Chapter 1: Planetfall

Dennis adjusted his tie and breathed on the shiny UN badge that was pinned to his lapel, polishing it with his sleeve as he looked out through the shuttle’s viewport. Below the tiny craft, Borealis hung in space like a monstrous Christmas ornament. Smears of pale clouds streaked across the moonless planet’s surface like the paintbrush strokes of a lazy deity, the arid world’s twin suns blazing in the distance, the yellow secondary almost obscured by the bright glare of the white primary.

Long years of law school and unpaid internships had finally led him to this, deployed to Borealis by the United Nations to serve as the first ambassador to Earth. They had seemed eager to ship him off, he must be needed urgently, and he had swelled with pride as his diplomatic papers had been handed to him. There were no senior diplomats available for the position, they had all mysteriously vanished when the post had been announced, but Dennis had not hesitated to take on his first real assignment. He didn’t know much about the planet and its people, but he knew that it had only recently been inducted into the Coalition and that many Borealans had never met a human before.

He would be building bridges and smoothing relations between Earth and Borealis, and more importantly, meeting new people with alien cultures and strange practices. His heart fluttered with excitement. He would not be pushing papers here, this would be an adventure!

“Ambassador Carlisle, would you please take a seat and strap in? We’ll be landing shortly,” the pilot said, turning his helmeted head to look back into the shuttle compartment. Dennis nodded and sat down in one of the seats that lined the walls, fumbling with the clasp on his harness. This was a troop transport, hardly luxurious, but in order to make the seventy-five light year journey from Earth to Borealis, he had to hitch a ride on a Navy jump carrier. The massive ships were among the few classes of vessel capable of using superlight drives to cover the vast interstellar distances, and they weren’t cruise liners by any means. He was glad to be out of the cramped ship with its spartan furnishings, and he looked forward to touring the new embassy building that he was told had been built in his honor. He might be a glorified clerk back on Earth, but these aliens seemed to think that he was of immense importance and high standing. He saw no reason to correct them.

He gripped the armrests on his seat as turbulence began to rock the little craft, and he looked forward to the pilot’s cockpit to glimpse the planet close up. As they descended through the atmosphere and the nose of the shuttle glowed orange, flames licking up the glass, the planet’s features became more developed. Enormous lakes broke up the deserts like gigantic Oases, glittering as they reflected the harsh sunlight, so large in scale that they made the Great Lakes of North America look unimpressive in comparison. They were ringed by bands of lush greenery, thick, dense jungles over which spirals of wispy clouds hovered like continent-sized patches of mist. He couldn’t make out any cities or spaceports, but Borealis was not very developed. They had only recently been introduced to superlight technology, and so they only possessed a small fleet made up mostly of ships that they had purchased from other species. He had seen no space stations or elevators in orbit either, the ships must have to make planetfall, which was extremely fuel inefficient.

The shuttle cut through cloud layers, emerging beneath an azure sky, the white glare of the primary star like sitting under a fluorescent lamp. The quality of the light had an odd tint to it, everything looked too white, or perhaps Sol made everything too yellow? The air resistance slowed the ship as it glided on its stubby wings, cruising towards its target at a more leisurely pace.

“We’re about fifteen minutes off, Ambassador. I’m supposed to give you this.”

The pilot rummaged inside a bag, then produced a small paperback booklet. Dennis unbuckled, getting up from his seat and moving gingerly towards the cockpit to retrieve it, keeping a tight grip on the handholds along the ceiling.

“Just some basic info on dealing with the natives,” the pilot explained.

The cover featured a cartoon of one of the aliens, tall with feline ears and a long tail, leaning down to shake hands with a little human. It was titled Borealis Tourism Guide.

Dennis thumbed through it, noting the somewhat ironic nature of the title. There had been no tourism to Borealis since contact had been established and they had been inducted into the Coalition, only now was an embassy being established. Had the producers of the guide expected an interest in the planet that never manifested? Tourism was not a big industry on an interstellar level due to the expense of traveling great distances, but the rich and powerful tended to travel when it was possible.

