Sticks and Stones E-Book

Robert Jeschonek

• Herausgeber: Pie Press
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Once upon a galaxy, a spaced-out writer launched a novel exploring a starry saga set in a universe much like a certain trek we know and love. Here, for the first time, you can experience this voyage into trekkerness. The names are new, but you might recognize the drama and excitement of an epic encounter aboard the star cruiser Exogenesis as it pioneers humanity's journey to greatness among the stars. In this adventure, first contact with the multilingual Vox species goes horribly wrong when the crew's linguist mistakenly uses a forbidden slur. Drawn into a violent revolution, a “war of words” to decide language dominance, the crew of the Exogenesis races against time to convince the aliens to unite against a greater threat: an unstoppable invasion fleet roaring toward planet Vox from deep space. When revolution and invasion collide, it is up to Captain Joshua Swift and the Exogenesis crew to save the world by revealing the secret behind the slur that started it all…the dark secret linking Vox and invaders in an ancient cycle of slavery, suffering, lies, and death. Don't miss this exciting lost novel by award-winning Star Trek author Robert Jeschonek, a master of unique and unexpected science fiction that really packs a punch.

Leseprobe

STICKS AND STONES

A TREK NOVEL

ROBERT JESCHONEK

CONTENTS

Also by Robert Jeschonek

I. Vox

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

II. Mazeesh

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

III. Mariko

Chapter Thirty-Eight

About the Author

Special Preview! - Vendetta

STICKS AND STONES

Copyright © 2023 by Robert Jeschonek

http://bobscribe.com/

Cover Art Copyright © 2023 by Ben Baldwin

www.benbaldwin.co.uk

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved by the author.

Published by Blastoff Books

An Imprint of Pie Press

411 Chancellor Street

Johnstown, Pennsylvania 15904

www.piepresspublishing.com/

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Created with Vellum

ALSO BY ROBERT JESCHONEK

A Grain from a Balance: A Trek Screenplay

Trek Fail

Trek This

Trek You

Vendetta: A Trek Screenplay

PARTONE

VOX

CHAPTER ONE

Captain Joshua Swift asked Commander J'Tull to repeat what she had just said.

J'Tull complied, speaking in the same cool monotone that she had used the first time. "Each ship in the fleet is fifty times the size of the Exogenesis."

Standing before his command chair on the Exogenesis bridge, Swift shook his head in amazement. Even displayed on the viewer against a backdrop of stars, with no frame of reference to allow a true gauge of their size, the ships looked massive and imposing.

And there were a hundred of them.

"Weapons?" said Swift, unable to tear his gaze from the screen.

"Plasma cannons," said Lieutenant Martin Simon, the ship's tactical officer. "Phased energy emitters. Electromagnetic pulse generators. Matter/anti-matter missiles."

"That's a lot of firepower," said Swift. "Let's stay on their good side."

J'Tull looked up from the scope that extended from the console at her station. "Perhaps it would be best to avoid all their sides," she said. "We have no record of vessels of this design or of the species that built them. We have no knowledge of their intentions. What we do know is that they exceed our ship in numbers, size, and firepower."

"Which is why we should be cautious," said Swift. "But as you say, we have no record of these people. We can't ignore a first contact situation."

"Sometimes," J'Tull said flatly, "the best first contact is no first contact."

Swift sighed. He knew that his first officer was right, but he wasn't sure that he could pass up this opportunity. Attempting contact could be a dangerous choice, even a fatal one…or the first step in a new and rewarding relationship with an alien species.

So far, in spite of their heavy armaments, the alien ships had revealed no hostile intentions. After coming upon them on the way to survey a nebula, Exogenesis had followed them for over an hour without getting a reaction. With the comparatively tiny star cruiser trailing behind it, the fleet had just kept plowing forward at a speed of Grav 2, also known as G2 (as measured on Astrofleet's gravity drive scale) seemingly focused entirely on its own mysterious purpose.

