“Standard orbit, sir,” Rougeau said as the ship’s thrusters locked the starship in a geosynchronous dance with the fourth planet in orbit around Eta Cassiopeia. From the massive bow windows, Cuatro appeared more cloudless than cloud covered, its ruddy complexion dull and muted compared to the azure oceans and emerald continents of Earth, or even the icy aquamarine poles and rich liquid lapis of Cinco’s equator.
The planet would be dry and hot; the atmosphere was as thin as the air on Mount Everest. Quixote thought for a few moments before ordering anyone to the airlock that xe should make every entreat to entice the Kiians to the Maria Mitchell without exposing their vulnerability: no shuttle, no doctor, no captain, no evidence. What did xe have to offer?
“I’ve got Commander Gorren, sir,” Watson said, tapping some icons on his screen. Then xe nodded at Quixote.
“Commander Gorren, this is Lieutenant Quixote of the Earth ship Maria Mitchell.”
“Yes, Lieutenant, what can I do for you? I wasn’t expecting to hear from any humans since you collected the specimen.”
“We’re looking for your help, actually,” xe told her. “It’s a complex issue. Perhaps you and your colleagues would like to come up to the Maria Mitchell. We’d be happy to host you here.”
“I’m not sure our schedule would allow for a visit,” the commander said. Quixote didn’t have any other choice.
“If I may appeal to your generosity, I personally have difficulty with our environmental suits. I am Draconian, not human.”
“We haven’t met?”
“No, commander. Captain Jackson asked me to manage this request on our behalf.” Xe looked at Stu and Jean, searching their faces for their thoughts on xes approach. Accustomed to reading humans by their body temperature, xe hadn’t become adept at reading their faces, even after forty years of working with them daily.
“I will get back with you shortly, Lieutenant,” Gorren said, and the telecom went off. Xe was a little surprised at the Kiian female’s abrupt disconnect but simply turned to Mr. Watson.
“You’ll be sure to advise me when she communicates again?”
“Aye, sir.”
“I’ll be in engineering,” the big reptile said and xe left the bridge but stopped in the galley on the way.
“Quixote, I don’t see you in here too often,” Bailey greeted him warmly with a soft tone of voice. “Can I get you a celery juice?”
“You’re so very kind to offer, yes, thank you,” xe said. She immediately turned and started to dig inside the refrigeration unit. “I actually came to let you know we will be hosting some Kiians later today, likely lunch or dinner fare. I’d like to ensure we’ve made our best attempt to accommodate them. I will be asking for a large favor; captain said they respond best over a dining situation.”
“Sure, we can do that. How many?” She straightened up with a vacuum packed heart of celery in her hand.
“I haven’t ascertained the exact number, but no more than six, I have to suspect.” He watched Bailey tear open the package and snap the stalks in half before putting them in a chopping machine.
“I think the captain told me about what they’d eaten on Cuatro a couple weeks ago. I’ll look in the ship’s log and see what I can find.” She turned on the machine for ten seconds and an ear splitting racket shook xes senses. Xe hadn’t thought about what was entailed in preparing his favorite morning drink before, and considered Bailey needed more credit for her efforts in caring for the crew.
The Kiians arrived a few hours later; Quixote greeted them at the airlock with Mr. Watson and Ms. Stone. Quixote made every effort to shorten his stride on the way to the mess so the Kiians wouldn’t be jogging behind them but doing so put him off balance a little. Xe’s species had evolved to run, not walk the halls of spaceships in a diplomatic march.
“Will Jackson be joining us?” asked Commander Gorren.
“I’m afraid not,” Quixote said. “I hope that won’t be a hindrance. He sends his regrets but the urgency of our situation necessitated his absence.”
The four Kiians, two humans, and the Draconian settled around a table with plates filled from the buffet line. Steward Harchett approached with two carafes, one of water, and the other, as Quixote requested from the galley, tequila. Harchett began with the water.
“I am not fluent in the humans languages,” she said. “But we will do the best we can do.”
