Marianne

  Marianne glanced that way, and noted how the man forced himself to stop and take a breath. His face was blank now, but a moment ago he had been very angry.

  "Thank you for breakfast, Agent Donovan. I am Marianne Boyle, a Ranger." She added a word in some whispery, sibilant tongue. "The Ilshani word means 'protector’ and we Rangers serve and protect the Galactic Conservancy. I represent its interests, and my people, who are one people of many species."

  The other agent took a seat beside Donovan and across from Marianne, arms folded in front of him, she noted. Marianne extended her hand to him, and he took it reluctantly. She grinned and squeezed, and he squeezed right back. The handshake went on for a couple of beats longer than it should have neither party willing to accept defeat.

  "Alright children, that’s enough of that. Marianne, this is Daniel Stone. Daniel, Marianne," Donovan said.

  Low and out of the side of his mouth, Stone said, "Knock it off, Fred!"

  Donovan smiled. Enough of that, he thought, turning back to Marianne. He was startled at the wistful look on her face, and she smiled.

  “I miss having a partner.” She looked to Daniel, and added, sympathetically, “I was the junior, too.”

  “What happened?” Daniel asked.

  “Life. The War.” She frowned and the Blue Book agents leaned forward.

  “My old partner took some personal leave. Tyla’s an Oddity, and went maternal mode on me.” She brushed at her eye. “I’m glad, really. Her life expectancy tripled, quadrupled, as a mother. Fools say that Oddities are cowards, but a Ranger Oddity burns her candle at both ends, then chops it up and lights all of the exposed wick. Anyway, she took some leave for a while, to try out life as a parent. In the Cee, she didn’t even need a license, so she dropped a whole passel of grubs, on top of the Gara kits that she had adopted…”

  “You’re going to have to explain that. All of that,” Fred said, shaking his head.

  “Not much to tell. Pirates took a Directorate of Transportation starship, a venerable old survey tub, like the Harvest Moon…“ Marianne said, and stopped as she took in their blank faces. How do you explain your entire life and culture, to aliens who shared the same shape as you, but thought so differently?

  “We took it back, with the help of her passengers and crew. Unfortunately, we Rangers are spread way too thin, these days.”

  “Just two of you?” Daniel asked. “Rangers, I mean.”

  “Twice what we needed,” She bragged, but Fred wondered, if it was bragging. So very proud, and so very young.

  “’One crisis, one Ranger.’” A far away look came over her face, again.

  ***

  “Dead.”

  The Oddity, Ranger Tyla Johd, didn’t stand like a biped, but brought it’s three motive tentacles together to elevate itself above the still form of the Gara captain. The fox-like alien was wrapped around a dead Bluehorn, one of the pirates. The Gara's jaws were locked on her throat, and a hole had been blasted into the Gara's chest.

  The Oddity and the human Ranger saluted him. The Oddity’s was a circle traced in the air before her with a tentacle tip, which she then held straight upright. The human thumped a clenched right fist to her heart, her arm bent at the elbow, and held close for a few beats.

  “A Ranger is a Ranger because other Rangers say that he-“ Tyla began.

  “Or she!” Marianne interrupted.

  “Or she, is. That precedent was established long ago, and reaffirmed at OjGara, and all the other places. A volunteer and fellow traveler, who shares in The Work, is just as much a Ranger as any that spends a life time in peace and dies in bed.”

  “I wonder what that would be like,” Marianne said, wistful.

  A bit later, in the next room, Tyla found three Gara kits under their dead mother, alive and mewling in distress. She gathered them up to her, three shivering furry bundles of life that nearly over-balanced the willowy Oddity. Tyla turned her three eye-stalks on their tiny faces.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give it a try, and let you know.”

  ***

  "The Conservancy really isn't all that big, as things go. Only a few million people, and a few dozen worlds." Marianne paused. "There used to be a lot of Galactic institutions, mutual aid societies, economic unions, that sort of thing."

  "Well, we know how well that sort of thing works on one planet. Why do you aliens put up with it?" Daniel said.