The first section was called Borealan culture and social conventions, that seemed like a good place to start.

Due to the hierarchical pack structure of society on Borealis, you are advised to keep in mind the following instructions:

Do not maintain eye contact with a Borealan, this may be misconstrued as a challenge.

Do not joke with, tease, talk back, or otherwise provoke a Borealan, even in a manner that may seem friendly or affectionate to a human.

Do not make unsolicited physical contact with a Borealan such as tapping them to get their attention, bumping into them by accident, or attempting to touch their ears or tail.

Do not attempt to argue with or assert yourself over a Borealan. If there is a disagreement, bypass them by talking to a superior.

Should a Borealan show aggression towards you, attempt to make yourself appear as weak and as non-threatening as possible then seek immediate medical attention for bites and/or lacerations.

He looked up to the pilot, his blood running cold.

“Bites and lacerations!?”

The pilot chuckled to himself, his expression impossible to discern through his opaque visor.

“Did you not research the planet that you were going to be stationed on beforehand, Ambassador?”

“Well, I glanced over the basics! I thought that it would be better to get to know the locals and build a more personal relationship with them through being immersed in their culture.”

The pilot steered the shuttle through a pocket of turbulence and Dennis grabbed a handhold in the roof of the craft as it shook.

“Then this is going to be a very enlightening visit for you, sir,” the pilot replied as the shuttle leveled out again.

“What does that mean? Why is it so funny?”

“You ever heard the nickname that the Marines give the Borealans?”

“No...”

“They call them Mad Cats. I’ve been told that they fight like lions and that they’re a pain in the ass to be around. They get sent to a special Navy facility for training before they’re even allowed to be in a room alone with a human.”

Dennis swallowed hard, looking through a nearby porthole at the arid desert racing past below them and fiddling with his tie nervously.

“I’m not trying to scare you, Ambassador, but did they not tell you this when you took the job?”

“No ... and I was the only one who applied...”

The pilot whistled, his tone sympathetic.

“Take a good read of that booklet then, and er...”

“What is it?”

“Don’t go anywhere without an escort.”

The ship glided into view of their destination, one of the massive lakes growing even larger in the viewport as they sped towards it. Its surface reflected the light of the sun like a giant mirror, the glare making it hard to look at directly for very long. Hundreds of miles of desert surrounded it, but in a wide band around the water source grew a plethora of exotic plants and trees. There was a whole forest, or maybe calling it a rainforest would be more apt. Tall, straight trees that resembled firs jutted from the canopy, alarmingly high even at this distance. Dennis was used to seeing trees like these in cold climates, and they looked oddly out of place next to the desert sands. He couldn’t make out much else as the treetops flew by them, the ship descending towards the water.

They cleared the wall of greenery, and Dennis’ eyes widened as a Borealan city revealed itself before them. It was immediately clear to him that Borealans built out, not up. There were no structures more than three or four stories tall, most buildings were long and squat with impressive stone arches and domed roofs that brought to mind imagery of Arabian or maybe Roman architecture. It was austere, but there was a unique artistry to it.

The city, small by human standards, was nestled between the band of green forest and the shore of the lake. The ground was overlaid with stone to mark the boundary between the city and the forest, Dennis guessing that it must have been cleared in the distant past and then paved over to prevent the trees from encroaching on the living space. With a start, he realized that the water sources he had seen from orbit might be the only habitable zones on the planet. Life clustered around them almost desperately, carving out what territory it could glean from the desert.

The pilot circled the craft around, giving Dennis time to take in the view.

“This is the capital city of Elysia. Each lake is a territory, each territory is ruled by a tribe, each tribe is further subdivided into packs and family units. The Elysiedde family is currently the most powerful political entity on the planet, most of your dealings will be with them. They’re currently the only territory that can afford spacecraft, and Patriarch Elysiedde has been very eager to make alliances with Coalition planets. His own daughter is currently training new Borealan troops for the war effort on a UNN starbase.”

“So these guys are a bit more ... friendly?” Dennis asked, a twinge of apprehension in his voice.

