01: Searching for Buried Treasure

I: Letting Go of the Past

What we want are unpractical people
who see beyond the moment, and think beyond the day.
Those who try to lead ... can only do so by following the mob.
It is through the voice of one crying in the wilderness
that the ways of the gods must be prepared.

Oscar Wilde

1: Searching for Buried Treasure

Human salvation lies in the hands
of the creatively maladjusted.

Martin Luther King

“Man,” Ivan laughed, “I loved how the people on Woodham’s world of Tretorln reacted when they saw us approaching in a Zssizliq battleship. They about shit themselves. Believe me, when a Treetender does, watch out below! Talk about your high-fiber diets!”

“Just remember,” Al cautioned, leaning back with his feet on the bridge’s console, “until we escape the Tandorian’s dominion that response will continue. We’ll need to calm everyone quickly, or our problems will rapidly escalate.”

“Still, it was worth the stop,” Etta reflected. “No one on his home world knew they had anyone still living on Tandor. When they discovered he’s launching a new agricultural business on the Tandorian homeworld, they were excited.”

“They were more gratified knowing the Emperor is no longer in charge,” Siss reminded them. “He kept pressuring them to sell their forests, which they hold dear. When they wouldn’t, he established a complete multi-century planetary embargo, treating them as outcasts.”

“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” Xi said, shooting her a glance.

“That’s why I’m glad to be starting fresh. As well as we did here, there’s too much resentment and hostility.”

“There are too many bad memories.” Al leaned over, taking Myi’s hand and lifting it to his lips, kissing it. “Though they were mixed with happy adventures, trusted friends and decent people I’ll remember as long as we live.”

The crew of the Peaceful Avenger—as they’d renamed their hybrid Zssizliq/Tandorian ship—came from a variety of backgrounds. The basic crew of thirteen humans fled an Earth that didn’t appreciate them and where they were actively hunted because of their otherworldly appearances and talents. Their weak innate abilities were boosted by nanobot Tandorian aids implanted when they were young by the descendants of a long-dead shipwrecked crew. Yet those same capabilities left them estranged from every other human.

Reaching the Tandorian homeworld of Tandor, they were met with open hostility and suspicion. The once-peaceful intergalactic society was embroiled in a centuries-long war with the Zssizliq, an insect-like species viewed as savage and barbaric. Faced with the implicit threat of execution, and refusing to cower to intimidation, the humans defeated the mental probes of a widely feared Inquisitor. That led to the Tandorians granting them an opportunity to prove themselves by demonstrating they could withstand the Zssizliq probes as easily as they had Quichoq’s. In short, they faced death whichever route they chose.

Realizing how unlikely success was as they lacked the abilities the Tandorians assumed, the humans used deception to buy time to plot another strategy—colluding with the Zssizliq to end the relentlessly persistent war. Along the way, they repeatedly demonstrated an ability to accomplish the impossible, winning accolades. However it was when they proved they could bend the Tandorian aids to their will by changing their pre-destined lifelong mates, that they gained their newest crew members—previously sidelined warriors who’d lost their bond-mates.

Pair-bonding was a particular Tandorian concept, similar to pre-arranged marriages, only your mate was chosen by your aids long before you were old enough to realize what it involved. Unfortunately, since the aids cemented the relationship, if something happened to one partner, the survivor was left alone and ostracized by a society unwilling to accept that the same fate awaited them too.

Turning the Tandorians’ quantum-linked security against itself, they escorted three heavily armed Zssizliq warships across the Tandorian Empire to confront the Emperor, forcing him to renounce his throne, which resulting in the creation of a new Tandorian Republic. Still seeking a welcoming home, they spurned unimaginable wealth and power and set off on their own. Once more searching for a world where they’d be accepted, rather than manipulated for others’ benefits.

“I’ll give you another millennium to stop that,” Myi replied. She enjoyed the attention, no longer worried about the complications with the uniquely human practice, which rendered Be delirious during their first romantic encounter.