  Marianne shrugged, helpless to explain assumptions that she only dimly perceived. "Power always corrupts. In the Conservancy, most efforts have a clearly defined beginning, middle and end. When a planet is selected for viva-forming-"

  "What is that?" Fred asked.

  Marianne thought. "I know that terraforming is an English word. Your myth-weavers and scientists have posited a process for artificially bringing dead and barren worlds to life. 'Viva' and forming. I suppose we should have used two English words, life-forming. I don't know why, maybe because there was a similiar word, already handy, but not quite right."

  "Not right, how?" That was Fred.

  "The Engineers select a process, and a goal, and that includes the ecology. My birth-world, Dee-Lah-Wah, is being seeded with Earth-life, but other places would have ecologies based on other homeworlds. Windy Trike-Home, one of the three Oddity homeworlds, Girreenjaya for the Markov-"

  "Whoa, back up, little lady. How can a species have three homeworlds?"

  Before she could answer, Daniel broke in. "I suppose that maybe they could have been transplanted to several worlds. In all the SF I've ever read, when an author wanted the characters to interact with not so alien aliens, humans like our guest, they had our alien space brothers transplant populations of humans to other planets." He frowned. "I never liked those settings. It's internally inconsistent for people to make it in another whole living system. Hey, Australia's just about the most alien environment, on Earth, and it has most of the nasty, poisonous critters. So, why wouldn't Ook and Okka, Cave-dwellers, just lie down and die of something poisonous?"

  Marianne nodded. "We have to be very careful, not to accidently kill each other, in the Cee, just that way. But, in the case of the Oddities, they are sort of a remnant species, sort of like the Greys, who survive from a civilization predating even the Ilshani. The Oddities, as near as we can determine, were some sort of pet, because traces of them, or their ecological leavings, can be found all over the former worlds of the Ilshani."

  "Ilshani?" Dan and Fred said, together, and they bumped knuckles, laughing.

  Marianne slapped her palm to her forehead. "Gods and Ancestors! I really should have started there. Without the Ilshani, there would be no Conservancy."

  ***

  "The Ilshani were a species that found their way onto what they called the Star Road, about 35,000 years ago. They've been gone almost as long."

  Marianne stopped, and looked them each in the eye, first Fred, then Daniel.

  "I am a child of the Conservancy, as we are the legacy of the Ilshani. Their world was murdered, and their works and allies smashed and wiped away, so that what little we know of them is our greatest treasure. Among the gifts of the Ilshani is their language, a living tongue we have adapted to our needs. It serves, among other things, as a common language for the species which make up the Conservancy, and throughout the wider galaxy."

  "The Conservancy exists to create and conserve life, and the potential for sapience, in the Galaxy. We bring barren worlds to life, just as we restored Ilshan. Where we can, we protect the younger species. Sometimes the best we can is not enough." She looked away. "There is a litany. In English, it would go like this-"

  "The Circle is made Whole! That which was broken, is Reformed! That which was barren and dead, is Reborn!

  The Work gives us meaning. The Work gives us hope. The Work goes ever on."

  Daniel looked uncomfortably at Fred, who nodded. He turned to Marianne and said, "Excuse us, for a moment. We'll be right back."

&n
bsp; Marianne stared at them critically, then she leaned back in her chair, and drawled, "Sure. If you girls feel the need to go use the bathroom, together..."

  Daniel glared at her, and Fred just sighed. "Right back."

  ***

  "She's a fanatic. This is her religion, and we can't expect her to be reasonable, or rational."

  "And yet they are an advanced alien-"

  "With all due respect, the Afghanis are some of the finest gunsmiths in the world. The pilots among 911 hijackers were highly educated and motivated. A dedicated man, or woman, can do a lot of damage."

  "I get your point." Fred glanced back through the window. Marianne was up and doing some stretches, using the table to get her leg up like a ballerina on that rail that ran along the wall of a dance studio. She stepped back away from the table and started something that seemed to be part dance, part tai chi.

