Steve’s Shorts: Dr. Carlos and the Slave Woman…
[The future won’t be without morally ambiguous decisions that must be made. This story describes a few. Starship Brendan’s medical officer Carlos Obregon has appeared in short stories contained in Pasodobles in a Quantum Stringscape and Fantastic Encores! He’s a bit of a Sherlock Holmes/Dr. Watson alloy. For more notes, please see the end of this story. Enjoy.]
Dr. Carlos and the Slave Woman
Copyright 2016, Steven M. Moore
Once starship Brendan left orbit, Captain Wilson stopped pacing on the bridge.
“It’s incredible how much a planet can change in two hundred standard years,” he said to no one in particular.
Loves Rapids, the navigator of the small ship in ITUIP’s exploratory fleet, spun her special chair around. The tentacles around the Ranger’s mouth fluttered a bit, body language indicating this representative of the Human’s first-contact friends was about to say something witty. The translation emitted from her decoder box drowned out the original buzzspeak.
“I’d like to remind the captain, if I may do so, that a huge change occurred in Human civilization on Earth between the year 1900 AD and 2100 AD.”
“You’re sounding like Obregon,” said Wilson with a growl. “That backwards slide wasn’t nearly as bad as what we’ve just witnessed on Charity. I’m going to ask ITUIP to put the planet in quarantine.”
“Loves Rapids has become quite the student of Earth history,” said Carlos Obregon, coming onto the bridge and sitting in the captain’s chair. The medical officer smiled at Wilson. “But I’ll agree with you. That was a near disaster.”
“How are the wounded doing?”
“Under Chen’s supervision and resting in the portadocs. They’ll have some new body parts in a couple of days. They showed remarkable restraint, considering. It could have been a bloodbath.”
Wilson went to his chair and gestured for Obregon to get up. The doctor smiled and vacated the chair with a more gallant gesture.
The captain made himself comfortable and sighed. “This is one of those cases when I wish ITUIP gave medals of valor.”
“Thank the nebulas they don’t. We have enough bureaucracy to—”
He was interrupted by the message from Lt. Riley they all received on their com implants.
“Riley to bridge,” said the head of ship’s security. “We have stowaways.”
“This is Wilson. How could that happen?”
“They hid in the samples storage locker on the shuttle.”
“Empty because we didn’t take samples,” said Obregon. “And we leave the ship open like idiots. Guess we have bio samples now. Do I need to examine them?”
“Chen’s already beginning that. They’re members of Charity’s slave race. The adult female is in bad shape. The male child seems to be in good condition.”
“I’ll be right down,” said Obregon. He nodded at Wilson. “You’ll have to return them to the planet. ITUIP Protocol.”
“No way,” said the captain. “They don’t belong there anyway. If anything, we’ll drop them off on their home planet. That’s a small bending of the Protocol.”
“That might be difficult. Edgerton and the others are still trying to figure out the slaves’ origins.”
***
The shuttle’s landing on Charity had started what was expected to be a routine update on a primitive humanoid society. The last explorer ship to visit some two hundred years ago had reported a sparsely populated agrarian world.
In near-Earth space, the Human form was more common than not. The Rangers were the exception rather than the rule. Galactic peoples tended to be bipeds, with minor differences in physiology and culture and different evolutionary trees, but evolution had still opted for a body with two arms and two legs and a brain encased in a skull. Exceptions to that rule, like the Arlmati, the Rangers, and certain collective intelligences like the Singer, weren’t that common.
From space they’d seen more villages and more planted fields this time. Their instruments hadn’t detected the hidden walled cities with their teeming millions. About half that population were slaves. George Edgerton, the ship’s xenosociologist, and other scientists had taken the shuttle down to the planet, accompanied by a minimal security detail chosen by Lt. Riley. Now three scientists and two of the four security detail were dead, and others were critically wounded. The sneak attack from the nearest city’s inhabitants had been massive. The shuttle had barely escaped.
Edgerton had concluded that the planet’s political structure was somewhat akin to ancient Greece, except Athens, Sparta, Corinth, and Thebes had been multiplied tenfold and were more populated. Every city-state had its own set of gods, although there was some commonality. Citizens of other city-states who were captured became slaves, but they were far outnumbered by the other slaves, who clearly weren’t native to Charity.
