Dadr'Ba (11 page)

Then she decided, give them a thorough review of the latest findings and let them judge for themselves that nothing has significantly changed. Chn’Gi quickly rolled up a tally of the amount and kind of data collected, hoping to spit out some numbers that would fill the void and save her career from getting chewed up like official papers through an ancient document shredder.

She began with the antenna time used, the number of transmissions detected and the frequencies; then attempted a summation “the intelligent life shortly after the initial broadcasts have successfully started two-way communications, which was to be expected. The original signals were in quite broad bands, which made it easier for us to detect them. They’ve successfully begun to narrow the bandwidth of their transmissions, an indication of the advancement of their technology and the quality and quantity of transmissions has increased steadily.”

“They have yet to begin to broadcast video, which is essential in breaking the language code. The signals have all been a series of long and short pulses, the combination of long and short pulse length along with the absence of a timing signal indicates it’s not binary but rather a rudimentary code of approximately forty characters.”

“Our analysis has not been able to detect a key or a pattern that we can identify. Without a key or pattern we cannot begin developing a translation of their language or languages. The IL doesn’t seem to be aware that others, such as ourselves are picking up their signals and are not broadcasting a key, therefore, they are broadcasting for their internal use.”

“As you should be able to see, they are pretty far from being able to transmit video or an image which, aside from sending a pattern or key that we can recognize is the only way we will be able to begin to understand their language.”

“The advancements needed from where they are now to where they need to be to transmit images or video is substantial. My team and I have no anthropological data or comparables to work with or examples from even our own history of technological development. It would be helpful, may I ask, that my team and I be given access to our own history of technological development on Or’Gn?”

As Chn’Gi spoke the last sentence, that was later erased from the official meeting report, the room grew deathly quiet. The look on Commander Di’Zo’s face hardened, and the others shrank back from the table almost as if anticipating an explosion. But instead, with an expression as cold as ice and a voice louder than normal speaking tone, but not shouting, sounding almost robotic, very controlled coming from someplace deep within him. He only said, “No, it’s forbidden, and don’t ever ask again unless you want to suffer the consequences.”   

It took the longest time for Chn’Gi to respond, but no one seemed to be in a hurry, the virtual room appeared to have been frozen, freeze-framed, it didn’t even look like anyone, even the other officers around the table breathed.

Commander Di’Zo continued to stare directly at Chn’Gi. Finally, Chn’Gi managed a weak, distant but audible “yes, sir”, then broke eye contact with the Commander and glanced down at her notes, flustered beyond belief and trying to regain her composure. 

Finally, she continued, haltingly at first, “Once they begin… transmitting video… we should be able… to decode, or develop a translation of the language or languages. That is the significant event that my team and I are waiting for because besides translating their language we will be able to see what the O’Mi’s look like.”

The assembled group seemed to go along with Chn’Gi’s reasoning until the last, and looked at her in surprise; the Commander visibly stiffened and glared first at his vice then back to Chn’Gi, this time, level toned but shouting “What’s an ‘O’Mi?”

Chn’Gi couldn’t bear to look at the Commander. She dropped her eyes and focused on the smart table in front of her. Sensing that she was on the edge of a precipice, summoning all her strength in a soft, meek apologetic tone replied: “that’s what we’ve taken to calling IL on O’M.”

The Commander responded this time in a calm even tone, almost as if making up for his earlier outburst “These things are not ‘O’Mi’s’ they’re invaders, they are a pestilence that has laid claim to our world and are undoubtedly poisoning it.”

“Thousands of years ago, before they even had a brain to think with, we chose this world to be our home. They are invaders and robbers and will have to be dealt with. In your reports, refer to them as “IL” and I never want to hear the term O’Mi again, understood?” Chn’Gi, barely audible “understood.”

“Now, you will be expected to keep me, and the council informed about how fast these invaders are developing and what we can expect concerning other forms of technology they may be developing. That’s all.” The meeting ended.

As P’Ko turned the corner on his way to school, He spotted Dan’Zu and his gang across the street in one of their regular hangout spots, where the surveillance cameras didn’t have a very good view. Not unexpectedly, they were tormenting a new kid.

P’Ko could tell by the marking on the To’Ta’s uniform that the victim was a fifteenth-year student. P’Ko was already in his eighteenth year and hadn’t seen the kid before.

Must be a transfer P’Ko thought. P’Ko wasn’t surprised that Dan’Zu would be up to his old pranks, P’Ko had learned how to avoid Dan’Zu over the years, and lately, he’s done a pretty good job of it. For the most part, Dan’Zu and his crew moved on to younger weaker prey.

This poor kid must feel alone, afraid, new school and all, and looks weak willed and immature, not so much different than P’Ko was when Dan’Zu began picking on him. P’Ko thought back to the times that he fell victim to Dan’Zu and his gang.

