Lines in Sand

(Starspeak)

Out of all the Vorak on their side of the so-called 'peace talks', it was this system's Prolocutor that had impressed me the most. Or…disappointed me the least might be more accurate.

Scraping my brain for civics, there were a number of loose similarities between the Prolocutor's role and that of the president back home. First glance would say the president was the executive for one nation, while the Prolocutor was the executive for no single nation and yet representative for all of them. But recalling that each of the fifty states had its own governor, much like how all the alien nations had their own leadership, the parallels began to emerge, if murkily.

Like the president, the Prolocutor was always a contentious vote. Roughly half of anyone was all but guaranteed to hate them.

Harpe Unee Brabalk was the latest Vorak to fill that office, and I knew precious little of their politics. They'd been among the more civil participants in Peudra's failed summit, but I wasn't about to soon forget her words.

She'd said everyone had showed up knowing they would fall short of peace, and I trusted her judgement.

It left me bitter and wary when the Prolocutor delivered to me an eclectic series of formal documents and newspaper headlines.

'Corruption uncovered in judiciary'

'Manufacturing downturn worsens'

'Coalition retakes Shirao C2 planets'

The documents were all seemingly unrelated, but the more I read, the more I began to see an emerging pattern, one the Prolocutor wanted to bring to my attention. They waited patiently along with their bodyguards while I drank in the documents.

My eyes narrowed on the war-footing update.

"…The Red Sails withdrew?" I asked.

"It's not classified information, if that's what you're worried about," the Prolocutor said.

"The only way the Coalition is retaking Shirao is if the Red Sails just suddenly pulled up stakes. What about the Deep Coils? Didn't they hold one of the moons?"

"The Coils have actually taken all four of Paris' major moons," the Prolocutor informed me. "Part of a territory exchange agreement a few months ago. The Red Sails withdrew from Harrogate, Yahwhere, and Archo, so the Coalition moved in. Marshal Tox's forces now occupy the gas giant's moons."

I bit off the obvious question, not wanting to show how little I knew here. For the Red Sails—and by extension, the Assembly—to give up not just Yahwere, but Harrogate too? Shirao C2 was a unique system for having not one but two planets that supported Nakrumum ecology. They were precious and invaluable resources for producing food, textiles, and all sorts of other biological materials that couldn't manufactured on the same scale in space colonies.

That wasn't what the Prolocutor was putting in front of me though.

"The Red Sails didn't withdraw," I concluded. "You said it was a territory exchange…but I would have heard about the Red Sails being redeployed to another warfront. I've got one of them on loan to my crew right now."

"They're being moved to V3, provisionally," Unee said simply.

I frowned.

"…They were recalled?"

The Prolocutor did not nod, but gave me a grim expression.

Some of the other documents were recontextualized with that information. One in particular.

'Svional group back in Margatha' was referring to, not an entire Void Fleet, but still one of its deployment groups. They belonged to the Horror Wings too, Marshal Cacallay's fleet.

"…The Red Sails are under investigation," I guessed. "In connection with…the judiciary corruption? What exactly do you suspect them of?"

The Prolocutor once again stayed silent giving the slightest nod toward me.

"Is that supposed to be funny? You're investigating the Red Sails for abducting us?"

"Circumstantial evidence has emerged, and while it's far from definitive, we're not willing to take any chances," the Prolocutor said.

"I've already been down… sailed that voyage," I said, sliding in the Vorak idiom to nail it home. "I've looked over every ship position they had for the eight weeks surrounding the first appearance of human abductees in C2. Admiral Laranta even agreed, the Red Sails didn't do it. And if she's saying that? About her own enemies? I think I can trust that judgement."

"I met with [miss] Nora Clarke last year," the Prolocutor said. "It was part of a routine briefing on the Assembly task force investigating your abductions, but we did cover one increasingly likely possibility that your investigation of events couldn't disprove: the abductions could have been commissioned."

