Sumeru - 6. Chapter 6

John sat down. “What’s wrong with the communication system, Dan? Did you find a failure?” he asked.

Dan shook his head. “No failure records. The communication system appears to work properly. The system says our messages get out, but I think they don’t. Ground control has not replied because they got nothing to confirm.”

“Would they not have tried to send a message themselves?” John asked doubtfully. “Hours went by. They must be waiting for news. I’m certain they have sent a message by now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dan replied. “We can’t send and we can’t receive, although the system check says that everything’s fine.”

“What about the other systems?” John asked.

“The decontamination chamber worked and our life support system functions, apparently. I don’t know about the launch system and the drives. The computer works and no failures occur, but I’m not certain we can launch the ship. They’re keeping us from getting in contact with ground control Earth and I’m pretty sure they’ll keep us from taking off from their god-damned planet,” Dan said.

Rob joined them.

“They?” he asked.

“The aliens. Are you dumb?” Dan asked, unnerved.

“We detected no signs of intelligent life active on the planet or in the system,” John said.

“What else do you need?” Dan asked angrily. “The Dyson ring, remnants of buildings and streets, an airfield with a runway made of an odd tarmac, a control center that killed Pete. I don’t know where they hide, but they’re here definitely.”

James entered the front of the ship. The men looked at him. James looked exhausted.

“A stroke, not a typical one, though,” James said, sitting down in a seat. “Brain activity stopped from one second to the other, the result of exhaustion or excitement maybe.”

“Bullshit,” Dan said.

“What do you think? Do you think someone or something killed Pete?” John asked.

James shrugged. “He had grime on his fingers as if he had touched something dirty. The control desk maybe. Maybe he activated something and a defense mechanism came on, but I can’t say for sure, John,” he said.

“Has the computer finished analyzing the reconnaissance data?” John asked.

Dan turned to the console and checked on a display. The others watched him quietly.

“Nothing,” Dan said. “But I’m certain they killed him.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll go back to the building and have another look.”

“Wait. We must proceed with care. We can’t afford to put ourselves in danger,” John said. “We can’t afford to lose another man.”

Dan looked at him but then left the front of the ship.

“You must stop him,” James said. “He’s the pilot. We’ve already lost the flight engineer.”

John gave a nod and followed Dan. He came back a minute later and slumped in his chair.

“I couldn’t stop him. And maybe I don’t have the right to stop him,” he said.

The others didn’t reply. They looked out of the cockpit window.

Azrael sat down and Naamah rose to his feet. The hall fell silent. The head of the council allowed Naamah to speak.

“We proceed from topic to topic and vote on each of the agenda points separately,” Naamah said. “I suggest we make a wider connection. Why don’t we connect agenda points four and five? We discussed point four this morning. We voted against teaching individuals of upcoming civilizations in Sumeru and supported the idea of sending teachers to their home planets instead. The latter concept deems me a proper concept in the case of the civilizations we have just been discussing. I must agree with the Devas speaker’s point of view for once. Extermination of the species in the outer bounds of the galaxy is out of the question. The term Failed Planets is inadequate anyways. These civilizations are being monitored by Sumeru, but monitoring might not be enough in some cases. Why don’t we send teachers to those civilizations that are a threat to themselves and to space? Many species that joined Sumeru are qualified for the task. Many qualified individuals could be sent as a teacher. The Asuras species would be glad to support the cause.”

Naamah paused. He saw that Azrael was staring at him in disbelief.

“Of course, we will understand if you prefer to not send Asuras teachers due to some incident in the past,” Naamah said and sat down.

A discussion started among the men and women in the hall. Naamah was certain that, apart from Azrael and his party, no one had the slightest idea of the past incident he had mentioned. He looked at Azrael out of the corner of his eye. Azrael was staring at him, his mind apparently working hard. He was trying to figure out Naamah’s plan. A fellow tugged on his sleeve and Azrael turned to the man. Naamah smiled faintly.

More representatives spoke. The majority favored the concept of sending teachers to the young civilizations. The concept had been much en vogue in the past, but many had lost interest in it in the previous centuries. It seemed that the concept had a good chance to become popular again.

The discussion dragged on. Naamah listened with only half an ear. He watched the Devas group furtively. They were discussing among themselves and didn’t pay attention to the speakers. Naamah started to worry, but suddenly all Devas eyes turned to him. Azrael frowned. Naamah smiled inwardly. He hid his excitement, pretended disinterest and returned a haughty and arrogant look. Naamah leaned back in his chair and tried hard to look like a bored god. Azrael gave him a spiteful look and then turned back to his fellows.

