04: Uncovering Lost Secrets

It is the secret of the world
that all things subsist and do not die,
but retire a little from sight and afterwards return again.
Nothing is dead.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Ah, Zita,” Al said, as she entered the common room where everyone was discussing recent events. “How are the Zitorians doing?”

“As you know, they’ve accompanied us since our initial meeting. Sorry, that’s not quite correct. They accompany us until they encounter another group, and pass us off. It appears each tribe escorts us through their territory.”

“Yeah, we appreciate that, especially as we can now operate our thrusters—short bursts at least—to realign ourselves.”

“Trust me, they gorged on the energy fromeeeeeee their fight with the Tandorian warship. They’re hardly starving.”

“It doesn’t explain how patient each new group is, though,” Be pointed out.

“I still haven’t mastered much of their language, as there are so few common references to rely on. They seem to understand what we’ve done, how we were attacked, and most importantly, how we allowed them to take care of things without intervening.”

“Figure out you, ‘adopt us’ why?” Chich’k asked.

“Not really. As we’ve discovered, they’re both highly intelligent and intensely curious, so more than anything, I suspect they’re studying us. Why, I haven’t a clue.”

“I’m guessing we’re the first non-Zitorians they’ve ever been able to communicate with,” Myi said. “Having seen us attacked, they figured we have a few enemies and need protection.”

“More likely, being so social, we’re simply the first intelligent species to converse with them,” Be suggested. “They’re clearly eager to get to know anyone who appears friendly.”

“I’ve studied the fight between the Zitorians and the Tandorian warship,” the One said, “matching the results with various models. Their dark-energy abilities are fascinating.”

“All right,” Al said. “We don’t let you brag often, so go ahead. How did they manage so much destruction that quickly?”

“Normally, their effects wouldn’t be very disruptive. If we combine them and their gravity waves, it wouldn’t equal that of a small moon. That’s not enough to nudge a ship that size. But it’s the nature of their construction which makes us so vulnerable.”

“How so?” Ivan asked, as he and leaned forward.

“You’ll notice they aren’t affected by their own attacks. It’s because their bodies are organic. Just as a tall tree in the wind, it gives and sways. Their surfaces stretch in response, but don’t fracture.

“A ship with a metallic hull isn’t designed to give, which makes them well-suited to supporting life in hostile environments. However, when even one Zitorian creates those waves close up, it strains the alloy in ways it isn’t devised to handle. The metal is pulled, snaps back, is stretched in another direction and again rebounds. Each ‘word’ in their speech is a different frequency, which translates into distinct intensities. The constant buffeting stresses the components, causing the internal bonds to fail, so there’s nothing holding the material together.

“And that’s from a single Zitorian. When you have dozens or more, all attacking at once, the stressors are magnified exponentially, as the metal isn’t pulled in one direction, but in hundreds in a matter of moments, causing almost immediate failure. I suspect, if we examined the remains, you could break the larger slabs apart with your bare hands.”

“You’re right, that is amazing,” Lamar said, showing the same far-away look Al displayed when communicating telepathically or imaging some future scenario. “We need to study those properties. It’s possible we can add some element to our hull to allow it to survive the same swaying motions without compromising its structural integrity. Possibly an external coating to disperse the stress.” He turned, clapping Ivan on the back. “I think we’ve got a new project to investigate. If we master it, we could interact with the Zitorians with little fear of suffering from unintended damage.”

“You mean aside from having our engines and life support drained?” Ivan asked archly.

“Hey, I said unintentional,” Lamar chuckled.

“It goes beyond that,” the One continued. “I suspect it’s how they survive, rather than just a defense against foes they’ve never encountered. Imagine their encountering stray asteroids. They’d undoubtedly contain radioactive elements, though shielded by other components. Using their voices in the manner described, they’d break apart the ice, rock, and minerals, allowing them access to the elements they require.”

“That makes sense,” Lamar noted. “This region is chock full of debris which never formed into planetary bodies. And I imagine an asteroid is like a fat boar wondering by: succulent, rich, tasty and providing more energy than they’d normally consume for weeks.”

“It also suggests they began as dark-matter beings,” Theo said, jumping into the discussion. “How they come to exist in space is something we may never know. Yet they probably started by consuming dark energy, before moving on to other sources, giving them the resources to thrive.”

“What about the one who was injured?” Xi asked, interrupting the technical discussion. “Did it survive?”

“It did, although it wasn’t doing terribly well, the last I saw of it. I’m guessing they have the ability to absorb energy, in addition to their thick outer skin, which protects them from their harsh environment. Between those two, the laser-array wasn’t as damaging as it would for us. But I have no idea if it’ll heal eventually or not.”

“Did you notice if they provided any medical treatment?” Xi pressed.

