CHAPTER 5

     Captain Rand entered sickbay to find Tanner and Ben waiting for him near an occupied bio-bed.  The Cuscatian lying on the bed was asleep and resting peacefully, now dressed in a medical observation gown, as were all his people.  Ben was finishing inputting data into the diagnostic console on the bed’s side.  The entire staff of twenty-two sickbay personnel was on duty, tending to the Cuscatian refugees, who filled every bed in the facility.

     “Doctor, Chief,” Rand said as he approached them.  “How are our friends doing?”

     “Decently,” Ben answered.  “In spite of all these people have been through recently―the physical abuse, the psychological anguish―they’re holding up rather well.  We’ve gotten them cleaned up, a couple of them needed sedatives to sleep properly, but my people took care of that.”

     Rand noticed a slight uneasiness in the doctor’s tone, in spite of the upbeat report.  “I get the feeling you’re not telling me something, Ben.  What’s the problem?”

     Ben cleared his throat, then answered in a low tone so that only the captain and Tanner could hear:  “Cuscatian digestive physiology is very different from ours.  Although none of our foods are poisonous to them, some are more easily digestible than others.  I made up a dietary chart of those foods which the mess hall staff could easily prepare, and offered the chart to a couple of the Cuscatians for their approval.”

     Rand shrugged, waiting for Ben to make his point. “And―?”

     “And, they’re refusing to eat.  A couple of them even threatened me with some very permanent bodily harm, if I show them the chart again."

     “Threatened you?”  Rand said, taken aback.  From everything he had ever heard about Cuscatians, making physical threats was completely unlike them.  The captain looked to Tanner expectantly.  “I was going to put the ones who threatened the Doc in the brig,” the security chief explained, “but after hearing the reasoning behind why they did it, I figured I’d wait for your decision.”

     A perplexed look crossed Rand’s face at what he perceived to be uncharacteristic waffling on Tanner’s part.  “These must be some circumstances.”

     “Oh, they are,” Tanner assured him.  “They’ve chosen one of their own to speak on their behalf.  He’s fairly fluent in English.  Would you like to meet him?”

     Rand nodded, his curiosity piqued.  Ben pointed to the rear of the sickbay, then went back to examining his other patients as Tanner led the captain through the nearly overwhelmed medical facility.  “There were too many of them to put in one room, so the rest are on the other side of the corridor, in the infirmary,” the tactical officer told him.  They proceeded to the last bed at the very rear of sickbay, which was separated by a medical curtain.  Tanner paused, looking briefly at the captain and whispering, “Keep in mind, sir, that the Doc and his staff have found absolutely no cases of malnutrition among these people.”

     Rand thought that was a curious thing to say, and kept it in a front compartment of his mind as Tanner pulled the curtain aside, unintentionally prompting a fearful squeal from the squat Cuscatian sitting on the bio-bed.  “It’s all right, it’s all right―it’s just me,” Tanner hurriedly apologized.  The Cuscatian looked at Tanner and Rand wild-eyed, uncomprehending for a moment.  But then his eyes narrowed as they focused exclusively on Tanner.  This Cuscatian, who had been the first to address Tanner aboard the prisoner transport, blinked once, then exhaled heavily as he grew accustomed to the alien’s pale face once more.

     “Yes.  Yes, yes...security chief Matthews, yes.  Hello.”

     Tanner nodded, cautiously optimistic that there would be no more outbursts.  “This is my commanding officer, Captain Travis Rand.  Captain, this is Haerg, Lieutenant First Ranking, of the Cuscatian Parliament.”  Rand did not step forward or offer his hand, for fear of startling Haerg.  “Welcome aboard the Horizon,” he said simply.  “Thank you, Captain,” Haerg replied as he respectfully bowed his head.  “We owe you our lives, truly.”

     “Nonsense,” Rand said.  “You’re our allies.  We weren’t about to let you be taken to a slave garrison.”