“It’s too bad the Treetenders don’t have a space program anymore,” Siss added. “Otherwise they could do something about it.”

“Don’t count them out quite yet,” Al continued. “I talked to Rollsqmarsh. He’s not sure when they can act on it, but he’s planning on opening trade with them and developing a mutually beneficial relationship. With the Tandorians in such terrible shape, they’ll leap at anything they can get. I’m sure with Zssizliq assistance the Treetenders will do well on their own terms. Now’s the ideal time for Tandor to return their abandoned, crumbling infrastructure back into forests. It’ll take time to recover, but if the Treetenders can provide a sustainable product, they’ll make significant inroads with the Tandorian attitudes.”

Rollsqmarsh was their Zssizliq liaison who’d helped them arrange peace between the two intergalactic civilizations and helped them remove the Tandorian Emperor. As a partial repayment, he’d given them their current ship, complete with the technical training in how it functioned.

“You keep trying to spread wealth you don’t possess, even when the people can’t stand you,” Be said, cuddling up on Al’s other side. “Yet you somehow make it work, not by knowing how it’ll turn out, but by sheer force of will.” She leaned up and kissed him. “That’s what we love about you.”

“Best is part, have most exotic nuts I ever see!” Chich’k tossed up one nut, catching it in her mouth before repeating with another while continuing. “Hell, even Smirl’k their water love, as nutrient rich it be.” Her tail twitched, as she loved her nuts!

“No,” Adulla corrected. “The best part was convincing them to trade us some of their more robust seeds. Combined with the native seedlings from each of our worlds, which Admiral Lillslik shipped us before we left, we’re sitting pretty. We’ll keep a small portion of our pasts alive, have a more varied food-stock, as well as improving our chances of finding something which might grow in whatever soil we encounter.”

“Yeah, that’s great,” Gary, one of their security officers said, grinning evilly. “When we finally discover a new home, we’ll have lots of aggressive non-native species killing each other as they eradicate what little native horticulture there is.”

“That’s why we’re using our extended journeys to test the plants against one another,” Eli—one of their information officers—said. “We can observe which cooperate, and which need to be separated.”

“We’ve got the tools to determine if they’re chemically and biologically supportive,” Theo, their resident physicist, offered. “Though they won’t tell us how well one can defend against the others. Thanks to my two wives, I’m learning more about the biological sciences all the time.”

“With the combined Tandorian/Zssizliq knowledge,” Etta added, “we’re better able to isolate and promote each aspect of a plant’s adaptive behavior. They’ll now cooperate, rather than fighting over a few additional inches of space. By limiting one’s production of a particular enzyme or compound, they’re more inclined to work with other flora possessing those resources.”

“With enough experience, we can extrapolate the behavior to similar plants on other planets,” Addy concluded.

“Don’t forget the increased oxygen on the ship,” Etta reminded them.

“I’ve always been told,” the One stated, “the air from living plants is richer than that artificially generated, but that produced by those from your own world is the sweetest of all.”

“That makes sense,” Etta responded. “We’re all symbiotic species who learned how to utilize the resources of our environments. The air aboard is much better than any Tandorian or Zssizliq ship I’ve ever been on.”

“Maybe so, but it begs the question,” Addy said. “What is our mission? What’s our goal? Do we just keep going, whether we locate a suitable home or not? Will we eventually need to accept defeat, returning to Tandorian space in utter humiliation? And more importantly, what determines success in selecting a new home?”

“You’re right,” Al’s first bond-mate, Be, agreed. “It’s about time we worked out the details, since we’re all wondering the same things.” The others nodded, leaning forward awaiting word from their captain.

“Well,” Al hesitated, considering everyone’s reactions, “we need to face facts. This is likely a do-or-die mission, and beggars can’t be choosers. In the end, we’ll have to select a home, even if it’s not habitable, requiring us to construct an artificial habitat to live out the rest of our days.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense conceding defeat before that point?” Gary argued. “If there are no suitable worlds, we could easily head back, restock, and choose another direction. It may take longer, but there are many unexplored regions.”