"…You aren't looking at the Sails then," I said. "You're looking specifically at Marshal Tispas and his budget."

"Not just Tispas," the Prolocutor said. "Subordinates, sub-commanders. All the fleet leadership. And yes, the budget. Specifically classified 'black-budget' espionage operations."

Sub-commanders.

"Tox," I realized. "The Assembly is investigating Tox Frebi?"

"Everyone, even maybe related," the Prolocutor said gravely.

"Tox Frebi signed up with Nora and the Archo Mission," I said. "He's here with us right now. You're investigating us? For our own abductions?"

The Prolocutor gave a glance to their bodyguards.

"I'd like the room," they said.

The lead agent gave a truly anxious look, desperately wanting to protest the order.

"Galling epithet aside, I don't think Caleb Hane would do anything," Unee said. "Just beyond earshot is enough."

The guards reluctantly took their distance in the hangar, leaving me and the Prolocutor alone in the wide empty room.

"[What the fuck?]" I hissed, dropping my voice. "You people seriously think we abducted ourselves?"

"Some do," the Prolocutor admitted, unperturbed by my anger. "I find it…cosmically improbable, let's say. But I understand at least a few in the Coalition had similar concerns when you first showed up."

That…was actually true. Nai herself hadn't trusted my story the first few months I'd known her.

"[Okay, okay…] Explain from the top," I demanded.

"The Assembly and its members are investigating the possibility that the Red Sails purchased and orchestrated your abductions in consultation with these…machine enemies you've described," Unee said. "There have been enough questions raised, that some believe even some Terrans are part of the conspiracy. Marshal Cacallay is likely one who believes so."

"And I'm sure the Red Sails personnel we've made friends of can't be helping that perception," I scowled.

"Like I said: worse," Unee said. "It might be small consolation to know that, given your past…rigorous antagonism with the Sails, in most minds you are not among the Terrans suspected. Now on the hill's other side, [Miss] Clarke's faction…."

"Not so much," I surmised.

They gave a curt nod.

"…But you're warning me about Cacallay because even if I'm above suspicion, Halax and Tox are both here," I said.

The Prolocutor nodded.

"There are two prevailing camps which are coordinating for the time being until more information can be secured. One believes these machine infiltrators are a Casti espionage program that actually predates the Coalition. The other believes the machines are a First Contact protocol from Earth designed to insulate your homeworld as they secretly gain information and prepare Earth to their advantage. Proponents of both theories want to investigate you Humans and the Red Sails for any evidence suggesting how or when the Red Sails might have been subverted, if they have been at all."

"Which camp are you in?" I asked.

"Neither," the Prolocutor said easily. "I was actually asked by Marshal Cacallay to pass this information along to you."

"Oh?" My eyebrows crept up. "So it's not that you're feeling helpful, the Marshal just wanted me to know…what?"

"I didn't say there wasn't anything in this conversation for me," Unee said. "But I make for the optimal messenger here, for reasons that I can explain shortly."

I gestured for them to continue.

"The Marshal's options are somewhat choked," the Prolocutor said. "Much as they might like to, your visas for this planet are legal and that obligates their investigation to move through proper channels…But your crews' visas are also conditional."

Ah.

The Prolocutor did not miss the recognition on my face.

"You've been consulting with Agent Avi's task force hunt for Shuma Norshun," they said.

"…Loosely," I admitted. "Avi's been leaving me whatever psionics they want analyzed, and I've basically just been throwing the results in their lap."

"…That's all?"

"If Avi wants more, they can ask," I said simply.

Except…

"Fair enough," the Prolocutor said. "However, given the scrutiny the military is placing on your crew…you should make sure Shuma Norshun is apprehended before you depart the planet. Anything less could be quickly construed against you."

"Thought I was above suspicion," I said.

"Of involvement with the Red Sails? You are. But I don't think I need to tell you what your reputation is among the Vorak. Lightbringer: understand?"