Whatever that purpose might be, Swift doubted that it was benevolent. He could not ignore the destructive power displayed so conspicuously on what almost certainly were ships of war.

So yet again, the dice were in his hands. Play it safe, or gamble his ship and the lives of the 83 crewmen onboard.

He made up his mind, then gave himself an extra moment to change it.

He didn't change it.

"Ensign Bellweather," he said. "Bring us closer. Mariko, open hailing frequencies."

Swift thought that he could feel J'Tull's disapproving gaze boring into his back, and he turned. Her eyes were fixed rigidly on a console, but he had the distinct impression that she'd just flicked them there an instant ago.

He turned back to the fleet of ships on the viewer. "Martin," he said calmly. "Do not power up weapons, but be ready for anything."

"Aye, Captain," said Simon. His voice was taut, his attention fully focused on his duty, as always.

"You, too, Tanner," Swift told his helmsman. "We may need to put those engines through their paces."

Ensign Tanner Bellweather played the controls on the helm console before him. "Aye, sir," he said.

Swift nodded, assured that his well-oiled machine of a bridge crew was ready for whatever would come next. He looked around at them, noting proudly how far they'd come since Exogenesis had first left Earth orbit.

It was funny how daily close calls could take the wet right out from behind your ears.

"No response to hails, Captain," said Mariko.

"Keep trying," said Swift.

A minute ticked past, followed by another. The giant golden ships on the viewer continued their implacable progress, ignoring the buzzing pest in their wake.

"Mariko?" Swift spoke without diverting his eyes from the screen.

"Nothing," said the communications officer.

Swift narrowed his eyes and wondered if he should cut bait. It was looking more and more likely that the aliens wanted to be left alone.

Turning toward J'Tull, he caught her gaze. The Hephaestan's impassive eyes revealed nothing of her thoughts, but Swift was sure that he knew her opinion of the situation.

"Bring us closer," he told Tanner, keeping his eyes locked with J'Tull's for another beat before turning away.

The ships on the viewer grew larger as Exogenesis approached, revealing more detail on the cannons and turrets bristling their hulls. Swift watched for the slightest motion, the faintest hint of aggression, acutely aware that his ship was hopelessly outmatched and outnumbered.

"Anything, Mariko?" he said.

"Still no response." Though the tension in her voice was a notch higher than the overall stress level on the bridge, Swift was satisfied with her composure. In some ways, she was still the least well-adjusted to the rigors of their voyage, but the difference between her demeanor now and at the start of the trip was like the difference between night and day.

"Steady as she goes, Tanner," said Swift…and then something changed.

Nothing on the viewer gave it away. The image of the golden warships, glittering with starlight, could have been a painting, unchanged from one moment to the next.

Somehow, though, before the first shout from Martin, Swift had a feeling that he'd pressed his luck too far. He opened his mouth to tell Tanner to back off.

Before he could get a word out, Martin raised the alarm.

"Incoming!" said the tactical officer. "One of the ships is firing a plasma beam in our direction!"

"Hard about!" Swift ordered his helmsman. "All hands, brace for impact!"

A bright flare surged on the viewer, racing toward them like a comet…then streaking away as the Exogenesis spun around to reverse course. Swift half-fell into his command chair, gripping the armrests as the ship's gravity generators strained to compensate for the sudden change in direction.

"They missed," said Martin. "But I'm quite sure they meant to."

The stars on the screen stopped spinning. "A shot across our bow," said Swift. "There's that hello we were waiting for."

"The universal language," said Martin.

"We are fortunate that they were not in a more talkative mood," said J'Tull.

"Turn us about and hold position," said Swift, leaning forward in the command chair. Onscreen, the stars slid around again and the fleet reappeared, shrinking as it moved away.

Swift rubbed his chin thoughtfully, watching the giant ships recede. "Where are they headed?"

"Barring any course changes, one inhabited world lies directly in their path," said J'Tull. "If they continue at their present speed, they will reach Vox in just over

twenty-four hours."

"What do we know about Vox?" said Swift.

