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It was out there. Somewhere.
But not here.“Vid, show exterior view.”
He very nearly screamed at the planet that appeared, filling the vid transmission. Ilid staggered back several steps before he realized it wasn’t Bi’is.
It was Kalquor and its green-tinged seas and greener lands. Kalquor and its five orbiting moons. Kalquor, where Captain Kila was dropping him off before the spyship moved on to its next destination.
Ilid was home at last. Safe at last.
He reached a trembling hand to the vid, as if he could stroke the beautiful world itself.
* * * *
Kalquor
“But sir—” Tranis began a protest.
Rear Admiral Hobato held his hand up for silence. “I know how it appeared, but there have been no reports of trouble from our station orbiting Earth. No sign these Darks arrived there on Captain Kila’s vessel. I see no cause for alarm.”
He didn’t bother looking at Tranis as he spoke. The younger officer fought off a wave of anger to be summarily dismissed. It wasn’t as if Hobato spoke condescendingly. He simply wasn’t taking the situation seriously.
“I showed the same signs of those who’d been overcome by the Darks. The low blood sugar, absence of memory for a certain amount of time. Identical symptoms.”
“They are also symptoms of inadequate rest and eating.” Hobato finally gazed at him, his purple, slit-pupiled eyes meeting Tranis’. It was a friendly look, perhaps even paternal, but there was a flatness behind it, devoid of warmth. Tranis had witnessed too much of the emptiness there as of late.
Hobato’s lack of real concern when it came to the Darks baffled Tranis. Bi’is had been wiped out. Tranis had little sympathy for a race determined to destroy the Kalquorian Empire in its not-so-distant past, but it was still a horrifying final chapter. Bi’isils had been technologically advanced, a culture existing for nearly a million years. That they’d been eradicated so suddenly was terrifying.
“We have to know for sure,” he insisted through gritted teeth.
“How do you propose to do so? You’ve been subjected to every test the fleet can think of. Your Matara, a biogeneticist, acknowledged as among the best by her peers, has also run tests. Did she find anything amiss?”
“No, but it doesn’t mean—”
“We can’t cause a panic in the empire over a possibility for which we have no evidence, Admiral Tranis. If we do, we’ll be inundated by those promoting conspiracy and invasion theories. We’ll be accused of promoting them ourselves. The fleet needs to present hard facts rather than theories. Right now, theories are all we have.”
“The extermination of the entire Bi’isil population isn’t a theory, sir.”
“What proof do we have these ‘Darks’ did it? We only have the brief appearance of an unknown species and a traumatized ensign’s confused account of alien takeovers.” Hobato shook his head. “Bi’is was cut off from the rest of the Galactic Council of Planets after their attempt to destroy the Kalquorian Empire. They suffered horribly for their crime, deservedly so, but given how rigid and ritualistic their society was, would it be out of the question they’d decide to self-destruct?”
“Every last one of them? It’s impossible.” Tranis couldn’t believe he’d suggest it.
“It’s what we have proof of, however. Mass destruction, wholesale murder, then suicide by the perpetrators. How different is it from the course the original Earth’s leaders took?”
Tranis couldn’t find a clear argument for him, despite the two worlds Kalquor had warred against on separate occasions having taken different courses to annihilation.
“We have to be sure. A Galactic Council inspection team was on Bi’is just prior to its people dying.”
“I spoke to Secretary-General Mereta this morning. I’ve known him for decades, and he was the same as ever. If he’d noticed anything off, he would have told me.” Hobato continued to give Tranis his kind but blank regard. “We’ll continue to monitor the situation. If something comes up warranting real concern, we’ll act at once. For now, it’s all we can do. Dismissed, Admiral.”
“Sir—”
“Dismissed.”
* * * *
Tranis’ teeth were grinding hours later when he straightened his desk in preparation for leaving for the day. He shut off his computer by pounding his fingers on the keyboard rather than ordering it off.
“How many keyboards have you gone through in the last week? At least half a dozen, if you’ve treated them the way you’re treating this one.”