“They’re about as friendly as a Borealan is ever going to get, yeah, but don’t expect much.”

“I don’t suppose it’s too late to ask for a ride home?” Dennis asked, half-jokingly.

“Afraid not Ambassador, but in the future, please read the assignments that you agree to more thoroughly.”

The ship banked, flying towards the center of the squat city. Buildings made from what looked like sandstone in shades ranging from deep brown to off-white lined the narrow streets, the ever prevalent decorative arches passing overhead. Every other building had a domed roof, even the smaller dwellings had one. Their curved surfaces were wide and decorative, patterned with indents and ribs. Before them an impressive structure loomed, casting a dark shadow over the structures below it. It was only five or six stories tall, but it towered over the surrounding buildings. A great spire reached into the air, supported by stacked layers of massive, decorative columns. It looked like several Greek Parthenons stacked one on top of another. It was paler than the stone around it, almost pearl white, and it reflected the sunlight of the primary star like a beacon. There was construction happening beside it, a much smaller, square building with a domed roof was in the final processes of being erected. Blocks of stone and unrecognizable machinery blocked the streets in its vicinity.

As the shuttle circled the spire, Dennis spied a platform jutting from the side of the structure. It was a flat slab of rock, landing lights blinking at the edges. The pilot zoned in, carefully maneuvering the shuttle as he set it down on the improvised landing pad, the engines kicking up a torrent of dust and sand. As the roar of the engines slowly subsided, Dennis walked towards the exit ramp, apprehension knotting his stomach.

“Watch your step,” the pilot commented, and the ramp began to lower with a pneumatic hiss.

Dennis recoiled, hit by a wall of sweltering, dry heat that seared his lungs. It was like opening an oven door, the hot wind washing over him as though someone was pointing a blow dryer at his face. He stepped forward, immediately beginning to sweat inside his two-piece suit. As he walked off the ramp and outside the range of the shuttle’s artificial gravity field, he heaved as if the wind had been knocked out of him, his knees bent as he doubled over.

“Argh, what the hell... ?”

“High gravity!” the pilot called out, “1.3Gs I believe.”

“You couldn’t have warned me?” Dennis choked. It felt like someone had dropped a small horse onto his back.

“You were gonna find out eventually. Have fun Ambassador, I’ll be back to pick you up in six months.”

“Six months!?”

“Yeah, any damage to your joints after that will be permanent.”

The engines of the shuttle flared, and Dennis hobbled off the landing pad to escape the gale. He made his way down a flight of stone steps that led the spire, afraid that he might fall in the high gravity.

A large wooden door opened at the bottom of the steps, and a towering creature stepped out of the building. The alien was about eight feet tall, obviously female judging by her flared hips and her impressive bust. She wore a revealing robe made of light, blue fabric that accentuated her impressive figure and showed off the smooth skin on her shoulders and thighs, a fitting garment for such stifling heat. She was heavily muscled compared to the average human, likely due to the high gravity, with stout thighs and the outline of her abdominal muscles visible beneath the gossamer fabric. A pair of round ears that reminded Dennis of a lion or a tiger protruded from her shaggy, orange hair, swiveling to track him like a pair of fuzzy little radar dishes. She had striking eyes, amber in color with the vertical pupils of a feline, reflecting the sunlight to make them appear to glow as she scrutinized him. Her face was strange, but not so much as to be too alien or off-putting, with a pink nose like that of a cat and a flat brow. Her body too was familiar in some ways and alien in others. Her forearms and hands were coated in thin, orange fur that matched her hair, her fingers ending in curved claws. Below her smooth-skinned thighs her legs were digitigrade like those of a dog, more orange fur beginning at her knees to give the impression that she was wearing knee socks. Rather than humanoid feet, she had a pair of large paws, each toe tipped with another black claw. Her long, furry tail waved idly behind her, emerging from a slot in her garment. The strange creature called to him in rolling English, her accent sounding oddly Russian to his ears.

“Ambassador Carlisle! We have awaited your arrival most impatiently!”

