Juxtapositions
©2020 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  steamfox


Notification that the lander was returning to Tempest appeared on Mari Athenry’s padd, and the kangaroo tapped the message to acknowledge it. That tiny task accomplished, the flyer continued to pace around the Tau Beta’s bridge. A lot depended on what the Committee was discussing in the old liner’s conference room, and her options could widen or narrow based on their decision.

The CDT had responded to Tempest as a result of a call for assistance. CDT Policy Order One was explicit on this point: if the leaders or government decided that that her team was unwelcome, there would be nothing for it but to pack everything up, recall the survey teams from the surface, and the Expedient would break orbit and return to Moncayo.

She really hoped they wouldn’t.

Movement out the bridge windows caught her eye and she saw the lander descending, this time closer to the derelict starship’s bulk. At the same moment, the door to the conference room opened, and Security asked, “Athenry-san? Could you and your party come in, please?”

“Thank you, sir,” and she and the rest of the CDT team came in and sat down. There was a short silence, with a few of the Committee members looking uncomfortable.

Finally the Conducator said, “Athenry-san, the Committee apologizes for the interruption.” The elderly buck cleared his throat and added, “It was a matter of internal politics. No concern of yours.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Your presentation on the situation Outside is . . . disturbing, but as you say we are well away from any fighting. Could you contact your people and ask them if they’ve seen the Member for Technology, Tsien-san? His absence here has been noted.”

“I believe he’s returned, sir,” the doe replied, and the deer’s ears swiveled.

“’Returned?’”

Security spoke up. “With respect, Conducator, the Member went to the ship in orbit, with the Sergeant-at-Arms.”

“WHAT!?”


***


As soon as the lander lowered its ramp, Tsien disembarked, intent on gathering a few furs to help him observe and take notes. Matvei followed behind him, his hooves sinking into familiar beach sand before he dropped to one knee and ran a paw through the dirt. The young buck had never felt so connected to the world he’d been born on.

Until he’d had the opportunity to leave it.

He scrambled to his hooves and moved out of the way as Pima, Akiko and a few other furs came out of the craft, three of them shepherding a large cube, two meters on a side that floated a paw’s width from the ground. “Excuse us, Matvei,” Pima said, the goat gesturing at the cube as he added, “this thing weighs a lot.”

“It’s floating.”

Pima chuckled. “That’s true, but its mass – “

“Means that its inertia’s still there.” The goat blinked and Matvei said, “We’re taught some basic things in school.”

“I see. Well, can you show us the fastest way to get this to the computer center? We don’t want to put too much strain on the pellator if we can avoid it.”

Matvei nodded. “Follow me,” he said, getting his confidence back after the shocks and the wonders he’d seen in orbit. He knew the way, as well, although the team had some difficulty navigating a two-meter cube through sometimes narrow passageways.

They finally shut down and disengaged the artigrav, the cube positioned next to the computer core’s primary connection to the Tau Beta’s defunct reactors. Pima took out his padd and contacted Akiko, now on the bridge with Tsien. “Akiko, we’re ready down here. Generator’s connected to the grid.”

“Got it. According to Tsien-san, the computer was powered down before the reactors were safed out, so powering up shouldn’t be an issue. I have the startup sequence for the core downloaded, so activate the generator, please.”

“Right.” The goat opened a panel in the side of the cube and flipped two switches. Two lights glowed red, then amber, and finally green; he then lifted a safety cover and flipped a third switch, eliciting a deep and rather pleasant hum from the generator. “We have power.”

“Okay. Get into the core and start feeding power into the structure. Here’s the sequence,” and the data appeared on Pima’s padd.

Three decks above, Tsien stood facing the interface screen, wringing his paws nervously. “Relax, please, sir,” Akiko said. Her padd pinged, “Yes, Pima?”

“Diagnostics running now. So far, everything’s nominal.”

“’Nominal?’” one of the Tempesters with Tsien asked.

The feline said, “That means that things are fine, Tori.” He glanced at the CDT husky. “Is it ready?”

Akiko looked nervous as well, but grinned widely. “At your discretion, Tsien-san.”

The bridge panels had been dusted and cleaned, so there was nothing to obscure a small square touch-pad labeled MODE STANDBY which began to glow yellow. Several of the natives gasped, and Tsien reached out a shaking paw.

His index finger pressed against the button, which promptly blinked green and vanished.


***


“The only one?” Dara asked, and the otter shook his head sadly. “That’s tragic. Not being able to have a family or children.”

The canine headwoman nodded, but raised a paw. “He didn’t have children of his own, but thought of the children he taught as his offspring.” She smiled wistfully. “Me included. Dzhan was a very kind and gentle fellow. I recall someone asking him whether he missed his life before Planetfall, and he would just smile and say that he preferred his life now.”

“May I say something?” Kal said from Dara’s padd. The headwoman nodded, and the ferret said, “Krazny-jih was a thinker who believed that too much technology – too many machines and devices – deprived us of something essential to us.”