     A rattling sigh escaped Haerg’s throat.  “If only that had been our destination, our imprisonment might not have been so nightmarish.”

     “Where were the Calvorians taking you, then,” the captain asked, puzzled.  Haerg’s eyes widened as he looked to Tanner.  “You didn’t tell him?”

     The security chief shook his head.  “I thought it might be best if it came from you.  And you could explain why your men threatened our CMO.”

      Haerg cast his eyes to the floor, embarrassed.  His serrated fingers played with each other nervously.  “I must apologize for that, Captain Rand.  And I thank you, and Chief Matthews, for not placing the two who misspoke themselves, in your brig.  After all we have been through, such further imprisonment would be unbearable.”

     “Why did your men threaten my doctor?”  Rand insisted, his impatience beginning to get the better of him.

     “Your people rescued forty-three of us,” Haerg stated.  “When we began our forced journey toward Calvorian space a week ago, there were forty-four of us.  The reactions of my subordinates are based on a foundation of fearful recollection, Captain.  You see, the Calvorians kept us well-fed for a reason:  they eat living beings.”

     Rand suddenly felt his stomach turn over as he stared at Haerg in stupefaction.  “What?”  he exclaimed, almost unwilling to accept such a hideous revelation.

     Haerg nodded his segmented neck, his eyes unexpectedly filling with tears.  “A week ago, several of our fighter squadrons engaged three columns of Skimmers near the binary system you call Groombridge 34.  They destroyed the majority of our ships and took the rest prisoner aboard a nearby cruiser called in to round us up.  From there, we were transferred to the prisoner transport, which began its journey home.  The guards beat us to keep us in line, as would be expected in any case.  But they also made certain we had food in abundance, which was puzzling yet welcome...after all, we had no idea how long our trip would be. We had given up on a rescue once we overheard a guard say we had entered their space.  Then, one...one evening...” Haerg suddenly exploded into tears, his body shuddering with his sobs.  Tanner placed a hand on the stocky alien’s shoulder plate.  He rubbed it gently, in an attempt to be supportive.   Rand was too stunned, and had no idea what to say.

     “His name...his name was Weznel,” Haerg continued through his tears.  “One evening, three of the guards came into the prisoner bay and chose him at random.  They left the door open so we could see―!”  He paused, wiped his eyes.  His breathing was overly rapid, and Rand feared the squat alien might begin to hyperventilate, but Haerg caught himself...forced himself to calm down, to take steady breaths as he continued.  “Two more guards entered and stood in our compartment, keeping their guns trained on the rest of us as the others held Weznel down and broke his chest open!  He was still alive, still screaming, as they extended their fingernails and teeth...and dug into his open chest like they were at a―what is the term you use?  Yes...a buffet.”  His breathing came in short huffs a moment, but he managed to catch it.  “After a while, his screams stopped...and all that was left were the greedy, ravenous chomping sounds.”

     Haerg was staring off into nothingness, and Rand and Tanner could tell he was vividly re-living the image in his mind, like a viewer strapped to a chair in a theater, being forced to watch as a gruesome murder takes place on stage.  “I think they spaced his empty exoskeleton,” he said absently.

     Rand was truly nauseated by this knowledge Haerg had imparted.  He had never heard of the Calvorians eating prisoners, and wondered if their palates found human beings as pleasing―after all, no human P.O.W.s had ever been recovered from Calvorian space.  Rand wondered if perhaps Lauren Bowers had heard such tales, and this was what prompted her to set her plan to eliminate the Calvorian home world in motion.

     For just a moment, Rand shared her worldview.

     “We are headed back to allied space, aren’t we, Captain?”  There was fear and a desperate, desperate plea in Haerg’s voice.  It was obvious he didn’t want to risk being captured again, and Rand could certainly understand why.  He hesitated a moment before telling him, “Unfortunately, no.  The Horizon is on a covert mission by directive of UEF Command.  We’re currently in the heart of Calvorian territory, and we can’t turn back now.”