He was hunched over, taking in ragged breaths of the dry air, and he was sweating as if he had just run a triathlon. He wanted to stand up straight and shake hands, make a good first impression, but it was impossible under these circumstances.

He stumbled down the last couple of steps, limping over to her, cursing himself for accepting the assignment. This was not a promotion, it was an exile! He had been the only one young and naive enough to think of adventure and prestige before his own neck. It was a lesson learned far too late, however.

“Ah! My apologies Ambassador, I ... how do you say...”

Her English was good, but not perfect, she seemed to have some odd grammatical quirks.

“The gravity here, it is too much for a human, yes? You will adapt in time.”

She grasped him gently under the arm, alleviating some of the crushing weight, and guided him into the building. They descended another long flight of stairs, the steps slightly too large for his human legs. If this alien had not been there to support him, he might have taken a dangerous fall.

When they reached the bottom, they emerged from another wooden door and into the street, turning towards the construction site that Dennis had seen from the shuttle.

“I am sorry, I failed to introduce myself,” the alien said. “I am called Xhe Fortaz, you may call me Xhe. I have been trained specially to assist you while you visit us.”

Dennis nodded, not wanting to waste any energy speaking, large beads of sweat dripping down his pale face.

“Do not worry, we will get you seated in a chair, it will help.”

They walked past heavy stone blocks and large, rugged machinery of indecipherable purpose, entering the new building through a large pair of heavy doors. They were flanked by two large pillars, and Dennis might have stopped to admire the masonry under more favorable circumstances. There was a long hall running down the center of the structure, the floor made from shiny marble that squeaked under his shoes. Borealans seemed to have a love for stonework, but perhaps in this high gravity environment, it was the only material that would stay standing. Even if the style was borne from a limitation, it was no less aesthetically pleasing.

“This is the embassy that we have built for you, as is customary for your people,” Xhe explained as she guided him along. “We hope that it will please you.”

“I-It’s very nice.” Dennis wheezed. His knees and ankles felt like they were going to give out any second.

Xhe steered him into a side room, past an ornamental door and into an open space with a wooden desk that resembled an office or a study. Everything was brand new and varnished to a fine sheen, the furniture must have been carved from local wood. She lowered him gingerly into a chair behind the elaborate desk. It was cushioned, and a little too high for him. The measurements must not have been perfect, but as he relaxed into the seat, the pressure on his legs was relieved.

“Oh lord, thank you Miss Fortaz,” he gasped.

“Please, call me Xhe.”

“Of course, Xhe. You’ll forgive my ignorance, I was not made aware of the ... local conditions when I was assigned to Borealis. I was unprepared for such heat and high gravity.”

She gave him a sympathetic nod as if she had seen his condition before.

“I understand, I have trained with humans on your Pinwheel under Miss Elysiedde.”

“Pinwheel?” Dennis asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

“A space station where Borealans and other aliens are sent to learn human customs so that they might serve in the military, or in my case assist the Ambassador.”

“Ah, yes, my shuttle pilot mentioned some such station.”

The alien was oddly reverential, she said Ambassador as if she were addressing royalty, not a politician. She had said that embassies were a custom of his people, implying that hers did not use them. Perhaps the concept of an ambassador was new to them, and they assigned the position far more importance than it really deserved. No matter.

“Xhe, may I bother you for a glass of water?”

“A drink? Of course, please wait here.”

She scurried out of the room, almost sprinting. He had never had his own secretary before, but he sensed that he would get along well with this one.

He looked around the room, or his office, as seemed to be its purpose. There were no paintings on the walls as one might find in a human-designed office, instead odd tapestries and curtains hung from the walls, made from fine fabrics. He noted that there were no windows, and in fact, he had seen no windows on any of the buildings so far.

One especially large tapestry seemed to depict a battle scene. It was crude, and the perspective was poor. It looked like something from the middle ages, but he could recognize what was being shown. A large, muscular Borealan with a flowing mane commanded an army, assaulting a squat castle whose denizens aimed at them with what looked like maybe muskets or rifles. The embroidery was intricate, fine craftsmanship despite the relatively crude art.

