You
lucky, lucky people! 2 Chapters in 2 days! Here is chapter 21 for your entertainment. Chapter 22 is nearly ready, I just have to work out some dates and fill in some system names.
Enjoy.
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Othaglot & Cane: Chapter 21
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(
click here for chapters 1-19. Chapter 20 is available further down this thread. )
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The Endeavour flew around the Gamallon system for a week, attempting to tidy up the mess caused by the destruction of the Marilyn. First, it returned to the old freighter’s wreck to collect the team left to search through the scattering debris. The hulk, still travelling on its original course and velocity toward the Ceres warp point, rolled idly in space, surrounded by a cloud of broken metal and spinning cargo containers. The engine portion had been utterly obliterated, and only a few twisted shards of hull remained of the massive cargo area. Somehow the bLast had been directed forward in a blade-like shape, splitting the remainder of the ship down the middle along more than half of its length: Only the frontmost third of the structure held the ship’s port and starboard together. An angular incision into one side of what used to be the cargo bay’s front wall showed where the medical bay had been surgically extracted.
By the time we came for them the search team had recovered bodies or body parts to account for everyone aboard at the time of the explosion. No Cue Cappan remains had been found, although they had not been ordered to look for any.
The crewman who had suffered from exposure had died without waking up, five days after the bLast. Of the Marilyn’s crew that left only Captain Frasier and a young woman named Yenn, a maintenance technician. Frasier was making a steady physical recovery. He would eventually require new legs, grown for him from his own DNA, but until he could get back to a planetary hospital he would be adequately mobile on military-issue prosthetics. According to Yenn however, his personality had become somewhat unpredictable, and she said that his appearance had aged 30 years since the bLast. He had already made arrangements with his insurance company to go back to the Marilyn with an assessor and salvage crew.
Mentally, I added forty-three counts of murder to the fugitive’s charge list: Seventeen personnel from the Endeavour and twenty-six from the Marilyn’s complement. Now that she had committed such a devastating crime in Terran space, the humans would want to try her themselves. As well as being pursued by the local police forces, the Terran military would now harbour a grudge against her for the Endeavour’s casualties. There was also the backdrop of military espionage alluded to by Enyemin Cane and the subsequent involvement of the intelligence agencies. Add to that the possible murder of various Vikings, her recent betrayal of the Gla and her list of enemies was growing long. Here in alien territory where no one has even heard of Frontier Order, I began to feel as though a queue was forming in front of me for this woman and in the case of an arrest, my demands for extradition would be pushed to the back of the line.
I voiced these concerns to Commander Lock, and after some consultation with his chain of command it was agreed that the entire incident was to be dealt with through the intelligence agency that was ‘borrowing’ me from Frontier Order. They ordered, via Lock’s superiors, that everything was to be kept as quiet as possible until my work on Plenty was concluded. The local law enforcement and space traffic management authorities were notified of the “accident” according to normal protocols, and the Endeavour’s crew removed and stored all evidence of sabotage was the ultimate conviction of the killer, if she still lived to be tracked down and brought to justice. When the salvagers came for the Marilyn, they would find nothing to contradict the official story of an engine malfunction.
Captain Frasier was outraged, since such a malfunction would affect his not only his reputation but also his insurance claim. Offers of compensation and talk of Federal security did little to lessen his anger, but eventually he accepted that he could do nothing about it, and reluctantly swore himself to secrecy.
Once business had been concluded with the Marilyn, the Endeavour pursued the first escape pod at full speed and found it empty as anticipated. Rather than proceed to New May, Lock decided to return to Plenty. With the death of the Marilyn’s Last casualty there was no longer any pressing need for medical facilities beyond the scope of the Endeavour’s own high-tech medbay, and the new destination was more convenient for everyone. The Endeavour would be able to replace its lost crew members from the military base there, I would be able to continue with my undercover assignment and Cane could return home to do whatever it was he had planned. Frasier was due to transfer to a salvage ship a week or so into Ceres, heading back to the wreck we had just left. Yenn insisted on going with him.
All this time, I found myself more and more alone. Cane avoided me religiously, hiding himself away with Loorl for days at a time. I used the time to research the viking cult, taking full advantage of the ship’s extensive information systems. Reluctantly, I reminded myself that the capture of the murderess was out of my jurisdiction and no longer any of my concern. I had to focus on the daunting task of infiltration ahead of me. I found I could learn far more easily without Loorl’s ‘tuition’, and by the time we reached the warp station I had absorbed the history of the ancient and modern cults, and most of the terminology and traditions I would have to emulate in my undercover role. All that remained was to learn the extensive mythology central to the story-telling rituals.
The ship picked up a dozen or so people at the warp station, dropping them at the sibling station on the other side to continue their journey. Now within the Ceres system, my goal was within sight. Plenty was a bright blue point at this distance, and with every passing day it grew brighter and rounder.