     “The heart of―!”  Haerg gasped.  The Cuscatian shook his head back and forth, and jumped off the bio-bed in near hysterics as he shouted, “No!  No, no, no!  This―this isn’t right!  We have to go back, we have to turn this ship around, we―”

     Rand gripped Haerg’s arms, locked eyes with him.  “Calm down!”  The captain’s tone was firm, unyielding, leaving no room for argument.  Haerg caved in before it, and leaned his head against Rand’s chest as he collapsed into sobs once more. The captain shrugged him off and pushed the stocky alien into a visitor’s chair near the foot of the bed.  “Get a grip on yourself, Lieutenant!”  Rand scolded, hoping to snap Haerg out of his grief.  The Cuscatian shrugged pitiably, his shoulder plates drooping.  “I’m sorry, Captain.  It’s just...I can’t...”

     Rand and Tanner shared a concerned look, and both men had the same thought:  there weren’t enough quarters on board to accommodate their guests, and neither officer wanted to place them in the brigs.  On the other hand, Haerg, in his grief and fear, might stir the other Cuscatians to revolt in an attempt to take over the ship and retreat to the relative safety of Parliament space.  Although Rand was confident Tanner’s forces could easily put down an on-board insurrection, the captain had no desire to fire on Earth’s allies, plus it was simply a distraction his crew couldn’t afford at this stage.  Something had to be done to defuse this situation.

     Rand knelt in front of Haerg, and looked the stocky alien squarely in the eyes.  “Look...I’m sorry, but my orders are final.  I can’t turn the ship around until our mission is complete.  But after what you’ve told me...I swear to you, on my life, that I am not about to let this ship get taken by enemy forces.  No matter what, you and your people are under my protection.  I will blow this ship up before I let a single Calvorian board it.”

     Haerg stared at Rand, searched his eyes for the truth behind his words.  “Really?”  he asked, sounding like a child begging for a promise from his father.  The captain nodded, resolute, and Haerg leaned back in the chair, relieved.  “Thank you, Captain Rand.”

     Rand nodded once more and stood, gesturing for Tanner to follow him.  The security chief pulled the medical curtain closed as he and the captain departed, leaving the weary Cuscatian alone to recover.

     A few minutes later, Rand and Tanner were discussing their concerns with Ben in the corridor outside sickbay, the three men looking for solutions.  “What do you think, Doc?”  Tanner asked.  “Does the possibility exist that they could try something?”

     Ben considered the question carefully before answering.  “Cuscatians are generally a non-aggressive species.  The only reason they even entered this war is because their home world is so close to Earth, they knew they’d be the next target if the Calvorians polished us off.  In fact, everything about the way they’ve conducted themselves in this conflict―their moderately-efficient fighter craft, their loosely-organized fighting tactics―suggests they usually avoid conflict at all costs.  Heck, they haven’t even established off-world colonies, yet they’ve had interstellar capability for three hundred years.”

     “So you’re saying they won’t raise arms against us?”  Rand asked, a bite of impatience within his tone.  Sometimes Ben would square dance around a question a bit before answering it, but the captain was hoping for a solid response before the three of them aged any further.

     “Actually, I’m saying there’s every possibility they will,” the doctor replied, graciously ignoring the irked tone in his friend’s voice.  “What I’ve just recounted suggests the Cuscatians are a highly xenophobic species, almost totally distrusting of other races.  If they haven’t encountered other life forms besides us and the Calvorians, then all they’ve seen is that other species are real good at killing each other, and that hostility can extend itself toward them.  This group, in particular, has experienced that firsthand.  Ultimately, Haerg and the others may decide it’s easier to just go with the flow, rather than continue along a peaceful path.”

     “Hold on a second.  The Cuscatians aren’t exactly innocent bystanders in all this,” Tanner remarked, somewhat defensive.  “You don’t fire at someone and think your weapons might not kill them.  Their flyers have guns mounted on them just like our DFCs do, and they’ve been in a lot of dust-ups, just like we have.”

