Thierry maneuvers the joystick controls, keeping the bucking forces steady as possible.
More high-powered steam soaks the ship. White foam soaps every inch of the craft. As the top of the wings dip below the sapphire dome, cannons of the chemical activate and hose down the exposed top. The force’s so powerful it lifts and drives the craft down at the same instant.
The jets of chemical cease once the cargo ship has every inch purified.
Thierry brings the vehicle down gently, landing on the pad.
“Must the entire surface have to be cleaned of this plague?”
“Making sure we didn’t bring any in with us.” Thierry activates the cargo ramp before releasing Maxtin from the harness. “After you, Admiral.”
Workers in biohazard suits vacuum the foam dripping from the ship and falling into gutters around the landing pad. Other Zayars remove the cargo crates from the ship while three Zayars greet Thierry until they realize he does not emerge first from the vehicle.
The female Zayar unholsters her sidearm.
“Put that away, Vartika,” Thierry orders.
“You brought a traitor to—”
“His home world and the damage we hide from everyone. Interacting with off-worlders isn’t sin even if The Conclave frowns upon it. We need his help, or we’ll never restore Zayous.”
“Foolish you are, Thierry, to consort with Maxtin without approval,” the male to Vartika’s right scolds.
“Professor Emuukha?” Maxtin wonders.
“I always knew you’d never conform, Maxtin.”
“Foolish consistencies, Professor.”
“At least you listened to one lecture.” Emuukha smiles.
“We should arrest him,” the other man offers.
“No, Qwanell, we need a man with his misgivings.” Emuukha grits his teeth. “Vartika, show the emperor our problem. I will deal with the perfunctory.”
“I’m only one of five elected presidents of the UCP government,” Maxtin corrects him.
“A government you founded and gave yourself a life term as leader of. You may have abandoned us but not what it means to be a Zayar.”
“I don’t know why Thierry thinks you’ll help us,” Vartika huffs.
“I might be able to get Qarban R16 in greater quantities without arousing suspicion.”
“If we don’t, we’ll lose most of the planet to this chemical.” She approaches the edge of the azure shield. “I’m sure Thierry told you some of this. I’ll spare you most of the science.” She slaps the dome.
A bird flies from the closest tree.
“Wildlife.”
“Minimal. Only enough to keep the exchange of oxygen in balance.”
“Don’t birds breed?”
“Quite frequently. When they do, we capture the young and freeze them to be released later when the dome grows or we find numbers depleted. We have many species in cryofreeze. Lang’gore Research Center has been transformed into a zoo.” She points outside the dome. “Emuukha needs your advice on our latest problem.”
“An oak tree?”
“It takes seven full-grown Zayars to reach around it. We have reached the edge of part of the old-growth forest. To extend the force field and clean each tree, we have to envelope each plant in its entirety. The shield extends underground and passes through the root system as well.”
“Feel the shield—hard as a rock.”
“When we have enough Qarban R16, we reduce the density of the force screen and expand it. It scrubs the chemical from whatever it passes through. Before we run out of chemical we reharden the dome and wait for the next shipment. The calculation team then figures if we release an animal or bring down a Zayar citizen to balance the needed air.”
Maxtin nods.
“Adding today’s shipment, there’s only enough Qarban R16 to scrub half this tree. We don’t harden the dome through living organisms, or it will cut them in two. If we leave the dome soft, the chemical leaches back through the clean part of the tree from the still-contaminated part.”
“The forest has ten thousand trees with equal diameters.”
“And if we expand and don’t take the entire tree, including the correct percentage of roots, we undo all this work.”
“You need an expansion rate allowing you to get people off those ships.”
“It would open up room. Even twenty people gone from a ship would ease the tensions. Rumors are they want to force the government to found a colony.”
“I could offer a planet.”
“No. Getting more Qarban R16 could be suggested, but not now. All the battle cruisers are poorly modified generation ships now. They could not protect a colony.”
“The UCP has the capability.”
“You’ve spent too much time among non-Zayars.”
“Reason perpetuates what I do.”
“Maxtin, get us the Qarban R16. Show your support for our plan and we go to The Conclave. We propose a small colony and build from there.”
“The Mokarran are nearing a shooting war with the UCP. I won’t be able to offer much aid.”
“It’s always the Mokarran with you, Maxtin.” Emuukha hobbles to join them. “A war on two fronts would maximize expenditure of all their resources. The Throgen Empire knocks at their door, and a conflict with the UCP would pull enough of their fleet from the front lines they would crumble. Even with your limited fleet, you’d defeat them.”
“They hold a great deal of their military in reserve. And shipyards supplied by Shalenotun VII are building a new class of battle cruiser.”
“Those cruisers have been delayed. Something about the assassination of political leader Commodore Micah Donkor. His planet was supplying most of the raw construction materials, and now the power vacuum his death has created has left a debate on continuing to fund the Mokarran project.”
“Those fools. The Mokarran will just slaughter them.”
“Micah Donkor was a friend.” Maxtin slides a small leather bound book from his uniform pocket. He traces the faded symbol reminiscent of the Chinese I Ching as if he were offering a silent prayer. “Donkor never agreed with the Mokarran but was appeasing them to keep his people safe. He supplied the Mokarran with just enough material to keep the fleet yards operational. His death will mean the death of millions. If they don’t deliver, the Mokarran will just take.”
“This is why our people want to hide their heads in the sand,” Emuukha says.
“You taught us better.”
“Those that listened.”
“The conflict over government control may delay the building of those