“There are, but the odds are against us,” Al stressed. “There’s a reason why the Tandorians ceased their explorations for new worlds, especially in this oddly undocumented region. We’re traveling on the benefits of goodwill. None of us are independently wealthy, and this ship, our supplies, hell, even our food and fuel, were donated to us. If we return with our hat in our hands to a Tandorian Republic where few remember what we did for them, we won’t get a second chance. Also, while there certainly are other areas to explore, including in or beyond Zssizliq space, it’ll take a long, long time reaching those frontiers. Again, we’ll burn through the few remaining favors we possess, and exhaust whatever new resources we can beg, borrow or steal. At this point, continuing on, despite our uncertain prospects, is our only viable option.”

“Plus, the numerous supporters of Emperor Sujub-eun Uesuam and Quichoq would love to see us fail,” Siss reminded them. “They won’t hesitate to kill us outright. If we return, without success, it would likely undo the good we’ve accomplished in turning Tandorian culture around. They might demand a new Emperor. Believe me, there’s no shortage of people looking for easy answers. Begging for assistance while considering our options is not a way to win popular support.”

“Yeah, that’s always been the major weakness in Democracies,” Eli conceded. “They might not break right away, but they’ll bend for long stretches before finally snapping back or shattering completely.”

“So, there’s no fallback position?” Betty asked, her face falling. “I mean, I knew the trip was perilous and we faced incredible odds. But I never considered ending up on a barren planet without hope of supporting life, and still not returning.”

“What reason you no tell?” Chich’k asked, no longer focused on her nuts, her furry tail twitching.

Al shrugged. “The same as always, the crew is stronger when they believe in their success. That’s why I typically don’t voice my doubts, because it brings everyone down and our productivity takes a nosedive. With so few of us, we can’t afford anyone getting morose, much less everyone losing hope.”

“Still, know nice,” Chich’k said.

“Yes, I should have admitted it during our initial planning. But everyone was so eager to get underway and discover new worlds. I didn’t want to burst everyone’s bubble.”

“Yet you didn’t hesitate bursting it now,” Del pointed out. “What changed?”

“You deserve to know the truth. If anyone doesn’t want to continue, they can disembark on Noxim, the outermost world along this frontier. Although they’re not on friendly terms with the Tandorians, they get enough passing traders. I’m sure you can arrange a trip back—though you’ll be sorely missed.”

Everyone fell silent, considering the alternatives.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Eli said, “but Al’s right. We don’t have much choice. It’s like when we set off from Earth. We knew, no matter what we faced, we could never turn back. We’d burned all our bridges, and even if we tried, by the time we could return, no one would remember we’d once lived there.”

“Not to mention, returning in an alien warship like this would have everyone hunting us again,” Gary said.

“And with us,” Taq, their Tandorian external engineer, added, “we knew when we first signed on our futures might be short. If Al’s first meeting with Rollsqmarsh hadn’t gone as well as it did, our lives would have been forfeit. Yet we didn’t question his or our bond-mates’ decisions, not even when we decided to tackle the Emperor on Tandora. Is this any different?”

“No, it’s not,” Ivan, an internal engineer said. “It’s just a shock, as Al said. His reluctance to confess isn’t as much his fault, as ours. It didn’t take much prodding to get him to admit the truth, but we never pushed for an answer. That reveals more about our desire to believe in his infallibility as it does his wanting us to succeed, despite his doubts.”

“So, does anyone want to return?” Siss asked, glancing around the room. “I’m sure a pirate planet like Noxim would welcome qualified engineers. If we can guarantee an in with the new government or the Tandorian military, we can trade on that to win passage back.”

No one voiced any objections, but they took their time before slowly shaking their heads.