Charity was the name given to the planet by the first ITUIP visitors. It hardly seemed appropriate now. The attack on the scientists had shown little charity. There was no attempt at conquest even. The attackers aimed to kill everyone and almost succeeded.
***
Obregon probably knew more about the physiology of other genotypes in the near-Earth regions of the galaxy than any Human alive, but the slaves on Charity had baffled him a bit. He relished the idea of examining a few up close. He and Julie Chen, his former intern and now nearly his equal, went into overdrive. The female slave almost died on them as they determined the best portadoc parameters.
It was no consolation to them that most of her condition stemmed from her treatment on Charity. Old scars on her back were lost among new lacerations. Her left arm was useless.
Because the stowaways were humanoid, they had used some old procedures to determine the portadoc’s settings. Details like the number of teeth and ribs weren’t important in that determination. Blood chemistry, genetic structure, and location of vital organs were.
“Her evolution obeyed symmetry,” said Chen. “There’s no real need for a second heart.”
“Some kind of survival mechanism maybe,” said Obregon. “It usually comes to that. Left does the top, right the bottom. The brain can die, but she could still bring a pregnancy to term. The webbed feet indicate an aquatic environment on their home world. We’ll have to pass the information on to Edgerton and his team. That might help them determine where they’re from originally.”
“I don’t understand how that brutish master race could enslave these people. The slavers haven’t left their world, even to explore their own solar system.”
“Let’s count our blessings. These fellows are as bad as the Tali once were. Loves Rapids will be happy to know they might be aquatic originally. She takes a lot of lonely swims.”
“I swim with her sometimes. So do you.”
Obregon shrugged. “She has to do it almost every day. We don’t, and often don’t have time to do so.”
After their patient went into the portadoc, they turned their attention to the male child who was sedated. Obregon recognized the brand on the child’s forehead.
“He belongs to the leader of that city-state that attacked our camp,” he told Chen.
The female didn’t have the brand. From their samples, it didn’t take long for them to determine that she was the child’s mother. Had she been given her freedom? Had she stolen the child?
Considering what the pair had gone through, Obregon agreed with Wilson. They shouldn’t return the pair to the planet.
***
“I’m going to throw out a wild theory,” said Obregon looking over his coffee cup’s brim at Edgerton. He had left Chen monitoring the stowaways and the Human survivors while he visited the ship’s galley to let the stress out.
Edgerton laughed. “Your theories often merit that adjective. Go ahead.”
“What if the enslaved race are refugees from their home planet? It might be in bad shape after a war or climatological disaster, for example, and they came here, like the Rangers did at New Haven in the 82 Eridani system so long ago.”
“And we did too, ending up in several places, including New Haven.” Edgerton thought a moment. “That’s not such a wild idea. Definitely in the realm of the possible. A fairly large and genetically viable population lands on Charity, but not large enough to defend themselves against the locals. Doesn’t explain why the locals were so intent on killing us, though.”
Obregon sent Edgerton an image via the com implant. The scientist studied it. “I’m not going to ask who this naked Human female is, but why is her picture side by side with the stowaway’s?”
The doctor shrugged. “Old girlfriend. I took a picture of her when she was sleeping. She’ll never know the difference. Being a scientist too, she’d appreciate how I’m using her to compare to the slave woman. What do you see, old man?”
“You’re probably expecting me to say that the slaves look more like us than the locals, right?”
“Humans come in many colors, so ignore skin color. That’s exactly what you should see. The locals on Charity are short and stumpy, almost hunchbacks. Victor Hugo could almost use them as a model for his novel.”
“Who’s Victor Hugo?”
“An author from Earth’s pre-spaceflight history. 19th century, if I remember correctly—old counting system. His most famous work is Les Miserables, but he also wrote The Hunchback of Notre Dame. The main character lived in a church steeple. Look it up in the database.”
“Is Notre Dame the name of a town?”
“The name of a church. It was on an island in the Seine, a river flowing through Paris, the capital of France.”
“That’s enough ancient history for today. Back to the point. Are you conjecturing that the locals, the slave masters, thought we were from the slaves’ planet?”
