Chapter 9

On the way to the conference room, Merritt filled my ears with chatter concerning the rumors of how a mystery man in a mask with tingling lips, stole the hearts of women during a wheel dance in the night club. She seemed prone to exaggerate, so the conversation drifted away from my focus. I'd added a grunt and a nod every now and then, after she completed her narrative of each woman's story of what others had said. "Gossip upon gossip, " I thought. "Third hand at best." I just didn't understand why the subject was so interesting. We both were there and present for the dance. "So what, " I thought. "Spreading nanomites could get me into trouble. It's not romantic or funny to me."

She never did seem to realize the level of my disinterest, but if it kept her mind off the summons by Price, I could live with that.

We arrived on the floor just a level below the command deck. Kate greeted us outside the elevator in her white dress uniform. Neither Merritt nor I had dressed up for the meeting, wearing standard skinsuits that many off-duty crewmen used instead of full uniforms. In truth, all three of us were not on the ship's roster, so a dress uniform seemed a bit over the top. Kate and Merritt were essentially contract employees and I was a guest. However, even in the Academy, Kate was known for being prim and proper. She wasn't normally excessively decorous, just neat and formal if she thought something was important.

Kate looked us over like a commanding officer reviewing her troops. She opened her mouth but must have thought her comment unwise because she gasped like a fish for just a moment, and no words came out. A waft of a minty perfume flowed around me as Kate gripped me in a hug.

She whispered, "I didn't tell him anymore than the barest details about your planet. There is no flight data available and that really pissed him off. Have you checked your implant for it? The flight data is stored on mine in a secure file using a Solon security code. That code is one I used with your mother for information relating to the prototype shuttle. It means Miley moved the data, as only she would have had access to it. The question is why was it moved with the captain's knowledge but not the commander's? I've never heard of an artificial intelligence hiding data before. I wish I could talk to your mother about it. Ah, also, you should know my new calculations show the wormhole has a couple of months left in this location."

Kate let me go as soon as her last words died on her lips. Between the surprising hug and the secret data, I had a hard time keeping my face in a neutral mask. Merritt's eyes were blinking in surprise. I think Merritt heard some of the comments, but perhaps not all of them. The security person standing outside the conference door, a few feet away, looked disinterested in us. Guarding a conference room door unarmed probably made him feel pretty unhappy. To me, I knew it was a sign of power and prestige to have such a man in place. The guard was a pawn in a game worthy of the Port Lord of Convey on Haven.

Commander Price staged his interview in a massive conference room rather than a proper-sized room with a more comfortable feel. Uncharacteristically, only one long table was set up, with three chairs facing it and a dozen chairs full of people behind it. I thought it odd that only four people were seated at the long table, while the rest of the people sat in a separate row behind them. Of course, Price sat at the head table in formal attire with senior scientists, the people behind wore either dress-white uniforms or blue technical suits. To the side, my lover, Yeoman Gundlach stood protecting a short table of food and a water pitcher. Julie smiled at us when we entered, but she didn't move and stood at ease like the other steward with her. A cameraman rounded out the show. Price couldn't have made the setting more formal or stiff, if he tried. "He is testing my resolve to see if he can use peer pressure to crack me for information," I thought. "Anyone at the Academy would have told him, I wasn't known to be a social conformist."

It is likely that in its distant past, admirals and dignitaries had conferred in this very room. Portraits of famous men were behind the head table, the life-like images seemed to stare at me as much as the audience did. The scientists buzzed with loud conversations until we were noticed. I could sense they were excited to gain access to us, as if we had some secret information of cosmic proportion for the picking. "Well, to be fair, I guess we do, " I thought.

We didn't have to be told the prescribed etiquette was for us to sit in the three interview chairs. Kate, Merritt and I quietly took our seats. I resolved to act as a man, not the boy they saw.

With a barely perceptible nod from a bald scientist to Commander Price, the ship's second-in-command said, "Ladies and Cadet Solon, this is the data analysis group set up by the company's scientific staff to collect and write a report on the planet known as Haven. We have chart makers, an anthropologist, planetologists, biologists, and other distinguished Empire Space Corporation staff here to interview you."

I swallowed hard while he spoke, even knowing what the inquiry was about, the words still affected me. In some ways it was a remarkable sight, a panel of eminent and learned scientists focused on our words. The bald scientist's bearing pinned him as the real panel leader. In my estimation he looked somewhat aloof. He was particularly short. I think he was about five feet tall with porcelain-white skin. He exuded breeding and confidence, which came naturally to him, a minor nobility perhaps.

Looking into the camera for a moment, Price remembered the microphone and leaned towards it. "Before we go any further, allow me to introduce the panel who will be questioning you, Dr. Nigel, Dr. Brownrigg, and Dr. Malt."

I had already decided the best defense was upending their sanity with blunt comments and evasive responses.

"I am sorry but your scientific inquiries into Haven aren't my immediate concern," I responded respectfully. "Theories on planetary bodies in another part of the universe are interesting and exciting to specialists like yourselves, but not me."

One of the scientist sighed, and then lowered his head to some papers on the table, shaking his head in disappointment. The commander's reserved look disappeared. Most of the scientists squirmed in their seats, looking irritated.

I added, "In my judgment, the Empire's involvement with this primitive planet will disrupt the evolution of their society. I cannot be a party to scientific and political interference on the scale that a broad awareness of their culture will evoke."

A less notable scientist sitting in the second row of chairs threw up his hands. His pony-tailed hair thrashed in intense displeasure, and his narrowed brows dropped as his face scrunched up in anger. I didn't focus on him, but caught his assistant rolling his eyes in compassion for me. "At least one of them has some sympathetic feelings, " I thought.