"I guess, but I earned that reputation tangling the same Red Sails under suspicion now," I frowned. "Seems like a double standard."

"The Red Sails are presumed innocent until proven guilty," Unee explained. "That principle is sacred among most Vorak. So unless some great treachery is discovered, your past with them will continue to count against you in many Vorak minds."

"Hey, they started it."

The rak chuckled. Good. At least this one could take a joke.

"…The military would really get involved if we try to leave?"

"As long as Shuma Norshun is at large…yes," the Prolocutor said. "I hate to tell you, but no small amount of that pressure would come through my office. My task force is the one hunting them, and even if the matter is not crucial in my eyes…"

"Politics," I said, following their logic. "Other people want it done, and they can put pressure on you."

"I believed the most civil way to inform you of the situation was immediately and in-person," they said.

"…No loopholes in that?" I asked.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Their silence oozed of guilt.

"The Jack has several kids on its crew manifest right now," I said. "We brought them along more or less for educational purposes; we never intended to put ourselves in any danger like this. If they were quietly transferred to the diplomatic delegation's ships, would that raise alarms?"

"No, on that matter you can have my guarantee," the Prolocutor said. "Candidly, your entire crew could leave so long as you yourself stayed and honored the agreement."

I nodded.

This was annoying, and no small part of me felt like I was being threatened. Which, I was. But I wasn't totally insensitive to the Prolocutor's political position here. They were a messenger, delivering a threat, but also a messenger who just so happened to have a way to circumvent the threat by having me do something I was mostly already doing anyway.

"How apprised are you of Avi's task force?" I asked.

"I know the broad strokes of their investigation," the Prolocutor said. "Shuma has been evading capture for months using psionic tools well far advanced of what their pursuers have…but still inferior to yours."

"Psionics are helpful, but they're not magic," I said. "The biggest thing they've let Shuma do is communicate untraceably and receive help from a very effective group."

"Then you feel you can accelerate the task force's progress?"

"Well, I'll have to, won't I? If I want to get off this planet before the year's out," I said, letting my displeasure sound loud and clear.

"Again, apologies," the Prolocutor said.

"…You really mean that, don't you?" I asked. I hadn't expected such genuine guilt from a politician.

"My daughter was abducted and ransomed when she was first born," they explained. "You abductee's situation is not identical, and yet it lingers in my mind often."

"I'll be sure to take you up on that offer to get the kids off-planet," I said. "If it's any help, I won't be just sending some of my crew back early. I'll be replacing them with some talent that brought the Coalition delegation here."

"Adepts?"

"Our very best," I nodded.

"I hope you don't think this sounds too self-serving when I say: I eagerly await the chance to brag about the aid your Flotilla is giving Kraknor law," the Prolocutor said.

It sounded pretty self-serving.

But if the Vorak were going to be this transparent about it?

I could live with that.

·····

Eight munchkins had come with us on the Jack. Peudra had used their presence on the crew at several points to lend more credence to the Jack as a civilian, diplomatic vessel.

But now we actually wanted to give off the opposite impression. Our ability to leave both Kraknor and the entire V1 system unimpeded was now contingent on how mean, tough, and valuable we appeared as an ally, a resource.

Making friends by sharing enemies, a tale as old as time.

Of course, this wasn't so much 'making a friend' as it was staying on civil and legal terms, but those distinctions and nuances weren't the most palpable for the kids being told they had to leave the cool alien planet early and unexpectedly.

"[Come on,]" Vicky complained. "[We didn't even get to go to the beach.]"

I gestured out the Jack's window.

"[You really want to go to the beach in this weather?]" I asked.

"[No, but it would have been nice to at least stick around long enough for some sun,]" she grumbled.

I couldn't fault her there. Vitamin D supplements were a poor substitute for actually spending time outdoors in fresh air.