“On Charity once again, this time looking for revenge.” Obregon smiled. “Guilt by association. If you’ll pardon another history lesson, a whole group of Humans were considered evil by association—21st century, I believe—but saner minds prevailed and the Muslims weren’t persecuted even though a few radicals professing that faith created all sorts of mayhem and murder.”
“I’m not sure I buy that theory. But back to the first one. Doesn’t it imply that the slaves’ planet is nearby somewhere?”
“I’m sure of it. And I have a way to find out.” Obregon stood but saw the raised eyebrows. He laughed. “Now I have your attention. I’m going to ask the female slave. She might know.” He turned to go, but looked back over his shoulder at Edgerton. “And don’t get any ideas about Zebi. She’s happy with another man now and no longer available.”
***
“We’ll have to tell the AI to use the master race’s language,” said Obregon. “I hope it doesn’t frighten her.” He turned to Chen. “Maybe if she saw you first? I’ll give her the antidote for the sedative.”
They had already added the com implant behind her ear that was a miniature of what Loves Rapids hung around what served as the Ranger’s neck. Chen and Obregon would speak Standard and the stowaway would hear Charity’s language, the whole process controlled by the ship’s AI.
“How do you feel?” said Chen after Obregon threw the switch and the stowaway’s eyes popped open.
“I-who are you?”
“You may call me Chen. You stowed away on our shuttle that lifted from Charity and brought you to us. I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner. We had our own wounded to take care of.”
The stowaway started to rub her eyes. Was she crying? Obregon could only guess. If they were truly aquatic in origin, tears wouldn’t be the norm, so maybe her action was just a reflex to waking up after a long nap.
“My name is Hali. I’m sorry for that bloodshed. My people had nothing to do with it. The Masters are very paranoid about us. They try to beat memories of our history out of us. And you look like us.”
Obregon looked back to where Edgerton and others were looking through the one-way glass and winked.
Chen nodded. “I think I understand. Can I introduce you to a friend?”
“Are you my friend?” Chen nodded. The stowaway seemed satisfied. “Then I would like to meet her.”
“Him. Meet Obregon. We treated you. We gave you a new arm and did some other necessary repairs to your body.”
Obregon stepped forward. “I’m happy to meet you, Hali.”
She looked from Obregon to Chen. “I-I don’t understand. Are you shamen?”
“We’re a bit more advanced than that. You can understand us through the implant, for example.” He touched his own. She touched hers. “You must have realized that, though, when you boarded our shuttle.”
“Yes, lots of magic. My son was impressed.”
“Your son’s fine,” said Chen.
“Yes, he told me.”
Chen looked at Obregon. He shrugged.
“I detect some wonder and doubt,” said Hali. “The Neri can detect feelings, some more than others. My master valued my abilities—I gave him valuable insight about what his enemies were planning.” She smiled at the two physicians. “My abilities also permitted me to hide my intentions from him.”
“And he probably wants you back,” said Chen.
“More my son, who has the promise of being even more gifted than I am.”
“Why was he branded and not you?” said Obregon.
“My master wanted to be able to sell me after my son’s skills are fully developed. Little did he know that I taught my son to hide most of his skills. He has already surpassed me.” She didn’t hide the next emotion—it showed on her face: an infinite sadness. “Now it doesn’t matter. We have betrayed all the Neri on Charity.”
“Maybe you and your son can change that,” said Obregon. “Where do the Neri come from? We know you didn’t originate on Charity.”
“I don’t understand how you know that, but I detect certainty in your emotions. I’m not sure where we come from. Our legends talk about the god star. Some of our wise men point to a star in the sky.”
“If we show you the sky as it would appear from Charity, can you pick out that star?”
“But of course.”
Obregon smiled at Chen. “I think we have solved Edgerton’s mystery.”
***
“We have a problem,” said Wilson, who walked into Obregon’s office in Brendan’s sickbay.
“Beyond violating several don’ts in the ITUIP Protocol?” said the doctor. “Have a seat, Lester. I don’t need to be an empath to detect that you’re a troubled man.”