The discussion had come to an end. The Gorth party requested to put sub-point 5.1 on the agenda and vote on the concept of sending more teachers to the upcoming civilizations in the outbound regions of the galaxy. Commander Jeva, the head of the council, put the point on the list and asked the assembled council members if they were ready to vote.

Azrael rose to his feet.

“Anything else? We ought to come to the end of the discussion. We have seven more points to discuss and vote on today,” Commander Jeva said, annoyed.

“A short reply from the Devas party to the request brought forth from the Asuras party,” Azrael said.

“The Asuras party made no request. The Asuras representative only contributed to the discussion,” Commander Jeva said. “Do you mean the Gorth request, sub-point 5.1?”

“I just want to make a suggestion,” Azrael said. “The Asuras party supports the idea of sending teachers to the outer planets, but they don’t want to contribute because of some incident in the past. We are of the opinion that the Asuras party should not only demand tasks from others but should likewise contribute. The Devas party is of the opinion that the Asuras party ought to send a teacher to the planet Ki.”

Commander Jeva looked at Azrael in confusion.

“Well, this is something for a later discussion but nothing for the High Council to vote on today,” he said. “We’ll only vote on the general concept today.”

“Just for the record,” Azrael said.

Commander Jeva raised his eyebrows and waved his hand. He addressed the assembled members and the representatives got ready to vote.

Naamah smiled with relief. He felt the urge to slump down in his seat but told himself to play the role till the end. He turned his head to Azrael and gave him a pissed off look. Azrael smiled triumphantly.

Smart ass not so smart, Naamah thought and turned his head away. He sent a message to Tamiel and reported the good news to him.

The meeting dragged on until late in the evening, but finally the council came to the end.

Naamah left the hall and hastened to the teleporter. He was stopped by Azrael.

“Who are you to even think of making such a request?” Azrael said. “Was it to free your bad conscience from guilt?”

“Thoughtful considerations rather,” Naamah replied, trying to push by the man.

Azrael stepped in his way once more.

“Hah,” he hissed. “It was plain to see for everyone. You Asuras want to wash your conscience and the record clean. Do you really think it can be done with a few words spoken in the annual meeting? And in the same breath you dare to say you Asuras want to refrain from the task and leave the work to others. Incredible! A shame! Why am I not surprised?”

“I can’t answer your question, dear Azrael,” Naamah said. “I have no idea when you feel surprised and why.”

“Arrogant bastard,” Azrael said. “This is why we split up with you. Your haughtiness and arrogance in the first place.”

Naamah took a breath. “Would you just let me pass, please. It’s late. I want to go to my quarters.”

“No,” Azrael shouted.

The passers-by looked at them. Azrael forced himself to calm down.

“You heard what I said,” Azrael said. “Will you take up on the Devas proposal?”

Naamah measured him. “What proposal? Send a teacher to Ki?” he asked.

“Send a teacher to Ki, exactly,” Azrael said. “The one proper thing you can do to make good your acts in the past. But be aware, we will monitor each and every of your steps.”

“The ways of the Devas are wise, benevolent and good,” Naamah said mockingly. “Don’t you see that you lie to yourself? Your proposal is devious, typical Deva it seems to me.”

Azrael’s face turned red. “Now what?” he asked, enraged.

“What?” Naamah repeated.

“Will you send a teacher to Ki?” Azrael asked, stressing every single word.

Naamah looked at him thoughtfully. “We could send Tamiel,” he said finally. “Just to do you a favor and settle the thing.”

Azrael’s mind was working. “Tamiel would be a good choice,” he said curtly, turned away and left.

Naamah looked after him. Yes, Tamiel was a good choice. They had planned it all along. Naamah entered the teleporter and got transported to Tamiel’s rooms.

“The plan worked out,” he said, stepping out of the door.

Tamiel looked at him anxiously.

“Ki,” Naamah said.

Tamiel’s shoulders slumped with relief.

Naamah went to the wall and pressed the buttons of the food processor. “It will take a while until they’ve made up a new concept. Sending a teacher to an advanced civilization is somewhat different from sending one to a primitive agricultural nation or a nomad people. You can’t walk around and pretend you’re a prophet who sucked up god’s words,” he said. “We have to be patient.”