Transfers don’t happen very often; the kid’s parents must have changed jobs or job locations to wind up here. P’Ko watched Dan’Zu and his gang laughing and shoving each other and the new kid. P’Ko knew that this roughhousing was experienced much differently by this kid, than for Dan’Zu’s gang.

The kid was near the breaking point, hands shaking, arms brought up in a defensive posture, head down, staggering as the group shoved the kid around a rough circle.

P’Ko’s blood boiled, he could imagine himself there. Years later yet still fresh in his memory this was P’Ko before he escaped and got so good at evasion that they left him alone. Now he’s older, more mature and confident that if he needed to, he could take on the whole gang and this hidden corner would be the perfect place. He too could play this slaphappy game of theirs.

P’Ko went into action; he walked up to the group laughing and shoved one of the gang members out of the way catching the new kid just as he is about to fall and maneuvered the victim behind him, putting himself between the kid and the gang.

The bully that P’Ko shoved cursed, but the rest of the group laughed along with P’Ko. Then P’Ko swiftly started to work his way around the circle of bullies. The first he gave a friendly slap on the shoulder, followed by a couple of quick diversionary moves, then ending with a light, open-handed slap to the face that left the bully looking bewildered.

The second one got the same treatment but ended with an elbow to the midsection doubling him over. The others, including Dan’Zu, still laughed. P’Ko was behaving comically, but when the last one crumpled to the deck, the laughing abruptly stopped. The mood instantly changed, and Dan’Zu yelled “Hey, knock it off” but when P’Ko continued, called the gang to the attack.

P’Ko ducked and dodged quickly and swept the legs out from under number three and shoved number one that had started to lunge into Dan’Zu. And turned to work on number four. Number four had been content to step back and watch began to back away. Dan’Zu yelled again “don’t just stand there, get him!”

P’Ko lightly slapped number four across the face three times in quick succession while batting down his attempt’s to block. Then grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, causing him to lose his footing and flop to the ground, he sat on the ground with a stupid look on his face.

Dan’Zu shoved the gang member that P’Ko sent his way to the deck and losing all restraint wildly tried, to P’Ko’s surprise, a couple of rudimentary martial arts kicks and punches, forcing the rest of the bullies to step back in the process and watch with amazement.

P’Ko dogged Dan’Zu’s failings easily, then stepped forward to Dan’Zu like nothing was happening and with one hand, took Dan’Zu’s arm and twisted it in an awkward angle and with his free arm, P’Ko wrapped it around Dan’Zu’s neck as if in an embrace pinning Dan’Zu so he couldn’t move.

Then P’Ko said loudly “Dan’Zu, you’re such a kidder, this is fun.” Then, turning his head and whispering so that only Dan’Zu could hear “I’m going to let you keep your self-respect, but if you bother this kid or anyone else again, I’ll embarrass you in front of your friends to the point that no one will ever respect you again.”

Then P’Ko dropped his arm from around Dan’Zu’s neck and shook loose Dan’Zu’s twisted arm. Then stepped around, reached out and shook Dan’Zu’s hand. With a sober, sincere tone, P’Ko thanked Dan’Zu for the fun, then saying, looking over at the new kid that they had been picking on, that it was “too much fun for little kids and that they should leave the younger ones alone. What d’ya say?”

Dan’Zu paused for a long moment, then responded “yes, I guess you’re right” with that P’Ko stepped through the middle of the group, and passed over to the bullied kid that was watching it all. P’Ko said “let’s go” to the kid, putting his arm on the kid’s shoulder, and guided the kid away, once out of earshot P’Ko told the kid that these bullies shouldn’t bother nim again.

The new kid’s name was Tn’, still a nor, ne was still undecided about what gender ne is most comfortable with. Rather effeminate, not prissy, more tomboyish, not at all uncommon for a fifteen. Tn’ thanked P’Ko for the rescue, expressing amazement at how well P’Ko handled himself against five adversaries. P’Ko dismissed it as luck and by taking them by surprise, not wanting Tn’ to guess about his martial arts training.

P’Ko told Tn’ about how these bullies picked on him when he was younger and that he had run away, and eventually they got tired of chasing him, and that he had always wanted to stand up to them. Seeing Tn’ getting picked on gave him that chance. P’Ko said that it was he that should be thanking Tn’.

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P’Ko and Tn’ became friends, Tn’ was grateful and always looked for ways to repay P’Ko. Tn’ would hang around P’Ko whenever ne got the chance. P’Ko could rely on Tn’s company, and support. Tn’ was pleasant to be around and always anxious to spend time with P’Ko.

P’Ko treated Tn’ like a boy, an effeminate boy, but still a boy. One day after school, P’Ko and Tn’ were hanging out sitting up in one of the best viewing places of Nu’Tn, talking, and as friends sometimes do the subject came round to gender, and rather matter-of-factly, in a conversational tone, Tn’ asked P’Ko whether he liked boys or girls. P’Ko’s response was “Girls, of course”; “Oh” was Tn’s reply. P’Ko asked Tn’ “what about you?” Tn’ replied, “I haven’t decided yet” paused, then “I guess I’ve got time enough to decide.”