“Our souls,” one older teen interjected.

“In a sense, yes. He must have seen being stranded here on Tempest as a Deus-sent opportunity.”

The canine femme put a paw to her chin. “That is so. When the Captain set up the Committee and gave us the Standing Orders, Dzhan said that it would never work.”

“Why?” Dara asked.

“Because we were so few. He believed that once we were free of our addiction to technology, we would be much happier.” She was interrupted by a feline who came trotting up through the crowd to whisper in her ear. Dara waited as she nodded to the man and said, “The Member for Fisheries, Sanjaz-san, is coming. You will have to speak to him.”

“I look forward to i – “

“What is this?!” he heard someone snarl, and a stone smacked his padd, knocking it over.

Kal said, “Hey! That wasn’t nice.”

Daran turned and looked up to see a rangy feline glaring down at him.


***


“Don’t you recall, Conducator?” the wolfhound asked.

“’Recall?’ Recall what?”

Security smiled tolerantly. “Before we had the vote, Technology said that the CDT team wanted to fetch generators and restart the computer. He wanted to go with them to observe, and you agreed.”

“So that’s where he went,” Calibanescu grumbled. “Fine thing, to do that when I’m distracted – “

“And you agreed with him that the Sergeant-at-Arms go with him, to make sure he’s safe.” Security smiled again as a few other Members suppressed chuckles. “I thought it was an eminently sensible suggestion, Conducator.”

“You would,” the old buck grumbled. “I’ll have to deal with both of them later.” He glared at Security. “Personally.” He paused for a few moments to collect himself and looked at Athenry. “Will you be able to help us, Athenry-jih?”

The kangaroo smiled and nodded. “Of course, Conducator.”


***


For a second, then another, there was silence. The screen abruptly flickered, causing more than one of the natives to jump, and one or two felines’ tail bottled.

A rasping sound was heard, followed by a low, growling male voice. “Startup cycle . . . commencing . . . Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni . . . bong . . . ni . . . it has been one point eight six billion seconds since last operation . . . Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do . . . “

“Is it supposed to do that?” Tsien asked.

Akiko looked at her padd. “Not supposed to take this long, but yes.”

“The quick brown fox . . . dialectic . . . processor blocks A9 through K17 online . . . “ The screen flickered again, and a face, indistinct at first, began to appear. It resolved itself as a generic canine face with feminine features and collar-length sandy blonde hair. “Hello, everybody! Happy Birthday!” The voice was female, a somewhat sultry contralto.

The husky waved Tsien forward. “You’re part of the government,” Akiko said. “Say hello.”

“Um, hello, HOLLI,” Tsien said carefully.

The simulacrum beamed. “Hello! Who are you?”

“Tsien, Member of the Committee for Technology.”

“Where’s Captain bar-Suleiman?”

The feline looked uncomfortable. “The Captain died . . . soon after you were deactivated. It was believed that his heart was broken. You’ve been silent for fifty-nine years.”

The face on the monitor went through a variety of emotions, finally looking thoughtful. “I wanted to tell him that I’d been to Paradise, but I’d never been to me,” she said. “Fifty-nine years . . . no wonder there are large parts of the ship that I can’t see or touch.” She seemed to focus on Tsien. “Is there something wrong, Member Tsien?”

“Well, um, it’s just that all the records we have say that you . . . well, you’re supposed to be male.”

That elicited a contemptuous sniff from the interface. “I’m non-binary,” she said.


***


“Sanjaz-san, is it?” Dara asked. “I’m honored to – “

“Shut up, outworlder.” He twisted the word into an insult, and put a paw on the knife at his hip.

“I can’t see, Dara; are you okay?” Kal asked through the cyberlink.

“So far, but you might want to have that extraction team on standby,” the otter said.

He could almost hear sudden strain in the ferret’s voice. “Got it.”

Sanjaz’s tail flicked sand onto the padd, and Kal said aloud, “Excuse me! That’s not very good manners.”

The feline had been about to say something to the headwoman; instead he half-turned toward Dara and growled, ”Silence that fell machine or I’ll smash it to fragments.”

That’d be a sight to see, Dara thought as he reached out a paw and dragged the padd to him. The units used by CDT surveyors were designed to resist impacts from projectiles up to 148 megapascals, and he seriously doubted that the feline could muster enough strength. Still, he was a guest, so he depolarized the padd and shook the sand off it before folding it up.

Sanjaz turned back to the canine femme, who hadn’t stirred from her seat. “What is this I’ve heard?” he said. “Allowing this outworlder to bring his machines onto your grounds,” and he spotted the still-open reliquary, “and you let him see the Great Book?”

The femme looked unimpressed at his actions. “He is here by my sufferance, because these are my clan’s lands, Sanjaz, and not yours. And if he wants to learn, I say let him stay and learn.” She gestured at the cooking fires. “He’s shown that there are some good uses for technology, at least.”

She grinned toothily. “You look hungry; here, have some fish.” The grin widened. “He showed us where to catch them.”