"[I promise we'll visit another atmosphere soon,]" I said. "[For now though, we need to get you guy's out of harm's way—just in case. So I want you all to be ready for exactly how jealous everyone else is going to be when you get back to the Siegfried.]"

"[We really have to write essays?]" Bryce groaned.

"[Write about what you guys did around the city. You saw the aquarium, the science & history museum, what else?]" I prompted.

"[The racetrack was pretty cool, I guess,]" Bryce conceded.

I hoped it had been. Instead of being like Formula One or Nascar, Vorak vehicle racing was more like a time trial with one racer at a time, but the courses were just absurd. Made with Adeptry in mind, they frequently featured loops, obstacles, and all sorts of hazards for a vehicle to navigate at speed.

After much anxiety for Nai, me, and every other adult in the room, we'd been convinced to let each one of the kids to ride passenger exactly once.

I knew their trip to Kraknor would ultimately be an unforgettable experience when I found myself feeling a little envious of the activities they'd done while I made myself busy doing…hurricane rescue, cult confrontation, and larceny under the high-seas.

Even if my stuff had been fun too, I'd long since lost the ability to rationalize what I was doing as 'vacation'.

"The eight of you are going to pile onto the John Brown and Clark Kent," I said, switching to Starspeak, all business. "I'm not picky about who's on which ship, but remember that you're going to be riding back to the Siegfried with the Coalition Admirals. Keep your distance and follow whatever orders Ike and Jean tell you two, okay?"

They grumbled their half-hearted agreement.

"I said… follow your ship captains' orders! Understood?"

"[Yes sir!]" they chirped, more enthusiastically this time.

I turned to Jean and Ike, discussing who'd be riding in which ship.

"You guys sorted out which ship is carrying the Empress?" I asked.

"Unless you had any thoughts, I was going to take her, Cursozi, and the Vice-Admirals," Ike said.

"Only Fute and Hakho on the John Brown then?" I asked, turning to Jean.

She shrugged.

"They wanted to split that way," she said. "Didn't seem like a big deal."

"Just, there's going to be kids on both ships no matter what. Whoever's on board with the Empress, they're probably going to get curious. And let's just say the Empress can be…tetchy," I warned. "So, my [two cents?] Make an appointment with Tane. Give the kids one hour during the trip to ask the big fancy war hero Adept whatever questions they want. Outside that hour though?"

"Steer clear," Ike nodded. "I got it."

"What about Ingrid?" Jean asked. "She coming too?"

"She should be," I scowled. "She's next on my to-do list. I was keeping her busy consulting on some of this manhunt work, but I think she might have gotten a little too into it."

"Wait, isn't one ship going to be overloaded then?" Ike asked. "If Ingrid's coming with, we're a berth short."

"You'll be fine. I'm taking Vez, Madeline, and anyone else who wants to help track down a dangerous killer. You'll have some free berths."

"Dang, putting together the [A-team]?" Ike asked.

"[Sooner we get to it, sooner we get through it,]" I shrugged. "I'll leave the ship arrangements to you. Talk to Peudra if you need anything, just…don't resort to them too quickly. They got kicked in the teeth. Badly."

"Understood, boss."

·····

"Seriously, where the [hell] is Ingrid?" I asked.

"Haven't seen her since this morning," Jordan answered honestly.

Ike was right, I had a monstrous collection of talent here. Nai. Tasser. Jordan, her sister Drew. Madeline and Aarti. Johnny. Donnie. Vez. Even Halax had the skills to contribute.

And yet I still didn't know if Ingrid was going back to the Ramstein crew now, or helping the task force with us.

"[Good grief,] that girl is going to drive me crazy."

With the eleven of us a shoe-in for any psionics world-cup, we were ready to walk out the door right now. But Ingrid was nowhere to be found.

Unbelievable.

Did I need to make some kind of psionic transponder system to keep track of my crew?

"Anything on radar?" I asked Nai.

"I'm not seeing her anywhere nearby," she said.

