the hook as far as the crew was concerned.

Senior officers, from the captain on down, had found that the ship’s repairs could not proceed without their immediate attention. That left the junior officers to attend the humiliating ceremony, cozying up to a bunch of giant water scorpions. By rights they should be blasting the Nims to their liquid Hell, prepping the planet to be another outpost of the Terran Imperium.

Lt. Bengessert cast a look of cold disdain in Kravitz’s direction. No one had volunteered for this detail, even if it came with being the first to see the New Land—not that there was any land to speak of: a few rocky outcrops stuck their heads far enough out of the water to dry off in midday.

With the Nims gone, he abandoned any pretense of respect for the pair of fubars. From the expression he wore now, Ernie guessed Bengessert wanted nothing more than to frog march them back to the orbiting ship and shoot them out the nearest missile tube. Right now he was probably picturing himself pushing the fire button.

Standing apart from their escort detail, Randy Urquell paced the floating platform, waiting to load back onto the shuttle for the trip back into orbit. Ernie fingered the spot where the holographic medal reached on his chest, wondering where they would be sent next.

Having just been declared heroes, Ernie could be fairly certain they weren’t headed out an airlock as soon as they left for their next port of call but they’d probably be beached on the nearest colony world. He just hoped they’d have tasty local fauna for himself to work with. And some nice grains for Randy.

Take a seat. You beat the rush and I caught the bartender checking you out as soon as you walked in the door. Even if you don’t swing that way, it’s nice to be appreciated. The beer’s cold, the nuts fresh, and the bar clean. If you had anything better to do, you wouldn’t be here. Neither would I, and it just so happens that I have nothing on my schedule for the next long enough, so we might as well talk.

Isn’t it beautiful? No, not the microbrewery logo laser-engraved on the pilsner glass, but the dark amber ambrosia within. Fit for the gods themselves and gateway to the secrets of the universe. Not many people know that. Not many people know either that back when it was first invented, beer saved the world.