Chapter Eighty-Six (Cheekeet) (2/2)
--Do you need assistance, Captain?-- appeared on her retina along with Dulcet's ID.
”Just a nightmare, Dulcet,” Cheekeet said.
--I have the therapeutic dream generator set up if you need it--
”That's all right. Thank you though.”
--If you need my services, feel free to ping me even if I'm asleep--
”Digital Sentients sleep? I thought you didn't.”
--We take the time to defrag our files, run algorythms to decide which memories go into long term slow access storage and which ones go into short term rapid access, do diagnostics on our interfaces, and many other things that would cause discomfort to perform while we are awake--
”Oh. That makes sense, I guess. What if there's an emergency?”
--If it can't be handled by the eVI's then I'm woken up. It takes me a minute or two to come to full awareness, but it doesn't adversely effect me for two long.--
”Before I go back to sleep, are there any problems?”
--A few cases of homesickness, a moltling bit her sister, and one of the humans fractured his leg betting he could jump from a higher distance than his Akltak room-mate. And your emergency, of course.--
”All right. Thank you. I'm going to try to go to sleep.”
--Rest well, Captain. Oh, if you have trouble falling asleep, there's a program in your eVR called 'riding on the metro' that might help you if you run it sound and vibration only--
The call disconnected and Cheekeet laid there in the dark for almost an hour before getting up. She went through the eVR menu, found the program, turned off the smell, tactile, and visual, and ran it. There was the faint sound of an engine, a vibration of movement and energy, and the faint sense of distance receding.
She was asleep in minutes.
Two days later she had a visitor to her little house. When she answered the door a tall lean Terran stood there. His face was narrow, sharp looking, with intent eyes, his haircut seeming to be threatening somehow.
”Captain Cheekeet Longflight?” he asked.
For a split second Cheekeet had a vision of the human just suddenly stabbing her and walking away.
”Yes?” she asked carefully.
”I am Avery Dewey, of Dewey, Chetum & Howe, Legal Representation Firm,” the man said.
Oh shit, a lawyer! she thought, wondering if she could shut the door, set her house on fire, and escape out the back door and into the woods before he could file any lawsuits against her.
The lawyer waited patiently for the Akltak female's panic to subside. He was a professional barrister with nearly five hundred years of work experience on his resume.
He was used to panic.
”Um, please come in,” Cheekeet said, remembering you had to invite Terrans inside.
”Thank you. Do you prefer Captain, Captain Longflight, or Cheekeet?” the Terran asked, following her into the relaxation room.
”Cheekeet is fine,” she said, settling down on a perching branch. The lawyer sat down and she noticed that it didn't bother to shift ergonomics, just remained looking uncomfortable.
”Very well, Cheekeet. I am here as your legal representative for your colony with the regards to the Unified Civilized Councils, et al, those Councils and legal bodies known and unknown, for the purpose of ensuring your colonist and species rights are upheld,” the man said. His voice was even, no inflections, no accent, perfect Unified Standard.
Cheekeet just nodded.
”Currently your race has been emancipated, with the Unified Councils being forced to pay you reperations for involuntary servitude during your probationary period. Additionally, Johnson, Jackson, and Johnston are representing your species in a case of malicious colony assignment, which appears will be found for your species and against the Unified Colony Council,” Dewey stated. ”The Unified Council has demanded that your species leave your homeworld, but as the resources of your system have largely been extracted, your ecosystem and culture were largely destroyed by the Unified Colony Council and its agents, it has been determined that this will cause minimal species stress upon you.”
From there it got more complicated. Her race was suing the Councils for over a hundred different reasons, right down to reparations for her entire system being strip mined for use by the Core Systems as well as the transportation costs her species to arrive at the system and the cost for colonization of the system.
The Terran Colony Administration had found that four of nearby systems contained planets optimum for her species and had assessed the cost of transfer of those systems to the Akltak people, then sued the Unified Colony Council for the balance of the systems and the projected cost of relocating her people and all their possessions and installing basic, to Confederate standards, colony facilities, with no deductions.
And won without the opportunity for appeal.
From the way Dewey made it sound, Lanaktallans hid behind potted plants or galloped away when they saw representatives of Johnson, Jackson, and Johnston anywhere nearby.
Her head whirled. Not one system, but five. More than her people had previously possessed.
The Terran Space Force wanted to put refit, rearming, and repair bases in her systems with mutual defense pacts. Corporations were vying for her people's artwork and cultural art forms.
A twenty year old Akltak had performed the ritual Dance of Sorrow of Summer's End in a home made costume, uploaded it to SolNet, and become massively wealthy as the video was download or watched over a hundred and twenty billion times. Apparently it was extremely popular with the Clone Worlds and the two avian species of the Confederacy.
As her people had volunteered for various duties the Terran Confederacy was willing to discuss treaties with her people.
When Dewey left Dulcet had contacted her and recommended a dust bath and a short flight to ease her tension.
The swooping and soaring of flight in the clear sweet air soothed her. Helped her think about the future.
The failure of her colony had threatened her people with corporate absorption. Before the Terran lawyers had stepped in nearly a hundred corporations had bid for her people's potential contracts. Chicks would have been born into slavery and debt.
Now, fierce primates who took joy in battle and challenge, had freed her people from the shackles that had been being rattled in front of the chicks.
She settled down on a branch, marveling at the trees. They towered hundreds of feet high, with thick spaced branches that were perfect for landing upon.
The colony was spread out before her. She could see the medical clinic that was Dulcet's body, a small metallic robot out front planting decorative plants. She could see her people at an open air market, moving around, talking to one another.
She watched for a while then flew home.
Over the next few weeks she dealt with Akltak who were afraid that this was all some kind of sick joke. That Terran soldiers were going to arrive and make them all slaves, or worse, eat them at any second. A moltling escaped and the panicked mother had to be soothed for the ten minutes before it was found watching Dulcet plant flowers. Several Akltak had panicked when they discovered that the massive structures outside the starport were self-aware super-tanks. She arranged for tours to meet the Terran pilot and the super-tank's Digital Sentience.
Cheekeet found herself buried in busywork.
A Confederate Navy Officer came by to give her several awards in a quiet, private ceremony in her office that was witnessed by Dulcet and, of all people, Dewey. She was asked if she wished to sign up for any Civilian Reserve status and be 'on the beach' to use the slang. She'd agreed, without really thinking of it.
Then came the news.
The Lanaktallan had attacked the Terran Confederacy. Not just any attack, but had struck directly at civilian planets without even any military presence in the system.
The word went out.
AN ATTACK UPON ONE OF US IS AN ATTACK ON US ALL
She found herself, one drizzling afternoon, staring at the Leekteek Memorial Starport, staring at it. She was dressed in her official clothing, but had her old Confederate Navy uniform in a small bag in her right wingfist, her left wingfist holding tight to a datawafer containing her 'service history'.
There was a Confederate Military Recruiting Office inside.
Captain Cheekeet Longflight (ret, CivRes) stared at the starport. She had duties. The colony still needed her, would need her during these stressful times. Somehow she had morphed from a starship Captain without a starship to a colony Governor.
But she felt as if she had another duty too. A duty to wield a C+ Hammer in each wingfist.
She stood in the rain.
Conflicted.
Citizenship is a heavy burden.