Ensign Rougeau joined the party making a party of eight around the table. He was the only one aboard who had gone to visit the Kiians when they’d picked up the mummy. Focused on the edibles, few words exchanged until Harchett poured the tequila and brought small dishes of custard for each diner.
“This is good,” the commander said, holding up her small goblet of tequila.
“I’m glad you like it. Captain Jackson remembered a plant ale you were fond of that was served on Cuatro.” Quixote watched Gorren’s face, the expressive wrinkles and brows similar to the humans, noting the reflective, somewhat distant focus of her eyes.
“I’m honored he remembered. Thank you. I would like to talk business now,” she said while Harchett cleared dishes. “This is our research manager, Markrem,” she pointed to her left, then turned to her right. “This is Prediz, our project overseer,” and she indicated the last Kiian on Markrem’s left, “and this is our security council chief, Selix.” All four Kiians around the table were female.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Quixote said politely and introduced Rougeau, Stone, and Watson. “Let me get quickly to the subject at hand, Commander.” Suddenly Quixote knew why the captain had chosen xe to conduct the mission at hand. Xe had a permanent poker face that few primates could read except for the pupils of xe’s eyes that he had a margin of control over. He shifted in his seat a little, the human chairs not made for his physique.
“Were you aware that we were contacted by Cinconians to assist them in combating their medical plague? We’ve come to some interesting conclusions about it.”
The Kiians looked around the table at each other and then at the humans, then Quixote.
“Yes, actually, we had that information.” Her short answer clued Quixote that she knew more.
“We wondered because while we’ve been on Cinco illustrations surfaced that implicate Kiians bear some responsibility for the plague.”
“I am not understanding your words,” Prediz said. Faint chatters scuttled among the four hairy participants. Quixote looked at his crew members.
“Kiians have some blame for Cinco’s problem,” said Mr. Watson. It was blunt, but effective. They erupted in a few high pitched squeals and grunts.
“We not have blame for plague. Kiians had try helps long ago, long long time in past. Cincos asked Kiians for help, but we not have success in help,” Gorren insisted. The others bobbed their heads.
“May I ask what your efforts involved so that we don’t duplicate them?” The chattering subsided.
“We not have right medicine. Kiians kill many Cincos that had sickness much bad, do two things. One stopped suffering, other stopped germ. But too many.”
“Can you tell us when that happened?” The females looked at each other and seemed to be conferring a date.
“Revolutions of Cinco, 350, of Cuatro, 450 in past” Prediz said. Quixote looked at Rougeau for a translation.
“About 410 Earth years,” he said. Quixote nodded; the figure was cozy with Jackson’s estimates.
“So the Kiians just left?”
“Kiians contacted Pegasi long time past. They were okay to help Cincos.” Quixote froze at the word ‘Pegasi’. Quixote had little knowledge of medicine, and he was probably the most medically educated of the four of them, but perhaps for Ms. Stone. Her insulin resistant daughter cursed a knowledge of diseases upon her. He stepped to an intercom station and called Rianya.
“Rianya.”
“Ms. Jackson, I hate to disturb you,” Quixote began.
“It’s alright; what can I do for you?”
“Can you listen in to our conversation? Commander Gorren is speaking medicine and I need an interpreter.”
“Heh, of course,” she chuckled and coughed deeply. The raspy noise startled Quixote and the rest of the table. Xe thought better of turning on the visual.
“Do the Kiians know how the people on Cinco got sick?”
“Know how they got sick? Why would we know?” Gorren said. “We study the germ, found odd behavior,” she said, looking at each human in turn. “It changed all the time. Germ made little fake germs from adipose that fool the medicines. While medicine tries kill adipose, germ would change in secret.”
“Gorren, if I may, many facts we’ve encountered suggest that Kiians brought the plague, Yersinia, from Earth to Cinco.”
Silence draped over the table like a cold mist. No chattering, tittering, or words escaped from the Kiians. Suddenly Gorren stood up, tottered a moment on her feet, then became as stiff as steel.