Chn’Gi reviewed her notes for the report; she still felt beat down and depressed. Since the discovery of the O’Mi’s she’s felt as if she’s been sent to prison.

The eTaC-M fused to her skull seemed to produce a tiny ringing in her head. It was probably just her imagination, but it served as a constant reminder of how much things have changed. She longed for her little studio apartment, and wished that she’d never had the “privilege” to brief the Central Council on anything.

She’d gotten better with her reports, she learned at her original ‘O’Mi’ blunder not to try to decide for the Commander and the Council what was significant and what was not. But hasn’t been able to purge O’Mi from her vocabulary and every time she reports she spends too much brain power trying to avoid another ‘O’Mi’ slip. According to her boss, she came dangerously close to getting herself mind wiped or forcibly retired.

The assembled Central Council in this week’s virtual meeting were, as usual all focused on her, she could feel the pressure, but instead of nervous or excited, she felt deflated, like she was pancaked against the inside of the hull on zone four.

She began her report, as if starting a recording, “The transmissions have advanced to tighter frequencies, and we’ve been able to determine that the IL’s are probably using more than one language, still with no key it’s impossible to decipher. The IL’s have recently begun analog type signals that we are reasonably sure is audio, but we can’t be certain.”

The Vice interrupted her and asked if they could hear a sample. Chn’Gi responded “certainly” and with a few strokes on her desktop, what sounded like someone trying to speak, garbled, sometimes muffled sounds, with frequent choking and retching, filled the room. After a few long moments of garble with pauses that could be interpreted as sentence breaks.

The Commander interrupted “Enough, we don’t need to hear any more of that garbage.” getting nods of agreement from everyone. “Continue with your report.”

“We speculate that the IL is divided by language so there must be more than one set of populations separated by culture or geography. They must have a certain level of metal refining, manufacture, and technical capability in order to construct a radio. They most likely have manufacturing and a transportation system on a relatively large scale and be capable of supporting it. All of that would also necessitate population centers and the food production and infrastructure needed to support all of the above.”

Someone that had been off camera, apparently monitoring the meeting suddenly appeared and the virtual conference table flickered as a new person joined next to the Commander, the person that had been sitting there shifted over a position, the virtual table compensating instantly. The new person was now at the Commander’s right side while the Vice remained on the Commander’s left.

Without introduction, the newcomer asked, “What weapons are they capable of producing?”

After a pause to reflect, Chn’Gi juggled the possibilities in her mind and responded: “that isn’t my area of expertise, but with the metallurgy and manufacturing capabilities demonstrated, the ILs should be capable of producing explosives and projectile weapons.”

The conference room went silent, and the view froze and frosted over, someone in the conference must have muted the conference as one or more meeting members had a private discussion.

Chn’Gi sat in silence. After several long moments that could have been seconds or minutes, the conference came back online. Her boss was now the only one visible across from her. “Good work, from now continue to report every development, and feel free to provide speculation on their weapons capabilities. We will have “appropriate” experts review your data and provide us specific detailed analysis and options. In the meantime, we want to continue to hear your interpretation”.

The wall across from Chn’Gi’s desk returned to being a wall, and Chn’Gi laid her head down on her desk and took a deep breath and exhaled, almost sobbing. What must these ancient cold, stoic people be thinking or planning?

The Council and especially the Commander most certainly must be Touch of God Survivors. There mustn’t be any other way for them to attain such high positions. Dadr’Ba status and rank are based strictly on seniority; all the top people are Touch of God Survivors with perhaps only with minutes or seconds of travel time seniority separating them.

But more importantly, how does being a Touch of God Survivor change the way people think about things? These people have wealth beyond imagining, have lived for the greater part of a thousand years, what stories they could tell, and more importantly, they may have pre-Touch of God knowledge.

She wondered how it might affect one’s mind to be on-the-job for centuries without any significant break, the competition for the top slots must be enormous and taking any time off must run the risk of losing your position. The Central Council must not be as central and cohesive as the name implies, it’s clear to Chn’Gi it’s a dictatorship.

The Commander’s lieutenants, the Sector Commanders, and staff are free and ostensibly encouraged to give advice to the Commander, but the Commander has the final word. And although the Commander cannot force any of the staff to take time off, whereby ensuring his seniority advantage, he can influence their quality life by the tasks he assigns them and the freedom of action he allows.

It’s a balance; he desperately needs his staff, therefore, must try to maintain their cooperation and obedience, if not loyalty.

Uncooperative staff members and even sector commanders given cause can be placed into a kind of internal exile and denied a say in the running of Dadr’Ba. They’re allowed to live a life of quiet seclusion, given a mundane job inappropriate with their position, forever monitored by security. A recipe virtually guaranteed to turn all but the strongest person into a vegetable.