“We’ve already discussed our violations of the Protocol long enough. I’m morally supporting you, even if it means we’ll lose our jobs. Everyone here has recorded their opinion. The few opposed to our actions will be protected from prosecution, if it comes to that.”
“Depends on how everything turns out. So, what’s the problem, captain?”
“The planet of the Neri is still there, but it’s a cinder. The star went nova. Not a supernova, but still enough of a disaster that Hali’s people were all wiped out. Their ship that landed on Charity was an ark of some sort. Your parallel with the history of the Rangers is holding up.”
“Edgerton must have mentioned that. It was a wild guess at the time. So, what’s our next move?”
“You mean, after you tell Hali?”
“Me? You’re the captain. It’s your duty. Just fake some regret.”
“Fake regret? Are you kidding? It’s a terribly sad situation. This poor stowaway and her son now have no future.”
Obregon made a steeple out of his fingers and rested his chin on the apex. “How much surveillance of their home planet have we actually done?”
“What’s the use? Its condition is worse than any we’ve seen where there’s been a nuclear conflagration. Nothing is left. I’m not liking that sly old expression.”
“Guess you’re an empath too, Lester. In spite of physiological differences, Neri and Humans aren’t that different. Excavations on the Rangers’ home world showed even they left hidden caches in case the Rangers who fled ever returned.”
“The Rangers’ Mother World wasn’t destroyed by a nova. The Tali ‘cleansed’ it for their own use.”
“No matter. If I read the reports correctly, those information caches would have survived anything less than complete destruction of the Mother World. I can confirm that with Loves Rapids.”
“Never mind. I get your point. You’re suggesting there were other arks. More might be around besides those on Charity.”
“We can’t help the slaves on Charity directly because of the Protocol, but it says nothing about finding other Neri who would do exactly that.”
“If their arks weren’t equipped with FTL drives, they might still be en route.”
“In that case, we could change the route.”
“And you might just end up enslaving more Neri.”
“That wouldn’t be good.”
Wilson half stood, bracing himself on Obregon’s desk. “We’re debating this without the most important person present. Let’s ask Hali what she thinks.” He frowned. “After I tell her her home world’s a cinder.”
***
“You’re on a lucky streak, you know,” said Edgerton as the Brendan approached the Neri’s ark. They had found several caches on the Neri home world, each indicating that five arks had been launched. They had chosen the one heading for a star where the direction of travel wasn’t that different from the one for the ark sent to Charity.
“It never carries over to the casinos when we’re on shore leave,” said Obregon with a smile. He put his arm around Hali. “Maybe our stowaway is my lucky charm.”
“There is no such thing as good or bad luck, Obregon” Hali said. “Intuition is the ability to take known data and project it beyond where logic can’t go. You have that ability. I don’t.”
“But you have other abilities. You’re nervous, aren’t you?”
“You’re also a weak empath. Yes, I don’t know these people. Imagine, they have gone through the same number of generations on this ship as we did on Charity. They might even consider my son and me their enemies.”
“I’m guessing they have a minimal crew that changes periodically while everyone else is in cryosleep. That’s a common characteristic of early interstellar voyages.” Obregon squeezed Hali’s shoulder. “You’ll have to convince that crew to reroute to Charity.”
“They might not be able to,” said Edgerton. “Let alone want to do so when they hear about the situation on that awful planet.”
“That will depend on their technology,” said Obregon. “They would be completely outnumbered by the Masters, as was the case of the first ark.”
“Our wise men tell us we were enslaved because we were unwilling to fight. I think I can change that. I’ll have to change that. But we’ll only need a foothold on Charity this time, I’m sure.”
Obregon saw Edgerton nod and smiled. Perhaps his friend and colleague saw the whole thing as an interesting experiment in xenosociology. Obregon didn’t know what to make of it, except that helping the Neri out in any manner might be justified, in spite of the ITUIP Protocol.
***
[Notes: the ITUIP Protocol plays an important role in Rogue Planet also. It’s Star Trek’s Prime Directive on steroids. If you’ve encountered the acronym ITUIP here for the first time, it’s short for “Interstellar Trade Union of Independent Planets,” a futuristic version of the European Union that first appears in the “Chaos Chronicles Trilogy.”]
In libris libertas!