Commander Price stood, tugging his white uniform; straightening some perceived imperfection more likely gave him a moment to gather a response. Disgust was clear on his face. He moved away from the table and paced before us. I could tell he wasn't a quick thinker when he said, "Cadet, you think too much, when you should just submit to your betters. Your youth doesn't give you the experience needed to make such judgments, nor does such cynicism show high intelligence."

I was tempted to ask if we could compare IQ scores but dismissed the thought. My smug grin caused the commander to color a bright shade of red. It seemed to unhinge certain people when I held my own confident thoughts.

Dr. Malt was the woman who had sneaked information about me in Medical. I wasn't surprised to see her on the panel, she hadn't been happy with the captain denying her more medical information about me. In the bright lights of the conference room, the woman looked even older than I remembered. Hard lines cracked deeply from the corners of her eyes when her brows narrowed. "Definitely in her fifties, " I thought, distracted by the intensity of her stare.

"We don't know if that planet is in our universe," Dr. Malt said, trying to move the conference forward.

Of course, that was my working theory but I wasn't going to react to her comment with my personal affirmation of agreement. People behind her seem to have odd grins, like they thought she was crazy.

I just couldn't help myself, adding, "Sounds like a pretty radical concept. Do you believe in time travel too?"

The audience behind her let out a few laughs, which ended when she swung her head around to look at who was laughing.

When she turned around to talk to me again, I interrupted her before she got another word in. "I just don't understand. Last time we met in Medical you were reading my personal medical records. I assumed you were a medical doctor or biologist."

Dr. Malt turned bright red in horror. The looks on the faces of the audience were satisfying, as were the few gasps of disbelief. Medical records were private and protected. It was a serious breach of ethics to access them.

"I am a biologist. I have a right to my opinions," Dr. Malt answered.

I noted she didn't deny being in Medical with me nor address the fact she put her nose in my private business. "She'd make a skilled politician, " I immediately thought. With an active recording of the meeting, she limited her response.

Dr. Malt pressed me. "You returned with a number of scars. Does that indicate Haven is a violent world? One hopes that is not the case."

The chill from the flash of swords, the remorseless blood of my enemies soaking my tunic, the roughness of a staff in my calloused hands, dulled my focus for a moment. The memories leaked into the dark places of my soul, hurtful things best forgotten. The dead men I had killed showed their faces to me.

"Well?" she insisted, unhappy with my delayed response.

"No more than any other world I have visited," I answered truthfully without thinking. "Next question."

The image of blood on my hands had rattled me, causing me to forget my answer deflecting strategy for a moment.

Dr. Nigel, the bald man jumped at his chance to get to me. "What do the people look like on Haven?"

"Outrageous," Dr. Malt snapped. "I wasn't finished."

"You've already jumped out of turn, Dr. Malt," he answered. "We agreed upon the questioning order and I didn't object to your interference, as I should have. Let me enjoy my rightful turn."

"Their bodies look exactly like our own but I am not a biologist nor an anthropologist. Next question," I said.

"That wasn't very helpful," Dr. Nigel said disapprovingly, while Dr. Malt looked at him smugly.

Dr. Malt looked at me, and then glowered sideways at the commander, willing him to do something about me.

The third scientist at the table looked at me quizzically; Dr. Brownrigg, a kind-looking, overweight man, perhaps truly believed I wasn't interested in helping them. He leaned forward. "Captain Winslow's written report mentioned you were rescued in a wooded area adjoining a village."

He looked at his notes, and then asked, "The coastal village had a wooden palisade with an active dock. What were they shipping?"

"Water," I snapped, not understanding his ploy immediately.

The neutral sounding question generated curiosity among the panel, shifting the action to his point. Every inch of my being wanted to scream in frustration at being sucked in by these professional questioners.

I looked at my women for a moment, ignoring everyone else. How I admired Kate for keeping her posture straight and her face stoic through all the verbal jabbing. Merritt looked like a deer ready to bolt, this type of theatre wasn't for her.

"What value did water have in a world full of water?" Commander Price inquired, pulling me back to reality.

The panel looked very interested in me. The water question changed the dynamics of the panel's coalition. Their focus returned to me and Haven, not the perceived slights from my earlier answers. Dr. Brownrigg cleverly created an arc of interest and a bridge that intervened in the pettiness. I sighed with understanding, having mulled his comment over more. My mother would have been disappointed in my loss of focus, falling for such a simple interviewing strategy.

The commander politely tapped the table for my answer.

"I found a unique mineral-water stream that we used to promote clean water drinking. I knew mineral water had health supplements that were valuable if the larger population was educated to them," I said. "Next question."

"Of course, a primitive society wouldn't understand a lot of sickness is distributed via unclean water," Dr. Brownrigg acknowledged.

"I think there is more to it than that," the commander mumbled under his breathe.

"You convinced a coastal village to trade in water? That is fascinating," Dr. Malt added.

"Von is a sweet talker," Merritt said, surprising the audience.

The back row snickered and laughed at the comment.

Commander Price saved Merritt, no longer interested in question order. "We are here to listen to the information you uniquely have about Haven. Tell us how you arrived on the planet?"

His question silenced the murmuring audience, they wanted to hear my response. My earlier comments were forgotten and the embarrassing information about Dr. Malt's behavior disappeared from their minds. All the scientists seemed to lean in to hear what I had to say about the crash landing.

"Excuse me for asking, but why wasn't I notified of this meeting?" the captain asked from the door behind us. "Why wasn't it on the ship's meeting calendar? I have a number of questions of my own, Commander Price."