"Two point five billion inhabitants," said J'Tull. "A civilization on the cusp of developing gravity drive technology."

"By any chance," said Swift, "do they happen to have defenses capable of repelling an invasion fleet?"

"They do not," said J'Tull.

"Well then," said Swift, rising from the command chair. "I guess we'll be paying them a visit."

Expecting an argument, he turned to J'Tull, but she said nothing. She didn't have to; when it came to guessing her opinion on risky plans, Swift was a mind reader.

"What's the current speed of the fleet?" said Swift.

"G2, Captain," said Martin.

"At any time since we've been following them," said Swift, "have they gone faster than G2?"

"No sir," said Martin.

"Good," said Swift. "If that's their best speed, we can get to Vox before they do."

"And when we get there?" said J'Tull. "What then?"

"Like Paul Revere," said Swift. "We offer a warning and ride out of town. 'The British are coming.'"

J'Tull stiffened. Swift thought that if she stiffened any more, she would snap. "And what do you hope to accomplish with this warning?" she said. "Incite a global panic? Throw the planet into chaos before the fleet arrives?"

Swift sighed and shook his head. "Honestly," he said, "I don't know."

"It is illogical to take an action if…"

Swift cut her off. "If that was Earth out there," he said, "and I was on it, I'd want somebody to warn me."

J'Tull fell silent but did not relax her rigid posture.

"All right then." Swift clapped his hands together, signaling that the matter was no longer open for debate. "How long will it take us to reach Vox at G5 speed?"

There was no delay in Tanner's response, so Swift knew that he'd been running the numbers before the question was asked. "A little over twelve hours, Captain."

Swift nodded. "Plot a course to Vox, Ensign. And give those ships out there a wide berth."

"Aye, sir," said Tanner. Swift noted that the helmsman didn't touch a control, meaning that he'd already plotted the new course. As always, Tanner was a step ahead, thanks to a lifetime of piloting experience; having grown up on a deep space freighter, he'd been driving spacecraft since about the time he was in diapers.

Swift keyed the communications panel on the arm of his chair, opening a channel to Engineering. "Zeke?" he said, calling for his chief engineer and good friend.

Zeke's Southern accent filtered from the speaker. "Here, Cap'n!" He was shouting, so he must not have been near a comm panel.

"We need G5 for the next twelve hours," said Swift. "Any problem with that?"

"Not at this time," shouted Zeke through the speaker. "Thanks for the heads-up."

Swift switched off the comm panel and lowered himself into the command chair. Leaning his elbows on his knees, he folded his hands and stared at the ships on the viewer, distant flecks of gold drifting into the glittering starfield.

On the verge of throwing caution to the wind for the umpteenth time, he hesitated. Putting his ship between an invasion fleet and its target might just be the most foolhardy action he'd taken yet…which was saying a lot. Still, he could not dismiss his rationale for getting involved: if that was Earth out there, and he was on it, he would want to know what was coming.

"Okay, Tanner," he said finally. "Let's go to Vox. And don't spare the horses."

Tanner touched a button and Exogenesis leaped forward.

CHAPTER TWO

Ensign Mariko Nakamura had had this nightmare before.

She was on the surface of an alien world with her captain and crewmates. They all turned to her for help, for understanding. Lives depended on her making sense of an alien language that she had never heard before, which should not have been a big deal, because alien linguistics was her specialty…

…but she found herself drowning in a sea of gibberish.

A tide of babble washed over her, a wave of seemingly disconnected sounds from a mob of creatures. Billions of phonemes, the smallest units of language, crashed together, mixing with millions of clicks and lip-smacks that could themselves be part of a language or just random biological noise.

The tide swelled and swirled and Mariko felt herself going under. Again and again, she grabbed at the current but could never make sense of it.

The display on the multiterpreter that she carried--a device capable of translating alien languages into understandable onscreen text--blinked with indecipherable nonsense.

She had had this nightmare before. The only problem was, this time, she was wide awake.