Naamah returned to his quarters. He stood by the window and looked out into the blackness of space. They would soon have their own space hub. Their group was small but would soon increase, like in the old days when Triple City had attracted people from all over space.

Naamah went to a table and poured himself a drink.

All had begun roughly 250,000 thousand years ago when Sumeru had sent a mining team to the planet Ki in the outbound region of the galaxy. The planet was rich in bauxite. The ore was needed for aluminum alloys, materials that were desperately needed by Sumeru space industries. An Asuras team, experts in the mining field, was sent to Ki. They set up a ground station, a platform orbiting the planet and a base on the outmost planet of the star system as the way station to Sumeru. It was standard procedure. The planet was in the habitable zone and had developed life, flora and fauna, all kinds of animals and primitive half-intelligent creatures. This wasn’t ideal. They preferred to mine uninhabited planets, but the resources of bauxite on the planet Ki were extreme. Everything worked out for a long time, thousands of years actually. Triple City had become a home to many species, albeit predominantly Asuras. Many were born in Triple City and never set foot on Sumeru. Triple City and the Ki star system became their home, the place where they wanted to be.

The planet was long, tens of thousands years, in the grips of an ice age. The harsh climate didn’t hinder the operation, however, because the mining areas were located in the ice-free areas of the planet. The ice sheets melted roughly ten thousand years ago in a relative short time frame and the waters flooded the planet. Sumeru ended the mining activities. Many inhabitants of Triple City left the city and moved to Sumeru or other space hubs, but a group of Asuras, several hundred individuals, stayed in Triple City. They left the space bases when the flood receded and settled on the planet Ki. The native population had meanwhile advanced. Evolution had brought forth intelligent beings, hunters and gatherers, nomads, who at some point became settlers and citizans. That was the time when the problems started. The Asuras and the humans made contact. This was the first mistake.

Naamah emptied his glass and put it on the table. He went back to the window. It should have never happened. The natives considered them gods and the Asuras did everything to support their beliefs. Naamah compressed his lips. The Devas were right, he admitted. The Asuras should not have intervened. Everything went down from there. The humans advanced fast with the help of the aliens. The Asuras supported the concept of teaching the humans, a concept much en vogue in the old days. They had overdone it, of course. In all honesty, they had taken advantage of the humans, had imposed their influence on them, until it was too late. The humans, a smart and clever species, had gathered knowledge and began to claim power, they established kingdoms and kings and used what they had learned from the aliens against the Asuras. The Asuras took steps to dominate the rebellious humans and the humans took steps to drive the Asuras out. The humans, clearly inferior, didn’t have the ghost of a chance. But then the devious Devas switched sides. It started with a missile attack and culminated in a big war in space.

The humans ran down the Asuras ground facility. It was immediately clear that somebody had let them in. It got really rough from that point on. The traitors were quickly sorted out and banished from the Asuras place. They lived among the humans, announced their split-up with the Asuras and called themselves Devas from then on. They claimed that no civilization had the right to play god. The Asuras were enraged, understandably. They fired a missile on the ground facility and killed everyone in the area. The humans united to fight a war and the Devas assisted the human endeavors. The Asuras fought back, of course. If you looked at it at hindsight, it was actually a shame. All parties behaved like primitive creatures who engaged in a laughable war. It was probably why Sumeru had swept the incident under the carpet. Tamiel had figured it all out.

Anyways, the Devas finally drove the Asuras out of the star system after a ferocious battle in space. Most of them moved to Sumeru and many were captured later. The High Council intervened behind closed doors and commanded the Devas also leave the system. Ki was left to itself. The human civilization that had profited from the alien knowledge soon lost it and fell back to a primitive state.

Naamah crossed his arms. Ki had advanced. It was now the home of a technological civilization that had developed warp technologies and made their first steps into space. Ki would no longer be left to itself. Ki would from now on be closely monitored. Naamah’s group couldn’t do anything about Sumeru’s monitoring activities, but they had taken them into account. Full independence from Sumeru was out of the question. Sumeru dominated the galaxy, but they had at least come closer to their goal with the votes on agenda points four and five today. Azrael, the Deva representative himself, had opened Naamah’s group the door to the Ki star system where the old base on the outmost planet, partly destroyed in the war, could be restored and once again serve as a hub until a new and advanced space station would be installed. Sending Tamiel to Ki was a good start.

The news got out shortly after.