“Kiians did not give germs to Cincos.” Quixote realized he would have to back up a bit, turn a little, try another approach. But that was the captain’s strong point, not the engineer’s. He took a long drink from the glass of water in front of him and grasped for another angle.
“I didn’t mean to accuse. We are simply looking for the answer as to why the mummy you gave us has Yersinia.”
“I’ve got Commander Gorren, sir,” Watson said, tapping some icons on his screen. Then xe nodded at Quixote.
“Commander Gorren, this is Lieutenant Quixote of the Earth ship Maria Mitchell.”
“Yes, Lieutenant, what can I do for you? I wasn’t expecting to hear from any humans since you collected the specimen.”
“We’re looking for your help, actually,” xe told her. “It’s a complex issue. Perhaps you and your colleagues would like to come up to the Maria Mitchell. We’d be happy to host you here.”
“I’m not sure our schedule would allow for a visit,” the commander said. Quixote didn’t have any other choice.
“If I may appeal to your generosity, I personally have difficulty with our environmental suits. I am Draconian, not human.”
“We haven’t met?”
“No, commander. Captain Jackson asked me to manage this request on our behalf.” Xe looked at Stu and Jean, searching their faces for their thoughts on xes approach. Accustomed to reading humans by their body temperature, xe hadn’t become adept at reading their faces, even after forty years of working with them daily.
“I will get back with you shortly, Lieutenant,” Gorren said, and the telecom went off. Xe was a little surprised at the Kiian female’s abrupt disconnect but simply turned to Mr. Watson.
“You’ll be sure to advise me when she communicates again?”
“Aye, sir.”
“I’ll be in engineering,” the big reptile said and xe left the bridge but stopped in the galley on the way.
“Quixote, I don’t see you in here too often,” Bailey greeted him warmly with a soft tone of voice. “Can I get you a celery juice?”
“You’re so very kind to offer, yes, thank you,” xe said. She immediately turned and started to dig inside the refrigeration unit. “I actually came to let you know we will be hosting some Kiians later today, likely lunch or dinner fare. I’d like to ensure we’ve made our best attempt to accommodate them. I will be asking for a large favor; captain said they respond best over a dining situation.”
“Sure, we can do that. How many?” She straightened up with a vacuum packed heart of celery in her hand.
“I haven’t ascertained the exact number, but no more than six, I have to suspect.” He watched Bailey tear open the package and snap the stalks in half before putting them in a chopping machine.
“I think the captain told me about what they’d eaten on Cuatro a couple weeks ago. I’ll look in the ship’s log and see what I can find.” She turned on the machine for ten seconds and an ear splitting racket shook xes senses. Xe hadn’t thought about what was entailed in preparing his favorite morning drink before, and considered Bailey needed more credit for her efforts in caring for the crew.
The Kiians arrived a few hours later; Quixote greeted them at the airlock with Mr. Watson and Ms. Stone. Quixote made every effort to shorten his stride on the way to the mess so the Kiians wouldn’t be jogging behind them but doing so put him off balance a little. Xe’s species had evolved to run, not walk the halls of spaceships in a diplomatic march.
“Will Jackson be joining us?” asked Commander Gorren.
“I’m afraid not,” Quixote said. “I hope that won’t be a hindrance. He sends his regrets but the urgency of our situation necessitated his absence.”
The four Kiians, two humans, and the Draconian settled around a table with plates filled from the buffet line. Steward Harchett approached with two carafes, one of water, and the other, as Quixote requested from the galley, tequila. Harchett began with the water.
“I am not fluent in the humans languages,” she said. “But we will do the best we can do.”
Ensign Rougeau joined the party making a party of eight around the table. He was the only one aboard who had gone to visit the Kiians when they’d picked up the mummy. Focused on the edibles, few words exchanged until Harchett poured the tequila and brought small dishes of custard for each diner.
“This is good,” the commander said, holding up her small goblet of tequila.