  "Dan, she's friendly, and I don't want to screw this up. This is far from 'First Contact', but I can't help but feel like this is an opportunity that may not come again."

  ***

  "Why are you here?'

  "I believe that I was arrested," Marianne smiled, "For resisting arrest, actually. In the finest tradition of the militia, circular logic biting its own tail and hanging on for a wild ride."

  Daniel laughed. "It is sort of hard not to like you, you know?"

  "Why, are you trying hard, not to like me?"

  Daniel sighed. "I, at least, am trying to maintain a certain distance." He glanced at Fred. "We have a duty too. We're tasked with dealing with alien threats, and finding ways to turn you and your technology to our advantage. I’m sorry."

  "What!?" Marianne laughed. "Don't be sorry. I don't begrudge you seeking advantage. That would be stupid, and while I've made some very big mistakes in my life, they've been complicated, creative, and truly clever ones."

  Daniel blinked, and sat back, then glanced at Fred, again.

  ***

  "The galaxy is a mess." Marianne sighed.

  "Long ago, the species of the wider galaxy co-existed. I'm referring here to those starfaring species we know of, with homeworlds and daughterworlds in this part of the explored network of artificial wormholes we use to travel between the stars. Not that there was no conflict, or outright war, but these species had little to gain and no patience with this sort of foolishness."

  "I don't suppose you Rangers allowed it," Daniel commented, watching her face closely.

  "It would have been wrong for us to interfere. From time to time, we were invited in, I believe." She shrugged. "It was a time of Galactic peace, and we Rangers concentrated on our traditional role, as a search and rescue force, and as bodyguards for the scouts who make up the Survey." She smiled. "That was how my mother and father met, by the way."

  "So what happened to spoil your 'Pax Galactica'?"

  "The Atavistic Movement. They believed that, in becoming Starfarers, some species had lost something special; lost their identities. As such things go, this wasn't entirely nonsense. In the Conservancy, we struggle with this sort of thing. There are certain necessary compromises, even those we strive to cover, each differing weakness with each strength."

  "Just to go with the most obvious variable, the largest sapients, in the Galaxy today, are the Markov, who mass 700 kilos, about three quarters of a ton. The Hunters had been of a similar size and mass." Grief ran across her face and was gone. “Anyway, they are an order of magnitude larger than humans, who fall somewhere near the galactic median mass. The Gara and Oddities are the smallest, at 20 and 30 kilos, although a maternal Oddity bulks up to 80 kilos and more, after the change."

  "As much as I'd love to investigate the life cycle of the Oddities, and I'm sure it's very important, can you give me the 1,000 word version of recent history, please?!" Daniel exploded. Fred merely smiled.

  “Philosophy led to political ideology, and the Atavistic Movement spawned the Atavistic Powers. There was war, and the threat of the same, as the powers sought to gather up their scattered peoples to form a strong, unified state. They also tended to pick up any useful real estate for their own use, and to deny those resources to others."

  "At this time, the biggest of the remaining power is the Markov Imperium. Opposing them, in desperation, is the Spinward Rim Alliance. The Oddities, the Greys, who have somehow entered into your popular mythology, and the Trikes, wheeled cyborgs."

  "The Markov have the troops and resources to finish their Galactic Conquest. They truly believe that the Galaxy would be better off under their stewardship, and I have to admit, personally, that almost anything would be better than the current state of affairs."

  "The Spinward Rim Alliance is desperate and has turned to theft and slavery to provide soldiers for their Grand Fleet. They are trafficking in primitive species, including Humans, turning them into slave soldiers to fight and die for them. They have emerged as a significant X-factor. The aggressive qualities of the species..."

  "They refer to us as the 'New' Demons, where the old Demons, of legend, were the ones who are supposed have destroyed the Ilshani."

  ***

  "That explains a few things," said Daniel.

  Fred was sitting with his arms folded in front of his chest, and the warmth had drained away from his eyes again. He opened his arms and leaned forward, setting both big hands on the table, invading her space.

  "Tell me what it is you want. You obviously have some mission."