The fact that she had experienced this moment, or one very much like it, so many times before in her dreams, made her panic build more swiftly than it might otherwise have done. The fact that it tapped so directly into her innermost fears lent the scene a power and malevolence that were larger than life.

Her heart raced. She looked around at the crowd of beings who surrounded her, sleek-furred and slender like otters, and a chill shot down her spine.

Then, she felt Captain Swift touch her arm.

"Mariko?" he said softly, his voice laden with concern.

She took a deep breath and gathered herself up. Enough of this.

She was not having a nightmare. She was on the surface of the planet Vox with Captain Swift, Commander J'Tull, and Commander Turner. It was up to her to warn the inhabitants about the approaching invasion fleet.

It was time to start acting like a professional.

Nodding to Captain Swift, she took another deep breath and turned to the crowd.

"Quiet!" she shouted, as loud as she could, her voice rising over the tumult.

She got her message across. Suddenly, the chaos of noise and chatter subsided. The gleaming black pearl eyes of the dozens of Vox in the city square all slid around to focus on her.

Mariko cleared her throat and took a step forward, fixing her attention on a single brown-furred being. She had to look up to meet the alien's gaze; like all Vox, he (she guessed it was a male because it was bulkier and had a deeper voice than others in the crowd) towered a full head higher than the tallest member of the Exogenesis away team…which came out to a head and a half taller than Mariko.

"Hi," said Mariko, mustering a smile.

The brown-furred Vox rattled off a stream of incomprehensible syllables, at the same time gesturing at a furious pace and click-smacking up a storm.

For a moment, Mariko listened and watched the Vox's four-clawed hands flutter and weave. Then, she closed her eyes, blocking out the movement and letting the flurry of sounds rush through her.

Pared down from dozens of voices to one, reduced further from sound and motion to sound alone, the communication seemed less overwhelmingly chaotic. As she absorbed it, Mariko realized that it could be simplified even further.

Opening her eyes, she interrupted the Vox by raising both hands, palms flattened toward him. "Only this," she said slowly, pointing to her lips.

Then, pronouncing each letter with slowness and clarity, she recited the English alphabet. She hoped that the Vox would get the idea: she wanted to hear pulmonic sounds only, those created with an air stream from the lungs…sounds like the vowels and consonants of the alphabet. All the clicking and smacking was getting in the way.

When she was done, she raised her hands toward the Vox, palms up, indicating that it was his turn.

Message received. This time, the Vox's speech was slower and free of clicks and smacks. Finally, Mariko could pick out distinct syllables arranged in patterns.

She had isolated a spoken language, one using pulmonic vowels and consonants, not hand signs or clicks or smacks…and therefore easiest for the multiterpreter to process.

Not that the hand signs, clicks and smacks weren't part of a language themselves. Mariko was sure that they were, which had been the problem. The pulmonic syllables formed one language. The clicks and smacks comprised a second language. A third language consisted of hand signs.

The Vox had three different languages, and they used them all at once. They carried on three conversations at the same time, or one conversation with three levels.

No wonder Mariko and the translator device had been stumped. Neither was wired to process so much simultaneous, multilingual input.

As the Vox spoke, Mariko's translator took in everything, identifying repeated patterns and relationships between sounds…comparing them to language models in its database…constructing a rudimentary vocabulary and a framework of syntax on which to hang it.

Before long, the chicken scratch on the translator's display became readable output – lines of text representing the alien's words, printed phonetically, laid out alongside an English translation of those words.

At about the same time that the translator kicked in, Mariko started to put it together herself. Her heart beat fast, this time with the familiar thrill of making sense of what had once seemed an indecipherable puzzle.

Listening and studying the translator display for a few moments more, she collected her thoughts. Touching keys on the device, she accessed the newly created vocabulary database for the Vox tongue, clarifying the choice of words that she would use.

Then, she interrupted the brown-furred creature (who seemed willing and able to carry on an endless monologue) and rattled off a sentence.