Eight days into Ceres, Captain Frasier and Yenn were due to take a shuttle to meet up with the salvage ship, and so a formal dinner was arranged to mark their departure. Lock and his officers were dressed in their finest red uniforms, and Loorl soon arrived in what he often described as his ‘best helmet’, although I knew him to possess only one. I was surprised when Cane entered the room and took the place laid for him. He was wearing a new suit, and only after some time did I realise what was strange about it. When he had explained in the Marilyn’s medbay that the skinsheet was his own, I had assumed he would have the Endeavour’s medical personnel graft it onto him to remove the scars from the mining colony. Instead he seemed to have opted to keep the scars and wear the skin as a suit, although who he had found on board with the necessary tailoring skills I could not imagine.
There was something strange going on between Cane and Loorl, and I took a look into Cane’s mind to find out exactly what it was. I was stunned at how suddenly I learned what it was.
All Cappans, as part of their education, are taught certain mental disciplines. These exercises structure their minds in a particular way, making them better hosts for Cue and allowing not only the cappans themselves but also joined individuals to more easily find information within that mind. A by-product of this education is that Cappans usually become sufficiently aware of their own mental processes that they can restrict access to probing psychics if they choose. General mind states and emotions will still be unblocked without further training, but specific information can be shielded. It is normal practise in my culture for both joined and unjoined to keep sensitive things hidden away in private, but allow access to the larger part of one’s knowledge to anyone who may need it.
The moment I tried to read Cane, it became instantly clear what he and Loorl had been doing in secret for the Last two weeks. Cane’s mind was completely surrounded by a barrier. His utter refusal to allow any kind of access to his mental space would be considered highly rude in Cue Cappan culture, and I flinched at the shock of it. Cane noticed my movement and smiled, turning to face me.
“I’ve learned some valuable lessons lately, Othaglot.” He said. “I hope you’ll excuse my distancing myself from you lately, but I felt I was at a disadvantage and I didn’t want to talk to you until I could do so on equal terms.”
I could still read his general mood, and he seemed more calm and balanced now than he had been since I first met him. This led me to hope that the mental self-examination required to attain this new skill had at least been therapeutic for him.
The meal began. I felt extremely uncomfortable, although Cane seemed entirely at ease. Loorl exhibited no small amount of glee at my discomfort. As usual, Loorl and I were served a large pile of unheated seafood, on this occasion it was something called salmon accompanied by crabsticks. The humans, as usual, had a wide variety of heated animals and vegetables to choose from. They also served wine, which I had not seen before. From Loorl’s reaction, I guessed it to be an intoxicant and I decided to accept a small amount for myself. I would doubtless need to drink the stuff in order to fit in with the vikings on Plenty. I drank very cautiously, and I had to admit that I found it acceptable, although it had a strange warming effect on my digestive system.
Twenty minutes into the meal, we were all listening to Captain Frasier recount some anecdote about his extensive travels when Loorl interrupted rudely.
Why aren’t you eating?”
The question was directed at Cane, who had accepted no food or wine, taking only water.
Cane flushed and stammered, and I understood the dilemma he was faced with. Would it be less polite in the eyes of these etiquette-conscious Earthers to acknowledge the interruption and reply to Loorl or to disrespectfully ignore him for Frasier’s sake? Whichever he did would probably have been wrong, but Frasier mercifully baled him out, making allowances for Loorl even though I sometimes thought he had a better grip on the Earther mentality than either myself or Cane.
“I imagine he’s fasting.” Said Frasier, and Cane nodded.
Loorl looked shocked, and Cane laughed. “Don’t worry, as an outsider you won’t be expected to participate.”
“Why would anyone deliberately deny themselves food?” Asked Loorl.
“It’s a tradition on Plenty.” Cane replied. “In the week before the summer festival we take in nothing but water, in memory of what happened during the Oxy War.”
There was an uneasy silence, and Frasier broke it. ”Since Mr Othaglot and Mr Loorl will soon be visiting Plenty for the first time, perhaps a little history would be a good thing. I’ll be happy to tell the story if it’s difficult for you Mr. Cane, but I’m sure it would be more accurate coming from a native of the planet.”
Cane nodded quietly, and fell silent for a few moments, his headed dropped. After a few moments he looked up. His face was wet.
“Excuse my emotion. This story always touches me, ever since I heard my Grandfather tell it for the first time. He would always cry when he told it, but he would never start the story without finishing. I’ll try to tell it as faithfully as he did.”
He paused again and began. Story telling for anything other than practical purposes is a rare thing among my people: We prefer to describe things as they are rather than how they came to be. My study of humans, however, leads me to believe it is something of an art form among them. The Viking cult, certainly, revel in it. It seems to be an instinctive part of their nature, the result – or maybe the cause – of their linear minds. From the responses of the others around the table, I could tell that Cane was a good story-teller. For my own part, I listened with interest, but all the time I was self-consciously aware that this was something the wiring of my mind would never allow me to fully appreciate.
[ March 11, 2003, 14:00: Message edited by: dogscoff ]
Re: Othaglot and Cane - Story Thread
Now, it's giving me a 500 error, of all things. 
Probably just some freakishness of my ISP right now. Please go ahead and send the .doc file, if it's not too much trouble.
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