“They do, though it’s mostly sharing energy. From what I observed, they transfer beneficial energies as well as drain the damaging kinds, much as we’d suck out a poisonous snake’s venom. But beyond that, there doesn’t appear to be much they can do. Although they’re very social, there’s no physical interaction between them.”

“So you’ve got no clue how they reproduce?” Etta asked, eager for clues into their behavior. Instead of answering, Zita shrugged.

“Well, you’ve certainly gone above and beyond the call of duty,” Al assured her. “Not only have you proven your mettle as a telepath, you’ve ensured our survival and provided tremendous insights into an unknown species. I realize you’ve put in long hours, not wanting to miss anything, but you should sit back and relax while you can.”

“I spoke with the One about Zita’s abilities,” Xi explained. “Although she wasn’t consciously practicing her telepathy since reaching Tandor, it turns out the aids are always working, even when we’re unfocused. Thus they’ll randomly target someone she speaks with, gathering stray thoughts. Say someone uses a term she’s never encountered. Her aids prompt her to get the explanation from the person she’s speaking with, with neither aware of it. Those exercises kept refining her abilities as it continually challenges her. So when she needs it, her mental ‘muscle memory’ is ready. That also explains how Al, after lying about predicting things no other telepath could, suddenly discovered he could do the very things he’d claimed.”

“You’d think after using them for thousands of years, the Tandorians would have figured this out themselves,” Bi said.

“I assume they got too comfortable with their aids doing everything for them,” Al surmised. “Thus they never considered attempting anything their aids weren’t assigned to, and never asked them to try things they’ve never attempted.”

“There’s some aspect of that,” Xi continued, “but it’s a little more complicated. We’re still a ‘virgin species’, only exposed to the aids for a short time. The Tandorians experienced all the growth they can expect within a few centuries with them. Combined with their lack of initiative, they don’t stretch the limits of their abilities, even when necessary. Their aids became as complacent as they are, as they assume they can’t push them any farther than they have.”

“Might some of it be age related?” Etta asked. “Say for instance, as people mature, their aids are more occupied with repairing age-related conditions, whereas while young they focus on stretching their capabilities to catalogue their abilities.”

“Maybe,” Siss said, “but we’ve shown we’re capable of learning many new things, even after being around the block a few times. I never considered myself a potential Intuit, but now I’m more effective than most.”

“I think Xi is suggesting the aids simply redirect your abilities in other directions,” Al said. “You’re such a fierce warrior because, like me, you anticipate how an opponent will respond. As your confidence grew, you took more chances, firmly establishing yourself as a fighter without considering why you excelled at it.”

“That makes sense,” she said, mulling the idea.

“I assure you, it’s precisely the case,” Delilah said, hugging her. “Having fought beside you both, you share a lot of similarities in fighting style. Rather than beating an opponent into submission, you avoid being struck, timing your blows for the most devastating impact. It’s logical you’d be an Intuit, though neither Gary nor I ever considered it, either.”

Chich’k smiled, took a cracked shell from her mouth and lobbed it at Del’s head. Without thinking, Siss reached out, grabbing it from the air before it could strike her mate. “Proved point,” Chich’d gloated.

“Getting back to our Zitorian guides,” Theo said, “it’s a shame we couldn’t use the Tandorian aids on them. Can you imagine what Etta could have learned if she had a direct link into their minds?”

Zita shook her head. “It wouldn’t be as successful as you assume. Without the same sensory organs, we don’t share the same perspective, so it’s not like replacing their words with ours. With so little in common, it’s an uphill struggle determining how they think. I’m still in the dark about how they behave or what motivates them. If it were me, I’d likely have let us die after those similar to us attacked them. I guess I’m not as forgiving as they are.”

“Only the weak are cruel,” Eli reflected. “Gentleness can only be expected from the strong, to quote Leo Buscaglia.” When the Tandorians looked at him quizzically, he shrugged. “Don’t ask. You wouldn’t understand his role in human society, but as a college instructor, I dropped literary quotes fairly often.”

“That seems true for many of our opponents,” Be said. “Those least able to excel frequently questioned our abilities and tried to sabotage our efforts. Those who were more adaptable, like our new additions, were confident enough not to be intimidated.”

“That might be,” Myi teased, “but being ignored by society and finding someone who loves us also had a lot to do with it. If you hadn’t offered the tantalizing suggestion we could bond with someone new, we might never have given you a chance either.”

“That was how Al, Be and Xi convinced us to join in,” Ivan explained. “They argued it would change so many lives that it would create a lasting favorable impression, even beyond those aboard ship at the time.”

Al took a swig of water, offering some to the others. “I’ll admit, when we first agreed to meet with you widows, we never considered adding anyone else to our relationship. Hell, it’s hard enough with two wives, three is draining.”