The Vox reared back, the whiskers on his stubby snout twitching. He gestured excitedly, then caught himself and clasped his hands together to stop the movement. Again speaking slowly, without the static of clicks and smacks, he released a few clear words; then he waved, beckoning for Mariko and the others to follow him. The assembled crowd parted just enough to make way.

Mariko turned to Captain Swift and the others and repeated the Vox's gesture, waving for them to follow. "Come on," she said. "I think we're finally getting somewhere."

"What did you say to him?" said Captain Swift.

"'Take us to your leader,'" Mariko said with a little smile.

CHAPTER THREE

As Mariko and the rest of the away team followed their guide through the Vox city, she again felt chills run down her spine…but this time, the chills were inspired by awe, not fear. Though she had seen the wonders of Earth and some amazing sights on alien worlds, she had never in her life seen anything as beautiful as this.

It was a see-through city made of pastel stained glass.

Towers scaled remarkable heights – some squared, some cylindrical, some spiraling into feathery clouds. Vast castles straddled block after city block, turrets shooting sky high. There were domes and cones and pyramids, spheres and cubes. All of it was connected from ground level to highest spire by a filigree of crisscrossing strands, a web of tubing laced around and over and through every structure.

And every tube, every wall, every surface was transparent and flowing with pastel color. Pale yellows and blues and reds and greens and violets swirled and rippled like the clouds on a gas giant planet, mixing and pulsing…but never obscuring the perfect view of what lay behind them. Mariko could see right into every room and tube, could see

fur-covered citizens in motion and at rest and staring right back out at her. Even more, because the floors and ceilings and walls were all transparent, she could see through one building and into the next, could look all the way up through every level of every tower.

It was at once breathtaking and disconcerting to see such a city of people stacked to the heights and strung all around, all seemingly floating, supported only by whorls and bands and streams of color.

Mariko felt like she was floating, too, and not just because she was caught up in the spectacular surroundings. Thanks to the low gravity on Vox, she weighed only half what she did on Earth or onboard the Exogenesis. She felt airy and light on her feet, as if at any moment she could push off from the ground and rise up to glide and pirouette among the filigree and spires.

According to J'Tull, it was the light gravity that made the city possible, enabling such fragile, lofty structures to stand. The chief building material was a light polymer with electrostatic properties that produced the colorful tints. Even stretched into impossibly thin sheets, its high tensile strength supported amazing weight…but on Earth, at twice the gravity, it would have shattered under a far smaller load.

As she stepped lightly down crystalline walkways, her body lit with shifting pastel colors cast by sunbeams poured through rainbow walls, Mariko was glad that she wasn't on Earth.

Alongside her, the brown-furred Vox – whose name was Nalo – chattered away, but Mariko didn't pay much attention. Behind her, a growing mob of similarly vocal Vox generated a rising clamor, but she didn't listen.

For once, she was all eyes, not ears. The linguist was at a loss for words.

* * *

When Nalo led the away team into one of the soaring towers, Mariko gazed upward…and realized that her view was unobstructed by even the tinted, transparent walls and ceilings that honeycombed other buildings. She could see all the way from ground level to the distant pinnacle, seemingly a mile above. It was all one vast cathedral, walled in light and color, empty but for a ring of slender glassy pillars that corkscrewed into the heavenly heights.

As she peered up into the otherworldly steeple, Mariko half-expected to see a host of angels drift downward...so she was startled when she noticed that faraway figures were indeed descending from the upper reaches. At first, they were so distant that they were little more than specks, but even then, Mariko could see that they were acrobatically inclined. The five figures moved fast, zipping down the slender pillars…and amazingly, leaping from one pillar to another at high altitudes with perfect ease and grace.

As they drew closer, she realized that they were Vox, and they were climbing down headfirst, like squirrels descending the trunks of trees. They scurried downward fearlessly, skinny bodies twisting around the corkscrew pillars, making heart-stopping dives from pole to pole with no more visible effort than kids playing on monkey bars.