     “But they’re coming at this from a different angle,” another voice interjected.  The trio of officers turned to see Diviner Bova approaching, dressed in gray-and-purple robes with foreign writing down the side.  He had a large white book in one hand, with an infinity symbol on its cover―the bible of the Nondenominational Church of the All.  “The Cuscatians have never known internal conflict within their society,” he informed them, “whereas humans have known virtually nothing but bloodshed our entire history.  Conflict is old hat to us, but it’s a new and ill-fitting set of clothes for them to wear.”

     “What are you doing here?”  Rand said unpleasantly.  He had a feeling the affairs of church and state were about to collide.

     “There are nine hundred and fifty-two personnel aboard this ship, Captain,” Ben said in an even tone.  “Not all of them can keep their mouths shut.”  Rand looked at him questioningly, and Ben asserted, “I explained the situation to him, while you and Matthews were talking with Haerg.  I asked Devon to lend a hand.”

     Before Rand could protest, Bova added, “I have extensive experience dealing with the Cuscatian psyche. When I was still stationed at Alpha Base, I had several periods of contact with Cuscatian pilots who would stop over for R&R.  I became familiar with their culture, system of beliefs, how they think.”

     Rand was caught off-guard by this.  As a point of interest, the captain studied the service records and personnel files of every crew member who served under him so that he knew what to expect of them, how they would react in a pinch.  But since Bova was on board under the auspices of the NCA and technically didn’t serve under him (not to mention the captain simply had no interest in the history of any NCA Diviner), Rand had never sampled his file. However, the captain was forced to admit his curiosity had been raised―and if he could use the Diviner to his advantage...

     “How do you think you can help?”  Rand asked.

     “These people respond best when given the truth,” Bova emphasized, secretly pleased the captain was willing to give him a chance.  “I don’t know what your mission is, Captain, and I’m in no way suggesting you divulge its full nature to the Cuscatians―”

     “They’ve already been told as much as they need to know, Diviner,” Tanner gruffly cut in.  Like Rand, he had little or no use for religion.

     “Oh...very good, then,” Bova replied awkwardly.  “Well, the Cuscatians can be a deeply spiritual people, when they are given an avatar to help them through their feelings and express their beliefs.  The writing on my robe is actually a blessing in their language, a souvenir from my days at Alpha,” he explained.  “If you’ll allow me access to them, I can get them talking―and through solid communication and prayer, I can walk them through their fear and help them to maintain calm.  I’ll stay with them until the mission is over, if you’d like.”

     Rand kept a neutral mask on the entire time Bova had been speaking.  There was absolutely no way for the Diviner to tell what was running through Rand’s mind, but his heart sank as the captain turned back to Matthews.  “I want a security contingent down here immediately.  Post two guards inside sickbay, two in the infirmary, at a distance.  The rest out here―”

     “Just a minute, Captain,” Ben cut in.  “I don’t want my patients further disturbed by the presence of armed troops.  This is my sickbay; I have a responsibility to their well-being.”

     “You’re still an officer aboard my ship, which makes me responsible for your life,” Rand countered sharply.  “You’d be

surprised how unobtrusive two guards placed at one end of the sickbay can be.  Your facility will be staffed with the bare minimum necessary to run it and tend to your patients, to minimize potential hostage situations.”  The captain looked at Tanner.  “No one enters or leaves without my authorization.”  Rand then turned back to Ben.  “These orders are in effect until our mission’s over, Doctor, and you’re going to carry them out with a smile on your face.  Understand?”

     As before with Haerg, it was a tone which left no room for argument or compromise.  Ben had been on its receiving end once or twice in the past, and knew when to give up.  “All right, Captain,” he said, defeated.  “I hear you loud and clear.”

     That out of the way, Rand faced Bova once more and pointed a stern finger at the Diviner.  “You better be at the top of your game, because if I have to clean up after you, there’s going to be hell to pay.”