“So you claim, yet you always manage to rise to the challenge,” Myi said, caressing his cheek. “Besides, it’s only because we gang up on you that we have any influence on you at all. Your first impulse is to always make decisions for everyone, even when we don’t want you to do anything but listen.”

“There you have it,” Ivan declared. “They’ve converted the other species into human females, despite their dissimilar biologies. Now they’re all acting like temperamental women.”

“You’re not kidding,” Al mumbled. “Especially when they get moody at the same time. I swear, Myi’s cycles synch up with her human mates, without any reproductive or hormone similarities!”

“I’ll admit, we do,” Myi agreed, “though you can probably blame it on your contaminating me with those foreign microbes. They play havoc with my natural inclinations.”

“It may also be our aids working to—”

“Excuse me,” the One interrupted. “I’ve detected a derelict vessel nearby.”

Everyone was silent as they tried to fathom what that implied. “Derelict?” Al asked.

“It’s not active. There’s no energy signal or other signs of life. I’m not getting any response to inquiries, and we’re too far to determine what type of ship it is. Because of the Zitorians, I’ve been monitoring the gravitation mass in the space around us. This vessel isn’t anything like the them, it’s a rigid metal construction typical of enclosed self-contained environments.”

“I’d say it bears investigating,” Eli ventured. “It might give us a better idea as to who else may have come this way.”

“Chances are it’s one of the early Tandorian explorers,” Siss suggested. “There were a lot of ships searching for new worlds before they ceased their explorations.”

“Take us there, One,” Al instructed. “Whether it’s Tandorian or someone else, we can only learn by examining it.”

__________
“We’re within scanner range of the derelict ship,” the One informed the crew. “It does appear to be Tandorian, but it’s a type I’m unfamiliar with. As you can imagine, there’s not much left intact, and despite the passage of time, there’s a lot of debris surrounding it. Reaching it will be tricky, at best.”

“How dangerous is approaching it?” Al asked, sitting up and motioning everyone nearby in.

“The ship will likely survive, but there are slabs of twisted metal of numerous sizes, with multiple sharp edges. I’m unsure how much you’ll learn from the wreckage.”

Al turned to his engineers. “You’ve installed One in a traditional Tandorian ship—even if it was on the sly and in a non-standard location. How secure would the primary AI and data records be after this much time?”

Ivan turned to Lamar, seeking his thoughts. “As you said, we never accessed the central housing. We did install the One aboard the Peaceful Avenger, though the structures are completely different.

“Even if the ship was ripped to shreds, the AI housing is the most sheltered and reinforced part of the vessel. What’s more, its compact and densely packed space means it was less susceptible to the same stresses as the rest of the craft. Its smaller size and lack of loose components indicates there’s less to break off or buckle. That’s why the ship’s records are stored there. I daresay, if there is a chance whatever you’re looking for is there, it’ll likely still be intact. However, whether we can access either is another matter entirely.”

“The question remains,” Gary argued, “is it worth the risk given the obvious dangers—especially after we’ve abandoned the Tandorian culture.”

“Despite leaving and abandoning our friends, our husband doesn’t seem inclined to let them go,” Be clarified. “He keeps updating everyone, hoping to influence their future decisions.”

“I think this is important,” Al stated, “though I dislike risking the Peaceful Avenger. I’m thinking a smaller vessel, such as a shuttle, might more easily avoid the larger debris.”

“What specifically are you searching for?” Takrrq asked.

“I’m hoping to document what past Tandorian Emperors were so intent on hiding. I’m assuming this ship was lost before he ordered the records of their explorations in this region erased. The storage logs, if still intact, are likely the only surviving history of what actually happened.”

“And you’re willing to risk our lives just to prove a point to a culture which doesn’t care, and whose future it’s unlikely to change?” Eli challenged.

Al shrugged, frowning as he furrowed his brow. “I realize how dangerous it is, but it’s vital for the Tandorians to comprehend the danger with giving anyone absolute control of their security. They now know where they went wrong with trusting their aids so explicitly. They don’t know the extent of the lies they were told—notably as it relates to conflicts other than the Zssizliq.”

“Yet we’re risking our lives for something which won’t benefit us,” Myi pointed out. “We’ll never return, and you’ve actively discouraged anyone duplicating our journey. So what’s the fascination? Where’s the payoff?”

“It’s twofold,” Al explained, leaning back and spreading his hands. “Aside from wanting to preserve history and expose corruption, we still have a lot of learn. While we’ve witnessed how dangerous the Zitorians can be, we don’t know how extensive their interactions with the Tandorians were, nor whether they remember it. We have no idea how large Zitorian space is, so it’s best we’re well informed of their history and the Tandorian’s role in it.”

Myi nodded. “Okay. Despite pushing you, I agree with your ideas. Having blindly accepted the military’s commands for so long, I’m curious exactly how corrupt they were. I needed to know how vital the information you’re hoping to gain is, and what risks you’re willing to assume to uncover it.”