Mariko's shipmates were near, all craning their necks to watch the spectacle. Captain Swift whistled softly in amazement and Commander Turner muttered stunned exclamations. J'Tull said nothing, which was no surprise, but there wasn't a peep out of Nalo or the mob who had followed them into the tower, either. If even the chatterbox locals maintained a respectful silence here, Mariko supposed that the away team was indeed in the presence of some kind of leadership.

Leaping and zipping down the pillars, the five acrobatic Vox closed the distance from the pinnacle in a twinkling. As they approached, Mariko could make out their differences in coloration: two had black fur, one silver, one gold, and one red. Like all Vox, they wore no clothing, though their fur coats were daubed with colorful designs on the scalp, back, and belly – circles, spirals, triangles and starbursts in white and green and pink and black, whatever color showed up best on their coats.

The five Vox dropped further, then stopped a few yards overhead. They twined themselves around the pillars and hung there, peering down at the visitors with gleaming opal eyes.

Mariko was so dazzled by the wonders she had been witnessing, it took a moment for her to remember that she had a job to do. When Captain Swift cleared his throat, she snapped back to reality and activated the translator device.

"Mariko," said the captain. "Ask our friend here," and he indicated the

brown-furred guide, "if these are the leaders of the Vox."

Touching keys, Mariko found the words she was looking for, then turned to Nalo and repeated the question in his language. Whiskers twitching, the brown-furred

otter-like being answered, speaking slowly and without clicks and smacks for her benefit.

Mariko watched the translation on her device, though she had picked up enough of the language to get the gist of what he had said. "Nalo says that they are planetary ministers," she told the captain, "and the red one is Regent Ieria. You should speak to her."

"Anything else I should know?" said Swift, looking up at the red-furred Vox wrapped around one of the pillars before him.

"Use her title when addressing her," said Mariko after a brief exchange with Nalo. "Don't talk with your hands. I'll take care of the rest."

Swift nodded and stepped forward, turning his attention to the regent. Mariko posted herself alongside him, raising the multiterpreter so its pickups could best catch the words of the Vox leader suspended overhead.

Clasping his hands behind him, Swift spoke to the red-furred Vox. "Regent," he said. "I am Captain Joshua Swift of the Earth star cruiser Exogenesis."

Briefly consulting the multiterpreter device, Mariko repeated the captain's words in the Vox language, taking care to speak loudly and enunciate clearly enough for the leaders to hear and understand.

Swift nodded at Mariko. "This is my translator, Ensign Mariko Nakamura," he said.

Mariko told Regent Ieria what Swift had said, then smiled and bowed.

The red-furred Vox stared down at them, blinking her black pearl eyes…then fired off a storm of syllables, clicks, smacks, and gestures that baffled Mariko and the translator device alike.

Fortunately, Nalo quickly came to the rescue. Appearing at Mariko's side, he let loose a sequence of chatter, noises and hand signs of his own, directed at Regent Ieria. It must have been an explanation of Mariko's conversational limitations, for when the regent spoke again, it was without clicks, smacks, and gestures. The multiterpreter resumed normal function, displaying its conversion of the leader's speech.

"Welcome," Mariko read from the screen to Captain Swift. "What brings you to Vox?"

Swift considered his next words carefully. "A fleet of vessels is headed toward your world," he said. "Many ships, heavily armed."

Mariko translated, then delivered the regent's response. "Your ships?"

"No," said Swift. "We don't know who they are or what their intentions might be. All we can tell you is that they are headed this way."

Again, Mariko translated. She was startled when the gold-furred Vox minister flung himself onto the regent's pillar, interjecting his own streak of chatter. Apparently, the minister had caught on to the need for conversational simplicity, for his speech, though quick-fire, was free of extraneous sounds.

"The other Vox called you a liar," translated Mariko. "He says this is a distraction to hide your own dishonest intentions."

"Our only intention is to warn you," said Swift.

Mariko relayed what the captain had said, then translated the gold-furred Vox's next words. "If these ships are such a threat, and you are not their allies, why put yourselves in danger by coming here?"

"Friendship," said Captain Swift.