I rolled my eyes. Of course not.

<Ingrid,> I said, broadcasting the signal far and wide.

I made sure to use one of the more obscure channels so ordinary rak around the city wouldn't hear what I was squawking about, but still. Indiscriminate psionic signals like this were not conducive to privacy.

<Ingrid, nobody at the Jack knows where you are. Respond immediately or I'm going to think you're [ghosting] us again.>

<Caleb? Yeah, I hear you.>

The direction her signal came from baffled me. Seemingly from the reservoir, or across it.

<Where are you?> I asked. <Are you even in the spaceport?>

<No? I'm with Avi and the [feds]. I needed to ask them some stuff about these psionics.>

<Ships are leaving,> I sighed. <You're supposed to be on one of them.>

<Why?> she asked. <I've been working on this for days now, and you're staying for the same work. Why wouldn't I keep helping?>

I pinched my nose in frustration.

<Alright, yeah. Unclear expectations. That's on me. But you left without telling anyone. This crew needs to know where each other are.>

<Sorry,> she said, not sounding the least bit like it. <There's big progress over here, at least. Avi said you were swinging by later.>

<Sooner,> I corrected her. <I was only waiting on the Clark Kent and John Brown to launch, but they were waiting on you to be on board.>

<No one told me,> she said.

<Yeah, we should have been clearer about what was meant by 'we want to get Ingrid off this planet as soon as possible',> I said.

<I want to keep helping,> she insisted.

<…Fine,> I said, shooting the update to Ike and Jean.

Turning to everyone else, I beckoned for us to move.

The eleven of us got moving.

·····

The hurricane's second landing was fresh, and even with the increased preparation the second time around, the damage was still extensive.

Streets were flooded, skies were overcast, and you didn't have to go far before you found abandoned vehicles—both boats and cars.

Avi's task force had moved to one of the less-flooded local offices, and it looked embarrassingly like the set of a very dry, technical cop procedural. An old fashioned one, though.

No high-tech lab equipment. No satellite feeds. No glowing blue lights on anything in sight.

In fact, the entirety of Avi's investigation seemed to be paper shoved into filing boxes. There were reports describing evidence, witness interviews, and searches conducted on various locations Shuma's breadcrumbs led to.

Equally prominent were the large magenta 'DENIED' document requests for Shuma's military background.

Ingrid had made herself busy, helping optimize some of the organizational psionics Avi's Vorak were using to keep track of the deluge of paper, and she was all to eager to make as many introductions between the Vorak and us as possible.

My eye was especially caught by the 'DENIED' documents, being used to label certain empty boxes, with the sublabels 'who exactly did Shuma kill?' and 'victimology' and 'motive'.

"Denied," I noted, "not unable?"

"We're having no small amount of trouble getting the Gothagi military to turn over records on exactly who Shuma's killing spree included," Avi admitted. "They're calling it classified information. We have the broad strokes, but no specifics. It's making it difficult to profile their actions and priorities."

"That would probably help," I admitted. "But come on, it's been how many months since they went on the lam? You've been spending your time investigating the wrong crime. Sure, it would be really helpful to know all these things. But we're never going to catch them so long as we don't know who's helping them."

"I had some thoughts about that actually," Ingrid said raising her hand. "Shuma's left traces in a dozen cities up and down the Ogi coast, there's been twice that number of sightings, multiple of which create contradicting timelines. Caleb's right, whoever's helping isn't just giving them a safe house to lie low in. They're creating false trails too, actively helping Shuma evade law enforcement. I mean, we are talking about someone or some group capable of evading the law, moving through multiple different nations, with a clear understanding of investigatory and forensic practices. Tell me an internationally connected criminal oligarch wouldn't know those circles?"

"No, nonono…" I said, seeing where she was going.

"Sorry [dude]," Ingrid said. "At the very least, I think they'd have some insight; we should talk to Cadrune."

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