He examined the desk, it looked like mahogany, but it was surely some native species of tree. The deep brown, varnished sheen was inlaid with carved heads. They looked like cats, not Borealans, something else. Perhaps some local animal. Because there were no windows the only light in the office came from a bulb on the ceiling, putting out a less harsh, more yellow light than their sun. The cats had done their research.

If only they had installed artificial gravity generators, even if it was just in one room. His legs ached, and his back was beginning to get sore. He believed them when they told him he would adapt to the new gravity, but how long would that take?

His feet dangled from the tall chair, it made him feel like a child sitting at a dinner table in a booster seat. Fortunately, the front of the desk had an obscuring panel, and so anyone standing on the other side would not be able to see that. The floor was carpeted with a deep, royal red, and even the shelves on the walls were works of art in their own right. Overall the room looked like the office of a tasteless statesman, or maybe a politician who fancied himself a big player. Dennis loved it.

After a couple of minutes, Xhe hurried back into the room holding a wooden mug comparable in size to a thermos. She placed it on the table, waiting eagerly, and Dennis hefted it awkwardly to take a tentative sip.

“Thank you Xhe, that hits the spot,” he said as he felt the rasping in his scoured throat receding. “You’ve done an excellent job on the embassy, by the way, my compliments to the architects.”

Xhe beamed, her fuzzy tail flicking backwards and forwards, almost like a dog wagging. Dennis remarked the faded tiger stripes that decorated it, the same were present on the furred areas of her limbs too.

“I’m glad that it pleases you, Ambassador. We attempted to imitate human styles.”

“This tapestry,” he said, gesturing to the larger battle scene that dominated one wall as he took another drink from the cup “What does it depict?”

Xhe turned to examine it.

“That is the battle of Elysia. It depicts the ancestor of Patriarch Elysiedde capturing this territory after laying siege to its citadel. Shortly after, he would found the capital city.”

“A Patriarch is your leader then? Like a King or a President?”

“Yes, more like a King, though the title is not usually hereditary. It can be taken by force, but the breeding of great families is impeccable, and that rarely happens.”

Eugenics, then? Interesting, this species had no moral qualms about the practice.

“Does it have to be a male? Have you had any female leaders?”

“No, it can be a Matriarch, there is less...” Xhe struggle with a word. “Dimorf...”

“Sexual dimorphism?” Dennis offered.

“Yes, there is less sexual dimorphism among Borealans than among humans.”

Dennis had imagined male Borealans to be even larger and more imposing, but that might not be the case. He was somewhat relieved. It was hard enough craning his neck to speak with this female, as oddly attractive as she was.

“Will I be introduced to the current Patriarch?”

“Oh, yes, very soon in fact. He is aware of the difficulties experienced by humans in the early stages of their visit and will be coming here in person. An honor that I am sure you can appreciate.”

Dennis’ mood soured somewhat, he would not make a good impression on the leader of this planet in his current state. He would have preferred to have a straight back and a firm handshake when introducing himself, rather than being slumped in a chair with his face coated in sweat. Perhaps such an early visit was a strategic attempt to make the Patriarch’s presence more overpowering? Had the political maneuvering already begun?

“Excellent,” he replied, putting on his best smile. He had been told that Borealans were nightmarish and ill-tempered, but Xhe was lovely, very helpful too. He still had the booklet with him, he should examine it more closely and read the rest of its entries in private.

“Do you know if my luggage has arrived Xhe? I sent it ahead of me.”

“Yes, we received several containers. They have been stored in your bedroom as requested.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

He wasn’t sure what to do now. He didn’t feel like unpacking, he just wanted to sit down. It felt as if a giant boulder was compressing his chest. Perhaps he should make small talk, get to know his new aide.

“So, Xhe, tell me about yourself. How did you learn English?”

She looked flustered, had he overstepped some social boundary or was it just uncommon to show interest in the lives of employees here? She answered anyway.

“All soldiers and diplomats must learn your language, we have a school in Elysia that teaches it, then to learn human culture and social conventions we must travel to the Pinwheel and undergo integration training.”