This time, the red-furred regent spoke. "Friendship? We are strangers."

"Unless proven otherwise," said Swift, "we consider all fellow beings to be friends."

The gold-furred minister chattered. "Including the pilots of this supposed fleet?"

"As I've told you, we don't yet know their intentions," said Swift. "However, given the size and armaments of their vessels, we believe it would be wise to take whatever precautions you can."

"Then you do not give all fellow beings the benefit of the doubt, after all," said the regent.

"Not when they answer our hails with weapons fire," said Swift.

When Mariko translated the captain's words, the Vox leaders fell silent.

"We can provide you with the coordinates of the ships," said Swift, "and the sensor data we have on them. I'm afraid it isn't much." Pausing, he looked at each of the Vox leaders in turn. "I only wish we could do more."

Casting his eyes upward, he gazed into the dazzling heights of the tower. "Your world is filled with beauty. I sincerely hope that the intentions of these visitors are as peaceful as our own."

Referring to the translator device, Mariko carefully pronounced the Vox version of what the captain had said. "Vox ilu aya sensay mazeesh. Swiftlo anzish u'i yayla oonlo sah sueta amisansu."

In days to come, she would reflect often upon those words. More than a few times, she would wish that she had never spoken them.

Here was a new moment for her nightmares:

For an instant, there was silence as the regent, ministers, and onlookers absorbed what she had said. Blithely unaware of what was coming, Mariko made an adjustment to the multiterpreter.

Then, all at once, the assembled Vox erupted into chaos.

The outcry was deafening. All around her, Vox were chattering, clicking, smacking, whistling, screaming. They gestured wildly, signing so fast and emphatically that their hands were blurs. Even the regent and her fellow leaders howled and flailed, diving from pillar to pillar in a frenzy.

The uproar swelled and cascaded in the vast chamber, echo building upon echo building upon echo with growing force. There must have been at least a hundred Vox in the tower, and every single one of them cried out at once.

Except one. Nalo stood quietly nearby, calmly meeting Mariko's terrified gaze.

For some reason, her eyes fell to the translator in her hands. Somehow, amid the tumult, it must have miraculously tuned in one voice among many, or many voices saying the same thing. Or maybe it was a malfunction.

One word flashed on the display, again and again. In years to come, it would flash in just the same way in her nightmares.

Death.

Death.

Death.

CHAPTER FOUR

As the cacophony in the tower escalated, the Exogenesis crewmen closed ranks…not entirely of their own accord. The mob of Vox pressed in around them, forcing them more tightly together, sometimes angrily shoving them into each other.

"What's going on?" shouted Swift as he fended off the clawed Vox hands that grabbed at him.

When no one answered, Mariko realized that the question was directed at her. Unfortunately, not only did she have no idea what was going on, she was too preoccupied to try to formulate a response.

The multiterpreter slid from her fingers as a snarling Vox violently shook her by the shoulders. Her feet left the floor as the creature hoisted her away from her embattled companions.

Overcoming her initial shock, Mariko thrashed and kicked, dislodging the Vox's grip. Just as she regained her footing, two more Vox dove into the fray, each latching onto one of her arms.

Mariko brought up a knee and lashed it back, landing a kick in the lower midsection of one Vox. As the stunned creature released its grip, she swung her free arm around and planted a fist in the same section of the other Vox. That Vox, too, let go of her.

Her freedom lasted only a few seconds. As her original attacker advanced alongside new friends, Mariko felt more hands grab her from behind.

Before she could react, she was yanked backward…but her alarm switched to relief when she realized that her latest abductor was Captain Swift.

Unceremoniously, Swift deposited her in the middle of the Exogenesis group, then turned…and she found herself at the center of a protective ring. Swift, Commander Turner and Sub-Commander J'Tull faced the roiling crowd, fending off any Vox who got brave enough to rush them.

"Can somebody please tell me what the hell's going on here?" said Captain Swift.

"Perhaps your first contact technique needs work," said J'Tull. "Today's results have been discouraging."