“See what I said? It’s a real party killer knowing I’m not infallible. I learned long ago not to admit when I’m skating by on false bravado and I don’t see how everything will eventually pan out. When your confidence is shaken, others are less likely to accept my revelations. Would we have made it all the way to Tandora if my own crew didn’t trust we’d survive? Would Rollsqmarsh, when we led three Zssizliq warships through Tandorian space, with thousands of military ships within striking range?”

“Still, it’s better knowing,” Be quietly cautioned. “However, whatever we decide, we need to believe in our own infallibility, just as young warriors need to assume they’ll survive when setting off for battle. Otherwise, we’ll never succeed. Doubt is more dangerous than the mightiest foe’s weapon.

“No, we’ll adapt. And we need to do it soon, because you’ll surely be spinning a few tall tales on Noxim, too. But it will take us a little while to regroup.”

“If it helps, we have plenty of supplies,” Al reminded them. “Our energy is virtually inexhaustible and we’ll resupply what we’ve already consumed on Noxim. No matter how difficult it might be locating a suitable home, we can last a very long time. Long enough, no one is likely to recall who the hell we are if we ever return.” He turned, indicating the various plants they’d been discussing. “We possess enough resources to ensure sufficient food, oxygen and nutrients on virtually any planet, no matter how barren. The penalties for failure are steep, as they’ve always been, but the likelihood of success was never this high. We all knew this was a one-way trip when we first set out. This merely drives the point home. However the search goes, there’s no turning back unless we do it now.”

Myi glanced back at their assorted sustained-environment pots, which provided isolated environments for the various plants from different planets. “I don’t know. As much as I love the idea of searching out new worlds with our new families, I’m worried about leaving everything we know behind. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t regret joining you for a second, but there’s so much we’re leaving behind, including dear and supportive friends. Now, we’re facing an uncertain future with no definitive plans, and only our wits and limited resources to keep us going.”

Be and Al grasped her hands, both lifting and kissing them as Al had before. “And we’ll get through this together,” Be assured her. “Like with Altritol, your previous bond-mate, the key is never to forget.” She leaned in and kissed her. “Instead, it’s for us to keep their memories alive in your heart.”

“Speaking of your enduring four-way romance,” Lamar teased, “what’s up with Al and Siss? Is that something no one’s supposed to mention?” Lamar was not only Taq’s gay bond-mate, but a fellow external engineer who kept the ship operational during the extended flights between worlds.

“As you well know, our relationships flourish through our group marriage based on our honesty and inherent trust in each other,” Al answered. “Ask away. We keep no secrets from anyone here. As my bond-mates and most everyone else knows, I’ve been coaching her.”

“He’s doing a tremendous job, too,” Siss, their Tandorian security officer pair-bonded with Gary and Del announced. “I never imagined in my wildest dreams I was capable of being an Intuit, yet here I am, guiding the ship through unchartered space.”

Intuits are highly valued in the Tandorian intergalactic culture. When a collision with debris no bigger than a pebble can obliterate an entire system while traveling near the speed of light, an Intuit’s precognition allows them to sidestep those collisions before they occur. They can also, by extending those abilities, often determine whether any particular strategy or situation is likely to fail as well.

“That’s another capability of the Tandorian aids which they never quite grasped. While they promote the skills which individuals are best suited for, just like with pair-bonding, they aren’t their masters. Figuring we possessed some latent talent among us, I spent time with everyone, trying to see how they’d deal with anticipating disasters. It turns out Siss has strong precognitive tendencies, which I coaxed her aids into enhancing to their full potential. Though they aren’t as well developed as her security and fighting skills.”

“Not yet, anyway,” Siss said, grinning. “But they’re improving all the time.”

“Within reason,” Al cautioned. “I’m not about to risk our lives unnecessarily. I’m never far, so if she makes a misstep, or doesn’t accurately predict something, I can step in before anything happens.”

Chapter 2 »