“I’m glad you like it. Captain Jackson remembered a plant ale you were fond of that was served on Cuatro.” Quixote watched Gorren’s face, the expressive wrinkles and brows similar to the humans, noting the reflective, somewhat distant focus of her eyes.
“I’m honored he remembered. Thank you. I would like to talk business now,” she said while Harchett cleared dishes. “This is our research manager, Markrem,” she pointed to her left, then turned to her right. “This is Prediz, our project overseer,” and she indicated the last Kiian on Markrem’s left, “and this is our security council chief, Selix.” All four Kiians around the table were female.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Quixote said politely and introduced Rougeau, Stone, and Watson. “Let me get quickly to the subject at hand, Commander.” Suddenly Quixote knew why the captain had chosen xe to conduct the mission at hand. Xe had a permanent poker face that few primates could read except for the pupils of xe’s eyes that he had a margin of control over. He shifted in his seat a little, the human chairs not made for his physique.
“Were you aware that we were contacted by Cinconians to assist them in combating their medical plague? We’ve come to some interesting conclusions about it.”
The Kiians looked around the table at each other and then at the humans, then Quixote.
“Yes, actually, we had that information.” Her short answer clued Quixote that she knew more.
“We wondered because while we’ve been on Cinco illustrations surfaced that implicate Kiians bear some responsibility for the plague.”
“I am not understanding your words,” Prediz said. Faint chatters scuttled among the four hairy participants. Quixote looked at his crew members.
“Kiians have some blame for Cinco’s problem,” said Mr. Watson. It was blunt, but effective. They erupted in a few high pitched squeals and grunts.
“We not have blame for plague. Kiians had try helps long ago, long long time in past. Cincos asked Kiians for help, but we not have success in help,” Gorren insisted. The others bobbed their heads.
“May I ask what your efforts involved so that we don’t duplicate them?” The chattering subsided.
“We not have right medicine. Kiians kill many Cincos that had sickness much bad, do two things. One stopped suffering, other stopped germ. But too many.”
“Can you tell us when that happened?” The females looked at each other and seemed to be conferring a date.
“Revolutions of Cinco, 350, of Cuatro, 450 in past” Prediz said. Quixote looked at Rougeau for a translation.
“About 410 Earth years,” he said. Quixote nodded; the figure was cozy with Jackson’s estimates.
“So the Kiians just left?”
“Kiians contacted Pegasi long time past. They were okay to help Cincos.” Quixote froze at the word ‘Pegasi’. Quixote had little knowledge of medicine, and he was probably the most medically educated of the four of them, but perhaps for Ms. Stone. Her insulin resistant daughter cursed a knowledge of diseases upon her. He stepped to an intercom station and called Rianya.
“Rianya.”
“Ms. Jackson, I hate to disturb you,” Quixote began.
“It’s alright; what can I do for you?”
“Can you listen in to our conversation? Commander Gorren is speaking medicine and I need an interpreter.”
“Heh, of course,” she chuckled and coughed deeply. The raspy noise startled Quixote and the rest of the table. Xe thought better of turning on the visual.
“Do the Kiians know how the people on Cinco got sick?”
“Know how they got sick? Why would we know?” Gorren said. “We study the germ, found odd behavior,” she said, looking at each human in turn. “It changed all the time. Germ made little fake germs from adipose that fool the medicines. While medicine tries kill adipose, germ would change in secret.”
“Gorren, if I may, many facts we’ve encountered suggest that Kiians brought the plague, Yersinia, from Earth to Cinco.”
Silence draped over the table like a cold mist. No chattering, tittering, or words escaped from the Kiians. Suddenly Gorren stood up, tottered a moment on her feet, then became as stiff as steel.
“Kiians did not give germs to Cincos.” Quixote realized he would have to back up a bit, turn a little, try another approach. But that was the captain’s strong point, not the engineer’s. He took a long drink from the glass of water in front of him and grasped for another angle.
“I didn’t mean to accuse. We are simply looking for the answer as to why the mummy you gave us has Yersinia.”
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