“I keep hearing about this station, what does this integration training consist of exactly?”

“Well, human and Borealan society is very different. Interacting with humans can be ... trying for us. We must undergo intensive training to learn to suppress our pack instincts in order to live and work alongside humans.”

“It may surprise you, but I didn’t really know much about your people or your culture before coming here. I intended to learn through immersion, but I did come across some information that ... worried me.”

Xhe was visibly surprised, and her flat brow furrowed.

“Oh, I assumed that you would have completed immersion training. Your superiors did not order such schooling?”

“No, you’re the first Borealan I’ve met.”

Xhe looked concerned, touching her clawed fingers to her chin pensively.

“That complicates things. They sent you here with no training and no knowledge of our society?”

“Is that a problem?” Dennis asked, starting to get very worried.

“I will have to teach you, please do not leave this building without me, Ambassador.”

Lord, what had he gotten himself into here? He winced, his back was starting to hurt in this chair, the gravity was intolerable.

“Xhe, I assume there’s a bed in this bedroom that you mentioned?”

“Yes.”

“Could you help me up? I’d like very much to lie down for a while.”

She moved behind the desk and lifted him under the arm, the pressure returning to his legs as she eased him out of the chair and he hobbled out of the office. There was no second floor in the building, the bedroom was at the end of the marble hallway behind another wooden door.

She opened it into another ornately decorated, stately room. The Borealans had spared no expense, and their attempts to impress him had succeeded with flying colors. The question that he kept asking himself, however, was just what the Borealans thought an Ambassador was?

The bed was gigantic, the headboard was hewn from an intricately carved block of wood and must have weighed half a ton on its own. Upon it were masterfully crafted reliefs depicting more battle scenes and what looked like a hunting party of Borealans chasing down a large animal in the jungle.

Xhe lifted him onto the mattress, and he sank into the soft material, his pain immediately relieved.

“How long do I have until the Patriarch arrives, Xhe?”

“One moment,” she said as she retrieved a tablet computer and tapped at its screen. “In your time, three quarter hours.”

“Thank you.” He relaxed, sighing as the stress on his muscles and joints was alleviated.

Xhe closed the door on the human, intending to give him some privacy. It was odd being subservient to such a small, frail creature. He was barely able to survive on Borealis itself, let alone challenge one of her people. It gave her a creeping sensation of wrongness, but this was what she had trained for.

Months on the Pinwheel with the Patriarch’s vaunted daughter had prepared her for this line of work. The girl was now a Matriarch in her own right, albeit ruling over the microcosm of the station rather than a territory. She was expected to succeed her father in time, and she was the foremost expert on humans. Along with her human companion, she had taught Xhe what was expected of a secretary, one who serves the Ambassador. Xhe would never have been selected for such a task were it not for her extraordinary temperament, but even with that advantage, it had taken her months to meet the standards that Raz Elysiedde had set for her.

Xhe could be in the company of humans indefinitely now, and what few impulses to assert herself over them still rose to the surface could be kept under control. She had even learned to defer to the aliens, to take commands and to accept their leadership. Were an inferior of her own kind to make such outrageous challenges to her status, she would claw them viciously and teach them their place. But she had come to learn the way of these humans, their bizarre, contradictory social system and their obtuse culture.

Besides, this Carlisle might be physically inferior but his status was very high, he represented the UN and all of their colonies. He must be an individual of great and noble exploits to have earned such an honorable position. She should show him respect, surely after his period of adjustment to the planet’s crushing gravity, his valorous character would shine through.

Dennis splashed water on his face from a tall marble basin in his en-suite bathroom. He scrutinized his reflection in the mirror, straightening his tie and polishing his UN badge with his sleeve. The Patriarch, or Elysiedde as he was known, would be arriving soon. He must look his best and make a good first impression. The gravity still tugged at him, threatening to pull him to ground and crush his joints into bone dust, but he would have to endure it as best he could. His legs felt as if he had climbed a mountain with a rucksack full of breeze blocks.