"I feel sorry for us," said Turner, "once these folks realize just how badly they've got us outnumbered."

The tide of noise in the tower surged to a head-splitting crescendo. The chatter, screams, whoops, clicks and buzzes joined together to form a single terrible sound, a chord of sustained and unmistakable rage.

Then, something new drowned out everything else: an echoing chime crashed from wall to wall and floor to pinnacle with thunderous force, as if the entire majestic tower was one enormous bell that had been rung. It was so loud, Mariko had to cover her ears; even then, she heard it clearly and felt the vibrations throughout her body.

As the piercing chime resounded through the chamber, the uproar from the crowd reached a shrill, keening peak. As one, all the disparate chattering voices united in a high-pitched, ululating wail…then subsided.

As the blaring chime faded, the strident frenzy of moments past diminished with it. Though the assembled Vox remained restless and continued to radiate hostility, their feverish intensity seemed to break for the moment.

All eyes turned to the red-furred regent, now back on her original perch but noticeably higher. Upright and clinging to the glassy, spiraled pillar, she called out to the crowd.

As the regent's words spilled into the tower, Mariko's heart pounded…not from exertion, but panic. She could feel herself and her shipmates teetering on a razor's edge of violent death; every word from the regent's mouth could be vital to their survival.

And the multiterpreter was gone. It had slipped from her hands during the chaos.

Pushing between Swift and J'Tull, she looked down…but the surrounding Vox were so thick that she could see little of the floor. If the translator was down there, she wouldn't find it without wading into the mob.

Straightening, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was time to put up or shut up, and she'd already missed some of what the regent had said.

Trying not to dwell on the possibility that something she'd missed would mean the difference between life and death, Mariko concentrated on Regent Ieria's speech.

Without the translator, she couldn't catch every word…but what she understood, she didn't like. The longer she listened, the more she wished that she could go back to not comprehending a single syllable of the Vox language.

What the regent was saying was all about her.

"Mariko?" said Swift. "What is it?"

She had made a terrible mistake. It was all her fault.

Instead of working every moment to refine her understanding of the language, she had let herself get caught up in the breathtaking sights. Nalo and the crowd that had accompanied them to the tower had never stopped talking, presenting the perfect opportunity to download and analyze linguistic structure and nuance.

And she had acted like a tourist instead of doing her job.

"Mariko?" Swift's voice was sharper this time.

All her fault.

Mariko listened for another moment before turning to the captain. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I caused this."

"How?" said Swift.

"I used a slur," said Mariko. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Mazeesh."

"All this over a word?" said Commander Turner. "One word?"

Wincing, Mariko nodded. "I didn't know it was a slur. I heard it used in a different context with a different meaning."

"What meaning?" asked Turner.

"Beauty," said Mariko. "I thought it meant beauty."

Captain Swift looked at the red-furred Vox, still holding forth from her perch on the pillar. "Can you offer an apology?" he asked Mariko. "Explain that it was a misunderstanding?"

Grimly, Mariko shook her head. "I think the best I can hope for is to talk them out of killing you, too."

The import of her words left the Exogenesis group silent for a moment. Then, Swift looked around, scanning the mob of Vox jammed into the tower. Sighing, he reached for the communi-link in his pocket.

"Nobody dies," he said. "That is, if the teleporter doesn't kill us."

"Not the teleporter," Turner said unhappily. "Are you sure we can't fight our way out?"

Suddenly, Regent Ieria howled, triggering a roar from the crowd. It was one word, expelled in a deafening gust.

"Ruhala!"

The closer Mariko got to unreasoning panic, the faster she seemed to slide. "Death," she said.

The crowd chanted the word with bloodthirsty gusto.

"Ruhala! Ruhala!"

"It means death!" said Mariko, perilously close to spinning out of control.

"On second thought," said Turner. "Maybe the teleporter isn't such a bad idea."

Captain Swift already had the communi-link open. "Mariko," he said as he manipulated the controls. "Say something. Apologize, plead for mercy, anything. Buy us some time."