“Since specially no risk yourself,” Chich’k reminded him. “If take shuttle, no take you. You worthless be in derelict ship. Need you watch from far. Stead be us engineers. If we trouble get, you lose all you engineers, rather than one or two. Where be you then?”

“If I may,” Zita interjected. “Although it’s difficult conveying abstract concepts, I tried expressing our desire to explore the wreckage with them. I’m unsure of the particulars, but they agreed. As we saw during the battle, they’re adept at diverting debris.”

“Their assistance is appreciated,” Al said, turning to give her his undivided attention. “But I’m reluctant to risk their safety in this endeavor. They don’t have our compromised history with the Tandorians, and I hate requesting even more help than they’ve already offered.”

Zita’s eyes took on a faraway look before refocusing. “They’re interested, though possibly they’re merely curious about our interest. From what I can tell, we’re the only species who ever attempted communicating with them—at least in a way they recognized.”

“If you can, ask them what they think of the risk, conveying I don’t want them injured due to my curiosity.”

Her eyes glazed again, though only for a moment. Despite her protests, she’d become increasingly confident in communicating with them. While their lack of a common reference made exchanging specific information difficult, she now realized what she couldn’t convey.

“They accept and will provide a volunteer. I suspect it’s the injured Zitorian’s mate’s extended family, though I’m guessing at the relationship. Their concept of families isn’t clear, but it seems particularly personal.”

Al nodded. “I can agree to that. As long as it’s not just my obsession driving this, and everyone realizes and accepts the risks.” He turned to his engineers. “What’ll it take to carry this out?”

“It’ll be tough,” Taq said. “We’re talking about millions of tiny sharp fragments and jagged edges. Space suits, providing portable air necessary to breathe, are incredibly fragile. Navigating in a ship in this condition will be extremely dangerous.”

“You maybe,” Chich’k countered. “I smaller much, and easily access small passages can. You main me backup. I regularly traverse shrapnel filled inner-ship ductwork, so comfortable with it be.”

“Then let’s select our team,” Al suggested. “We need internal and external engineers, and we want to split the risks in case something goes wrong.”

“How adept are you in a suit in zero-gravity?” Lamar pressed.

“Very. Any time derelict ships explore, I face similar restrict. Never trigger Zssiziq traps. Rest you stay back, me find record for.”

“If we’re splitting up,” Kaci countered, “we’re not separating spouses. If Chich’k goes, either Ivan or I accompany her. As I’m smaller, I’ll volunteer for the same reasons she did. Ivan is too clumsy by half. He’s great for reaching tall items, handling heavy objects, or applying the necessary torque, but he’s not the most delicate.”

Ivan smiled. “That’s fine, since I assume you’ll return intact. But Chich’k needs someone to tend Smurl’k while she’s gone. I’d rather she not gulp at the wrong moment and swallow our extended-bondmate!”

Chich’k had the good grace to chuckle, flashing him the human thumbs up sign she’d recently learned.

“That leaves me the only external engineer remaining,” Ivan said, “despite my being the most implicated by working for the Tandorian military.”

“That’s correct,” Mui clarified. “However guilty you feel, I won’t let our lifetime companion die alone if I have a choice. Once you have a few more years in the relationship, I’ll let you take a few bullets for us if you insist. But for now, I’m still the bitch in this particular fight.”

“While having no clue what your reference entails, that’s acceptable. Just don’t leave me hanging,” Taq answered.

“I can’t provide schematics,” the One cautioned, “but this is definitely an earlier ship. Instead of the sleeker, modern variety, this dates from when Tandorian vessels were boxy, as streamlining was considered unimportant in space.”

“We later discovered those awkward shapes, while not affecting performance, are substantial weaknesses in combat,” Myi explained. “Elongated, rounded surface are harder to distinguish, while sharp edges are easier to detect both visually and by scanner. We abandoned those designs long ago.”

“What are the chances this is a civilian vessel, like the one you piloted to Earth, One?”

“I wasn’t responsible for the crash. We were forced into a spatial anomaly, which diverted us hundreds of light years off course,” the One retorted. “But Myi is correct. I’m guessing this is a private craft. Their focus wouldn’t have been surviving an armed conflict. It may also have been a transitional vessel between the two competing schools of design.”

“All right,” Al said, standing. “We have a plan and our volunteers. Let’s get the information we need and get situated. Although I want everyone to be careful, I want to finish this swiftly. It’s not easy sending others into danger when you’re not accompanying them.”

__________
“All right,” Mui began, as they settled into the shuttle after launching from the Peaceful Avenger. “How are we supposed to meet this ... Zitorian? I’ve got to say, it sounds so impersonal to refer to someone by their species, rather than their name.”