  "I came here to find a missing scout. Such is ever the lot of a Ranger. I am prepared to work with your organization, to do something about the slave-takers." Marianne held up a fist, and opened it, palm up. "I know that you have her here. Please release her, so that I can send her home." She closed her hand and brought the clenched fist to her heart. Her eyes bored into Fred's, and Daniel half-turned, so he could see both of them at the same time.

  Fred said nothing, just got up and left the room. Daniel released a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding, and sucked in a lung full of air. Then he jumped up to follow, muttering under his breath.

  "Son of a bitch!"

  ***

  Daniel found Fred, in his office, and on the phone. Fred motioned for him to shut the door, and be quiet. The conversation was completely one-sided, consisting of the occasional 'Yes sir!' or 'No sir!’ barked seemingly a random. It finally ended with, "Understood." Fred placed the phone in its cradle with exaggerated care, and turned to look at Daniel.

  "Yes?"

  "What are we going to do?" Daniel remembered Fred’s joke, only it was so funny anymore.

  "The executive order is to obtain alien tech and galactic assets, by any means necessary. It also states that, specifically, we are not to cooperate with the organization known as the Conservancy. That directive still stands, and now I've got to do something that I don't want to."

  "Sir, I can do this-" Daniel began, but Fred interrupted.

  "Shut up, Marine! Let the Air Force take care of this one.” Fred stopped himself. “Just take it easy. In fact, take the rest of the day off. I don’t want to see your sad and ugly face around here until tomorrow.”

  ***

  They put her back in her cell, and the day passed. Lunch came, then dinner. Hours after that, Marianne was sitting up in the cot, when Fred swung the door open. He looked at her without saying anything for a few seconds, and Marianne waited him out. Finally, he said, "Let's take a little walk."

  Marianne stood. "I've actually watched a few movies like this since I arrived. You might as well get the gun out now."

  Fred sighed. "Not just yet. God, woman, did you come to Earth looking for someplace to die?"

  Marianne bowed her head, and said nothing, straightening up after a moment and walking tall and proud.

  "Tell me about it, or don't. We really are taking a walk, just now, to see this scout you came to rescue." He thought to himself, who did you expect to rescue you? He suspected the answer was the same one he'd found, so long
ago.

  "I took a little personal leave, myself, before this mission. The Engineers had this project, and offered me a place, a place of honor, really. There were thousands of volunteers... It ended very badly, and let's just say, the alarming rate at which this little world eats up Galactics, that didn't bother me one little bit."

  "I've mentioned the Hunters. They were murdered by a bio-weapon that the Markov Imperium hired some Trikes to create. All of the Hunters were killed, down to the very last one, Old Complications. He was, in many ways, my substitute grandfather. We were going to raise clones of a gross of scouts, rangers and even a few engineers. We got to calling them the Firstborn, since they would have been the first of a the New Hunters. The Markov, who had murdered the entire species, objected."

  "We made them immune to the bio-weapon, of course, but the Markov are thorough, and sent their agents with a new sickness. They were determined that we would never try this again, so they had the calculated cruelty to make sure that the Firstborn Clones died in agony. All that we could do for them was to comfort them, hold them until they passed into terminal comas."

  "Jesus H. Christ." Fred put a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed it. He held his breath, as he felt her tense, then she relaxed. He sighed in relief, and she gave him a searching look.

  They walked through the tunnels, meeting no guards, which puzzled her a little. There had always been gawkers or security personnel before, usually making no real effort to pretend to be about official business.

  "Here we are." He had the gun out now, and waved her into the infirmary. The Grey scout was in the second bed. Marianne went to her. There were no words for this total failure.

  The scout turned her head, wearily, as Marianne leaned over her. Tear drops fell on the grey's face, and she whispered, ("You bring me salt water? Thanks. I can die now."). Marianne laughed and stood turning back to Fred.

  He was standing too close. He had to know that. The gun was pointed only generally in her direction. Then Marianne understood, and she went into action. Fred just had time to think, this is going to hurt, before her kick wiped the smile off of his face.

  ***

  "I leave you alone with-"